Malphegor
patreon
LOTR: TMCP Ch. 121
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 01:18:38 +0000 UTC"I understand, my lord."
A resident braced himself and said, "I've long since pledged everything I have to Wayfort. I'm willing to stake my life to verify whether this dragon is safe."
"May I touch it?"
"You may. Go ahead."
Garrett extended the hand holding the dragon forward.
The resident took a deep breath, slowly reached out a hand, gently patted the little creature on the head, and quickly pulled back.
The little one didn't even have time to squint and enjoy the sensation before the hand disappeared, leaving it somewhat puzzled.
"Whew..."
The resident let out a heavy breath and turned around to make an announcement. "Please trust our lord's words. This dragon is safe!"
The crowd was visibly surprised. Many turned curious eyes toward the small fire dragon in Garrett's hands. Quite a few even looked eager to try touching it themselves.
Garrett waved his hand and said, "All right, disperse now. This little one was only just born. Don't crowd around like this, it'll get scared."
"Oh."
The residents responded in unison and gradually dispersed, no longer blocking the area.
Still, many pairs of eyes couldn't help but glance in that direction from time to time.
This event was bound to stir great excitement, especially since the residents had plenty of free time. Any bit of news would spread like wildfire.
A dragon, a dragon not inherently evil, was simply unheard of, beyond the imagination of anyone in this world.
The people grew restless. Many with spare time wandered over, all wanting a glimpse of the dragon raised by their lord.
But they were destined to be disappointed.
While residents tried to sneak glances past the hatching area, pretending to pass by, Garrett had already taken out the materials to craft a "Dragon Amulet" and stored the drowsy little fire dragon inside.
This item came from the Dragon Mounts mod and provided a pocket dimension for the dragon so it could always remain at its master's side.
But it came with one drawback: when the dragon was inside the amulet, it would enter a stasis state. That meant its body would stop growing or changing entirely.
As such, the amulet was only suitable for special circumstances. If one wanted a dragon to mature normally, it needed to be released and allowed to move freely.
Given the current situation, however, he wasn't comfortable letting the little one roam unsupervised. At least during its infancy, it was best to keep it close.
That ensured its safety.
After confirming that the amulet functioned properly, he released the baby dragon back inside the keep, feeding it while thinking.
A dragon needed a name.
"What should I call you?"
Naming was genuinely challenging for him. It felt like hitting a stone wall.
But no matter, he could break through even the hardest stone with a pickaxe. A small problem like this was nothing.
He gently patted the baby fire dragon's tiny head. Looking at its skin, still unscaled, glowing pinkish red, he suddenly snapped his fingers.
"We'll call you 'Wormi' for now."
It would serve as a temporary nickname.
He could give it a proper name later when he thought of something better.
Having resolved the naming dilemma, he was in an excellent mood. He went to the kitchen and took out a piece of jerky for Wormi to gnaw on like a chew toy.
At the moment, Wormi had no idea what its new name meant. All it knew was that the jerky smelled wonderful, much better than cooked fish or cabbage, but it was rather tough to bite.
Garrett remained at Wayfort for another two days. After confirming that Wormi was thriving, he stored it in the amulet again, stepped through the Nether portal, and took the ice boat route toward Dale.
Along the way, he also discovered that Wormi couldn't be released in the Nether. From the moment he entered, the amulet stopped responding, as though it had been severed.
Not long after, the Nether portal in Dale shimmered, and he stepped out onto the land once more.
The scene was as lively as ever. The only difference from his last visit was that many workers now roamed around with tools, heading in groups to some location, looking so relaxed it was as if they were going on an outing.
He asked someone and learned they were heading to participate in the road construction project.
"That road is so well-built and beautiful, my lord."
In front of a small house in the city, Garrett sat on the steps chatting with an elderly man.
"If I weren't so old," the man said, "I'd want to help build that road too."
"My lord, many of us are even more eager than you to see that road completed. It will make life here even better, though even now, we're living a life we never imagined before."
Garrett nodded, broke a soft biscuit in half, and handed a piece to the old man, who accepted it naturally and began to taste it.
It felt just like two regular neighbors chatting, the atmosphere warm and peaceful.
Naturally, he didn't put on airs.
As for the old man, at his age, he'd experienced everything life had to offer and had nothing left to fear.
"It's delicious, my lord. Even my teeth can taste the flavor. This biscuit must be expensive."
"I don't know if it's expensive, but it's definitely tasty."
Garrett pointed to a bakery around the corner and said, "The owner gave it to me. That baker wanted to pack up everything fresh from the oven for me, but I only took two biscuits."
To be honest, Dale was like a giant feast for him right now. He didn't even need to spend money, just showing his face was enough for shopkeepers and vendors to eagerly offer him their goods, desperate for him to eat enough to become a fat man.
But in fairness, the residents here truly were skilled at baking. Their pastry-making abilities had been refined to an art form.
