Author's Note: Thanks, Bex. I wish that I could say that the jerky beginning was some kind of stroke of genius to let one know that this isn't the same as Tolkien's world, but I can't. The truth is, I can't really write a good Saruman and since he starts the piece, it unfortunately shows.
Part 5:
Eomer finished writing his letter and carefully tied it to the bird's leg, hoping his sister remembered their code. "You know where to go, right?"
An affirming chirp was his answer and he released the bird into the sky, whispering, "Good luck."
Turning once the bird had left his sight, he made his way to the feasting hall for the party. But the sounds of merry laughter left him feeling cold and he walked to the stables instead, brushing down his horse. He nickered softly, rubbing his face against the distressed prince's shoulder, as if to ask what was wrong. "I'm worried about Eowyn."
"Do you think it's wise to talk to a horse when you cannot hear their reply?" A soft voice asked.
Eomer whipped around, searching the din for the one who spoke to him.
"Forgive me for startling you. Are you one of the men from Gondor?" The dark haired elf moved away from the door and into his eyesight.
"No, I'm from Rohan. My name is Eomer and you are?"
"How remise of me. I am Elladan, son of your host, Elrond. I have a twin brother, Elrohir, you'll probably meet him at some point." With a smile, he said, "You'll be able to tell the difference between us because I'm the nice one."
"Is that so?"
"That's what I've been told."
Eomer couldn't help it, he laughed.
Elladan smiled approvingly, "Much better. It's bad for our image to have one of our guests looking so miserable. Who's Eowyn?"
The Rohan prince sat on some hay. Resting his head on his hand, he considered the elf before him carefully. "She's my twin sister."
"And you are worried about her because..." He sat down beside him, watching him.
"I left her back in Edoras with some Istari named Saruman. According to Gandalf, and my own instincts, he isn't one of the good guys. I decided to write to her and ask her to keep an eye on him, see what she can find out about his actions. But Gandalf's got me worried about her being in more danger than she already is. And I can't believe I told you that." He ended with a shocked look. "You don't seem at all surprised by this?"
Elladan shrugged, "I have that affect on people."
"I suppose it gets irritating," he observed.
"Only when I hear something really dull," the elf quipped.
Eomer smiled, "Well, whatever your reason for asking me, thanks. It helped."
"I didn't do much, except escape one long and potentially boring party." He reached out and stroked the horse's nose, "He's a magnificent animal."
"Thank you. We take pride in our horses."
"You have every reason to. I hear they are wonderful for long journeys." Elladan said, moving to sit beside him. Horses had always been something of a passion for him.
He nodded, warming up to his favorite topic eagerly. "We breed them for speed, endurance, and beauty."
***
Days later:
Sitting on her window bench, embroidery forgotten on her lap, Eowyn watched the sky. Worry ate away at her stomach as she thoughts about Eomer. About her people and the great upheavals tearing their lives apart. Food had become anathema to her.
Saruman was not angry to find that her brother was gone. Pensive, yes. But cool and collected.
She was afraid of this reaction more than anything else.
"My Lady Eowyn," a soft voice from the doorway spoke, "His Lordship begs for an audience with you."
"Very well." She rose and put her work aside, "Inform him that I will join him as soon as I make myself more presentable."
"Yes, my lady." She curtsied and left.
Quickly changing into a simple white dress, she sighed. The color which used to symbolize hope was becoming something else in her eyes. A soft coo turned her away from the door. Upon the window sill, a kittiwake waited patiently to be noticed, its leg outstretched. Pulling a live mouse from a trap, she offered it to the bird in exchange for the note.
"My Soster,
How go your court games?
The seasons are quite strange here.
Do be a dear and cast a few lures.
Your Broir."
It took her a moment to decipher his message. When she did, she composed a reply quickly and with a determined nod of her head.
"My Broir,
What do you think? My queen's been caught.
I am glad you a enjoying the odd, it suits you.
It will be my pleasure to do so, think they'll bite?
You Soster."
"Return to sender." It was whispered, trying the message to the bird. It left its perch and soared away into the afternoon sky. She sighed, "Would that I could do the same."
Smoothing her dress down, she quickly went to the study. Knocking, she waited for permission to enter. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Please, Lady Eowyn, there is no need to stand on ceremony with me. I would appreciate it if you would call me Saruman." He rose from the desk and led her to one of the chairs, sitting down across from her.
"As you wish, Saruman." She was proud of her calm voice. Though the more time she spent with him, the more he unnerved her.
He didn't comment on her lack of allowing him familiarity with her name. "Tea?"
