Meaning: In Shadows Lies Hope
Pairing: n/a
Type: AU; X-over; action/adventure; fantasy
Rating: PG
Note: Thank you to those of you who reviewed, you're all lovely. Even the Fabulous Anonymous 'S'. I can only assume you were talking about my warnings, since you neglected to specify. And if you really were talking about that; you were just a bit late for the bitching, dear - my warning message has been up since I started this fic. Anyway. This is going up in honor of Girl-chama-san, who has always encouraged me and provided much constructive criticism when I felt my stories were lacking in something. Also, there is no Makoto or the hobbits in this (except in mention), as follows in the book. But, they get their own special chapters.
Disclaimer: Anything owned by me will be duly noted. Until such a time, you may safely assume that everything belongs to someone else.
Warnings: Spoilers for The Two Towers. Usagi is NOT betrayed by any senshi. She does NOT realize "how the senshi really are". She does NOT dump Mamoru, and Mamoru does NOT dump her. She does NOT gain new powers. She does NOT go to another dimension. She does NOT run off into the Wild Blue Yonder with the Outer senshi. Come to think of it, she's not even in this. If you have a problem with this, then leave; otherwise your prerogative is furthermore inane.
The King of the Golden Hall
Gandalf wrapped himself in his grey cloak again and led the way from the high shelf. They descended quickly and made their way through the forest, down the bank of the Entwash. They spoke no more until they stood upon the grass beyond the eaves of Fangorn. Legolas looked behind him into the dim forest a last time, as though he might see the hobbits, or an Ent, or Makoto, but looked ahead again. There was no sign of their horses.
"They have not returned," he said. "The walk will be long and tiring."
"We will not walk," said Gandalf, "Time presses."
Then he lifted his head and gave a long whistle. So clear and piercing was the sound that the others were surprised to hear such a note come from old, bearded lips. Three times he whistled; then it seemed that from the plains they heard the whinny of a horse borne upon the eastern wind. They waited, wondering, and before long there came the sound of hoofs on the ground.
"There is more than one horse coming," said Aragorn.
"Certainly," said Gandalf, "We together are too heavy for one."
"There are three," said Legolas, looking across the plain, "There is Hasufel, and there is my friend Arod beside him! But there is another that runs ahead; a great horse. I have not seen the like of him before."
"Nor will you again," Gandalf said, nodding. "That is Shadowfax. He is the chief of the Mearas, the lords of horses. Not even Théoden, king of Rohan, has ever looked on better. He has come for me, the horse of the White Rider, and we are going to battle together."
Even as the old wizard spoke, the horses came running up the slope towards them. As soon as Shadowfax saw Gandalf he checked his pace, and whinnied loudly, then trotted forward and nuzzled his nose against the old man's neck. Soon after the other horses came up and stood by, as if awaiting orders.
Gandalf caressed Shadowfax and addressed the horses gravely, "We go at once to Meduseld, the hall of your master, Theoden. We beg that you use all the speed that you can." Then he mounted the great horse.
"Now I understand a part of last night's riddle," said Legolas as he sprang onto Arod's back. "Whether they fled in fear at first or not, our horses met Shadowfax last night. They greeted him with joy. Did you know he was near, Gandalf?"
"Yes, I knew, for I bid him to make haste. Yesterday he was far to the south of this land. Now he will steer for us the straightest path to the hall of Théoden under the slopes of the White Mountains. The ground may be firmer in the Eastemnet, but Shadowfax knows the way through every fen and hollow."
For many hours they rode through the riverlands. They came upon many hidden pools and acres of sedge above treacherous bogs, but Shadowfax found the way and he other horses followed in his swath. Slowly the sun sank down from the sky in the west. Low upon the edge of sight shoulders of mountains glinted red on either side. They rode on through sunset, and slow dusk, and gathering night. When at last they halted even Aragorn was stiff and weary. Gandalf allowed them only a few hours rest, and Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli slept. But the old wizard stood, leaning on his staff, gazing east and west into the darkness. There was no sign of any living thing.
The night was barred with long clouds when they arose again. Under the cold moon they went on, as swiftly as by the light of day. Hours passed and still they rode on, Gandalf and Gimli on Shadowfax leading the way. Gimli nodded and would have fallen from his seat had not the old wizard held tight and shaken him. Arod and Hasufel, weary but proud, followed their tireless leader. Aragorn was silent sitting atop Hasufel, his eyes looking blindly at the road ahead, but his mind whirled with the events of the day.
