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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 354
🕑 Added 2025-12-06 03:12:32 +0000 UTCChapter 354: Sudden Invasion
“This is no good sign.”
Trolls rimed with killing cold, Wargs, and Orcs whose origin and allegiance no one could name.
“What do you intend to do?” Gandalf asked Levi.
“What else? Go and see,” Levi said.
“Then I am coming with you,” Gandalf decided at once.
“Are you not going to see to the matter of the One Ring first?” Levi asked.
“That cannot be hurried. Or rather, there is no way to hurry it,” Gandalf said.
“So you have other plans?” Levi said.
“I do,” Gandalf answered.
“This is no small thing. I mean to send Aragorn to call in the other allies, so that we can take counsel together.”
“What do you think?” he added.
“It makes sense,” Levi said.
“I have no grand designs on that Ring. In the worst case, we meet Mordor head on and fight one more great war. But that is a touch too bold for my taste. You know me. I am a cautious man.”
Cautious?
Gandalf’s mouth twitched.
Only Levi could say such a thing of himself.
“If there is a better way, I have no objection to giving it my backing,” Levi finished.
“That is best,” Gandalf said, easing a little.
With Levi’s support, he left for a while to speak with Aragorn.
And so Aragorn had work again.
“Where are you going?” Frodo asked when he saw the ranger making ready to leave. Of late, he had grown closest to him.
“Rivendell,” Aragorn said, in his usual brief way.
“Rivendell?” Frodo’s eyes lit at once.
“The very place Bilbo went to?”
“Bilbo?” Aragorn shrugged. “Yes. There is a Hobbit by that name there.”
“Brilliant!” Frodo cried and started packing on the spot.
“I will go with you. I have not seen Bilbo in so long. I do not even know how he is.”
“He is well,” Aragorn said.
“I saw him there last time I went to Rivendell. He was deep in his writing. I did not disturb him.”
“Writing!” the other three Hobbits chorused, crowding in.
“It has been so long. His book must be finished by now,” Merry said.
“Last time we sneaked a look we only saw half. The rest was still blank,” Pippin said.
“Rivendell is the home of those Elves we saw on the road, is it not?” Sam added.
“Please, take us with you,” they begged Aragorn.
He nodded slowly.
“I can, but…”
“You met Elves on the way here?” another voice cut in.
Levi had finished with Gandalf and wandered over.
“Yes,” Aragorn said.
“We met Gildor, a Noldorin Elf of the House of Finrod. This spring he led a small company on pilgrimage to Amon Sûl. They were only just returning when we crossed paths.”
“It was the first time I had seen Elves,” Frodo said, still excited.
“They were just as the tales said: tall, graceful, and mostly very kind.”
“And the rest?” Levi asked, amused.
“Er… I hear there are Wood-elves in Mirkwood…” Frodo said, a little sheepishly.
That drew a laugh from Aragorn.
The Wood-elves had a hard time of it, reputation-wise.
“Take them,” Levi said. “Bilbo will be glad to see them.”
At his urging, Aragorn agreed, and the four Hobbits went with him.
They did not leave at once. They rested in Roadside Keep for several days before they set out.
The road from the Keep to Rivendell lay entirely under Levi’s protection. There was almost no danger on it. They could walk at their ease.
They followed the great road, crossed the Last Bridge, took a lingering look at the famous Trollshaws, and at last came, unhurried, to the hidden valley.
Elrond came to meet them and welcomed them warmly, and Frodo at last had the meeting he had longed for with Bilbo.
“Lately? I have been doing exceedingly well,” Bilbo said, beaming.
“You have changed so much, Bilbo,” Frodo said.
He took in the white hair and the first real lines of age on his uncle’s face and felt a pang.
“I have, yes,” Bilbo said.
“Since I came here, that feeling of being pulled and stretched has gone.”
Frodo smiled. Bilbo took him round the fairest places in Rivendell, and Frodo’s eyes grew wider with every turn.
“What a wonderful land,” he breathed.
“How does it compare to Roadside Keep? I hear you stayed there a while,” Bilbo asked.
Frodo hesitated, then said, “They are equal.”
“But the Keep is far livelier.”
“That, I cannot deny,” Bilbo laughed.
“I did wrestle with the choice, you know. Roadside Keep or Rivendell. The people and Elves in both places are kind and good. In the end, I chose here.”
“Chiefly because I love the high, quiet beauty here. And I can see Elves every day. They teach me things. It all goes into the new book.”
“There are Elves in Roadside Keep too, of course, but they are so busy. Every Elf there has a troop of pupils. I would have to book an appointment just to see one.”
“Speaking of which, where is Levi? Did he not come with you?” he asked.
“It has been an age since I last saw him.”
“Levi and Gandalf are together. They have gone further north from the Keep. Some urgent business, I think,” Frodo said.
“What a pity,” Bilbo sighed.
Far away, in the ruined fortress of Carn Dûm among the snowy peaks of Angmar, Gandalf sucked in a sharp breath on the wall-walk.
“I know this armour too well,” he said.
“Even torn to scraps, the look of it is unmistakable.”
Prodding the frozen corpse at his feet with his staff, he went on,
“In my judgement, they are of the same kind as the Orcs we have fought before, but they are not of the same host.”
“These are Morgoth’s soldiers. They are likely the very first Orcs, survivors from the First Age. I cannot guess where they have been hiding all this time.”
“I would lay a wager that if you dropped them among the Orcs of the Misty Mountains or Mordor, the two sides would be at each other’s throats in a heartbeat.”
Levi crouched and studied the corpse, feeling the chill seep from it.
“This is interesting,” he said.
“Very interesting,” Gandalf agreed.
He bent closer.
“Where in all the world did they come from?” he murmured.
“The answer is probably further north,” Levi said.
He thought a moment and came to a decision.
“Gandalf, I—”
He broke off.
From the mountain slopes in the distance came a rising clamour.
A strong host of monsters was charging down from the heights. They slammed into the broken walls of Carn Dûm. Trolls battered the long-neglected gate to splinters. Wargs slipped in like ghosts, hunting for the scent of living flesh. After them came the Orcs, shrieking as they poured through the gaps, yellow eyes rolling as they searched.
They were doomed to be disappointed.
There were no “Men” here, not as they understood the word. Only a wizard and a Levi.
The old garrison had long since withdrawn.
Swish.
Levi drew his Dragonflame Steel greatsword and leapt from the wall with a crash, cleaving through a swathe of Wargs. One sweep of the blade cut down a whole rank of Orcs.
A handful of crazed snow-trolls lumbered in, hoping to bog him down.
Flash.
A searing white light burst across the wall. The trolls reeled, stunned, halted in their tracks.
Levi was on them in a heartbeat, his sword rising and falling in a flurry, finishing them with clean, efficient blows.
“Good flash,” he called up.
