A red sun was setting when Gandalf and his companions Aragorn, Legolas and
Gimli met the sweeping planes before Edoras. They stayed their horses and
sat looking at the great city. Gandalf seemed of both wonderment and pity.
"Edoras, and the golden hall of Meduseld." He spoke to the others. "Saruman's treachery runs deep. He has taken hold of Theoden, king of Rohan. He has overthrown his very mind and now seeks control of all that lies within these borders."
The three looked saddened by this grave news, but were now filled with a sudden determination to rid Saruman from this place.
"I warn you now," Gandalf continued "do not look for welcome here and be mindful of your words." With that he spurred Shadowfax and set off at speed towards the city gates.
As they approached, Gandalf in the lead, the great wooden doors of the outer wall, opened without question. The people of Edoras knew of Gandalf. However, it was to be seen if the guards had opened the doors from fear of the wizard, or they welcomed him as a last attempt to save their king.
As they entered, the people all turned from their work to see who had come. They seemed sombre and without hope. Legolas took in all the faces as they passed.
"I feel a sadness growing in my heart." He began slowly. "These people have suffered great loss."
"Aye," Gimli agreed from behind his Elven friend "You'd find more cheer in a graveyard."
Still they continued up the hill. The only sounds breaking the silence, the beating of their steeds' hooves upon the ground, or the occasional quiet murmur of the townsfolk. Aragorn had fallen to the back of the group and sat silent. His thoughts seemed elsewhere. His gaze fell everywhere, but to the great hall that was now quite close. Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli were in quiet conversation when he did finally look upon the hall. He did not in fact take much heed of its form, but to the lone figure standing on the steps of its doors. His eyes followed her golden hair and brilliant white dress. He sensed great sadness in her and a coldness waiting to consume her very heart. For what seemed and age he looked to her, till suddenly she turned and retreated into the golden hall. Aragorn was broken from his thoughts as his companions stopped in front of him. They had reached the stairs of Meduseld.
As the four met the great arched entrance, they were instantly greeted by Hama, the Doorward of Theoden.
"I can not allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhem. By order of, Grima Wormtongue."
Gandalf surveyed the look of disgust on Hama's face when he had spoken of Grima and thought intently. He nodded and motioned for the others to relinquish their weapons. With much grumbling from the Dwarf and the stern warning from Aragorn that no man was to touch Anduril, save Elendil's heir, they did so. Gandalf looked back to Hama as though to be led in.
"Your staff." Hama said definitely, looking to what was held in the wizard's hand.
"Oh," said Gandalf gravely. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick?"
"Some would call it a walking stick and others a staff," Hama retorted "and a staff in the hand of a wizard may be more then a prop for age."
"Come now," Gandalf returned comically. The bearded Doorward looked over the four.
"Very well," he continued "you may enter the king's hall. I have no reason to distrust you." With a bow Hama welcomed them inside. As they entered, the doors were closed and bolted behind them.
The room was dim and Smoky, though they could make out the entirety of the chamber. High Councilmen lined the outers. Gimli was quick to notice there were several guards also, and they, unlike them, were armed quite substantially. Gandalf's eyes narrowed as they met the top of the hall. At first glance there seemed three females - by their build - two with blonde hair and one a brunette. Yet one had short hair, so indeed was male. They were on their knees facing the king, each with a dagger held at their throat. Their hands were bound behind their backs and the male seemed to be crying uncontrollably. Grima was stalking back and forth in front of them, most unaware of the new arrivals. Though the four comrades were most keened eared, they did not need that skill on this occasion. They caught easily what Wormtongue was saying.
"I will ask, only once more, before I order your deaths. Who are you and where do you come from?"
"Eat me." The brunette was heard to say.
"You insolent wench," Grima cried, fury shaking his voice. He had not understood what she meant by this response, but it was clear it was not the answer to his question. He nodded to the guards. A booming voice filled the air and Wormtongue jumped back in fear.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." The anger of Gandalf was evident. It seemed to radiate from him, filling the entire room. For now though, Grima tried to match it.
"Why have you come, Gandalf Stormcrow?" His lip curled in disgust. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." Grima had walked up and met the wizard face to face.
"Be silent!" Gandalf cut him off in rage. "There are more pressing things afoot then listening to the ramblings of a witless worm." The wizard lifted his staff. Grima's face fell in terror. He looked around the room as though begging for help.
