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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 332
🕑 Added 2025-11-23 16:14:38 +0000 UTCChapter 332: Watching Over
Bilbo lifted the mug of milk and drained it in one go.
“Mm. Same as ever. Just like before.”
Which was to say, it hardly had any taste at all.
“Really? You meant to count that as part of what you leave behind as well?”
When he finished drinking, Gandalf asked.
“Of course. I have no use for it. Look at it. It is so pretty and full of strange magic. If I kept it, it would only sit here gathering dust and never do anything again. That would be a terrible waste…”
“Waste…?”
As he spoke, Bilbo began to sound puzzled by his own words.
“Why should it be a waste?”
He drew the ring from his pocket.
Boom.
For an instant, the room seemed to darken. Gandalf blinked, his breath catching in his throat. It took several heartbeats for him to steady himself.
On the other side, Levi glanced at the ring in Bilbo’s hand.
Plip.
Like a drop of water falling into a lake, a faint ripple passed through his heart, but it did not disturb the depths.
He had faced Sauron himself many times over the years. If a single look at the Ring was still enough to slap some debuff on him, he would have been far too weak.
At the very least, until he actually laid a hand on it, that corruption bar that no ordinary means could scrub away was not going to tick any higher.
“No. Why should I give it away?” Bilbo muttered. “It is mine. I found it. Mine, my… my precious…”
On that side of the room, he was still lost in the thing he held.
The stain of the One Ring went too deep to be washed out with a daily cup of milk.
If it had left not the slightest mark on him, Bilbo would not have lived this long. Like Gollum, his spirit had been stretched thin by the constant contact.
Even so, he had changed far less. He had only “failed to show his age.”
He had not become a Gollum.
Perhaps that came down to his own heart and what resistance lay in it.
But sixty years was a long time. Even a mind as steady as Bilbo’s could not help but crack a little at last.
And Sauron’s return had its share in it.
As one who had come face to face with Sauron not long ago, Levi had the keenest sense of it. The Dark Lord’s power was returning.
Sauron had grown less hasty. There was a feeling in him now as if all things lay within his grasp.
“Bilbo Baggins!”
Levi was still thinking of their last clash when Gandalf suddenly spoke Bilbo’s full name, his voice like thunder.
At the same moment, a nameless terror flared from him, making the heart quail.
For an instant, the Grey Wizard showed a little of what he truly was.
It was only a little. It was enough to cow any mortal.
Bilbo froze where he stood. Every muscle locked. There was no trace of longing for the Ring in his eyes now.
“Wake up, old friend.”
The awe of it ebbed. Gandalf gentled, returning to his usual warmth.
Bilbo stumbled forward and clung to him, shaking.
“I only want to help you, Bilbo,” Gandalf said softly, patting his back. “As before. Trust my judgement.”
“Leave it.”
Bilbo hesitated.
Under the combined weight of both their gazes, he drew a breath and at last nodded.
“You are right.”
Once more, he brought out the Ring. Before their eyes, he squeezed his eyes shut and let his fingers open.
Thunk.
The Ring struck the floor. Somehow, that tiny sound carried a strange heaviness.
Bilbo let out a long breath, as if some great weight had fallen from his shoulders. His whole body seemed lighter.
“I am off, then.”
He smiled. “I mean to see all the places I have dreamed of. I want to look once more on Roadside Keep, on the new City of Water, on the Lonely Mountain beyond the range, and in the end go to Rivendell.”
“And finish my book. The one I have been writing all this time.”
“I have already thought of the ending.”
“‘And he lived happily ever after, to the end of his days.’”
“Farewell, Gandalf. Farewell, Levi.”
He came to them and gave each a last embrace in turn.
“Farewell, Bilbo.”
Levi crouched a little to look him in the eye.
“We will meet again.”
Bilbo nodded.
A little later, he set out, his steps accompanied by a soft, lilting song.
“Out of the door where it all begins…”
…
Inside the house, Gandalf slowly approached the Ring on the floor and reached down to pick it up.
Boom.
Just before his fingers touched it, a shape wreathed in harsh flame flashed through his mind.
“I felt his presence. That evil, dark, fathomless power. There is no mistake.”
Gandalf could not help turning to look at Levi, who had been quietly “idling” in the corner, saying nothing. For a moment, he was not sure how to arrange his own face.
“You know something of this, Levi. You must,” he said.
“Of course. I have known for a very long time.”
Levi did not tease it out, but said plainly, “That is the One Ring. Yes. The Master Ring.”
“How can you be certain?”
Gandalf still looked doubtful. He said almost by reflex, “Saruman told me the One was swept out to sea long ago, carried by the river, and could never be found.”
“And in fact, to all eyes, the One Ring has been gone from the world for thousands of years.”
From the year 2 of the Third Age until now, almost three thousand years have passed without any clear sign of it.
“Do not trust Saruman blindly. He has his own designs,” Levi said, rising and walking over.
Gandalf stepped aside and laid the Ring bare between them.
They both stared down at the circle of gold.
If the One Ring had feelings, it would likely have been sweating.
“What do you feel?” Gandalf asked.
“Nothing good. It is heavy, smothering, dark. And if you could move over a little, that would help. If I stand up now, I am bound to crack my head on a beam. You are blocking the light as well.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Gandalf shuffled aside.
He still could hardly believe it. Too much hinged on this small thing.
