Disclaimer: LotR and all its related characters do not belong to me and are used without permission. Book based. Spoilers potentially for RotK and TTT

Into Shadow She Rode

Chapter 6: Presumptions

by Papillon

Éomer threw open the doors of Meduseld and strode into the Great Hall angrily, not bothering to nod to the door wardens or bow to the lesser nobles, but stopping directly in front of Théoden's throne.

"Théoden, I must speak to you immediately!" he said loudly. When a response did not come, he looked up and saw three faces staring back at him with displeasure.

Éowyn examined her brother coolly. His hair was in disarray, his clothes rumpled, torn, and muddy, and his cheeks were ruddy and sweat-stained. He had obviously just returned from a ride, and she wondered that he would come so quickly, without even taking the time to make himself a little presentable. Besides, she thought with annoyance, he has interrupted the talk I was trying to have with Théoden! It is hard enough to speak without Gríma's interference, and now I have lost my chance.

Gríma broke the uncomfortable silence by admonishing Éomer, "You should not address your king thusly, young Lord Éomer."

Éomer's fists clenched, and he seemed about to respond angrily, but controlled himself, ignoring Gríma entirely and speaking directly to Théoden.

"We have just returned from another orc raid. We had gone to investigate reports of an unruly nobleman holding villagers hostage and demanding ransom, as you know, but we were ambushed. The orcs knew we would be there, they knew when we would come and how many of us there would be. Someone has been sending us false messages! There is a betrayer among us!"

He said the last deliberately loudly, and looked straight at Gríma. Gríma met his stare directly, and neither flinched nor looked away from the anger in his gaze. Inwardly, Éowyn sighed as she watched him. When will he learn we cannot yet challenge Gríma? Théoden is already far beyond our reach! He will never trust us about Gríma until we have proof, which we do not have!

Another voice spoke up, and all eyes turned to Théodred, who had just entered the hall. "Do you mean to say that someone within our court has the power to call up orcs? I think not. Nay, there is a betrayer among us, but he has not the strength. He has other aid, a very powerful ally."

Gríma opened his mouth to speak, but Éomer cut him off. "An ally, you say? Someone such as Saruman, perhaps?"

This is a dangerous game they play! thought Éowyn. Even if Saruman is our enemy, can we dare to stand against him?

"Saruman the White?" asked Gríma indignantly. "Surely you jest! He is the ally of Rohan, a steadfast one who has always been at our side in times of trial. He would never turn against us."

"If that is so," returned Éomer, "then where has he been of late, when we have been plagued by more and more orc raids and ambushes? They grow increasingly bold, and darkness creeps in. Why then does he not offer us aid?"

Gríma paused for only a moment, then said smoothly, "Of course he would, if he but knew of our plight. We must dispatch messengers immediately!"

Théoden held up his hand in protest and said, "My good counsellor, let us not be too hasty. The kingdom of Rohan is well able to protect itself without aid from others. I must ponder this matter further before I decide what course of action we will take."

Gríma bowed and replied, "Of course, my lord."

Perhaps it is just as well, Éowyn thought, for we do not know what Saruman is capable of and how he would react. And I fear him. There have been stories…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a messenger rushing into the room, a look of urgency upon his face. "My lord, my lord!" he cried, breathing heavily.

Théoden allowed him a moment to compose himself, then asked, "Yes? What is it?"

"Please do not be angry, my lord!" the messenger begged. "The outer guards tried to stop him, but…"

"Stop your muttering!" snapped Gríma, and Éowyn was surprised to see a look of anxiety on his face. "They tried to stop who?"

"They…Saruman," the man said reluctantly. "He came without notice, and the sentries failed to give the guards enough warning, and…he is within the city walls, coming to see you at this moment." He looked down, shame on his face.

"It is no fault of yours. You are dismissed," Théoden replied, and, when the messenger had left, continued, "Perhaps we may turn this unlooked for meeting to our advantage. I shall discuss with Saruman the matter of aid, and, if you wish it, Éomer, I will ask what cause he may be able to give for why the orcs are able to get information on our movements. Indeed, I look forward to this meeting, as unexpected as it is, for he is said to be very wise. You must all go quickly and dress in a manner fitting to greet such a guest."