"Your staff," he choked. "Why have you not taken the wizard's staff?"
Six guards jumped out from the shadows and made for Gandalf. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were ready. As the guards came upon them they jumped into the fray.
"Help, help," Aragorn heard a woman cry. He turned, worry on his face, to where the woman were. To his astonishment they had vanished. Instead, he now saw three guards on the ground motionless, the rope cut that moments before had bound their hands and the blonde headed man - hands still bound - trying to crawl on his back from the battle. Though puzzled, he focussed again on his task. A guard was upon Gandalf, near enough to strike. Aragorn's eyes opened with shock.
"Gandalf," he cried, running towards the attacker. As though from shadow, the brunette who he had heard proclaim "eat me," had grabbed the man from behind and thrown him several feet across the room into a pillar that supported the roof. Aragorn's amazement deepened. 'Who, or more to the fact what, were these maidens who possessed such speed and strength?' He thought to himself. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and struck the man hard in the face, blood spilling from the guard's nose as he hit the floor. Aragorn turned, but again she was gone.
He looked hurriedly around the room to see the elf and dwarf lifting the crying man from the stone floor. They released him and he flung himself at both of them inturn, holding them in a tight embrace. The two maidens held Grima to the wall, his eyes shooting from one to the other. Fear his only expression. His mouth motioned soundlessly though it was clear he was trying to utter apologies and beg for release. The brunette lifted a dagger to Grima's eye.
"No my lady," Aragorn cried, coming to her side and grabbing her wrist. She looked dangerously at him.
"We must wait," he said pleadingly. She looked into his eyes, old, grey and wise and lowered the dagger, though she did not let go of Grima. The maiden with shoulder length blonde hair was open eyed, looking towards the throne. Aragorn turned also.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf spoke in anger. He pointed his staff to the king's chest. Theoden was thrown backwards, hard into his chair. His grizzled grey hair and ancient face contorted with pain and fury, a sinister and powerful voice issued from his lips.
"Rohan is mine."
"Be gone!" Gandalf bellowed, and in an instant of yells and a flash of light, Theoden was free.
***
Saruman slid across his chamber in agony. The palantir, which moments before was as a ball of fire, was now black as night. He staggered to his feet and felt his brow. The pain was immense and in the reflection of the floor he saw a large bruise running nearly the entire length of his face.
"Oh that's gotta hurt like a bitch."
Saruman turned, yet before him was nothing save the dark walls of the chamber. 'Has that fools magic enfeebled my mind?' He thought to himself. Still his eyes searched the chamber.
"Who are you?" he spoke menacingly to the dark. "I command you show yourself."
"I think the old mans scared," said a voice. This time though, it was another, unlike the first. Though both, Saruman thought, did not sound like the tongue of any place known to him.
"And he should be," said the first again. Saruman knew evil. He knew what it sounded like and he spoke to it often. This indeed was evil.
"If you show yourself now," Saruman said still turning in all directions "you may live to tell your names and where you hail from." He waited for a reply, but none came.
"Mighty spirits you must be, to enter Orthanc without my leave, and without notice." Saruman's lip curled into a faint smile, which fled almost as quickly as it had come. A roaring laughter echoed around the chamber.
"Bullocks, we're not bloody spirits. Not quite anyway."
"We do have some questions for you though Santa," spoke the first again. Saruman turned again and this time he saw what had been speaking.
Two men, young at first glance, stood before him. Saruman however, felt an ancientness to them and a strange sort of power.
"How did you enter this place? How did you get past my guards?" He prompted.
"Well," said the second, pushing the door behind him open "we did have a welcoming committee." A broad smile lined his face. Saruman stepped aside and looked down the long corridor leading to the chamber. No less then twenty Uruk-hai lay dead, their black blood still flowing over the stone floor. Some were decapitated; others had swords and axes still embedded in their skulls. Loose arms and legs were scattered here and there.
Saruman turned back to the two. The first now sat in Saruman's high black chair, leg cocked over the side, while the other stood, arms crossed and eyes narrowed to the wizard. The one in the chair looked around giving a great sniff.
"Nice place you've got here." Saruman stood, still amazed, gazing from his fallen warriors to the two invaders. How was it that many of his mighty Uruks were slain, yet these 'men' were still standing, no visible marks on them, not even a spray of blood? Saruman's teeth were now beared.
"Will you make me ask my question again?" He said, eyes ablaze with anger.
"Yep," said the second simply.
