"Come now!" [Legolas] said. "Time wears on,
and the mists are blowing away, or would if you strange folk did
not wreathe yourselves in smoke."
'Flotsam and Jetsam', The Two Towers
That evening, Frodo, Sam, and Gimli brought their pipes and sat
together on one of the benches outside Bag End. Dora lay snoozing
at Frodo's feet, Thorin and Bofur were sniffing about in the
garden, and Gimli sat petting Glóin, the red-furred pup of whom he
was growing quite fond.
After a few minutes of companionable silence, Gimli cleared his throat, took a deep draw on his pipe, and blew a series of excellent smoke rings.
"Nicely done!" Frodo said with a laugh. "I remember the contests you and Merry used to have."
"And I remember how far away Legolas would stay when you did," Sam said.
"Aye, that's right," Gimli said, smiling at the memory. "He misses you both very much. He'll be along to visit one of these days."
"We miss him too," Frodo said. "There are now so few Elves in Middle-earth, and even fewer who come through the Shire. I'm glad at least some of the children were able to meet Arwen at Lake Evendim."
"That reminds me, the greater part of my luggage is gifts she and Aragorn sent," Gimli said. "With your permission, Sam, I'll give them out tomorrow after breakfast."
"Better make it second breakfast," Sam advised. "The morning chores will be finished by then."
"Second breakfast, then" Gimli grinned. "By the time I left Bag End last time, my belt was on the last loop. Your letter mentioned that Frodo-lad is courting a certain Hollyhock Burrows; I hope she's a good cook!"
"She is, and will be even better with Rosie teaching her!" Sam said with a glad smile. "She's a lovely and clever lass, good-hearted and full of laughter. There's more than one young hobbit who had hoped to court her, but Frodo-lad was smart enough to swoop in first."
"He certainly is smart," Gimli agreed. "I've been quite impressed with him. You have no second thoughts about what I brought him?"
Sam shook his head. "None, my friend. Rosie and I talked it over after your letter came."
"You won't get in trouble, will you, Gimli?" Frodo asked anxiously. "With your fellow Dwarves, I mean. Gandalf said something about all the secrets your folk keep."
"We do indeed, Frodo, and for good reason," Gimli said, "but I have broken with more than one tradition in my time, and may break – or at least bend – a few more before Mahal calls me to his Halls."
"May that time be long in coming," Frodo said fervently.
"And may you and Samwise continue to be well, and as long-lived as any Dwarf," Gimli responded. "We three have been through a great deal in our lives, haven't we? And now here we sit, with your Shire safe and my people engaged in great new works."
Frodo closed his eyes for a moment, overcome with gratitude. The Shire safe, that's all I ever wanted, he thought. And for Sam to be back home and happy, Bilbo's heart to be at peace, and Aragorn with everything he deserves after all he's done. And now here we sit, and it's all come to pass.
Opening his eyes, he saw that Gimli was puffing contentedly on his pipe. He glanced at Sam, his eyes suddenly alight with mischief.
"Let's show Gimli what we've been working on, Sam. Dwarves may be engaged in great new works, but so are hobbits, don't you think?"
Sam grinned and nodded, and blew a ring of smoke. He then reached out and snapped his fingers over it in just the right place, collapsing the top of the ring down into a heart shape. Then he did it twice more. While Gimli was applauding this trick, Frodo blew a large ring, then three smaller, faster ones that chased each other through the center of the first. Sam countered by blowing two rings at once, and Frodo finished with a billowing dragon-smoke effect.
"I must learn those!" Gimli declared. "The next time I need to settle a bet with Aragorn or Ḗomer, I'll finally have something new to show them!"
~*~
The next morning, after second breakfast, Gimli bade all the children stay gathered around. To their excited squeals and cries of excitement, he brought armfuls of bags, boxes, and wrapped packages into the room, and piled them on the table in front of him. The family had received parcels from Gondor before, but this time the King and Queen had outdone themselves.