Éowyn rose to depart with the rest of them, and, catching a glimpse of Gríma, marveled at the sudden pallid look of his face. What cause has he to fear Saruman? she wondered, dread filling her. What cause indeed?


Saruman smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs to Meduseld, his men behind him. I imagine that at this moment, Gríma is cowering in fear, afraid of my wrath. Well, he has good reason to be afraid…but that is not the sole purpose for my visit…

They reached the doors and Saruman strode by the guards, ignoring the raised swords, which were quickly dropped when they saw the authority with which he carried himself. He stepped into the high hall and amusedly surveyed the scene before his eyes. Gríma, face ashen as expected…Théoden, full of confidence, for he does not suspect what is being done to him even at this moment…those two young men, son and nephew of Théoden I believe, both filled with anger at my coming…but they are powerless and their emotions will only serve to betray them…and, ah, that must be the woman which Gríma tries to avoid speaking of…it is all too apparent that he desires her, but it matters not. It is the key to the power I hold over him, and as good as any other.

His eyes lingered longest on Éowyn, and the discomfort and fear in her eyes filled him with pleasure. She is quite pretty…but that I had expected. That is common. She is nothing more than another royal beauty, with a bit more spirit than most, but…I have seen my share. She is no different. She too can be controlled.

Éowyn's fists balled at her sides, and Saruman knew she had seen the dismissal in his eyes, the contempt that came from many long years and many women who had thought themselves strong. Once I admired them for their fierceness of living, but…mortals are all weak and foolish, merely pawns who must be shown what to do.

Théoden broke the silence that had fallen upon Saruman's entrance, and declared, "Saruman, our friend and ally, let me welcome you to our hall. Though your visit be unexpected, we shall treat you with honor and respect. Furthermore, there are many matters which I need bring to your attention, so let us make the most of the time you are with us."

"Unexpected?" Saruman echoed, and knew that all present marveled at the rich quality of his voice, save perhaps Gríma, who knew a little of the workings of it…though his mastery of it was still very poor, of course. "King Théoden, my friend, I sent messengers many days ago, to inform you of my visit. Surely you received the message, did you not?" Of course there were no messengers…but it serves me well for them to be unprepared.

"No messengers ever arrived," said Théoden in reply, "but it matters not. Come; let us address those concerns which have arisen in my hall of late. Please, sit here beside my throne." He motioned to a chair directly below his throne.

"I thank you for your kind offer, but I prefer to stand," said Saruman. Does he think me so foolish as to accept a seat below him? No, I shall stand above him, and look down upon him, as is fitting.

Théoden nodded slightly, then began: "My nephew, Éomer, has come to me with complaints of orc raids and orc ambushes. He claims the orcs know our positions and our movements and are therefore able to attack us when we are least ready. He also says that someone has been sending us false messages to lure us into traps where the orcs may sweep down on us. What do you have to say concerning this matter?"

Interesting that he places the blame on his nephew, as if he does not fully trust what the nephew has said. Gríma has done his work well. Drawing easily upon the skills of his voice, Saruman responded, "King Théoden, your nephew does right to worry so. Sauron's enemies are ever among us in these dark days."

"Sauron?" Théoden asked. "I have heard rumors of his power growing, but surely he is not that strong yet?"

These foolish mortals know nothing of the power growing in the East which will soon sweep down upon them! "Ah, but he is, my dear King Théoden. Though you know it not, I am wise beyond your measure, and I have seen it. For now he is content to cloak himself in disguises-but because of this, you must be ever the more vigilant. Do not trust foreigners, or even those among your own people who rebel against your will, for they may be the traitors of Sauron."

Théoden paused thoughtfully, and Saruman knew his words had taken root. He continued: "You may rely upon me for aid if ever you should need it. But I am afraid there is little I can offer you in arms and strength. Let me instead offer you advice."

Théoden nodded, now nearly completely under his spell. "I would humbly advise that you make very strong this city and its defenses. But do not take too much care for affairs in the outlying edges of your region! Before you are aware of it, you will be besieged, and therefore I advise you to concern yourself with remaining where you are, and not meddling in trivial affairs far from home."

