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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 301
🕑 Added 2025-11-05 12:56:48 +0000 UTCChapter 301: Entanglement
"Are you searching for him?" Ecthelion asked.
"Not really. I happened to pass through and wanted to visit Thorongil to see how he's been lately. But as you saw, we always miss each other."
"That's unfortunate. However, as long as we live in this world, roads always intersect eventually."
Ecthelion said, "Regarding his whereabouts, I know some details. After arriving at Pelargir, he crossed the Anduin River, leaving Gondor from Ithilien. Perhaps he went south, or possibly east."
"Maybe he discovered something and is conducting deep exploration behind enemy lines."
"This really is..." Ecthelion sighed, unsure what to say.
He harbored no resentment toward Aragorn's departure without word, only finding this pleasing young man truly unpredictable. He did whatever he thought of, startling both enemies and allies with unexpected bold actions.
"Truly regrettable, unable to keep him here," Ecthelion finally said.
Regrettable?
Hearing Ecthelion's words while watching Levi, who seemed to have specifically come seeking that 'Thorongil,' Denethor felt deeply uncomfortable.
Before Thorongil arrived, he was Gondor's most capable general, acclaimed as the most kingly Gondorian in a thousand years, welcomed wherever he went. This made him immensely proud.
When Thorongil reached Gondor, everything changed immediately.
Though reluctant to admit it, Denethor couldn't deny this young man—one year his junior—was genuinely a military genius. His arrival immediately sidelined Denethor, becoming Ecthelion's intimate confidant, receiving the lord's affection and the people's adoration.
His father's favor and the people's support were taken away. This sudden disparity made the always-proud Denethor deeply uncomfortable, unable to accept it for ages.
Throughout the years, he remained subordinate to this sudden stranger, overshadowed by his dazzling brilliance.
Under various emotions, he began secretly investigating 'Thorongil's' identity. This investigation yielded startling results.
My father... he's no ordinary person. That grey-robed wizard clearly intends for him to become Gondor's lord.
Denethor's feelings grew complex. He sensed a premonition that perhaps the age of Gondor's steward rule would end in his hands.
Morally, this was certainly good. Yet falling upon himself, combined with previous matters, made Denethor's feelings rather awkward.
Not everyone could calmly accept sudden rises and falls.
For various reasons, regarding Aragorn's departure, Denethor felt no regret whatsoever—even secretly delighted.
"Well, gone is gone. Everyone has their own aspirations; one cannot forcibly retain them."
Levi concluded the topic with one sentence, turning to say, "Better we look at this tall, strong 'Tower Commander' beside us. Recently, I've heard considerable things about Denethor."
Tower Commander—similar to Rohan's Marshal, directly commanding the capital's armies, typically inherited by the steward's heir.
"He's accomplished considerable deeds and is quite excellent."
"Right? Our most kingly Gondorian."
Levi raised his head, patting this tall youth's shoulder.
This really is... Whether Denethor or Aragorn, these young men with Dúnedain blood were each taller than the last, averaging over six feet tall.
With such physiques, which orc wouldn't fear them?
Imagine a muscular figure half a meter taller than oneself charging forward in intimidating armor, wielding sharp blades and shields, shouting—truly terrifying.
Facing Levi's sudden topic shift, the complex-faced Denethor first froze, then straightened, accepting the praise readily.
Levi observed this capable leader, nodding.
Whether illusion or not, it seemed this fellow brightened considerably upon his arrival.
Seems after so many years apart, Denethor had missed him quite a bit.
"Come now, little fellow. I know you must have missed me. Let Uncle give you a hug."
Levi opened both arms.
This abrupt gesture completely befuddled both Denethor and Ecthelion.
Especially Denethor—now past forty, though still relatively young, already bearing time's marks upon his face.
Hearing Levi speak this way, he nearly choked on his own saliva.
Denethor slightly lowered his head, hastily saying, "You should know I'm no longer a little fellow, Uncle Levi. I've witnessed raging flames and flowing blood, seen valleys filled with noxious miasmas. I've charged before soldiers, personally experiencing sword and spear points..."
"Of course, I know your experiences. However, in my view, you'll forever be that inexperienced youth. Don't you remember? When young, I even held you..."
"No, you didn't. I refused back then."
"Oh, really? No matter. Regardless of how much time passes, to me you'll always be a child. Come now, let Uncle embrace you."
Levi stepped forward steadily.
"No, wait—I said no!"
Denethor retreated step by step while casting pleading glances toward the distance.
Ecthelion sat by the table, laughing awkwardly without moving.
Father, why do you simply sit there watching?
The reception hall wasn't very quiet that day.
Moments later, Denethor emerged looking thoroughly uncomfortable.
That embrace was far too hot—literally speaking.
Yes, Levi forgot to change his armor again.
Another victim of the dragonfire steel armor.
Only dwarves could embrace Levi without issue, his armor overlooked.
Though departing with a stern expression, clearly Denethor's steps seemed noticeably lighter.
Observing this change, the elderly father Ecthelion smiled, lowering his head to sip his tea.
As the saying goes, "A man who knows his son is a father; a ruler who knows his minister is a lord."
Ecthelion possessed both—they were both father-son and lord-subject.
He witnessed every aspect of Denethor throughout these years.
But some things cannot be changed just because. Ecthelion didn't show favoritism toward Denethor simply because he was his son.
His trust in and closeness to Aragorn demonstrated his fairness.
Once Denethor had left, Levi turned back to Ecthelion, picking up their conversation where they'd left it.
Topics ranged from south to north, east to west—truly catching up properly.
Not long after the Pelargir fleet's triumphant return, just as Gondor people claimed, Aragorn disembarked at the Harondor border between Ithilien and south of Pelargir, abandoning his small boat.
His journey through Rohan and Gondor ended. Next targets were south and east.
Here, he would embark on a solitary journey, exploring alone the questions of good and evil among mankind.
Also seeking opportunities to uncover Sauron's schemes and conspiracies, gathering useful intelligence.
When beginning travel across Harondor's wilderness, memories surfaced in Aragorn's mind.
He'd heard Uncle Levi once fought here, subduing the Harad River valley army commander to his knees, forcing them to retreat while covering a Gondor ranger squad's withdrawal.
Ha...
Thinking this, Aragorn suddenly laughed.
In some sense, he was now following in that man's footsteps. Seemingly, wherever one went, that person's legends existed.