For the girls, there were satin ribbons dyed in unusual and lovely colors, rings set with tiny sea-pearls or opals or garnets, and scented waters and soaps. For the boys, there were beautifully-tooled belts, and hobbit-sized, Elvish-made arrows they couldn't wait to try out with their bows. One box contained small carved boats, and a family of wooden horses with real manes and tails.
While the children were exclaiming over their gifts, Gimli pulled out a clear crystal globe set into a polished wooden base and handed it to Frodo. It was filled with water and a miniature range of mountains, upon which animals, trees, and clear lakes could be seen.
"Move it about," Gimli urged, and as Frodo used both hands to gently shake the globe, a shower of silvery snow swirled about, settling on the mountains and causing the lakes to glitter.
"How beautiful!" Rosie said admiringly. She reached out to touch it.
"It is that," Sam agreed. He turned the globe upside-down and then upright, unleashing a new flurry of sparkling snow. "Let’s keep it right here on the mantle."
"For you, Rosie," Gimli said, pulling out a number of small bags of spices from the South that were greatly valued in the Shire - cinnamon and cloves and nutmeg - and lengths of soft, silken fabrics. Rose's eyes glowed with pleasure.
For Frodo and Sam there were belts bearing the Royal Crest, and Gimli had also brought them something crafted by his own apprentice – a prism of clear crystal, precisely cut and shaped.
"Take it near one of the windows, Sam," Gimli said, and everyone cried out in surprise when rainbows of color shot forth from the crystal, reflecting onto walls and faces.
Upending one parcel, Gimli piled a mountain of wrapped sweets onto the table, then passed around small, cunningly-made hinged boxes that could be used to hold jewelry, handkerchiefs, or other small treasures. With a grin, he untied one bulky bag, which had been stuffed full of small treats just for the pups - baked, he told them, in the Royal Kitchens. The rustling of the bag and enticing smells of nut butters, honey, and yams brought all the dogs clustering around excitedly, and each got a biscuit to scamper off and enjoy.
Finally, Gimli presented to Frodo-lad two special gifts to celebrate his coming-of-age. The King had commissioned for him a matched set of silver buttons for a waistcoat or cloak, into which the image of the White Tree had been impressed. Frodo-lad touched them gently, his eyes glowing with joy. But when he opened the second gift, a flat box covered in deep blue velvet, he gasped.
"From the Queen, with her compliments," Gimli said to him. “For your future bride." He glanced at Sam and Rosie, who were beaming with joy for their son.
Frodo-lad carefully lifted from its case a delicate, shimmering net strung with gems.
"It can be clasped as a necklace, like so, or a lass might wear it in her hair," Gimli told him. "This net is not silver, as you might think, but threads of fine mithril. I doubt any hobbit will see its like again. But my boy, the King sends this message: 'Forget not to value and reverence your wife above all gems and treasures, as I do."
Frodo-lad looked up, his eyes full of tears. "I will," he whispered.
The other children were watching in awed silence; the only sounds that could be heard were the crunching of biscuits and the contented thumping of tails. Rose busied herself putting aside some of the gifts to be saved for the Gamgee lads who were apprenticing elsewhere, as well as for Elanor and Fastred when they next visited.
"There is one more thing, Frodo-lad," Gimli said. "Will you meet me in your grotto two nights hence, after Moonrise?"
"There's something else?" Frodo-lad asked, quite overwhelmed.
"Aye," Gimli said. "After all, it is not every day that the firstborn son of Samwise and Rose Gamgee comes of age." He unwrapped several sweets and popped them into his mouth, then produced a sheaf of letters. Frodo and Sam joyfully sorted through messages from Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Legolas, and many others, and were soon reading avidly.
Frodo-lad sat as if in a happy trance while, all about him, there were choruses of "Thank you, Uncle Gimli!" and "Can Dora have another biscuit?" and "You don't have to put all those sweets away for later, do you, Ma?"