"Is there something amiss, Aragorn?" Legolas asked, quietly as the Elves may.
"Your elf-eyes are perceptive even in the dark of night," the Ranger said, a tired smile in his voice, "There are things that have been said, and that have not been said, since Gandalf came back to us, that plague my mind. I would ask of him but for fear that we might be slowed by talk. I feel he knows more about Makoto than he has said, and I would like to hear the whole of his story of escape from the fall."
"That is a tall order to ask of a wizard who speaks in riddles," Legolas said, his voice gently teasing. "We will hear his tale in time, when there is time for it."
The miles went by. The moon sank into the cloudy West. A bitter chill came into the air. In the East the dark slowly turned to the cold grey of pre-dawn. Red shafts of light leapt above the Emyn Muil far to their left. Dawn came clear and bright; a wind swept across their path. Suddenly Shadowfax stopped and neighed, and Gandalf pointed ahead.
"Look!" he cried. They lifted their tired eyes. Before them stood the mountains of the South. Grass-lands rolled the hills clustered at the feet of the mountains, and flowed into many valleys still untouched by the light of dawn. Immediately before them the widest of these valleys opened like a long gulf among the hills. Far inward they saw a mountain mass with one tall peak. About its feet there flowed the stream that issued from the dale; upon its brow they caught a glint in the rising sun, a glimmer of gold.
"Speak, Legolas!" said Gandalf. "Tell us what you see."
Legolas gazed ahead, shading his eyes from the newly-risen sun, "I see a stream that comes down from the snows," he said. "It comes from the shadow of the vale, and a green hill rises to the east. A dike and a wall and a thorny fence encircle it. There are many roofs of houses that rise from within, and in the middle, set higher than the houses, there stands a great hall of Men. It seems to my eyes that it is thatched with gold, and the light of it shines far over the lands. Golden, too, I believe, are the posts of its doors. There are men in armor who stand there, but all other inhabitants of the courts are yet asleep."
"Edoras are those courts called, and Meduseld is the golden hall," said Gandalf. "There Théoden, son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan lives. We come with the rising of the day, and the way lies clearly before us, but we must ride with more caution now. War is abroad and the Rohirrim, the Horse-lords, do not sleep. Draw no weapon and speak no haughty word, until we are before Théoden's seat."
The morning was clear and bright and the birds were singing as the travelers came to the stream. It ran down swiftly into the plain, flowing away east to feed the Entwash far off in its reed-choked beds. The land was green: along the grassy borders of the stream grew many willow trees, which in this southern land were already feeling the coming of spring. Over the stream there was a ford, trampled from the constant passage of horses. This the travelers passed over and came upon a wide track leading to the uplands. At the foot of the hill, the road ran under the shadow of many high, green hills. Upon their western sides the grass was white as if dusted with light snow, and small flowers grew there like countless stars amid the turf.
"Look!" said Gandalf. "How fare are the bright eyes in the grass. They are called Simbelmynë, Evermind, in this land of Men, for they blossom in all seasons of the year and grow where dead men rest. We have come to the great harrows where the sires of Théoden sleep."
"Seven mounds to the left, and nine mounds to the right," said Aragorn. "Then it has been many long lives of men since the golden hall was built."
"Five hundred autumns have come and gone in my home in Mirkwood since then," said Legolas, "and yet it seems only a little while to us."
"But to the Riders of the Mark it seems so long ago, that the raising of this hall is but a memory in song and the years before are lost to the mists of time," said Aragorn, "And now they call this land their home, their own, and their language has been sundered from their northern kin. It is slow tongue, likely unknown to any but themselves." He began to chant in the language of Rohan, unknown to the Elf and Dwarf. Yet they listened, for there was strong music in it.
"It is like the land itself, rich and rolling in parts, and hard as the mountains in others. I cannot guess what it means," said Legolas, "save that it is filled with the sadness of Mortal Men."
"In the Common Speech," said Aragorn, "as clear as I can make it, it runs thus:
Where now the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harp string, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow:
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
So spoke a poet, now forgotten, long ago in Rohan, recalling how tall and fair was Eorl the Young, who rode down out of the North. There were wings on the feet of his steed, Felaróf, father of horses. So men still sing in the evening."
As Aragorn finished his speech, the travelers passed the silent mounds, following the path up the green shoulders of the hills, until at last they came to the wide wind-swept walls and gates of Edoras. At the gates sat many men in bright mail, and they leapt to their feet at once and barred the way with spears.
