Malphegor
patreon
LOTR: TMCP Ch. 275
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 02:31:41 +0000 UTC"Garrett!"
Outside the golden great hall, Thengel called out loudly and strode toward that familiar figure.
"It's been a long time. You still look as well as ever."
"You too..."
Garrett wanted to exchange pleasantries, but when he saw Thengel's haggard face, the rest of the words stuck in his throat.
"You seem rather busy."
"Indeed."
Thengel gave a weary smile and took a deep breath.
"There are too many things in Rohan that need managing. It took me quite a bit of effort to clean up the mess left behind."
"The former king must have left you quite a burden. You've really had a difficult time of it."
"It's not too troublesome. At least it was all internal affairs."
He didn't seem overly concerned.
"The people of Rohan are very united. With his precedent, their expectations and demands of me have been much more reasonable. I've met almost no resistance when carrying out orders."
"Well, that's one of his few contributions."
Garrett only smiled faintly at that remark, saying nothing more.
He didn't press further on the topic and instead asked, "Since everything is going so smoothly, then what is it that's made you look so worn out?"
At Garrett's question, Thengel sighed helplessly.
"Internal matters are manageable enough. But besides those, problems have cropped up along the borders. The Dunlendings seem to have reached some sort of agreement with the orcs. For the past few years, they've been harassing us frequently along the frontier."
"Oh?" Garrett raised an eyebrow.
"But in the past year they've quieted down considerably. Both the Dunlendings and the orcs suddenly pulled back. It's strange."
"Hmm." Garrett nodded, quietly striking something from his plans.
"That sounds quite good to me. Peace within and without. Could there still be some other trouble?"
Thengel paused for a moment, then finally sighed.
"Yes, peace within and without, that's exactly why those people in the great hall have turned their attention to me."
"They strongly disapprove of my private life, simply because in daily life I prefer to speak in the language of Gondor."
"So, did you compromise?"
"Of course not. Let them talk as they wish."
On that matter, Garrett had nothing more to say.
"Enough about me, Garrett. What brings you here this time?"
"There is something."
Moments later, in the council chamber, Garrett spread out a map and explained to Thengel about the situation across the northern Wold in the lands between the rivers.
"Of course, if that's your wish, I'll support it. I doubt anyone will object. I'll make the announcement afterward."
Thengel agreed almost immediately, without even consulting Rohan's high council.
Those idle courtiers had been gossiping about him for days, he was glad to have something new to divert their attention.
"That's excellent."
Once things were settled, Garrett rolled up the map and rose to his feet.
Seeing him stand, Thengel looked up and asked, "You're leaving already?"
"Yes. With business finished, I plan to travel elsewhere."
"Your movements are always so swift."
Thengel fixed his gaze on Garrett, as if wanting to say something more.
But Garrett waited and waited, and no words came.
At last, the king simply smiled gently and said, "Safe travels."
A few days later.
Gondor, the White City.
After a long absence, Garrett once again entered the palace at its highest point.
This time, the one seated in the position of Ruling Steward was Ecthelion, and standing beside the Steward's seat was Denethor.
Such is the way of succession, old giving way to new.
Garrett felt a twinge of emotion.
He greeted them: "How have things been lately?"
"Better than ever before."
Ecthelion smiled as he responded, stepping forward to clasp Garrett's hand.
"These past few years have gone quite well. Mordor has made no major moves. I truly hope this situation can last."
In this era, to be without war meant it was a good time.
Few places could enjoy absolute peace. Even Garrett's own domain, which on the surface appeared utterly tranquil with no enemy approaching,
That peace was bought by the Rangers of Wayfort, who each day walked the razor's edge of danger, trading sword and blood for safety.
If not for them, things would look very different.
At this thought, Ecthelion sighed as well.
"In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed. I envy you, Garrett, you can wander freely without restraint, while I must constantly keep watch over everything here, lest something unexpected happen."
"Even in times like these, when peace holds."
Moments later, the two of them, with Denethor in tow, moved into the garden. Over afternoon tea, they chatted about small, recent happenings.
At that moment, Ecthelion and Denethor listened intently, on the opposite side, Garrett was recounting the first Legion Tournament at Wayfort.
When they heard about the legion champion facing Garrett in combat, and especially Yavin's skillful evasions and counterattacks, both of them exclaimed in admiration.
Ecthelion marveled at Garrett's overwhelming strength, unchanged as ever. As a lord, his power was absolute; before him, everyone else could only ever be a challenger.
Even if Ecthelion thought back to his own younger, stronger days, at most he could claim to be "skilled," never a "champion."
A ruler who held both authority and unmatched strength, a figure truly enviable.
Denethor's focus, however, was different.
What caught his attention immediately were the maneuvers of that legion champion, Yavin.
Remarkable, so remarkable that even the most elite of Ithilien's rangers might not match such skill.
After finishing the tale of Wayfort's tournament, Garrett brought up the developments in Rhovanion: new outposts, and the road that would connect the northern lands directly to Gondor.
"River and sea transport..."
At the mention of this, Ecthelion's interest was piqued.
"I've been planning to strengthen Pelargir's defenses, as well as rebuild Cair Andros."
Cair Andros, an island fortress in the Anduin River, north of the White City, an important bulwark against Mordor's incursions.
Many years ago, when Garrett had accompanied a caravan from Wayfort to Gondor's Osgiliath, he had passed by that very place.
Two sites: one, the royal shipyards; the other, a river fortress.
It was clear that Ecthelion placed great emphasis on such matters. And indeed, this era was one in which corsairs ran rampant.
His foresight was sound.
Garrett voiced his support as well.
"Why don't we go take a look?"
Ecthelion offered the proposal himself, surprising Denethor, who stood nearby.
"Of course."
Garrett agreed readily.
For some reason, Denethor felt an uneasy premonition.
That very day, the three mounted their horses and set off northward, heading straight for that river island.
The next day, they arrived.
The journey drew little notice; people assumed it was simply an ordinary inspection tour of the territory.
Until, as the three looked about, suddenly, they vanished.