~*~
Gimli said nothing more to Frodo-lad about their meeting, but two nights later, he was waiting in the grotto behind Bag End when the boy came soundlessly through the trees towards him. Eȁrendil's star shone brilliantly overhead, as the Dwarf had known it would be.
"Welcome, my boy," Gimli said when Frodo-lad reached him. "Your father reports that you are a scholar of our Quest, and have read your Uncle Frodo's account many times. Tell me, what know you of the craft used for the lettering on the West-door of Moria?"
Frodo-lad was startled at the unexpected question, but proud that he could answer.
"Gandalf said that the writing was done in something called ithildin, but that he had to think a long time before he could remember the words that awakened it so that it could be read by either starlight or moonlight."
"Aye," Gimli said softly, "by starlight or moonlight." He pointed up, and Frodo-lad noticed for the first time the glittering star above them. He heard Gimli murmur something in a low voice, and when he looked back at the Dwarf, he gasped in amazement. The inside of the onyx basin was beginning to glow faintly. As he watched, his heart pounding with excitement, the glow grew brighter, and brighter still, until the light emanating from what he had wistfully called 'the Lady's mirror' was a brilliant silver-white, causing the water within it to sparkle like diamonds.
"As I said before," Gimli said quietly, "there is more than one way to capture a star."
"Uncle Gimli!" Frodo-lad said in great excitement. "Is that really ithildin? Did you put it in the bowl? How long will it last? Wherever did you get it? What did you say to it?"
"Hobbits and their questions," Gimli said in mock dismay.
"I'm sorry," Frodo-lad said contritely. "That's such a lovely thing. Thank you for such a wonderful gift."
"Ah, but there is more," Gimli said. He knelt to retrieve a small crock at his feet. He set it next to the basin and pried out the stopper.
"Behold ithildin, my lad," Gimli said with a great satisfaction. "Or, I should say, ithildin as I have recreated it... something of a mithril-based paint." Frodo-lad suddenly noticed that there was a small paint-brush sticking out of the Dwarf's belt. "When we gathered at the West-door," the Dwarf continued, "I did not think to examine the lettering to see if it had been painted on, or made with the thinnest leaf, as a skilled craftsman can do with gold. In any event, as far as I know, the only ithildin that now exists to be used East of the Sea and possibly West as well, is my own."
Frodo-lad peered inside the crock. "But mithril is a silver color," he said. “This looks like plain water.”
"So it does," Gimli agreed. “The properties of ithildin sleep until the two rare circumstances you mentioned converge - moonlight or starlight to reflect, and the touch of someone who speaks the words to awaken it. After years of effort and many failures, I finally was able to bring mithril to this liquid state. But how to use it? Gandalf sailed away to the West, taking the spell with him, and the ancient Elves are no longer here to consult." He gently touched Galadriel's ring on his finger. "And then one night I dreamed of the Lady, and when I awoke, the forgotten words were upon my lips. That which was known to the wizard, and to a small number of Elves long ago, is now known only to me. To the Dwarves does this secret now belong. Someday I will reveal the words to my apprentice."
Gimli paused, looking into Frodo-lad's eyes. "And you will learn them this night also, if you wish it." He stoppered the crock again, and handed it to the astonished hobbit.
"Will you take this gift, Frodo-lad Gamgee, Dwarf-friend and son of Samwise the Stouthearted? The words I will teach you will be for your ears alone. Ithildin is difficult to make, so it should be used and awakened only after much thought, and when your heart and vision speak as one. Do you agree to these things?"
Tears of joy slid down Frodo-lad's face as he nodded. "I agree," he whispered. Magic, he thought, real magic in the Shire. At last.
"Very well," Gimli said. "Listen carefully and I will teach you the words. Be grateful that they who first crafted ithildin were Elves, and not Dwarves. Ancient Elvish will be easier on a hobbit's throat than the language of my folk!" He chuckled, and Frodo-lad's joy suddenly spilled out in laughter of his own, a sound as bright and clear as the radiant star overhead.
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