"Stay, strangers unknown!" they cried in the tongue of the Riddermark, and demanded to know the names and errand of the travelers. They looked upon the Elf and the Dwarf with wonder, but little friendliness, and they looked darkly on Gandalf.
"Doubtless Makoto would not approve of their manners, as she did not Éothain's," Aragorn murmured to Legolas.
"Well I do understand your speech," the wizard said in the language of Rohan; "yet few strangers do so. Why do you not speak the Common Tongue, as is custom in the West, if you wish to be answered?"
"King Théoden has ordered that none should enter his gates save those who know our tongue and are our friends. None are welcome here in times of war but our own folk, and those from Mundburg in Gondor. Who are you that come over the plain, riding horses like our own? Long have we kept guard and watched you from afar, and never have we seen riders so strange, nor a horse more proud than he that bears you. He is one of the Mearas, unless our eyes are cheated by some spell. Say, are you not a wizard, some spy from Saruman, or phantoms of his craft? Speak swiftly!"
"We are no phantoms," said Aragorn, "nor do your eyes cheat you. For these are your own horses that we ride, lent to us by Éomer, Third Marshal of the Mark, not two days ago. We are bringing them back as we promised. Has he not returned and given warning of our coming?"
A troubled look came to the guards eyes. "Of Éomer I can say nothing," he said, "If what you tell me is true than doubtless Théoden will have heard of it. Maybe your coming was not wholly unlooked for. Only two nights ago Wormtongue came and said that by the will of Théoden no stranger should pass these gates."
"Wormtongue?" Gandalf asked, looking sharply at the guard, "Say no more. My errand is not to Wormtongue, but to the Lord of the Mark himself, and I am in haste. Will you not go or send to say that we are come?"
"Yes, I will go," the guard answered slowly, "But what names shall I report? And what shall I say of you?"
"I am Gandalf; I have returned and I too bring back a horse. This is Shadowfax the Great, whom no other hand can tame. Here beside me is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Here are Legolas the Elf and Gimli the Dwarf. Go now and say to your master that we are here and we would speak with him if he will let us into his hall."
"Strange names you give!" said the guard, "Wait here a while and I will bring you what answer seems good to him. Do not hope too much! These are dark times." He went swiftly away, leaving them in the watchful keeping of his comrades. Some time later he returned. "Théoden gives you leave to enter, but any weapon that you bear you must leave at the threshold. The doorwardens will keep them. Then you will follow me."
The dark gates were swung open. The travelers entered, walking in file behind their guide. They walked upon a broad path paved with hewn stones, winding upwards, sometimes climbing in short flights of steps. Legolas thought they were not unlike the steps they had climbed in Fangorn Forest, save that they were Man made. This caused him to remember Makoto's message suddenly: what had her last words meant? She spoke as though she possessed the gift of foresight, as did the Lord Elrond. He passed the many houses made of stone almost unseeing, lost in his thoughts, and came out of them only when they reached the crown of the hill. There stood a high platform; a high stair went up the green terrace to the platform, and on either side of the top step were stone chairs. There sat other guards, with drawn swords across their laps. Their golden hair was braided; the sun was blazoned on their green shields, and when they rose they seemed taller than mortal men.
"There are the doors before you," said their guide, "I must return to my duty at the gate. Farewell! And may the Lord of the Mark be gracious with you." He turned and went swiftly back down the road.
"Isn't he a very joyful person," Gimli said, and gave a snort.
They climbed the stairs under the watchful eyes of the tall guards. Silently they stood above and said nothing until Gandalf stepped out upon the terrace. Then they spoke a courteous greeting in their own tongue. Then one of the guards stepped forward and spoke in the Common Tongue.
"Hail, comers from afar," he said, "I am the Doorwarden of Théoden, Háma. Here you must give up your weapons before you enter." Legolas gave him his silver-hafted knives, which he handed over with a little flourish, his bow, and his quiver. Following him, Gimli gave to one of the other guards his many axes; numbering six in all. Aragorn too gave over his weapons, his hunting knife, his sword, the Elven dagger – and took note of the surprise that entered the face of the guard he handed them to. Gandalf gave his sword Glamdring.
"Now then. If all is as you wish, let us go and speak with your master," said Gimli.
The guard stopped them, "Your staff. That too must be left at the doors."
"Prudence is one thing, but discourtesy is another," Gandalf said, "The Elfling was right when she mentioned that the Rohirrim have grown haughty. I am old. If I may not lean on my stick, then I shall sit out here until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak with me."