Saruman could feel anger emanating from Éowyn, Éomer, and Théodred. They cared for the people in the small villages far away, and in other lands. Fools! My words are not directed at them-they are receiving other messages, though they know it not.

"Furthermore, I think it wise for you to make your nephew, Éomer, a marshal of the Mark, for then will he be able to address the issue of raiding orcs to his full satisfaction. However, I know that he is young, though very valiant, and perhaps unready or unwilling to accept such responsibility now, so you must allow him to assume this responsibility in the hour of his choosing." That is a personal safeguard…for with it he can be removed whenever I wish. He will not choose to leave his sister yet, but when I judge him no longer useful or a threat, I shall, through Gríma, cause him to leave.

Éomer's wrath was forgotten in his gladness upon hearing Saruman's advice, but Saruman noticed that Éowyn's was not. She will have to be controlled more subtly…I must speak with Gríma.

Théoden readily agreed to follow Saruman's advice, as he had known he would. He has been weakened by Gríma, and now is so easily controlled! How wonderful! Théoden then declared, "Let us end this council, which has been most satisfactory for all of us. Please, let me show you to your chambers, Saruman."

"You are gracious indeed," responded Saruman, and, as he turned to follow the guard Théoden had summoned, turned his eyes directly upon Gríma, who immediately sprang out of his seat, muttering, "My Lord Théoden, allow me to show our guest." Gríma, my slave, you have lost all of your poise in your utter fear! Saruman thought with amusement.


They walked along in silence, passing through empty passages which echoed with their footsteps. Finally Gríma dared to ask timidly, "My lord Saruman? Are you angered by aught I have done?"

Saruman did not answer immediately, preferring to let Gríma suffer. Now he discovers that the contempt he holds for me when I am away vanishes when I am present. I know what is in his heart…I know how he purposes to be mightier than me-what a vain fool he is! He needs to be taught that he is nothing without me, and that if I wished, I could smite him where he stands.

He spoke, using his most commanding voice, "Yes, my slave, there is." He paused a moment to enjoy the look of sudden guilt and fear which crossed Gríma's face. "I know the secret plots you hold in your heart. Nothing can be hidden from me. You must realize this, and never think to scheme against me."

"My l-l-lord," Gríma stammered, "I know not of what you speak."

Saruman stopped walking abruptly, and Gríma clumsily halted his steps. Saruman turned to face Gríma, looking down imposingly. "They call you Wormtongue, do you know, Gríma? It is a fitting name, for you are truly a worm, not worthy to be in my presence."

Gríma bowed low. "I know this, my lord. Please forgive what I have done to offend you."

Ah, now he is mine. So easily won over…by some of the very same tricks he himself uses on others! Saruman changed his tone, becoming more soothing and consoling. "Yet you are still far above most mortals, who worry themselves with trivial things and do not know the true meaning of power. They abuse you, treat you as dirt, never suspecting that one day you will avenge yourself, and they shall know the true meaning of pain."

Gríma looked up, hope and desire alight in his eyes. "Yes, my lord, one day, with your aid, I shall make them all suffer, make them all regret how they have treated me! They are all fools who do not understand the greatness you have taught me. But we shall show them!"

Saruman held up a cautioning hand. "Be not too hasty, my obedient slave. All will come in due time. But you must be cautious and subtle, for our time is not yet come-though it will soon." Abruptly, he changed his tone yet again. "I have seen the woman you desire."

Gríma lowered his eyes, and glanced cunningly up at Saruman. If only he knew how transparent the posturing of mortals is to those such as me. Saruman continued: "She is beautiful, but she is not an easy prize. Are you certain there is no other woman I may offer you?"

Gríma said vehemently, "There is none other I will have than Éowyn, my lord. I must have her!"

Saruman paused as if in thought, though of course he already knew what needed to be said. "Then you shall have her. But you must be careful. She is dangerous, as is her brother, and even her cousin. You must wait for things which I have set in motion to be completed. Do not act too early!"

