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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 236
🕑 Added 2025-08-29 00:46:08 +0000 UTCClack.
After placing the letter into the stronghold's special sorting chest, Garrett rose to his feet and exchanged brief pleasantries with the Gondorian messenger outside.
"I'll be waiting for you in Gondor."
"...I beg your pardon?"
The messenger looked somewhat confused.
What could he mean, waiting for me in Gondor?
Perhaps he would only understand those words after returning to Gondor. But from Wayfort to Gondor's capital, Minas Tirith, even on a swift horse, it would take at least ten days to a half a month to ride back.
Shaking his head, he didn't dwell much on the strange man's words.
Folk often said that probing too deeply into certain mysteries only troubled one's peace of mind.
He was prudent, he didn't pursue the matter further. Instead, after completing his duty of delivering the letter, he immediately began the second task given to him by Thengel: "Take a good look at Wayfort for me, this so-called great stronghold said to be built by Garrett's own hands. I look forward to your account."
The words might have been somewhat indirect, but in truth it was simply asking him to observe the sights, explore a bit, and compose some kind of report.
So that when he returned, he could let those bound by endless duties enjoy the tale secondhand.
"Quite remarkable. Not inferior to Minas Tirith, perhaps only those long-lost cities of legend could compare."
The messenger looked at the view within the stronghold, then at the lakeside tower folk called the "Tower of Knowledge," and offered his assessment.
---
Rumble...
On the broad avenues, carts and carriages came and went in constant procession, most heading toward the newly established marketplace near the entrance to the Sky Road.
This land was growing ever more prosperous. As both terminus and beginning of the Sky Road, countless travelers passed through each day.
Some came merely to glimpse this legendary place, to gaze up at the miraculous highway, and to walk upon it for a stretch.
Bards sat on stones beside the roadway composing new tales. Merchants brought their wares and departed with goods from Wayfort. Pilgrims craned their necks in wonder at the marvels around them.
And the fame of Wayfort spread across Middle-earth through the footsteps of these folk.
They began calling it "the heart of the northern realm, the capital of the Free Cities, the place where legends are born."
Just as the Gondorian messenger had finished tending his horse and started peering curiously about the stronghold, Garrett had already entered the Nether portal and stepped onto the high-speed highway.
That very day, he reached Gondor's capital, the White City.
"I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."
When Garrett sought out Thengel, the latter was nothing short of amazed.
"So the tales are true, that you vanish without trace and appear moments later in some distant land."
"No need to be surprised. I just run a little faster than most."
Garrett adjusted his armor in a symbolic gesture and entered Thengel's dwelling.
Thengel peered out the doorway, glancing left and right, but saw no sign of the messenger he had dispatched.
"My messenger hasn't returned yet?"
"He should still be at Wayfort. If you have anything to say, I can pass it along for you."
"No, nothing urgent. I simply thought you'd journey together."
Thengel shook his head and closed the door.
"If you're waiting for your messenger to come back… you'll have to wait quite a while."
Once inside, Garrett's eyes roamed the chamber.
"You said in your letter that you had a son. Where is he?"
"He'll return presently. Morwen took him into the back garden to enjoy the sunlight."
Just as he spoke, there came a sound.
Creak.
The front door opened. Moving carefully, Morwen entered, cradling in her arms a lively small bundle.
"My son."
A smile spread across Thengel's face. He immediately approached, gently teasing the baby in his wife's arms with a single careful finger.
It was clear, this was his firstborn son, the youngest child of their household, and he treasured him above all.
His hesitant, careful movements seemed as though he feared his hands might harm the child's skin.
A man who had once stood unmoved before the fierce armies of Southrons now appeared utterly overwhelmed.
Morwen noticed this as well.
She laughed softly and said, "He's not made of glass. He'll grow into a strong warrior one day, you don't need to be that careful."
"You're right."
"Come then, let my son meet Garrett and offer greeting."
Thengel took the child, still with utmost gentleness.
Garrett leaned closer, immediately capturing the infant's attention.
Babies were always fascinated by new things, and this one was particularly alert and restless.
His wide eyes sparkled with curiosity, reflecting the shadowy figure before him.
Garrett naturally extended his arms. After brief hesitation, Thengel passed Théoden over.
"Support his back with your left hand, yes, just so. Then cradle him with your right arm, let his head rest in your elbow... yes, exactly like that, it'll keep him secure."
Thengel, tense with concern, gave careful instruction, while Garrett broke into a cold sweat, following along step by step.
At last, he successfully took the baby into his arms.
"There—"
When the handoff was complete, both men breathed sighs of relief.
Finally managed it.
Oblivious to the delicate atmosphere, Théoden found it all quite entertaining. The little fellow grasped Garrett's finger, his tiny feet kicking freely.
Then, when Garrett wasn't watching closely, the baby suddenly turned his head and began suckling on the man's finger.
"He's likely hungry," Thengel said helplessly.
After all, who could predict an infant's whims?
Just as he suspected, the child did indeed seem hungry. Once finished with the finger, he turned his head and leaned toward Garrett's chest, only to encounter dark netherite plate, faint with the tang of blood and rust.
The baby paused, thoroughly puzzled.
All three burst into laughter.
A moment later, Morwen carried Théoden into another room, leaving only Garrett and Thengel in the hall.
"I cannot wait to see what kind of man he'll become when grown."
Thengel gazed toward where his wife had gone, murmuring, "When he stands tall enough to look me in the eye... my life's work will feel complete."
Garrett smiled quietly. "He will. He'll grow strong and healthy, and live a good life."
"My thanks," Thengel replied, taking it simply as a blessing.
"It's getting late," he continued. "Your timing is perfect, I gathered some fresh mushrooms just yesterday. The same variety we ate in Rohan during our travels."
"This time I've perfected the recipe and cooking method. It should turn out properly."
"This time?" Garrett asked, slightly puzzled by the emphasis.
"Ah, yes. Recently I prepared the dish for a grey-robed wizard, you should know him, Gandalf."
"Unfortunately, I made an error and didn't cook it thoroughly. I suspect some rather unpleasant elements remained. After he sampled it, he... well, let's say he slept very deeply for an entire day before waking."
"Fortunately, he was the only one who had it."
Thengel confessed with a sheepish tone.
Had Gandalf been present now, he would surely have knocked him on the head with that pipe of his.
