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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 321
🕑 Added 2025-11-13 18:24:20 +0000 UTCChapter 321: The One Who Never Knocks
Saruman’s little projects continued in secret.
Yes, in secret…
“Why do you never knock?”
At the top of the tower, staring at the unwelcome intruder, Saruman quietly gathered up his research papers and shielded them behind his back.
“Relax. Not here to pick a fight.”
Levi dropped into a chair as if he owned it, glanced at the documents behind Saruman, and asked, “What’s that? Mind if I take a—”
“No.”
“Alright.”
“If you have business, say it. As you can see, I am busy.” Saruman sounded impatient.
Every day, he had to watch the Orc-breeding pits, run analyses and hands-on trials, and keep tabs on his underlings. It was already enough to fray the nerves.
“Some Orcs ran out from your side.”
Levi’s first sentence landed like a hammer. Saruman’s eyelid twitched.
Luckily, his face always wore a mask of calm. No one could read much there.
“Where? I’ve heard nothing.”
“North of Enedwaith, nearly inside my borders.”
In an even tone, Saruman said, “Ah, those Orcs. I know. My men reported it. I sent allies to remove them.”
As he spoke, his eyelid jumped again.
Tone did not tell the whole tale.
Right now, the old wizard’s heart thudded in his chest.
At least keep what was already gained…
“Timely enough. Your Enedwaith friends moved quickly.”
Levi’s voice was casual, like passing chat.
Or perhaps this really was only a passing chat.
With a low sigh, Levi stood. The heat from his armor washed by Saruman and left the White Wizard’s mouth a touch dry.
Levi strolled to the window and looked out over Isengard.
“The view remains fine here—may it always be so. See there, the clear sky, gardens woven green and red, the orchards, the clean lake that mirrors the sky, and the mountains beyond…”
“A pleasant place to walk, no doubt.”
“Of course,” Saruman answered without looking up, hands moving nonstop as he packed his work away.
“A pity some do not cherish it, treating all this as things of no worth.”
Shing—
Levi suddenly drew Nemesis, the blade he had not used in some time.
Saruman jumped.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
Levi checked the unlit edge, gave it a lazy flourish, then slid it back.
Looked like the nearby air was clean enough for now.
“Crude. Touch my archives or notes, and I will not forgive it. Whether your sword nicks something or your armor sets something alight by accident, I will not overlook it.”
“Relax. I respect the fruits of wisdom and work.”
Levi patted the desk beside him. “Armor and sword are mine to control. After all, those belong to me.”
He paused a beat, fixing Saruman with a look, then added, “I hope you can do the same: keep a tight rein on what is yours.”
“Heh…” Saruman gave a dry smile.
“Of course. I can manage what is mine—whatever it is.”
“By the way, how goes your research into the beacons? Any progress after all these years?”
The shift of subject was abrupt, but Saruman welcomed it. He held up his hand and pinched a tiny space between finger and thumb.
“A little.”
“A little?”
“Yes. A very little.”
Hearing this, Levi tilted his head, glanced at the desk, then back at Saruman, wearing a look just short of disbelief.
“Believe as you like. It is private work. You should be grateful I’ve told you that much.”
That finally made Levi laugh.
“Fine, fine. Your private work. No need to share.”
Their small talk did not last.
Just as Levi had said, he was not here to make trouble—only to stop by on the way.
As for his true destination—
Rohan.
At the tower’s crown, watching Levi depart, Saruman let out a breath.
“Gandalf, Levi… vexations both.”
He stepped back inside.
The first liked to roam, but left some trace. Even if he found something, Saruman could manage it.
The second was unreasonable and unpredictable, like a Barrow-wight might drift up behind you and give you a fright at any time.
And there was nothing to be done about him.
As an ally, reliable—yet…
Saruman stopped and thought.
Yes, why not an ally?
The reason was tangled. For one, the first time he saw Levi, the man stood beside Gandalf; it was plain that those two were together.
The end was written there.
He shook off the useless thought and bent to his work again.
“Soon. Very soon…”
His “beacon” research had come far more than a little…
…
“How have you been?”
In Rohan’s capital, within the Golden Hall atop the city, Levi met this king of the day, Théoden.
“Very well. Quite well.”
Théoden greeted him warmly, and they shared a brief embrace.
“Good. Seeing you in such health is a relief.”
It meant Saruman had yet to set his mind against him.
After greeting Théoden, Levi’s gaze passed beyond him into the hall. He looked left and right, making many of the court uneasy.
Some nodded at him calmly. Some kept their eyes down. Some, afraid of his eyes, glanced elsewhere.
Seeing it, Théoden murmured, “Uncle, are you looking for someone?”
“In a way.” Levi’s answer was vague enough to muddle listeners.
“Perhaps I can help?” Théoden offered gently.
“No need. Only having a look.”
“A look?”
“To see if any treacherous tongues might bring harm to Rohan.”
He did not whisper it. He stood in the doorway and spoke in a normal voice.
It rang in the ears like a sharp note.
Thump.
Many hearts sped.
There was no help for it. If he wished, he truly could cut down every soul present.
“Every soul” might even include the guards outside and the garrison nearby.
“Have you received the secret word?” Théoden asked.
Compared to his trembling nobles, he stood steady—born of a lifetime’s trust in and time with Levi.
Still, curiosity remained.
“Not exactly. Only a premonition.”
Levi swept the hall again. “For the moment, nothing gravely harmful.”
He meant Wormtongue, of course. It seemed the snake had not yet wriggled into Meduseld.
“Sometimes, trust those close to you more. Do not heed strangers’ counsel alone.”
“I understand,” Théoden nodded.
Levi smiled. “I have seen it. These years, Rohan has known peace and plenty.”
“As a warrior and as a king, you have done well.”
The figure before him overlapped a memory.
Levi was silent for a second more, then added,
“…You have your father’s bearing.”
Théoden blinked.
“That is high praise to me.”
