Chapter 384: Celebrating Victory
"You young rascals!"
From behind Gandalf, Gimli shouted, "A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you sitting here stuffing your faces and smoking!"
"We are enjoying the spoils of victory. This is only fair compensation," Pippin said, taking another puff from his pipe. "Look at this. Barley ale from Roadside Keep, and salted pork from the Shire."
"Salted pork…"
Gimli repeated the words under his breath. His eyes drifted to the juicy chops in their hands, and he swallowed hard.
He was hungry.
"Hobbits," Gandalf muttered helplessly.
They were always like this, devoted to immediate comfort, leaving others unsure what to say.
"Welcome, young Levi, and Lord Gandalf."
Treebeard arrived then, still busy tidying the battlefield.
Levi murmured, "It has been a long time since anyone called me young."
Gandalf leaned closer and whispered back, "Same."
"You really are old," Levi replied, showing no mercy.
"Oh, old, fine," Gandalf said. "But look, there is someone over there just as old as I am."
He pointed with his staff.
At the main doors of Orthanc stood a bedraggled figure. It could only be Saruman.
"Long time no see, Saruman," Levi called, waving from afar. "You look a lot more worn down."
"Yes. Worn down," Saruman answered coldly. "No one comes through what I did and emerges unscathed. But you, you look very lively."
"More lively than you."
As he spoke, Levi removed the Star Ring from his hand and tossed it to Saruman.
The power receded like a tide, and the loss left Levi strangely hollow, as though he had thrown away something precious.
Saruman snatched it out of the air with quick reflexes. When he saw what it was, shock spread across his face.
"You do surprise me," Saruman said. "I did not expect anyone to taste the beauty of a Ring of Power, and then choose to give it up willingly."
"Not everyone is like you, Saruman," Levi said as he dismounted and walked closer. "Long ago I said something, and I still believe it."
"What?"
"There are many things in this world more important than power."
Saruman put on the Star Ring in silence. For a moment, he did not answer.
The ring's strength eased his exhaustion and weakness, lending him a little color and more confidence.
"But…"
Levi changed his tone. "Can you keep making rings like this? I can provide more Beacons, or Nether Stars."
"You speak as though a Ring of Power is a ham in a hobbit pantry, something that can be made in batches," Saruman said, shaking his head.
"You are underestimating what it takes. The Star Ring is the result of decades of study. Making even this one took enormous effort. Even if I could forge a second, there would be no time. By the day another ring set with a Nether Star was born, darkness would already have covered the earth."
"All right, then. Forget it," Levi said, shaking his head.
"But Levi, there is one more thing about rings I must warn you of," Saruman said.
"What is it?"
Saruman stepped closer and lowered his voice. "In the time I faced the Nazgûl directly, I glimpsed certain things through them, and I have thought through a great deal."
"About the One Ring…"
"You must understand, the One Ring is not some finished object forged from a set plan. It is an innovation, something new that never existed in this world before. Even now, no one can claim to fully understand it."
"And it carries Sauron's will. It cannot be measured by power alone. It has many other workings."
"Do not underestimate it."
"Oh?"
Levi studied Saruman's serious expression and felt genuine surprise.
Rare indeed. For Saruman to offer something useful, he truly had changed at least a little.
"I understand," Levi said.
When Levi finished, Gandalf stepped forward. Standing on the steps, he declared, "Isengard has been reclaimed. No evil remains here."
"This battle is a victory for the Free Peoples."
"Yeah!!"
Cheers rose from below. Gimli and the two hobbits acted as an enthusiastic chorus, propping up Gandalf's proclamation.
The rest, however, kept solemn faces.
They were either too tight-lipped or too wooden-headed. Some quite literally.
Gandalf shrugged. It did not bother him.
Fine, then.
But Théoden clearly did not intend to let the matter end there.
He rode forward and said, "Saruman, you must bear part of the responsibility for what has happened."
From above, Saruman asked coolly, "And what would you do?"
Théoden fixed him with a hard stare. "This has proven you untrustworthy. From this day, you are stripped of your position as Rohan's counselor. You will enjoy no special privileges."
"Hmph. Who cares?" Saruman snapped, forcing bravado. "I do not want it."
Gandalf looked at his old friend and shook his head.
"This began with you, Saruman," Gandalf said. "You broke what should never be broken. You stepped onto a crooked road. But even now, there is still a chance to make amends."
"Stay here. Guard Isengard. Help Treebeard restore the green land. Perhaps the judgment that awaits you will be lighter."
Gandalf offered the counsel plainly.
Saruman fell silent. He did not answer, but his posture bent further, as though the weight of the moment had finally found his shoulders.
When the others left, he still stood there without a word.
Only the Ents remained with him.
After a great victory, there had to be a celebration.
The defenders of the Hornburg were still many, and reinforcements from the Water City had arrived in time. Rohan's losses were not as terrible as feared.
Tonight was destined to be a lively night.
The people of Rohan celebrated their victory and mourned those who had spilled their blood to defend this land.
The great host from the Water City joined the feast as well.
But no hall in Rohan could possibly hold so many. After Théoden and Levi gave brief speeches, everyone went outside and began building their own feast grounds.
There were so many that even the fortress could not hold them. Great crowds gathered beyond the walls, until lights and revelry stretched without break inside and out, forming a strange, magnificent sight.
Rohan's chroniclers recorded that scene, and it was passed down as a classic tale.
That day, everyone raised their cups together in salute, and the sound rolled across the plains.
"It is fortunate that Rohan has always kept frequent trade with the Free City-States," Théoden said in the hall, lifting his cup toward Levi. "We have enough supplies to let more than ten thousand people celebrate freely."
Levi did not refuse the mood. He tapped his cup lightly against Théoden's and drained his barley ale in one long swallow.