Reassured that his prize was secure, Gríma said obediently, "When then shall she be ready, my lord?"

"You will know when it is time," responded Saruman, "for I shall inform you. Only then may you begin to slowly move in, so slowly that she is powerless to stop you, so that she loses her strength and will to live day by day. Wait until all her supports are destroyed, until all her reasons for living are gone. Then she shall lose her power to resist you-then she shall surrender to you, giving in to the inevitable."

"But my lord," Gríma protested, "I do not wish her completely devoid of all spirit!"

Saruman said sympathetically, "Ah, yes, my slave, it is unfortunate but necessary. You do not know the ways of mortal women as I do. They can be tamed no other way, for, when assailed upon all sides, they simply collapse. But I promise you that you shall still receive much enjoyment from her, and if you wish, I have subtle drinks which would give her some personality, once she is yours."

Gríma sighed, but Saruman's words had worked upon him and so he changed the subject. "Are you certain that she would not merely go mad, like a desperate cornered animal? Is that not a risk? She is an extraordinary woman, and I do not think such fire would be extinguished easily. I imagine some small part would still remain, and burst into flame when all other hope is lost."

"Do not question me, Gríma!" Saruman said forcefully, watching Gríma cower before him, then added contemptuously, "Mortal women are all alike. They imagine themselves great and strong, but in actuality they are not valiant enough to face death and hopelessness. They would rather choose even such a fate as a life with you, rather than boldly strike out. Do not trouble yourself further, my slave, over these matters. Merely do what you are commanded, and all things shall fall into place. You are dismissed."

Gríma bowed, and left Saruman alone to walk the halls and seek his chambers.

A/N: The boring chapter, dun dun dun. Er, and I know I promised I'd update regularly, and two weeks isn't exactly regularly…well, it sort of is. But I haven't a very good excuse. I guess it's just that this chapter was kind of boring for me to write. Not terribly interesting, but it is a necessary chapter for several reasons, some of which will only become clear later, and so it had to be written, and now that it's done I don't mind it that much I guess.

I don't have many comments about it, though, other than that I kind of had to make myself write it. It wasn't so bad once I got started, but…I need to go on another hike! Hopefully next weekend I can. Anyway, I decided while writing it to make most of it from Saruman's point of view, partly because I imagine that by the end of this story, I will get so incredibly sick of Eowyn and Eomer, so I might as well take the opportunity while it's there. So…this is my vision of what Saruman's thinking. Not quite wise, aged, or powerful enough, but I'm using the excuse that by this point he's been so corrupted that he's lost some of his majesty and wisdom and such. I don't think I'd ever try writing from Gandalf's point of view, since he grows in those things, rather than decreases. But you never know.

So…the next chapter is the big one, the first turning point I suppose, where all this buildup actually leads to something. And it is basically written, though it must be edited and I must gain the courage to put it up and receive reader's responses. So it should be up soon-it's not long, but…I like it. Well…I guess I'll tell you more about it when it's actually up!

My reviewers have returned, and made me very happy! Believe me, as slow as this chapter was (and shouldn't have been), it would have been even slower if I didn't have the guilt about not giving you guys more to read! Thanks Joanna (Tolkien-esque? Thanks! I think I'm losing more of it and incorporating more of my own as the story goes on, though), pip4life/shadowkitty129 (I'm sorry I'm so slow-but it's partly because I'm a school kid, too! And all questions will be answered later), Nimrodel (I'm glad you liked the game-that was my little attempt at creative back story), Wilwarin (er...all questions will be answered, yea or nay, in the next chapter [well, not all, but...]), pommekitty (I love my regular reviewers! Hope this Saruman chapter isn't too boring-I'm not a big fan of his either, obviously), Emme (it will keep coming, that I guarantee, but as for the updating soon...I'll try!), Tateybinks (He is very icky, yes-I'm glad I portrayed that well. And then you get to see him wimp out in this chapter!), and rohan-nitpick (Soon you'll get to see-but never lose hope for a happy ending, even though there's going to be a lot of pain first).

See you soon! (If my promises about updating regularly have any meaning anymore. Sigh)