Chapter Eleven; Eryn Lasgalen

Gimli stood by, mouth slightly agape as he watched the enormous, heavy twin gates swing open smoothly and effortlessly as though they were made of mere parchment and not tons of iron and hard wood.
He had heard about the enchanted gates of this Woodland realm but to see them with his own eyes was a different matter and for some small, strange unexplainable reason he felt proud that he was friends with one of the very few elves that could command these charmed doors to open.

He looked to his friend once again only to find the elfÂ’s twinkling eyes looking directly back at him,smiling.

“Well my friend, we are finally here,” Legolas announced, “welcome to my home,” he said while gesturing towards the now fully open gates.

Gimli nodded formally and spoke with great respect.
“I accept your welcome Master Elf, may Aulë forever shine upon your household and watch over those held within.”

Legolas gripped his friendÂ’s shoulder and smiled appreciatatively at the kind response.
“Hannon-le mellon nîn, your words mean a great deal.”

The other elves began to whisper amongst themselves, keen to see their families once more as soon as their Captain had dismissed them.
Sensing their quiet urgency Legolas began to make his way through the entrance of his fatherÂ’s kingdom.

He glanced over his shoulder only to find Gimli and Sindadur walking side by side directly behind him. His two pillars of unwavering support, united for a brief time in common purpose, their animosity temporarily forgotten. It was a good feeling to know that they were there.

Beyond his two friends the remainder of the patrol and Arod followed their Prince through the gates in a calm, orderly fashion.

Once inside GimliÂ’s eyes did their very best to take everything in. It reminded him of the feeling he had the first time he saw the vast halls of the Dwarrowdelf. Where does one start when the eyes have much to feast upon ?

To his immediate left and right grew a row of immense oak trees, any one of which was easily older than his own years combined with those of his father Gloin.
They seemed to follow the path of the wall as far as the eye could see. Hanging from their far reaching branches dangled ornate silver coloured oil lanterns, each one shaped like a water-lily.

Around the base of each oak, lush ferns grew in the dappled shade, while further out flowers of many colours circled the ample girth of each rugged trunk, each one turning their fragrant faces to the glorious sun above. The air was awash with the scents of their perfume and large bees hovered from petal to petal, laden with pollen from their labours.

High above in the trees birds sang to each other and to the elves below, while squirrels scampered from branch to branch trying to get a glimpse of the activity beneath them.

He glanced over his shoulder only to witness the silent closing of the wondrous gates as the last warrior crossed the threshold. High above on the imposing wall he caught a better look at the elves vigilantly patrolling the parapets.
They were clad similarly to the other elves and equally armed but they also wore simple and functional armour on their chests. It was designed in such as way as to not restrict the fluid motion of an elf in battle, but would offer some protection against enemy arrows.
As Gimli moved further away from the wall he could also see what appeared to be wooden benches placed at intervals along the wide top, on them lay extra armour and decorative helms along with dozens of bushels of extra arrows, each one precisely made.

He faced forward once more and wove his way along a speckled cobbled path made from granite, its silver flecks dazzling in the full sun overhead. Large clumps of lavender grew along the edges of the path way adding new colour and fragrance to his already over loaded senses, while strange black butterflies flittered about their fragrant stalks. Soon the majestic oaks were replaced by tall elegant silver birch trees growing here and there in the verdant grass.

The party continued to walk in contemplative silence through the forest of birch trees until they reached a narrow but fast flowing river, most likely it was a small tributary of the Forest River. Although the river could have easily been cleared by any leaping elf, a small stone, wall-less bridge had been constructed across its turbulent water.

It was here that they paused for a moment and Gimli got his first look at what appeared to be the elven city. As he took in the sights before him excitement grew amongst the returning warriors and for the first time since Gimli had been in their company they began to speak openly to each other, their gentle voices no longer hushed but filled with joy and a musical laughter.

Legolas turned to face his stout friend. The returning warrior was practically beaming. Gimli could only recall one other occasion when he had seen the elf so happy and that was after the wedding ceremony of Aragorn to the Lady Arwen and much wine had been consumed on that joyous day.

