As Garrett once said, there's plenty of time for people to live freely, at least for now, in the northern parts of Middle-earth far from Mordor's shadow.
The weather was bright and clear that day. Road workers were busy in the Misty Mountains, their tools ringing and clattering as they labored. The winding entrances to the former Goblin-town were being sealed one by one, rebuilt into smooth roadways and solid walls.
A massive, unprecedented mountain tunnel was being excavated, its scale and space so vast that it even surpassed the grand halls of Erebor. Many dwarves passing by would stop to observe, their faces showing unease, wonder, and a mix of complicated emotions filled with nostalgia.
"Good thing it's just a road... just a passage," one dwarf muttered on his way back.
Though perhaps that wasn't entirely accurate.
Clink.
Lanterns hung from the walls and flickered on the vaulted ceiling, casting light and warmth throughout the tunnel. But the space was simply too enormous; relying only on lanterns or torches was clearly not enough for proper illumination.
That was where dwarven expertise proved invaluable, they had ancient constructions even larger than this, yet their interiors remained brilliantly lit.
This was thanks to a technique of mixing luminous stones with building materials, allowing them, when needed, to make an entire hall, from ceiling to floor, glow without having to worry about lighting at all.
Whether with glowing materials or light wells, dwarves always had plenty of solutions for underground challenges.
According to some well-traveled elder dwarves, certain areas in Moria had been so well-lit that crops could be grown there. This meant that thousands of years ago, when the gates of Moria had to be sealed during dark times, the dwarves could still maintain a degree of self-sufficiency through their agricultural systems.
There's always a solution to every problem.
Thanks to the dwarves' superb craftsmanship, Garrett could finally breathe easily.
If they truly hadn't found a solution for tunnel lighting, he was already considering going to the Nether to harvest hundreds of chests of glowstone.
Of course, that was easier said than done, accomplishing it would probably exhaust him completely.
---
In Wayfort, a few clouds drifted across the blue sky.
The sunlight of this season wasn't too harsh, it lacked the golden tones of summer and autumn, and wasn't yet the pale white of winter after heavy snow.
It was simply bright, crystal clear and brilliant.
Boom!
The stronghold gates suddenly opened, and a burst of cheerful noise erupted.
In the mallorn tree, Wormi rolled over lazily, taking her eyes off the glaring orb in the sky. It blinked, then looked toward the commotion at the gates.
One glance, and the little dragon froze completely.
Was it seeing spots from staring at the sun too long?
The thought popped into its small head.
It wasn't until that figure waved off the gathered townsfolk and walked a good distance toward the castle that it suddenly jolted, leaped off the mallorn tree with excitement, spread its wings, and glided down, landing directly into Garrett's arms.
Clang!
Its dragon head struck with a loud metallic thud.
"You really don't feel pain, do you?"
Garrett winced, rubbing the dragon's head twice before shooing it off to play, then patting his own chestplate.
That long-distance dive had nearly knocked his health down a point.
If it weren't for his knockback resistance, he might have been sent flying.
Since their last adventure, Wormi had grown considerably, in sheer size, it was now several times larger than its playmate, the dog.
Nearly the size of a young horse now.
Of course, growing up was a positive development.
But some behaviors inevitably change as one matures.
Take, for example, the act of leaping into someone's arms for affection, when you're small, that can be called cute... Once you're grown, it's essentially a "dragon tackle."
The beacon's light still shone, piercing straight into the sky. Feeling the vibrant energy coursing through him, Garrett opened the castle doors that hadn't been touched in months, stepped onto the woolen carpet, and casually settled into the plain chair before the beacon.
There wasn't the slightest trace of lordly bearing or dignity about him.
He was completely relaxed.
Without bothering to go to bed, and not even being evening, he simply leaned against the not-particularly-comfortable lord's seat, listening to the bustle outside. Slowly, he closed his eyes, his breathing growing steady.
From the outer wall of the castle, Wormi glanced toward the hall. Its movements were much gentler this time.
It quietly settled against the wall, eyes narrowing as it dozed.
---
The next morning, at the first light of dawn, the settlement came alive.
Groups of residents finished breakfast and, as usual, went to their work, performing the tasks they excelled at while chatting idly, their expressions content.
The housewives planned the day's meals, waving their neatly dressed children off to school with their learning materials.
From the newly built training ground came the sound of synchronized marching and drill commands. A few Rangers stood at the edge of the formation discussing something; moments later, they dispersed, moving among the soldiers to offer individual instruction.
Hearing that the lord had returned, Wade came to the castle gates with some documents. With him was Taber.
But just as the two reached the gate, a figure stepped in front of them and stubbornly refused to let them pass.
The two elderly men looked helplessly at the little dragon blocking their way without budging.
"We've come to deliver some documents to the lord, a summary of Wayfort's developments during this period."
Since they hadn't interacted much with Wormi, they weren't certain if it could understand them. Still, explanation seemed necessary regardless.
But clearly, at its current age, it couldn't grasp much beyond matters concerning food.
It instinctively wanted to give a bark to get their attention, but then remembered that its entire vocabulary of such sounds was just... dog barks.
Garrett had told it to do that less in the future, so it'd stopped.
Wormi shook its head.
Wade and Taber exchanged glances, then nodded to it.
Wormi kept shaking its head.
The two men nodded again, still trying to communicate their purpose.
In this peculiar standoff, the two men and the dragon stood frozen in place.
"Are you playing some sort of nodding game?"
Click.
The doors opened, and Garrett stepped out, stretching. The first thing he saw was two old men and Wormi locked in an intense staring contest.
What... had some new local custom developed here while he'd been away?
"No, my lord, we're here to deliver these documents."
Wade's weathered face reddened as he quickly handed over the papers.
During this time, he had even learned to write at the school, so he no longer had to strain his memory to keep track of everything.
Seeing Garrett was awake, Wormi's head drooped for a moment, but the next second its spirits bounced back and it dashed straight toward the dining hall.
Garrett glanced over but didn't stop the dragon.
It looked as though it hadn't eaten in hours, best not to let it go hungry.
"Very well, I'll review these later."
The documents went into his inventory.
Even after nearly a year of not directly overseeing things, Wayfort still had remarkably few matters requiring his attention, exceptionally low-maintenance.
Especially by comparison, what Wade had just handed over couldn't even be considered "work" next to the mountain of paperwork from Dale.