"Please." She murmured, pouring him a cup. After taking a few sips in relatively companionable silence, she looked over at him. "You didn't ask me down here just for a cup of tea, what is it that you really wanted from me?"
"What makes you suspect that, Lady Eowyn?" Neither deny nor accepting her words.
"Idle talk and conversation does not suit you." She replied, looking at him over the rim of her cup. "If it was, you would have traveled more."
"You see me as a scholar?"
"You do not?" She challenged him,taking a sip of her tea.
"I have found, Lady Eowyn, that appearances are often deceiving."
Acknowledging nod. "But rarely are my instincts wrong, they say that you are more a man of quiet contemplation than of action."
Holding out a sheaf of papers to her, he indicated that she should look them over. "And you would be quite correct, I did ask you here for more than a cup of tea. I have been going over King Theoden's work and have found several discrepancies in them."
She perused the papers slowly, carefully noting those which he'd signaled out as problematic. After a moment, she turned to look at him. "This would be about the time I started to help him out more. You do not seem to find anything objectionable about my work." Slightly questioning his intentions.
Saruman sat down, nodding. "I found your work to be insightful and factual. There was nothing in it to indicate a tendency to minimize the problem and your solutions were practical. You work is grounded and real, it shows the grasp you have on what is going wrong in Rohan."
Though she tried to quell it, Eowyn could not quite stop the thrill of pride that his words caused her and looked away from him.
"Have I offended you in some way?"
She shook her head. "No, quite the contrary."
"Really?" Saruman was surprised by this admission. "Surely you've heard others praise your work."
"Not since mother died," she whispered.
"I am horrified to hear you say so. How remiss of your relatives." Gently dropping the doubt about her family's feelings for her required a steady hand and careful application and a mountain of patience, something Wormtongue knew a little of but did not develop it sufficiently. Fortunately for his plans, Saruman was a master of waiting.
"They had other things to concern themselves with. They did not need to be spending their time validating me and my actions. I am not someone who needs constant attention and showers of praises to feel of worth, Istari." Sharp.
"Of course not." Soothing, "But surely they could've said something to you once in a while. Though I am sure you are right, you know them best. And I am but a scholar of words, not people."
"Oh, I feel certain that you are more than a scholar, Saruman." Quiet.
But as their eyes meet over the rim of her cup, something unspoken passed between them.
The rest of the afternoon passed in quiet discussion. Oddly unwilling to exert even the slightest of magical force on her, the Istari studied her instead. He paid careful attention to what she said, as well as what she implied.
Part 5:
Eomer finished writing his letter and carefully tied it to the bird's leg, hoping his sister remembered their code. "You know where to go, right?"
An affirming chirp was his answer and he released the bird into the sky, whispering, "Good luck."
Turning once the bird had left his sight, he made his way to the feasting hall for the party. But the sounds of merry laughter left him feeling cold and he walked to the stables instead, brushing down his horse. He nickered softly, rubbing his face against the distressed prince's shoulder, as if to ask what was wrong. "I'm worried about Eowyn."
"Do you think it's wise to talk to a horse when you cannot hear their reply?" A soft voice asked.
Eomer whipped around, searching the din for the one who spoke to him.
"Forgive me for startling you. Are you one of the men from Gondor?" The dark haired elf moved away from the door and into his eyesight.
"No, I'm from Rohan. My name is Eomer and you are?"
"How remise of me. I am Elladan, son of your host, Elrond. I have a twin brother, Elrohir, you'll probably meet him at some point." With a smile, he said, "You'll be able to tell the difference between us because I'm the nice one."
"Is that so?"
"That's what I've been told."
Eomer couldn't help it, he laughed.
Elladan smiled approvingly, "Much better. It's bad for our image to have one of our guests looking so miserable. Who's Eowyn?"
The Rohan prince sat on some hay. Resting his head on his hand, he considered the elf before him carefully. "She's my twin sister."
"And you are worried about her because..." He sat down beside him, watching him.
"I left her back in Edoras with some Istari named Saruman. According to Gandalf, and my own instincts, he isn't one of the good guys. I decided to write to her and ask her to keep an eye on him, see what she can find out about his actions. But Gandalf's got me worried about her being in more danger than she already is. And I can't believe I told you that." He ended with a shocked look. "You don't seem at all surprised by this?"
Elladan shrugged, "I have that affect on people."
"I suppose it gets irritating," he observed.
"Only when I hear something really dull," the elf quipped.
Eomer smiled, "Well, whatever your reason for asking me, thanks. It helped."
"I didn't do much, except escape one long and potentially boring party." He reached out and stroked the horse's nose, "He's a magnificent animal."
"Thank you. We take pride in our horses."