“We are almost there Master Dwarf, soon you shall be a guest of my father’s great halls and I shall show you real elven hospitality !” the elf promised between smiles, then he added more seriously, “know that come what may, so long as I reside within these walls, you will always be welcome here.”

“And for that you have my thanks Master Elf,” Gimli replied, hoping for the sake of his friend that things would go well.
The reunion between a father and son should be a joyous occasion, not one marred by ill will and feelings of resentment and for the first time Gimli began to wonder about the timing of his arrival.

Legolas led the returning party across the narrow bridge and into the very heart of Eryn Lasgalen. Strange tall trees grew all around them and while Gimli was no expert on trees, he was sure he had not seen the likes of them before.

They were immense, though not as tall as the great Mellyrn of Lothlórien and their long branches were covered with long leaf fronds that swayed in the gentle breeze almost like willows. It was then that he spotted the elves in the trees and the great talans on which they stood.
The talans were spread over many different levels , each one carefully placed around the tree and its branches so as not to interfere with their living host. Some were open, while some had ornately carved wooden walls and roofs. And again in amongst the branches he could see the same water-lily shaped oil lamps, hanging from silver linked chains along side delicate chimes which filled the air with soothing metallic tones and though the effect was lost on Gimli, the elves loved how these musical chimes sang in harmony with the song of the trees surrounding them.

They elves waved at the returning warriors and called out to their Prince welcoming him home. It was always a great relief to the dwellers of Eryn Lasgalen when a patrol arrived home intact, without casualties or serious injuries. There had been far too many losses of late and families feared for the lives of their loved ones each time they set out on patrol to secure the borders of this woodland realm.

Each life was precious, each being was an integral part of the tapestry of life within this isolated realm and when a life was lost it left a hole in the fabric of their society, a hole which could not easily be mended.

And yet despite their many losses, these proud people refused to give in to the shadow and they fought back repeatedly, with burning passion and grim determination. Over the ages they had been forced to move again and again, further north, closer to the mountains. Well now they would move no more.

Here in these enchanted woods they had made their final stand against the encroaching shadow and they had won. They did not allow darkness to prevail, the light of the elves was stronger here than perhaps any where else.

The elves of Eryn Lasgalen were not ready to leave these shores just yet and so they fought back, they fought with bow and blade beyond the safe confines of their Kingdom, bringing swift death to their foes, while secure within their walls, they cherished life and the lives of their children and they welcomed the new light that came with the birth of each new elfling. They found peace in the knowledge that so long as a flicker of hope and light remained, then darkness could not truly conquer all.

Gimli soon noticed this subtle difference as he walked by his friend. He could not recall seeing any elflings in Imladris or Lothlórien. At the time Legolas was the youngest elf he had seen. It was almost as if the two realms had made their decision long ago to leave Middle-earth and no longer wished to risk bringing new life into this world.

But here the place teamed with life, elflings played in the warm sun, watched over by protective, loving parents and guardians.
Some of them paused their play and mock battles and gave him curious looks, one little female elfling ran to the flowing skirts of her mother and hid behind her leg as he passed, she had most likely never seen a dwarf before.
Gimli chuckled to himself at the reaction and wondered if these elves told their children stories about hideous dwarves who would come and steel them away in the night. He wondered because he had heard some of his own people conjure up tales about wicked elves who would do the very same thing.

As they passed by another group of slightly older, unsupervised elflings practicing sword skills with wooden sticks, one of them ran over to the returning warriors.

It was hard to make out her age, to Gimli she looked like a child of twelve maybe thirteen, though that was surely not her true age. She wore a simple dress of woven moss green wool. Her long brown hair was tied back in a simple functional plait and her blue eyes shone with joy as she recognised her father.

“Ada, Ada !” she cried with joy as she leapt into her father’s open arms. He lifted her up effortlessly and kissed her on the cheek, his warrior’s composure momentarily lost as he hugged his youngest daughter.
Gimli did not understand a word of what he whispered into her delicate leaf shaped ear but he could sense the feelings of love and happiness held within them.
Then all too soon he lowered her gently to the ground and pushed her back in the direction of her other friends, no doubt promising to be with her as soon as he was dismissed.

