A/N: Uh, Jade. 14 days does NOT constitute a week, in fact that is two. Duh! Sorry for the delay guys.

Chapter 2

Saruman watched in perverse delight as the admittedly pleasing form of The Mirkwood Prince descended the stairs. This ploy had potential that he could formally only dream of.

"We must bring down the man." That was what had first alerted the evil Maia to the situation. It was Grima's firm belief that the hobbits that struggled to Mordor could be easily stopped; it was the remainder of the Fellowship that proved a problem, as demonstrated at the Deep. The only reason they remained a problem was their leadership and growing support. Great leadership should never be underestimated. The leader was Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. If he fell, the Fellowship would fall, so would hope. So would Middle Earth. Inevitably Saruman turned to the ever- growing power of the Palantir.

There. There was the weakness they had been desperately searching for. It had been right in front of them all this time.

Using his strengthening powers Saruman transported his bait to the Golden Forest, Lothlorien. There was no way he could predict the chain of events this set in motion.

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Grima still hadn't got used to his new guise, for someone so dark and entirely ugly to have such a light and beautiful form was alien. Although he spoke and appeared as Legolas did, he moved and thought as Grima Wormtongue, inheriting no elven attributes. He had to be careful or this may give him away.

Currently Grima found himself merely mimicking the other elves around, trying to emulate their light footfalls and agile movement. Although it pained him to admit it, the accursed man he targeted had been right in one respect, the looks he received from fellow elves were all but innocent, Grima squirmed, unused to such scrutiny. Then he caught himself. That was not how the Prince would have reacted. This pretence threatened to be impossible to maintain.

Suddenly he heard a familiar voice, unable to place it he edged closer.

It was the voice he had just greeted a stray elf with. His own voice, or rather that of the Prince. He was bidding someone farewell. His lover mayhap?

"The Lady wishes to speak with you Aragorn, you procrastinate."

"Only for you, my sweet."

"Not even I am worth risking her wrath. Go."

"I shall return soon my love."

With that and a swift kiss, the man disappeared into the foliage.

~Sickening.~ Grima thought, before noticing the forlorn expression on the Prince's face.

~Oh now they hate to be apart.~ This observation only made Grima's plan that bit more sweet.

Wait.

Did he have a plan?

It was only at this late stage that Grima realised he had absolutely no idea of what to do next. The situation had so much power, but without direction or ambition, even the world's greatest power was useless.

Grima felt a strange sense of urgency, a feeling that whatever he did, he would have to do it now. So impulsively, no less decided, but a lot more resolved, Grima bounded off following the dark figure of the man into the trees.

Tracking him with infinitely less grace and discretion than his counterpart, it was not long before Grima had lost sight of his target and was hopelessly lost. He contemplated relaying this back to his master. He continued onwards until he encountered something that made him stop in his tracks.

Directly ahead, a tall, lithe elf sat upon the leaves, his head buried in his hands, face lost in his hair. Yet again, there was something strangely familiar. Grima stepped back as he heard raised voices.

"Rumil, Rumil! Come on Rumil, I know you're there. This is silly!"

The elf, Rumil, hurriedly scampered across the clearing, keen not to be found. He was sobbing loudly, Grima realised he'd been crying. Eventually the voices gave up and the forest was once again silent.

With a sinister smile, Grima noted the importance of this elf, and made a noticeable entrance into the clearing.

Immediately Rumil looked up, and seeing it was Legolas, dried his eyes and straightened his tunic. "Legolas! I did not see you there, I apologise."

Grima grudgingly adopted Legolas' soft, kind and eloquent speech. "Rumil, you have no need to apologise, I intrude, but tell me, why do you weep so?"

"I cannot tell you," came the small but certain reply.

"Yes, you can Rumil, surely I have told you that."

"I do not recall - "

Grima winced and continued quickly, "Well, it is true my friend. Now, speak."

"Well, you see, my heart longs for another."

The evil one feigned surprise with such ineptitude that it was a marvel Rumil did not notice. "I see, who is it that deserves such love?"

"It is hard to explain."

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"Haldir!" Aragorn shouted, having recognised the swiftly moving figure. "Have you seen Legolas?"

The elf replied with a chuckle. "I was about to ask you if you yourself had seen Rumil, I have not spied him for some time."

Aragorn frowned, biting at his bottom lip.

"Oh Aragorn, do not fret so, I have indeed seen your love. He followed you not long after you left to see the lady."

Now more confused than ever, Aragorn walked slowly back the way he came.

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Grima listened with an almost tangible lack of interest. Rumil had been speaking at some length of the greatest love he had ever known, and Wormtongue was bored to tears. Moreover, the monologue was a near picture perfect description of Legolas, evidently the object of this simpering elf's desire. Something had to happen soon else Grima would free his companion of the meagre weapons he carried and put them to good use. He carefully drew his attention back to the snivelling figure looking for a possible opening. He found it as Rumil began to draw up his conclusions.

". . . .alas, he will never love me, he only has eyes for another, his lover." He glanced sideways. "He sees me only as a fool. I am nothing."

"Nonsense Rumil, you are so much more than nothing, I do not see you as fool. It is true I have dallied with Aragorn long enough, it is time I obeyed my heart!"

Rumil, completely absorbed, agreed before registering his shock and horror. "How did you know?" He asked, mouth agape.

The figure of Legolas lent forward, teasing and tempting. "Come now, credit me with some intelligence."

Rumil could only form inarticulate noises, devoid of function or meaning. Grima doubted he was even capable of movement.

Hearing a disturbance in the bushes behind, Wormtongue took his chance, lunging forward and pressing his lips hard against the others.

Back up in Orthanc, Saruman looked on pleased, nodding in grim satisfaction.

A/N: Things look grim for our heroes. I will try and get a new chapter up ASAP. Possibly Sunday.