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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 362
🕑 Added 2025-12-10 13:29:40 +0000 UTCChapter 362: Gifts
The reforging of Narsil would take time, and so would the preparations of the Fellowship and all the other powers.
When the council broke up, no one set out at once. They stayed on a while in Rivendell, waiting until all was in readiness before the journey truly began.
As for those preparations, the first concern was the safety of the surrounding lands.
Elrond met privately with Levi to speak of the situation nearby.
“I had thought to send out every scout in Rivendell to comb the country around us,” Elrond said, lifting a small stone pot and pouring steaming tea into Levi’s cup, “but it seems that may not be necessary.”
“That is so,” Levi answered, with no false modesty.
“You need not trouble yourself over the safety of the road, at least not west of the Misty Mountains. The wilds there are full of our people. Even if someone walked out with no supplies at all, a few cries for help would bring folk running with enough to see them far along their way.”
“And if no one comes?” Elrond asked, half in jest.
“Then shout a few more times, or walk on a bit and ask at the nearest outpost,” Levi said. “Gandalf travels that road often. He knows where all our supply points lie.”
“That eases my mind,” Elrond said.
He let out a breath. At least the scouting of the near country was no longer his worry.
Even so, to guard against mishap, Levi sent word to both of his cities to tighten their watch and sweep all of Eriador for any hint of hidden danger.
When they had finished with the matter of the starting-point’s safety, Elrond went back to his many other tasks, and Levi turned to his own plans.
That afternoon, he went to the Hobbits’ quarters.
“Hey. You there, the sturdy lad. Over here,” he called.
In a quiet court, he waved to the young Hobbit who was admiring the view.
The sturdy lad was, of course, Sam.
“G–good day, my lord,” Sam stammered.
He trotted over, looking up at Levi a little nervously. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Levi could not help smiling at such stiff politeness.
“You are Sam, yes? Samwise Gamgee. I know you. Your father is often at Bilbo’s house. We have met a few times. The year you were born, I happened to be visiting the Shire. I even held you once.”
He clapped Sam on the shoulder and looked him up and down.
“You have filled out a fair bit since then,” he said.
At that, Sam suddenly felt this far-off figure of legend become much more familiar, like some distant uncle who had known him since he was in swaddling clothes.
Others might have flushed with embarrassment at such talk, especially a certain thoughtful captain of Gondor, but Hobbits were different. They loved nothing better than talking of who was kin to whom, and which cousin married into which branch of what family, and once they started, they could go on all night, even with someone they had only just met.
Pippin, for instance, could sit in an inn and reel off Frodo’s entire family tree, then turn round and explain how he himself was related, and so on and so on.
Hobbits did love their homely gossip.
“Really?” Sam said, wide-eyed.
“Of course. Did your father never tell you? There was one time I went to visit Bilbo and found the two of them sharing a bottle. It was one of your father’s old vintages. He had been saving it for years, and I got a cup or two as well.”
Sam listened, full of wonder.
“What a strange stroke of fortune…” he murmured.
“Is it not? The world is like that. One twist of fate can bind this person and that together,” Levi said.
After that small piece of family talk, he did not forget why he had called Sam over.
“I know you and Frodo are close,” he said. “You set out because you feared for his safety. That kind of friendship is something to envy.”
Under Sam’s gaze, he drew out a sword: a short, finely-made blade with a faint, shimmering light along its edge.
He had forged it only days before. Its base strength was no less than most Elvish blades: keen as a razor. On top of that, Levi had laid several enchantments upon it.
The deadliest of them all was Bane of Arthropods V. Against spider-kind it would strike with several times its normal power.
On the blade, a single line had been etched:
[Forged by Levi, given to those who set forth on the Quest.]
“I will give you this,” Levi said. “It may help you at some crucial moment.”
“Though in truth, I hope you never have to use it.”
“I’ll remember that, sir,” Sam said.
He took the short sword with great care and bowed over it.
When he had left Sam’s lodgings, Levi went to look for Pippin and Merry. By chance, he found someone else there with them.
“Aglar? What are you doing here?” he said.
His first Elvish friend was chatting happily with the two Hobbits.
“You are here, Levi,” Aglar said, turning at once at the sound of his voice.
“I came to bring these Hobbits some things they will need. Weapons and the like. See?”
He pointed at Merry and Pippin. Each of them held a sword that looked more than sharp enough.
“So I see,” Levi said, laughing and shaking his head. “Seems I need not have worried.”
Even so, he took their gear for a moment and laid his own enchantments upon it as well.
When he had finished and passed the blades back, he and Aglar talked a while longer. Then Levi went on his way again, this time to find Frodo.
He came upon him walking with Bilbo, the two of them sharing all that had happened over the years.
There was little Levi could give Frodo now.
For armour, he already wore a shirt of mithril mail as tough as Netherite. In that coat, even if a troll drove a spear at him with enough force to skewer a wild ox, he would come away with little worse than a flesh wound.
As for a weapon, the sword in his hand, Sting, was no common toy, however plain it might look.
On that score, Levi truly had no need to worry.
But gear was only one side of things. There were other matters that could not be settled with armour and steel.
After a long, warm talk with uncle and nephew, it grew late. Bilbo, old as he was, could not keep his eyes open any longer and went off to bed.
Frodo, too, found himself blinking with sleep.
He glanced at Levi, who still looked perfectly alert.
“I do not know if it is just my imagination,” he said, “but I keep feeling as if you never need to sleep.”
“Sleep?” Levi said.
He thought a moment.
“Now and then, yes,” he said at last. “But to me, it is more of a pastime than a need.”
“How strange,” Frodo said.
He could not picture such a thing, not right now, when he could barely stand upright.
“Frodo,” Levi said suddenly.
Frodo looked up at once.
“Journeys are full of the unexpected,” Levi said.
“I have made many preparations, but there are things even I cannot foresee.”
“I cannot give you any absolute promise. Nor can I walk at your side on this road.”
“But I will do all that lies within my power, in my own way, to keep you safe.”
…
Clip-clop…
Hoofbeats sounded at the gate of Rivendell.
At first light, Levi rode out.
There were still days to go before the Fellowship would depart. With everyone busy, to expect Levi to sit quietly in Rivendell would have been too much to ask.
He was not idle, in any case.
West of the Misty Mountains, he had already set Roadside Keep and the Water-city on alert. Now he took the Sky-road once more, flying towards the lands on the eastern side of the mountains.
Rhovanion and the Vale of the River were at peace. Outposts there were manned at all hours, keeping unblinking watch on Dol Guldur and laying their own plans for an assault.
No doubt Saruman was close to the end of his patience by now.