The fate of the world might turn around it.
“Can it truly be?” he murmured, shaking his head.
“If it is…”
He looked at Levi.
Levi shook his own head at once.
“Do not look at me. I am not touching it.”
Gandalf rolled his eyes. “Then why do you think I am not touching it?”
They both stood and went back to the table. Gandalf lit his pipe. Levi poured himself tea.
The Ring lay by the door, untouched.
“This touches too many things, Levi. I must be certain it is truly the One before I can act,” Gandalf said.
“You are too cautious,” Levi replied.
“Not ‘too’ cautious. Simply cautious enough.”
If this was indeed the One Ring, then what followed would likely be the final war of light and shadow.
The whole world would be thrown into upheaval.
“No one will be able to stand aside.”
Gandalf fixed Levi with a steady look.
“As the leader of the greatest realm of Men today, you know that as well as I.”
Along Mordor’s borders, three realms of Men were holding watch in their different ways: the Free Cities, Rohan, and Gondor.
The Free Cities needed no explanation. They simply barred the northern road with strength, walling out the dark.
Gondor had the Steward’s iron will and soldiers bold in war. They held the Witch-king and the Orcs at Mordor’s gate in check, while also fighting Corsairs from the south and Haradrim on their borders. They bore the heaviest load.
Rohan played the supporting shield. Its riders ranged the plains day and night, watching the East for Orcs that slipped through the central lands, and clashing with the men of Enedwaith in the West. They were busy, but they held the upper hand.
Thinking of all this, Gandalf asked, “If a final war came, as in the Second Age, could you be sure of standing firm?”
“Hard to say.”
“Hard to say?”
Now Gandalf was the one taken aback.
“I thought you would be quite confident.”
“There is confidence. There are also many shadows I cannot yet see clearly.”
Levi set out his own findings.
“You do not know. Last year, Saruman used the Palantír in Orthanc. He was almost turned by Sauron.”
“Almost the same day you left.”
“Luckily, I arrived just one step behind you, and we avoided real trouble.”
“Now the Orthanc-stone is at the top of the Nameless Tower in Roadside Keep. I use it now and then.”
“That is not exactly comforting,” Gandalf said, shaking his head.
Saruman had been too rash. Not steady enough. Not humble enough.
After a beat, Gandalf asked, “What did you see?”
“Armies without end.”
Levi cast his mind back to the visions.
“Just around Barad-dûr, there are tens of thousands of Orcs. Trolls, Giant Spiders, and great beasts by the score. And things that fly, some kind of inferior cross-bred dragon stock.”
“That is only in the inner regions of Mordor. I could see only a sliver of the rest, both within and beyond. Even so, I would guess that Mordor and its allies together could raise at least a hundred thousand—perhaps twice that.”
“And that is only the upper layer of what there is to know.”
“A hundred thousand or more…”
Gandalf rolled the number over in his mind and fell silent.
The peace and prosperity of the Free Cities in recent decades had blunted some of his nerves. He had almost begun to believe things were going well.
They were not.
Even with the rise of the Free Cities, the Free Peoples only held a “slight advantage.”
Without them, they would have been in dire straits. Sauron would not even have needed the Ring. A straight march would have been enough to take Middle-earth.
To destroy the Ring had never been a gambler’s stroke. It was the only move left when all others failed.
“That is why, though I have long known the One Ring lay here, I have still not touched it,” Levi said.
Back then, Roadside Keep itself had barely been built. Levi, too, had not been strong enough to see things through.
Even now, the cautious course would be hard. The aggressive…
If the Ring could not be destroyed, Morder would have to burn.
Of course, if the least costly road could be found, the cautious path was still better.
Levi met Gandalf’s gaze.
“As I said, I tried my own way of destroying it. Long ago. I failed. Every time.”
Gandalf blew out a ribbon of smoke.
“That is only natural. No Ring of Power is easily broken.”
“This must be decided very carefully.”
“For now, I think we should first decide how to deal with the Ring on the floor.”
No sooner were the words out than footsteps sounded plainly at the door.
“I did not think Uncle Bilbo would really go,” Frodo said as he stepped inside.
“What is this?”
He stooped, picked up the One Ring, turned it over in his fingers and scratched his head.
It looked like nothing at all.
Gandalf’s brow twitched.
Levi looked from Frodo to Gandalf and lifted his own brow.
They exchanged a glance, then, without speaking, both turned to Frodo together.
There was meaning in their eyes.
“That is your uncle’s ring. One of the things he has left you,” Gandalf said.
“Do not worry. He has gone to live with the Elves.”
He picked up the letter from the mantel.
“As for Bag End and all Bilbo’s estate, including that ring, they have been given over to you.”
“Come, Frodo.”
Gandalf opened the envelope and held it out for Frodo to slip the ring inside.
Without a flicker of doubt, Frodo pushed the ring into the letter. His hands did not pause, as if it truly were nothing more than some trinket of no great worth.
Snap.
The seal went down on the envelope.
“It is set. With Bag End, this ring is now yours.”
“Keep it safe, Frodo. Let no one see it.”
Handing the sealed letter to Frodo, Gandalf finally exhaled.
Without thinking, he glanced at Levi once more.
Levi said,
“Looks like we have bought ourselves a little more time.”
“Go and do what you must, Gandalf. I will watch things here.”
“I promise. Everything will be well.”
