"You really should pay attention to your appearance, Gandalf."
"Look at yourself, all dusty and travel-worn, just like some roadside vagrant."
In the imposing great hall of Isengard, within the towering stone fortress of Orthanc, Saruman regarded Gandalf at the entrance with an expression of complete indifference. Without even offering a basic greeting, he immediately launched into criticism of the Gray Wizard's disheveled appearance.
Truly condescending behavior, even by his standards.
Gandalf clutched his pipe and couldn't help but sigh inwardly with weary resignation. Although the White Wizard's attitude was far from welcoming, since he was the one seeking assistance, Gandalf still offered a respectful bow before speaking.
"Saruman, I've come seeking your aid. I hope I might be permitted to borrow some books from your extensive library."
After he spoke, silence stretched between them like a taut bowstring.
The vast hall fell unnaturally quiet for several long moments. Saruman simply stood there on his elevated platform, studying the pipe smoke that hadn't completely dispersed above Gandalf's weathered head, as if contemplating some hidden meaning. He remained silent for an uncomfortably long time.
Only when Gandalf couldn't help but prepare to speak again did Saruman raise one pale hand to interrupt the movement, nodding with obvious reluctance.
"Of course, my old friend, you may certainly browse my collection. You can examine whatever you wish for as long as necessary."
His tone grew sharp with obvious distaste: "But you'd better extinguish that pipe immediately. I won't have my precious books reeking of common tobacco smoke."
"How foolish this habit is. I don't know where this particular tobacco originates, but I sincerely hope its smoke doesn't dull your already questionable judgment."
"Thank you for your gracious permission," Gandalf replied, forcing a diplomatic smile despite the insults.
"It's from the Shire, actually. If you develop any interest, I could bring you some samples next time I visit..."
"Who would desire such crude peasant indulgences," Saruman interrupted with visible disgust.
"Just mind your own business, Gandalf, and try not to damage anything valuable."
Having delivered this parting barb, Saruman swept his pristine white robes dramatically, turned with theatrical precision, and departed without another backward glance.
Gandalf released a long breath of relief, quickly extinguished his beloved pipe, and walked toward the library with renewed purpose. He had work to do, regardless of his host's insufferable attitude.
Not long after Gandalf shut himself away among the ancient tomes, a human servant received an urgent summons to the top of the tower. From this day forward, the Shire would gain a mysterious figure who began purchasing tobacco in unusually large quantities, though none would connect this development to the White Wizard's sudden interest.
"This is absolutely delightful," Bilbo declared in the banquet hall of Roadside Fort, raising his cup with obvious satisfaction.
"This apple cider surpasses any I've ever tasted. Sweet, refreshing, with the most delicate fruity aroma imaginable. After finishing this cup, I feel like I could devour an entire roasted steak plus a whole large cake without difficulty."
On the opposite side of the table, Levi observed Bilbo's expanding belly with growing concern, momentarily uncertain what response would be appropriate.
Are you genuinely confident you can accommodate all that food? He had no idea where everything the hobbit consumed actually went. The physics seemed impossible.
"It's quite unfortunate that Thorin and the others couldn't attend, and Gandalf remains perpetually absent when we need him most," Bilbo sighed with obvious melancholy.
"It seems I'm the only member from the Company who could participate in this wonderful festival."
"Although you're the sole Company representative present, there were other friends from outside our group who visited during the celebration," Levi pointed out encouragingly.
"Really? Who managed to make the journey?"
"Legolas, the elven prince."
Bilbo's face showed complete confusion for a moment.
"The prince of the Woodland Realm," Levi clarified.
"Oh, now I remember!" Bilbo's expression brightened with recognition.
"I've encountered him before, more than once actually. You don't know, Levi, but when we were trapped in Mirkwood, I nearly got captured by him during my invisible wanderings."
"That sounds quite thrilling indeed."
Levi smiled with genuine amusement at the mental image.
"But you'll never need to worry about being apprehended when entering Mirkwood again. They already consider you a trusted friend and honored guest."
"That's wonderful news, truly wonderful..." Bilbo nodded with obvious relief, then suddenly added with thoughtful consideration:
"Actually, I found the elves there quite pleasant company as well. Although they're not as serenely quiet as those in Rivendell, they possess their own distinctive charm and warmth."
"Yes, they certainly do have their own unique appeal."