"Again and again," added the first.
"You see old boy," the second started again "we own this place now. And you too."
"AHH!" Saruman roared. He lifted his hand to the direction of his throne and his staff flew to his hand.
"Insolent beasts." He raised his staff and struck out at the one standing. Saruman's magic was still strong. The power of his voice did not seem to work on these creatures, so he thought it time for punishment.
In the movement of his staff the one standing had been strewn across the floor. Saruman swung at the other and he was thrown forcibly out of the chair and onto the cold marble. Saruman walked to the second. His face had changed and Saruman was puzzled. The creatures eyes had narrowed and the face seemed tightened. Two long teeth, like a wolves fangs, now protruded over the bottom lip.
"What is this devilry?" Saruman asked himself. Suddenly its eyes were open and Saruman acted. Again he flung his staff and the creature flew to the wall opposite. He was held there both by the wizard's magic and too by the torch bracket he was now impaled upon. Scarlet blood flowed from its stomach and onto the floor. It began to choke and cough as blood spilled from its mouth.
"Now that you have seen my power, perhaps your friend's tongue will flow more easily," Saruman grinned at his greatness. The face of the one on the bracket had become human again and it let out a terrible laugh
"Don't bet on it mate," he returned sinisterly.
"You have not died?" Saruman chocked in amazement. His time to wonder was short lived. He felt a hand grasp his throat from behind. The other moving his long white hair so the creature could whisper in his ear.
"Think you're pretty clever don't you? But I guess the senility is starting to kick in. Kinda forgot about me didn't you." The other creature spoke to Saruman, yet he felt breath neither hot nor cold on his neck.
"Now let him down," it spoke again, a whisper only the wizard could hear. Its grip tightened on his throat and he could not breathe. He waved his staff and with a sickening, sucking sound the creature on the bracket, fell face down on the floor.
"Good boy."
The wizard let out a cry. The creature had bitten into him. He felt his thousands of years of life slipping away. The room grew blurry and he dropped his staff.
With a swift crack the wizard's neck was broken, his dead body limp on the ground. The top of his robes and the back of his hair, stained in his own red blood. The creature on the floor stirred and yelled "OW!" The one standing called to him.
"You know Spike, I think I am going to like this place."
"I'm sure you will Angelus," Spike called back "at least you got to eat."
"Edoras, and the golden hall of Meduseld." He spoke to the others. "Saruman's treachery runs deep. He has taken hold of Theoden, king of Rohan. He has overthrown his very mind and now seeks control of all that lies within these borders."
The three looked saddened by this grave news, but were now filled with a sudden determination to rid Saruman from this place.
"I warn you now," Gandalf continued "do not look for welcome here and be mindful of your words." With that he spurred Shadowfax and set off at speed towards the city gates.
As they approached, Gandalf in the lead, the great wooden doors of the outer wall, opened without question. The people of Edoras knew of Gandalf. However, it was to be seen if the guards had opened the doors from fear of the wizard, or they welcomed him as a last attempt to save their king.
As they entered, the people all turned from their work to see who had come. They seemed sombre and without hope. Legolas took in all the faces as they passed.
"I feel a sadness growing in my heart." He began slowly. "These people have suffered great loss."
"Aye," Gimli agreed from behind his Elven friend "You'd find more cheer in a graveyard."
Still they continued up the hill. The only sounds breaking the silence, the beating of their steeds' hooves upon the ground, or the occasional quiet murmur of the townsfolk. Aragorn had fallen to the back of the group and sat silent. His thoughts seemed elsewhere. His gaze fell everywhere, but to the great hall that was now quite close. Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli were in quiet conversation when he did finally look upon the hall. He did not in fact take much heed of its form, but to the lone figure standing on the steps of its doors. His eyes followed her golden hair and brilliant white dress. He sensed great sadness in her and a coldness waiting to consume her very heart. For what seemed and age he looked to her, till suddenly she turned and retreated into the golden hall. Aragorn was broken from his thoughts as his companions stopped in front of him. They had reached the stairs of Meduseld.
As the four met the great arched entrance, they were instantly greeted by Hama, the Doorward of Theoden.
"I can not allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhem. By order of, Grima Wormtongue."
Gandalf surveyed the look of disgust on Hama's face when he had spoken of Grima and thought intently. He nodded and motioned for the others to relinquish their weapons. With much grumbling from the Dwarf and the stern warning from Aragorn that no man was to touch Anduril, save Elendil's heir, they did so. Gandalf looked back to Hama as though to be led in.