"You have every reason to. I hear they are wonderful for long journeys." Elladan said, moving to sit beside him. Horses had always been something of a passion for him.
He nodded, warming up to his favorite topic eagerly. "We breed them for speed, endurance, and beauty."
***
Days later:
Sitting on her window bench, embroidery forgotten on her lap, Eowyn watched the sky. Worry ate away at her stomach as she thoughts about Eomer. About her people and the great upheavals tearing their lives apart. Food had become anathema to her.
Saruman was not angry to find that her brother was gone. Pensive, yes. But cool and collected.
She was afraid of this reaction more than anything else.
"My Lady Eowyn," a soft voice from the doorway spoke, "His Lordship begs for an audience with you."
"Very well." She rose and put her work aside, "Inform him that I will join him as soon as I make myself more presentable."
"Yes, my lady." She curtsied and left.
Quickly changing into a simple white dress, she sighed. The color which used to symbolize hope was becoming something else in her eyes. A soft coo turned her away from the door. Upon the window sill, a kittiwake waited patiently to be noticed, its leg outstretched. Pulling a live mouse from a trap, she offered it to the bird in exchange for the note.
"My Soster,
How go your court games?
The seasons are quite strange here.
Do be a dear and cast a few lures.
Your Broir."
It took her a moment to decipher his message. When she did, she composed a reply quickly and with a determined nod of her head.
"My Broir,
What do you think? My queen's been caught.
I am glad you a enjoying the odd, it suits you.
It will be my pleasure to do so, think they'll bite?
You Soster."
"Return to sender." It was whispered, trying the message to the bird. It left its perch and soared away into the afternoon sky. She sighed, "Would that I could do the same."
Smoothing her dress down, she quickly went to the study. Knocking, she waited for permission to enter. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Please, Lady Eowyn, there is no need to stand on ceremony with me. I would appreciate it if you would call me Saruman." He rose from the desk and led her to one of the chairs, sitting down across from her.
"As you wish, Saruman." She was proud of her calm voice. Though the more time she spent with him, the more he unnerved her.
He didn't comment on her lack of allowing him familiarity with her name. "Tea?"
"Please." She murmured, pouring him a cup. After taking a few sips in relatively companionable silence, she looked over at him. "You didn't ask me down here just for a cup of tea, what is it that you really wanted from me?"
"What makes you suspect that, Lady Eowyn?" Neither deny nor accepting her words.
"Idle talk and conversation does not suit you." She replied, looking at him over the rim of her cup. "If it was, you would have traveled more."
"You see me as a scholar?"
"You do not?" She challenged him,taking a sip of her tea.
"I have found, Lady Eowyn, that appearances are often deceiving."
Acknowledging nod. "But rarely are my instincts wrong, they say that you are more a man of quiet contemplation than of action."
Holding out a sheaf of papers to her, he indicated that she should look them over. "And you would be quite correct, I did ask you here for more than a cup of tea. I have been going over King Theoden's work and have found several discrepancies in them."
She perused the papers slowly, carefully noting those which he'd signaled out as problematic. After a moment, she turned to look at him. "This would be about the time I started to help him out more. You do not seem to find anything objectionable about my work." Slightly questioning his intentions.
Saruman sat down, nodding. "I found your work to be insightful and factual. There was nothing in it to indicate a tendency to minimize the problem and your solutions were practical. You work is grounded and real, it shows the grasp you have on what is going wrong in Rohan."
Though she tried to quell it, Eowyn could not quite stop the thrill of pride that his words caused her and looked away from him.
"Have I offended you in some way?"
She shook her head. "No, quite the contrary."
"Really?" Saruman was surprised by this admission. "Surely you've heard others praise your work."
"Not since mother died," she whispered.
"I am horrified to hear you say so. How remiss of your relatives." Gently dropping the doubt about her family's feelings for her required a steady hand and careful application and a mountain of patience, something Wormtongue knew a little of but did not develop it sufficiently. Fortunately for his plans, Saruman was a master of waiting.
"They had other things to concern themselves with. They did not need to be spending their time validating me and my actions. I am not someone who needs constant attention and showers of praises to feel of worth, Istari." Sharp.
"Of course not." Soothing, "But surely they could've said something to you once in a while. Though I am sure you are right, you know them best. And I am but a scholar of words, not people."
"Oh, I feel certain that you are more than a scholar, Saruman." Quiet.
But as their eyes meet over the rim of her cup, something unspoken passed between them.
The rest of the afternoon passed in quiet discussion. Oddly unwilling to exert even the slightest of magical force on her, the Istari studied her instead. He paid careful attention to what she said, as well as what she implied.