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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 154
🕑 Added 2025-08-05 17:31:18 +0000 UTC"Greetings to you, Garrett, the legend of Wayfort."
When Garrett returned to the spot, a Ranger was already waiting under the tree. He immediately greeted the lord of Wayfort, who had saved his company.
"Thank you for your aid."
"Don't worry about it. I didn't come here specifically for that."
Garrett waved his hand and said, "The fewer orcs, the better. If I run into them, I just take care of them while I'm at it, it's not much trouble."
"Perhaps not for you, but for us, it's quite the ordeal. The Dúnedain will remember this assistance."
Garrett smiled.
"I was once helped by your people. I've always remembered that. May the friendship between us last long."
The Ranger smiled and nodded. The two shook hands.
"I heard from Halbarad that you have wounded. Where are they?"
"Below. He is there too. Please follow me."
As he spoke, the Ranger crouched down and lifted a concealed hatch. A passage leading downward was revealed.
"Quite well hidden. Unless someone dug straight down, I'd never guess there was something here."
The Ranger climbed down first, and Garrett followed closely behind.
"We have many such refuges. In fact, not just us, Gondor's border guards use the same kind of disguised outposts."
While descending, he explained freely, "Finding our refuges isn't actually that difficult. There's usually a tree above each one. Around that tree, there are always three native plants growing. Connect them, and they'll form an isosceles triangle."
"Of course, there'll also be other elements to mislead the eye nearby. If your vision isn't sharp enough, you'll easily miss it."
In just a few exchanges, the two had already descended.
Garrett glanced around. The place was quite cramped and dim.
This refuge was roughly ten meters in both length and width. A few straw beds were set in one corner, and across from them were some shelves with several cloaks hanging.
Two Rangers were currently sitting against the straw beds, gritting their teeth as they tended to their wounds without complaint.
With Halbarad included, there were five Rangers in total here.
They all looked seasoned, including Halbarad.
Their expressions were serious, weathered, like stones that had endured many storms, and they all had a quiet, stoic demeanor.
Although they were silent now, it was clear Halbarad had already explained the situation earlier. When they saw Garrett come down, they all paused what they were doing and gave him a respectful nod.
Then they returned to treating their wounds or simply sat quietly.
It was very quiet.
So quiet that Garrett felt somewhat awkward just standing there.
"You're back. How did it go?"
Halbarad was the first to break the silence, greeting him.
"A few got away, but it's not a big deal. They probably won't risk coming here again for a while."
Somewhere in a cave, the howls of orcs still echoed.
"Seems like it went smoothly. I really underestimated you earlier."
"It's fine. You'll have plenty of opportunities to witness more in the future."
Saying this, Garrett walked over to the two wounded men and pulled out two bottles filled with a pink liquid.
Healing potions.
"Drink this. It'll make your wounds heal quickly."
The two wounded men looked up, surprised.
Halbarad said from the side, "A special remedy. You don't usually get the chance to try it."
Garrett nodded, confirming the claim.
"Whatever you say."
Hearing Halbarad put it that way, the two wounded men didn't hesitate. They took the potions and drank them in one gulp.
It didn't taste as they had imagined, it had a strange, indescribable flavor.
But the effect was astonishing. The moment they drank it, their wounds began to heal miraculously, vanishing completely in seconds, as if they had never been injured at all.
The Rangers regained their strength.
A short while later... Halbarad, Garrett, and the Ranger who had led Garrett down gathered together.
Halbarad introduced them. "This is our captain, Eradan. We used to operate frequently around Weathertop. Now only a few of us are still working over there, gathering intelligence, myself included."
"I heard things haven't been going well for you lately?" Garrett turned to ask the Ranger captain beside him.
"Not ideal, no. Orcs are appearing in larger, more organized groups, and they're much more alert than before," Eradan replied calmly. "Still, this isn't the first time in the past century we've faced something like this. Breaking apart orc units is easy enough."
"This time was just... unexpected. If their numbers had only been ten times ours, we wouldn't have been in such dire straits. We wouldn't have had to retreat."
