Chapter 336: Pride
At the foot of the mountain, Gandalf stared at the Snow-troll's corpse and fell silent for a time.
"No. I do not know it. I have never seen it's like before—at least not in the last few thousand years."
"But I have seen a line or two in old books. They live on the unmapped snowfields of the far North and almost never cross the mountains. Folk in Middle-earth have little chance of ever meeting them."
"That is strange indeed." Levi looked from the Snow-troll to Gandalf.
"Of late, the watchmen and front-line rangers have been telling me they have seen strange creatures on the high peaks. One of them is this kind of Troll. Another is something like a Warg."
"According to one of the rangers, they are 'all white or pitch-black from nose to tail, long and thin as ghosts, with savage faces'."
"Like Wargs, but more fearsome, and quicker."
At that, Gandalf's brows drew into a deep frown.
"Truly? He saw them with his own eyes?"
Levi nodded. "I did not manage to find any of these things worse than Wargs this time out, but I trust my people."
"From your face, it seems you know something."
"Of course. Not only do I know of them, I know them well."
"Werewolves."
From Gandalf's mouth came a word scarcely heard in this Age.
The wind howled, lifting flakes of snow that glittered like crystal.
Days later, in Roadside Keep, Gandalf stood at the window, lighting his pipe.
"Like Wargs, many werewolves are said to trace back to the evil wolves Morgoth bred in the Elder Days."
"Those 'evil wolves' were already prowling in the Elder Days, perhaps even before the First Age, and later they became allies—or rather servants—of Morgoth. While he still served Morgoth, Sauron himself once took the shape of a great wolf."
"From that stock, Morgoth is said to have bred many offshoots. Among them were the Wargs, broad in the shoulders and strong enough to bear riders, and the dreadful werewolves."
"Compared to Wargs, Werewolves are far more dangerous. Evil spirits were poured into them, making them more cunning—and more vicious."
Levi raised an eyebrow. "So? What exactly has made your face so grim? Are they enough to bring all the Free Peoples crashing down at once?"
"No. They are not. For all that they are nimbler and more clever than Wargs, even ten thousand of them could not cross the Long Wall in the North, in my judgement."
"I am only… puzzled. The Werewolves have not been seen for thousands of years. I thought they had died out."
"That is the Northern Waste for you. A marvellous place," Levi said, half-teasing, not seeming greatly troubled.
"This is no good omen, Levi," Gandalf answered, turning from the window.
"In the Troll you slew, I can feel an ancient evil. It is familiar to me."
"It does not feel like a Snow-troll that lives on the open ice. It feels like a creature from some deep ice-cavern that has suddenly been brought out."
"You may not sense that cold. I do. Clearly."
"Is it really that bad?"
Now Levi looked doubtful.
"Very well. Have it your way. I will order the front-line posts to keep a sharper watch there and strengthen the border defences while we are at it."
"That would be best," Gandalf said, satisfied.
After a short pause, he went on,
"If things are as I fear, the North may find the weight on it suddenly and strangely heavy."
"If anything does happen, you must tell me. If there is any place where I can help, do not hesitate to call."
"I will face it with you."
"All right, all right. I heard you," Levi said at once.
"…I shall take it that you were listening seriously," Gandalf sighed.
Before long, he left Roadside Keep again and went straight to the Shire.
He had gone there often in the last few years, partly to keep the promise he had made to Bilbo—to look in on Frodo when he could—and partly to watch Frodo himself, to see whether there was any change.
Thankfully, Frodo did indeed have the true Baggins spirit, or at least was very like Bilbo.
Like Bilbo, once he had taken the Ring, Frodo paid it little heed.
He did not even open the envelope. He simply tossed the letter with the Ring inside into a corner of a cupboard and did not look at it again for years.
As the cupboard filled with odds and ends, the Ring was pushed deeper and deeper, until it lay at the very bottom, a forgotten thing.
Plainly, Frodo cared far more for the money and trinkets his uncle had left him—and more still for roaming the hills with his friends Merry and Pippin, or wandering alone at times to enjoy the quiet.
Seeing him safe and peaceful, Gandalf's heart eased.
"Good. That is good."
"To live out his days in quiet and peace—that is best."
For a Hobbit born to love such a life, that was enough.
For most folk, a life like that would be called blessed.
In 3005, in Dale.
Levi sat in a room, looking at Bain, and many tangled feelings flickered in his eyes.
"I heard from Brand that you have not been well of late. Are you ill?" he asked.
"Do not worry, Uncle. As you see, I am sound," Bain said, thumping his chest lightly.
"At worst… at worst, I have been sleeping poorly. A little less than I should. If I sit too long, I feel a bit dizzy when I stand."
"That is common enough. Many people are like that. Even strong young men," Levi said.
"Rest more."
He could not think what else to say and could only offer that simple advice.
But… sleeplessness?
"Is something weighing on you?" he asked.
"Not exactly." Bain shook his head.
"Perhaps it is only that, once one grows old, one enjoys looking back."
"I think about my father. When I was a boy. We were poor, and often had to work all we could just to eat our fill."
"It was not that life was truly so hard, nor that my father was lazy. The mayor of the town had it in for us. He made trouble whenever he could and cut off most of the honest ways we could earn our keep."
"He feared your family," Levi said, neatly summing the man up.
Bain chuckled and went on,
"Yes. Just as you say. As a child, I feared them. Every time my father saw them, he would take another road, and I thought he feared them too."
"But when I grew up, I learned who it was that had truly been afraid."
"In this world, it happens often. Those who seem strong are full of fear for those who seem weak, and always anxious."
Talking of the old days, both of them smiled without quite meaning to.
So it went. The world was full of helpless things, and often very ridiculous.
As their talk wound down, Levi said, "Set aside the heavy work for a while. Live well. Take care of yourself."
"Up to now, you have done splendidly. The prosperity here is plain to see. Your father would be proud of you."
"And so am I."