"Your staff." Hama said definitely, looking to what was held in the wizard's hand.
"Oh," said Gandalf gravely. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick?"
"Some would call it a walking stick and others a staff," Hama retorted "and a staff in the hand of a wizard may be more then a prop for age."
"Come now," Gandalf returned comically. The bearded Doorward looked over the four.
"Very well," he continued "you may enter the king's hall. I have no reason to distrust you." With a bow Hama welcomed them inside. As they entered, the doors were closed and bolted behind them.
The room was dim and Smoky, though they could make out the entirety of the chamber. High Councilmen lined the outers. Gimli was quick to notice there were several guards also, and they, unlike them, were armed quite substantially. Gandalf's eyes narrowed as they met the top of the hall. At first glance there seemed three females - by their build - two with blonde hair and one a brunette. Yet one had short hair, so indeed was male. They were on their knees facing the king, each with a dagger held at their throat. Their hands were bound behind their backs and the male seemed to be crying uncontrollably. Grima was stalking back and forth in front of them, most unaware of the new arrivals. Though the four comrades were most keened eared, they did not need that skill on this occasion. They caught easily what Wormtongue was saying.
"I will ask, only once more, before I order your deaths. Who are you and where do you come from?"
"Eat me." The brunette was heard to say.
"You insolent wench," Grima cried, fury shaking his voice. He had not understood what she meant by this response, but it was clear it was not the answer to his question. He nodded to the guards. A booming voice filled the air and Wormtongue jumped back in fear.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." The anger of Gandalf was evident. It seemed to radiate from him, filling the entire room. For now though, Grima tried to match it.
"Why have you come, Gandalf Stormcrow?" His lip curled in disgust. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." Grima had walked up and met the wizard face to face.
"Be silent!" Gandalf cut him off in rage. "There are more pressing things afoot then listening to the ramblings of a witless worm." The wizard lifted his staff. Grima's face fell in terror. He looked around the room as though begging for help.
"Your staff," he choked. "Why have you not taken the wizard's staff?"
Six guards jumped out from the shadows and made for Gandalf. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were ready. As the guards came upon them they jumped into the fray.
"Help, help," Aragorn heard a woman cry. He turned, worry on his face, to where the woman were. To his astonishment they had vanished. Instead, he now saw three guards on the ground motionless, the rope cut that moments before had bound their hands and the blonde headed man - hands still bound - trying to crawl on his back from the battle. Though puzzled, he focussed again on his task. A guard was upon Gandalf, near enough to strike. Aragorn's eyes opened with shock.
"Gandalf," he cried, running towards the attacker. As though from shadow, the brunette who he had heard proclaim "eat me," had grabbed the man from behind and thrown him several feet across the room into a pillar that supported the roof. Aragorn's amazement deepened. 'Who, or more to the fact what, were these maidens who possessed such speed and strength?' He thought to himself. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and struck the man hard in the face, blood spilling from the guard's nose as he hit the floor. Aragorn turned, but again she was gone.
He looked hurriedly around the room to see the elf and dwarf lifting the crying man from the stone floor. They released him and he flung himself at both of them inturn, holding them in a tight embrace. The two maidens held Grima to the wall, his eyes shooting from one to the other. Fear his only expression. His mouth motioned soundlessly though it was clear he was trying to utter apologies and beg for release. The brunette lifted a dagger to Grima's eye.
"No my lady," Aragorn cried, coming to her side and grabbing her wrist. She looked dangerously at him.
"We must wait," he said pleadingly. She looked into his eyes, old, grey and wise and lowered the dagger, though she did not let go of Grima. The maiden with shoulder length blonde hair was open eyed, looking towards the throne. Aragorn turned also.
"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf spoke in anger. He pointed his staff to the king's chest. Theoden was thrown backwards, hard into his chair. His grizzled grey hair and ancient face contorted with pain and fury, a sinister and powerful voice issued from his lips.
"Rohan is mine."
"Be gone!" Gandalf bellowed, and in an instant of yells and a flash of light, Theoden was free.
***
Saruman slid across his chamber in agony. The palantir, which moments before was as a ball of fire, was now black as night. He staggered to his feet and felt his brow. The pain was immense and in the reflection of the floor he saw a large bruise running nearly the entire length of his face.