But twenty or even thirty times their number, plus a pack of wargs... Now that was unreasonable.
"I understand," Garrett said in agreement, and then suggested, "If any of you get injured next time, feel free to rest at Wayfort."
"The stronghold is shrouded in a kind of... well, a kind of magic. Resting there speeds up healing."
"Don't think of my place as some sealed-off sanctuary that mortals aren't allowed to enter. It's just like any ordinary town, come whenever you like."
"We will," Eradan nodded.
"Also, I believe I had Halbarad pass this along to you before: you're free to use the supplies stored there. After all, we share the same enemy."
"Thank you for your generosity."
"Few even know we exist," Eradan said. "But what they don't know is this: since the day we began wandering these wilds, the number of orcs and wargs that have fallen to our blades and arrows has reached into the tens of thousands."
Indeed.
Unlike mercenaries hired with coin, the Rangers bore a blood-deep grudge against Sauron and his servants, the hatred of a fallen kingdom. With or without reward or support, they would fight the orcs to the bitter end.
And even without that hatred, they would still willingly take on the duty of clearing away threats.
They were a people of exceptional discipline.
As one king of Gondor once said, "If the day ever comes when all the Rangers lie buried in the earth, then whether it's the Shire or the nearby settlements of Men, no one will step outside after dark."
The Lone-lands, this region was not just a desolate place, but also the Rangers' true homeland.
Still, thinking about it, knowing there was always a company of warrior-kings quietly watching over this land, that did bring a certain peace of mind.
"You don't need to worry too much," the Ranger captain said.
Given that, after a brief pause, Garrett decided to invoke a shared alliance. He said, "I know you maintain close ties with Elrond and often receive aid from Rivendell."
"Elrond and I have had many good conversations, and the alliance between me and Rivendell is strong, unshakable. I'd like for us to have the same relationship."
"Don't worry about burdening my territory."
"Also, this isn't a one-sided offering, I'd like to ask that, from time to time, you send someone to teach the children of my domain. Teach them how to survive in the wild, how to respond when they encounter danger."
"And in a few years, or perhaps a decade or more, I may ask you to take on a few tasks. If you're willing, we could deepen our cooperation even further."
This speech clearly had an effect.
Elrond's ties with the Dúnedain were ancient and deep. In fact, his twin brother, Elros, was the very first king of Númenor.
At the beginning, both were half-elves. Later, one chose to become an elf and live eternally, the other chose to become a Man and lead Númenor.
From that point forward, though they shared a common origin, they were no longer of the same race, and time would begin to affect them very differently.
Elrond was destined to watch his brother's bloodline fade, generation after generation, enduring endless partings.
Yet he remained steadfast, protecting the royal Dúnedain bloodline through the ages.
Even to this day.
And speaking of that lineage, Aragorn, the current chieftain of the Rangers and the only remaining heir qualified to claim Gondor's throne, is in fact a direct descendant of Elrond's brother.
This was also why he had always treated the Rangers with such care, because, at their roots, they were family.
"If that's the case..."
Eradan and Halbarad exchanged a glance.
It was the first time either of them had heard about Garrett's relationship with Rivendell.
A relatively unknown, emerging power suddenly offering aid to a people the world barely even knew existed, it would normally seem suspicious. Not something to consider unless desperation left no other options.
But if it was an ally of their own kindred... That was different.
Something in them softened.
"In the fight against evil, we stand united."
"I'll bring this up at the next council of our people. Whatever happens, your help will not be forgotten."
And so...
Wayfort, Rivendell, and the Rangers.
These three powers became closely connected, enclosing the vast Lone-lands in a protective alliance.
---
"These people are steadfast and strong, bearing the bearing of kings. Compared to them, the Riders of Rohan seem like mere youths. Their faces are grave, most carry the weathered look of those who've endured many storms, even Aragorn himself. And they're all quiet men." - Gimli (on the Rangers during the War of the Ring, Third Age 3019)