"Were you always this good at making sweets? I hardly saw anything like this in Lake-town."
"That's because life was so difficult back then, my lord."
The old man said, "When we lived in Lake-town, hardly anyone could scrape together enough food. Milk and honey were luxuries, rare and precious. It's been many years since I've tasted anything this sweet."
Garrett immediately said, "Then you can eat more from now on. Everyone has plenty of food now, and there'll always be enough. Eat as much as you like."
Though he hadn't spent any money here himself, from the prices he overheard at various stalls, the pastries and food in this place were not expensive, at least compared to other regions, they were quite affordable.
After all, food was something no one here lacked. Most of the bakers still running shops did it out of passion.
During this time, they were fiercely competing on craftsmanship, developing new confections based on an abundant grain supply.
Hearing Garrett's words, the old man smiled and gently shook his head.
"As you can see, my lord, my teeth aren't what they used to be. In the past, we ate whatever we had because there was no choice. But now, I actually prefer lighter foods."
"That's a shame. I think the pastries here are the best in all of Middle-earth, even better than the ones the elves make."
"They'll be delighted to hear you say that."
As the old man spoke, a baker passed by carrying a basket of bread.
"Hey, wait a second!" Garrett called out to him.
"My lord," the baker stopped immediately and gave a slight bow in greeting.
"How much for the bread? I'd like to try one."
The baker instantly perked up.
"My lord, you can have them all!"
As he handed over the basket, he was already thinking up the slogan for his shop's next opening: Bread even the lord loves to eat!
"No, no, just one is enough. I'm only curious about the taste..."
"My lord, how can one be enough? Please, take them all! These are my finest creations yet, absolutely delicious!"
"All right... here, take this..."
Helplessly accepting the basket thrust into his hands, Garrett opened his inventory and pulled out a small pouch of silver coins. But before he could even close his inventory, the baker had already vanished without a trace.
He looked more like someone fleeing after robbing Garrett than someone who had just given a gift.
Shaking his head in resignation, Garrett didn't bother chasing after him. Instead, he looked into the basket of bread.
He was quite familiar with this, it was a type of specialty from Lake-town in the past: cram.
But unlike the bland, travel-version cram he once bought from dwarvish traders, this basket looked far more appetizing. Stuffed with honey and cream, just the sight of it made one's mouth water.
He handed one to the old man beside him, who hesitated for a moment but ultimately accepted it.
Noticing the faintly amused look in Garrett's eyes, the old man said, "Well, a little indulgence now and then isn't so bad. I mean, I'm already this age, if I don't eat now, when will I get another chance?"
He took a bite, and the cream oozed out of the bread. After tasting it, he nodded repeatedly and couldn't help but take another bite.
"This is excellent bread, my lord."
Seeing how happily the old man was eating, Garrett took a bite of his own and started packing the rest into his inventory.
Just as the two sat side by side enjoying their snacks, another elderly figure approached and plopped down beside them with a sigh, straightening his robes.
He casually leaned his staff against the wall like it was a walking stick.
"Good morning,"
Gandalf greeted Garrett, then the old man beside him, making sure not to leave anyone out.
The old man nodded in response.
But Garrett wasn't going to let it pass with just that.
"Good morning?" Garrett said as he chewed on his bread. "Do you mean to wish that I have a good morning, or are you saying the morning has been good regardless of how I'm doing?"
Gandalf blinked a couple times, staring at Garrett in disbelief.
But Garrett wasn't done yet.
"Or do you mean you're feeling particularly good this morning? Or maybe just that a morning like this is good enough on its own?"
How bold of you to use my own technique against me?
That was Gandalf's first thought.
He shook his head and replied, "Let's just say... all of the above."
"I see what you're holding looks rather good. I haven't had breakfast yet, you know."
Well, that was clearly a hint.
Garrett tore the remaining piece of biscuit in his other hand in half and gave a piece to Gandalf, who ate it, then tucked both hands into his sleeves like a proper "beggar" and stared at the bread in Garrett's hand.
His expression practically shouted: Are you seriously giving a wizard such a meager portion?
With no other option, Garrett pulled out another piece of bread and handed it to him. Only then did Gandalf begin eating with satisfaction.
"Quite good. The pastries here just keep improving."
"That's because there's more than enough grain to use freely."
"Must be nice. If only every place could live as comfortably as this."
"That day isn't far off."
After finishing the bread and chatting briefly, Gandalf got to the point.
"I visited Thorin. Their reconstruction is proceeding well, but they've still encountered some challenges. This very morning, he asked me to invite you to Erebor for a meeting if I saw you, or he can come here, if that's more convenient."
"All right. I've got plenty of time anyway, so I'll make the trip."
Garrett stood up and said goodbye to the old man beside him, ready to leave.
Gandalf stood and followed.
Just before the two turned the corner, the old man leaned on his cane and got to his feet. He looked at Garrett's armored figure disappearing around the bend, and gave a respectful bow in farewell.