"Oh that's gotta hurt like a bitch."
Saruman turned, yet before him was nothing save the dark walls of the chamber. 'Has that fools magic enfeebled my mind?' He thought to himself. Still his eyes searched the chamber.
"Who are you?" he spoke menacingly to the dark. "I command you show yourself."
"I think the old mans scared," said a voice. This time though, it was another, unlike the first. Though both, Saruman thought, did not sound like the tongue of any place known to him.
"And he should be," said the first again. Saruman knew evil. He knew what it sounded like and he spoke to it often. This indeed was evil.
"If you show yourself now," Saruman said still turning in all directions "you may live to tell your names and where you hail from." He waited for a reply, but none came.
"Mighty spirits you must be, to enter Orthanc without my leave, and without notice." Saruman's lip curled into a faint smile, which fled almost as quickly as it had come. A roaring laughter echoed around the chamber.
"Bullocks, we're not bloody spirits. Not quite anyway."
"We do have some questions for you though Santa," spoke the first again. Saruman turned again and this time he saw what had been speaking.
Two men, young at first glance, stood before him. Saruman however, felt an ancientness to them and a strange sort of power.
"How did you enter this place? How did you get past my guards?" He prompted.
"Well," said the second, pushing the door behind him open "we did have a welcoming committee." A broad smile lined his face. Saruman stepped aside and looked down the long corridor leading to the chamber. No less then twenty Uruk-hai lay dead, their black blood still flowing over the stone floor. Some were decapitated; others had swords and axes still embedded in their skulls. Loose arms and legs were scattered here and there.
Saruman turned back to the two. The first now sat in Saruman's high black chair, leg cocked over the side, while the other stood, arms crossed and eyes narrowed to the wizard. The one in the chair looked around giving a great sniff.
"Nice place you've got here." Saruman stood, still amazed, gazing from his fallen warriors to the two invaders. How was it that many of his mighty Uruks were slain, yet these 'men' were still standing, no visible marks on them, not even a spray of blood? Saruman's teeth were now beared.
"Will you make me ask my question again?" He said, eyes ablaze with anger.
"Yep," said the second simply.
"Again and again," added the first.
"You see old boy," the second started again "we own this place now. And you too."
"AHH!" Saruman roared. He lifted his hand to the direction of his throne and his staff flew to his hand.
"Insolent beasts." He raised his staff and struck out at the one standing. Saruman's magic was still strong. The power of his voice did not seem to work on these creatures, so he thought it time for punishment.
In the movement of his staff the one standing had been strewn across the floor. Saruman swung at the other and he was thrown forcibly out of the chair and onto the cold marble. Saruman walked to the second. His face had changed and Saruman was puzzled. The creatures eyes had narrowed and the face seemed tightened. Two long teeth, like a wolves fangs, now protruded over the bottom lip.
"What is this devilry?" Saruman asked himself. Suddenly its eyes were open and Saruman acted. Again he flung his staff and the creature flew to the wall opposite. He was held there both by the wizard's magic and too by the torch bracket he was now impaled upon. Scarlet blood flowed from its stomach and onto the floor. It began to choke and cough as blood spilled from its mouth.
"Now that you have seen my power, perhaps your friend's tongue will flow more easily," Saruman grinned at his greatness. The face of the one on the bracket had become human again and it let out a terrible laugh
"Don't bet on it mate," he returned sinisterly.
"You have not died?" Saruman chocked in amazement. His time to wonder was short lived. He felt a hand grasp his throat from behind. The other moving his long white hair so the creature could whisper in his ear.
"Think you're pretty clever don't you? But I guess the senility is starting to kick in. Kinda forgot about me didn't you." The other creature spoke to Saruman, yet he felt breath neither hot nor cold on his neck.
"Now let him down," it spoke again, a whisper only the wizard could hear. Its grip tightened on his throat and he could not breathe. He waved his staff and with a sickening, sucking sound the creature on the bracket, fell face down on the floor.
"Good boy."
The wizard let out a cry. The creature had bitten into him. He felt his thousands of years of life slipping away. The room grew blurry and he dropped his staff.
With a swift crack the wizard's neck was broken, his dead body limp on the ground. The top of his robes and the back of his hair, stained in his own red blood. The creature on the floor stirred and yelled "OW!" The one standing called to him.
"You know Spike, I think I am going to like this place."
"I'm sure you will Angelus," Spike called back "at least you got to eat."