Once she had left, the warrior smiled apologetically to his Captain and Prince for the over zealousness of his child. But no harm was done and they nodded back, still smiling from having witnessed such a brief yet precious reunion. Absently Gimli hoped that LegolasÂ’ reunion with his own father would be just as pleasant.

As they continued to walk closer and closer to the palace, Gimli searched his mind for something he could compare this enchanted place to but found himself at a loss. To compare it to Rivendell was unjust, for the realms were as different as night and day. He supposed that this elven homeland had more in common with Lothlorien, they both shared a strange mystical atmosphere, however the feelings that this particular territory evoked were quite different.
The time of the Golden Wood was coming to an end, that was not true of this Woodland realm. This place was bursting with life. It was a sanctuary for all that is good and a haven for nature itself, nothing foul would ever pass through the borders of this land to taint the trees growing within.

The dwarf could clearly see the mountain looming before him which held the home of his friend. It was an impressive sight and he was keen to see what lay within the rock and stone. As they got closer they passed by several wooden structures, some possibly homes or store houses and work shops. Elves busied themselves all around the area, each one tending to their business, many of them casting welcoming glances and waves at the warriors and bowing respectfully to the young Prince.

They paused once more by a large lake, its crystal clear waters mirrored everything around it. Huge white water-lilies floated lazily on the surface and several varieties of frogs could be heard, adding their distinctive voices to natureÂ’s chorus. Gimli watched as large yet delicate dragonflies skimmed across the still surface of the pond while their iridescent wings and bodies reflected in the silvery surface.

Sindadur called his young Lieutenant Galathil and instructed him to take the rest of the warrior party to the barracks, where they were to be dismissed once the supplies were returned and restocked should they be needed sooner than planned.

With a curteous nod the warrior spoke to his Prince, “By your leave, my lord.”

“Ofcourse Galathil, I shall see you again soon my friend and please take good care of Arod for me” Legolas replied.

With that the Lieutenant turned and left with the rest of the patrol, Arod following obediently behind. Sindadur had to return to the palace and brief his King but even if there had been no need he would have still remained by his Prince’s side.

And now the entrance to his fatherÂ’s stronghold stood but a short distance before him. LegolasÂ’ bright eyes stared at the view which they had longed to see. He led his friends along the straight path leading directly to the entrance. On either side of them grew tall beech trees. They crossed yet another bridge, made of wood this time and it carried them safely across the swift, dark currents beneath them. Across the stream grew more great beeches and they continued to grow steadily up the side of the mountain, covering it in a lush green canopy.
Leading up to the great doors were several stairs hewn from the very rock of the mountain. Their surfaces were smooth and polished from the countless feet that had passed over them across the ages.

Posted outside the entrance to the carven at the top of the stairs, stood several warrior elves. They were dressed quite differently to any elf Gimli had previously seen. Their armour was more ceremonial and yet still functional, they wore gleaming gold coloured helms which mirrored the leaf patterns of their armour. About their long elegant necks hung velvet cloaks of the darkest green and they each gripped a long deadly spear in their right hand. As their Prince approached they moved aside to allow him access to the doors then they stood smartly to attention.

Gimli and Sindadur followed Legolas up the solid stairs and receiving his cue from the elder elf, Gimli waited beside him, a respectful distance from the ornately carved stone doors. They reminded the dwarf of the doors they had used to enter the mines of Moria only the carvings on these doors were clearly visible and were once again composed of scenes from nature.

Legolas approached the doors and again felt the mix of emotions swirl about inside him. With another calming breath he placed the smooth palm of his left hand on the door and placed his right palm across his heart. Then softly he whispered the words to open these magical doors.

Within moments the heavy doors began to swing open, accompanied by the faintest sound of grinding stone. Air from inside rushed towards him and his nose was filled with the familiar scents of home.
He smiled contently as he recognised one all too familiar scent on the billowing air currents.

He was finally home.