Amid the ongoing festivities, the celebration continued day after joyous day. It wasn't until the afternoon of the seventh day of March that residents finally began clearing tables and preparing for tomorrow's return to routine life.
After such wonderful indulgence, the practical business of daily existence still demanded attention.
Bilbo also returned to the Shire after heartfelt farewells, carrying with him memories that would last for years.
The territory gradually returned to its usual productive appearance.
"Sir, I've mastered the technique," Vide announced on the first day of the new work week, approaching Levi with obvious pride while displaying what he held in his weathered hands.
It was a finely crafted leather garment, showing clear evidence of skilled workmanship.
"I wasn't aware you possessed this particular skill."
"Yes, sir. Actually, I used to work as a hunter who roamed the deep forests and later learned various leatherworking methods through necessity and practice. Many villagers' boots and hunters' leather clothing were crafted by these same hands."
Speaking of this accomplishment, Old Vide felt considerable justified pride. It was precisely because he had developed both martial skills and valuable craftsmanship that he had been able to gain sufficient reputation in his previous life to become village chief.
"Excellent work. You're now officially qualified as a Practitioner. You can create many more useful things for our residents in the future."
"I'm more than willing and eager to serve in this capacity."
March proved to be an exceptionally busy month for the growing community.
Besides Vide's important advancement, another major achievement occurred within the territory. The mine tunnel that had been painstakingly dug from Roadside Fort toward the iron ore vein was finally completed after months of dedicated labor.
Levi immediately crafted a large number of mechanical gears, installing one at regular intervals along the rails. After careful testing, he found the minecart speed was quite impressive. The journey from Roadside Fort to the ore deposits now took less than an hour, compared to the full day's dangerous trek it had required previously.
As soon as the mine tunnel officially opened, many eager residents picked up pickaxes and queued to take minecarts to the previously inaccessible ore vein.
From Levi's perspective, the process of riding minecarts was rather tedious, since passengers could only sit passively waiting to reach their destination, with nothing interesting to observe except the unchanging, monotonous tunnel walls.
However, for the residents, this represented an absolutely novel and exciting experience. Most people present had never ridden in any type of vehicle, and even the few who had possessed limited experience with bumpy, uncomfortable horse-drawn carts.
Suddenly having access to iron minecarts that didn't shake at all, moved by themselves with mechanical precision, and provided both smooth comfort and impressive speed was genuinely fascinating.
Even without work obligations, just for the pure experience, many people eagerly volunteered to make the journey.
Not to mention that their lord had generously declared that riding minecarts to and from work counted as paid labor time. A whole crowd rushed forward enthusiastically, and even a large chest full of available minecarts wasn't sufficient to meet demand.
"Hey! Leave some people available for other essential work!" Old Vide shouted exactly what Levi had been thinking.
"We understand!" the residents answered loudly, still employing their established method of fair rotation. Some people would travel to the mines first, while others performed different tasks and waited their turn.
Perhaps in the future, residents would regard riding carts to mining locations as a perfectly ordinary routine. But at least for now, the novelty remained fresh and exciting.
From this day forward, mineral stockpiles continued increasing at an impressive rate, while Levi took accumulated ice blocks to the Nether to gradually complete the still-unfinished ice highway that would revolutionize travel between his territories.
Time flowed steadily onward.
When Levi finally reached the terminus of his ambitious Nether highway project, the weather in the overworld had warmed considerably, transitioning naturally from spring's gentle awakening toward summer's full embrace.
The portal twisted with familiar purple energy, and a figure materialized in a certain square building within Dale. It had been quite a while since he'd last visited this territory.
Levi sighed with anticipation as he approached the wooden door before him.
Creak.
As the wooden door swung open, various bustling sounds and a warm breeze flowed into the room together. The multiple sensory stimuli inevitably made his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness.
Levi stepped forward confidently, emerging from the portal chamber into the vibrant world beyond.
Brilliant weather, people moving with purpose in all directions, a thriving marketplace filled with merchants and customers, children running joyfully through the streets, and behind them, extensive areas of brand-new buildings that spoke of prosperity and growth. This was exactly what a flourishing community should look like.
"Lord!" a sharp-eyed resident called out, spotting Levi immediately.
This enthusiastic recognition drew the attention of many nearby people. Residents turned their gazes toward him with obvious pleasure, pressing hands to their chests in respectful greeting, then continued with their daily business with renewed energy.
Levi nodded warmly in response to each acknowledgment, feeling deep satisfaction at what his people had accomplished.