Hearing Tom's words, Robert felt deeply moved.
He knew of the Barrow-downs well. They had once been the sacred land of the Dúnedain in the north and served as the capital of Cardolan after the Kingdom of Arnor split into three realms. However, following the invasion of the Witch-king of Angmar—leader of the Nine Ringwraiths under the Dark Lord Sauron—and the outbreak of the devastating Great Plague, the Kingdom of Cardolan collapsed. Most of its people perished, and the Barrow-downs, now a land without masters, fell entirely under the Witch-king's control.
Polluted by the Witch-king's dark power, the Dúnedain buried in the ancient tombs were transformed into terrifying Barrow-wights. From then on, the Barrow-downs became a forbidden and dreadful place that no living being dared to approach.
The Dúnedain were descendants of the Númenóreans, a mighty race that had once defeated Sauron and his dark armies, even capturing the Dark Lord and taking him back to the Isle of Númenor. Had the Númenóreans not later been deceived by Sauron—brazenly sailing to Valinor to claim the Undying Lands as their own, thus offending the Valar and Ilúvatar—the gods would not have punished them, and Númenor would not have sunk beneath the sea.
If that tragedy had never occurred, Sauron would have remained nothing more than a powerless prisoner, incapable of threatening Middle-earth.
Returning to the matter at hand, the Barrow-downs, as the holy burial grounds of the Dúnedain, primarily housed the tombs of their kings and nobles. According to tradition, the dead were buried with their weapons, jewelry, and treasured possessions.
Thus, if Robert truly needed a sharp cutting tool capable of slicing into a tree's heartwood, the Barrow-downs were indeed a tempting option.
The only real concern was the Barrow-wights themselves.
In life, these beings had been powerful Dúnedain. In death, corrupted by dark sorcery, they became undead creatures even more terrifying than before.
If Robert wished to venture into the Barrow-downs, he would need to make thorough preparations.
Since Tom Bombadil lived so close to the area and clearly knew its dangers, Robert asked him directly about the Barrow-wights.
Tom did not hide anything.
"The bodies of Barrow-wights are hard as iron," Tom said solemnly. "Their strength is immense, and their speed is lightning-fast. Ordinary folk wouldn't even see them before being attacked. When they appear, thick fog follows them, making them impossible to track. Anyone struck by their power is cursed—weakening, dying, and eventually turning into a Barrow-wight themselves."
Tom paused before continuing gravely, "What's worse, ordinary weapons are useless against them. Even if they are injured, their bodies recover rapidly."
Robert's expression grew increasingly serious. These creatures sounded even more dangerous than the hostile Ents of the Old Forest.
"Do they have any weaknesses?" Robert asked.
"They fear sunlight," Tom replied. "The moment true sunlight touches them, they dissipate."
Relief flashed across Robert's face—only for Tom to add calmly, "But they can summon mist and hide within it. Even during the day, the Barrow-downs are not truly safe."
"I understand," Robert said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for the warning, Tom."
For now, Robert abandoned the idea of going to the Barrow-downs. He decided to strengthen himself first, so that when the time came, he would have greater confidence in retrieving what he needed.
Turning his attention elsewhere, Robert focused on the first willow wand he had crafted.
Originally, it had been nothing more than a practice piece—kept only for its sentimental value. But since the Tree Heart wand could not yet be completed, he decided to finish this one and use it as a temporary substitute.
A wand consisted of two essential components: the body and the core. The body was already complete; all that remained was the core.
In the wizarding world, wand cores were typically made from parts of magical creatures. Ollivander favored dragon heartstrings, unicorn hairs, and phoenix feathers.
Unfortunately, unicorns and phoenixes did not exist in Middle-earth.
As for dragons, one slept beneath Erebor. Leaving aside the distance, even if the dragon were standing right in front of him, Robert lacked the strength to defeat it and harvest a heartstring.
As he agonized over this dilemma, his gaze fell upon Lady Goldberry, who was sitting among pots of water lilies, calmly combing her long golden hair.
Robert's eyes lit up.
Lady Goldberry was the River-daughter, a being of immense and ancient power. If her hair were used as a wand core, it would surely be extraordinary.
"Lady Goldberry," Robert asked respectfully, "may I have a single strand of your hair?"
"Hey! She's mine!" Tom suddenly jumped up, glaring fiercely at Robert.
Goldberry smiled warmly and placed a calming hand on Tom's arm before turning her gentle, knowing gaze toward Robert.
"Tell me," she said softly, "what do you need my hair for?"
Robert quickly explained his need for a wand core and apologized in case his request was offensive.
"It is a small matter," Goldberry said kindly. She plucked a single golden strand and handed it to him. "Is one enough? I can give you more if needed."
"That's more than enough!" Robert said hurriedly. He had the distinct feeling that if she pulled out another strand, Tom might glare him into ashes.
The moment the hair touched his hand, Robert felt the powerful magic contained within it, along with a serene aura of flowing water.
He was overjoyed. This was far superior to any magical creature core from the wizarding world.
"Hey, kid," Tom said gruffly, "since Goldberry gave you a hair, I'll give you one of mine too."
Before Robert could respond, Tom plucked out one of his own whiskers and handed it over.
Robert was stunned—and delighted.
Yet before he could fully rejoice, he watched in amazement as Tom's whisker wrapped around Goldberry's strand, merging into a single, thicker, golden-brown filament.
"…What?" Robert muttered.
Examining the merged strand carefully, his eyes widened in disbelief. Not only was there no conflict between the two powers, but they harmonized perfectly—multiplying their magical attributes severalfold.
With the wand core secured, Robert began the crafting process.
Since the Tree Heart could not yet be carved, he would use willow wood and the combined hair for now.
First, he collected dew untouched by sunlight, filling a small basin. He soaked the willow wand body and the core material in the dew and left them under moonlight for seven days, ensuring peak compatibility.
Next, he ventured into the Old Forest and located magical trees that produced resin—a towering pine and a lacquer tree.
Using Petrificus Totalus, he immobilized the restless trees and carefully collected pine resin and lacquer resin before sunrise.
At last, the true crafting began.
Robert drilled a narrow channel into the wand's base, engraved magical runes along its interior, and gently inserted the core using long tweezers. Molten pine resin was poured in carefully, sealing everything together.
After sanding and lacquering the wand, only one final ritual remained.
On the night of a full moon, Robert held the wand aloft, channeling magic into it while chanting:
"Runix Inscry Berry, Spiritus Aurari Resonantia…"
Moonlight gathered, forming silvery mist that flowed into the wand. A faint heartbeat echoed in his ears.
The wand felt alive.
"Lumos."
A brilliant sphere of light blossomed from its tip.
Robert smiled.
His first wand was complete.
FOR MORE CHAPTERS
patreon.com/Johnybairstow