Aragorn laughed, even as Legolas offered Gandalf his arm to lean upon, "Would you part an old man from his support? Come, will you not let us enter?"
"The staff in the hand of a wizard may be more than just a prop for walking," said Háma, "Yet I believe you are friends who have no evil purpose. You may go in."
The guards lifted the great bars on the doors and swung them slowly inwards. The hall was long and wide and filled with shadows and half-lights, and mighty pillars held up its lofty roof. Here and there bright sunbeams fell in glimmering shafts from the eastern windows, high under the deep eaves. Through a louver in the roof and the sky showed pale and blue. As their eyes adjusted, the four saw that the floor was paved with stones of many colors; branching runes and strange devices intertwined beneath their feet. They saw too that the pillars were richly carved, gleaming with gold. Many woven cloths hung upon the walls and over their wide spaces marched figures of legend.
The four companions went forward, past the wood-fire burning upon the long hearth in the middle of the hall. They halted before the dias with three steps resting at the far end of the house and facing northwards towards the doors. In the middle of the dias was a great gilded chair, and upon it sat a man so bent with age that he seemed almost a dwarf; but his eyes still burned with a bright light, glinting as he gazed upon the strangers. Behind his chair stood a woman dressed in white. At his feet sat a wizened figure of a man with a pale wise face and heavy lidded eyes.
There was silence. The old man did not move in his chair. At length Gandalf spoke, "Hail, Théoden son of Thengel!"
"I greet you," said the old man, "and maybe you look for welcome here. Yet why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow? Tell me that."
"A just question, lord," said the pale man sitting upon the steps of the dias. "It is not yet five days since the news came that your son Th odred was slain upon the West Marshes: your right hand, Second Marshal of the Mark. In Éomer there is little trust. Even now we learn that the Dark Lord is stirring in the East. Such is the hour in which this wanderer chooses to return. Láthspell I name you, Illnews; and ill news is an ill guest they say."
"You are held wise, Wormtongue, and doubtless you are a great support to your master," said Gandalf in a soft voice, "yet in two ways may a man come with evil tidings. He may be a worker of evil; or he may be such as leaves well alone and comes to bring aid only in time of need."
"That is so," said Wormtongue; "but there is another kind: pickers of bones, meddlers in other men's sorrows, carrion-fowl who grow fat on war. What aid have you ever brought, Stormcrow? It was aid you sought from us the last time you were here. I guess it is likely to tun out the same once more: you will seek aid rather than render it. Do you bring men, horses, swords, spears? That I would call aid; that it our present need. But who are these three ragged wanderers in grey who follow at your tail? And you yourself the most beggar-like of the four!"
"The courtesy of your hall has lessened somewhat of late, Théoden son of Thengel," said Gandalf. "Has not the messenger reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received three such guests. They are dressed in grey for the Elves have clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of many perils to your hall."
"Then it is true that you are in league with the Golden Wood?" asked Wormtongue, "It is not to be wondered at: webs of deceit are ever woven in the Dwimordene."
Gimli strode a pace forward, his face set harshly, ready to grant Wormtongue the same tongue-lashing he had given Éomer. But he felt the hand of Gandalf clutch him by the shoulder, and he halted, stiff as stone.
"Wise men speak only of what they know," said Gandalf and suddenly he changed. Casting his tattered cloak aside, he stood up and no longer leaned on his staff; and he spoke in a clear cold tone. "Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm." He raised his staff. There was a roll of thunder. The sunlight was blocked from the windows; the whole hall was suddenly as dark as night and only Gandalf could be seen, standing white and tall.
In the gloom they heard Wormtongue's voice hiss: "Did I not say, lord, to forbid his staff? That fool Háma has betrayed us!"
There was a flash, then all was silent, and Wormtongue sprawled on his face. Gimli stepped upon his back as he began to sit up, saying lowly, "I would stay still if I were you."
"Théoden son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows and trusted to twisted tales. I bid you come out and look abroad."
Slowly Théoden left his chair and a faint light grew in the hall again. The woman hastened to the king's side, taking his arm, and with faltering steps the old man came down from the dias and paced softly across the hall. They came to the doors and Gandalf knocked. "Open! The Lord of the Mark comes forth!" The doors rolled back and a keen air came whistling in. A wind was blowing on the hill. "Send your guards to the stairs' foot. And you, lady, leave him with me a while. I will take care of him," said Gandalf.
"Go, Éowyn sister-daughter," said the old king. "The time for fear has passed."
The woman turned and went slowly into the house. As she passed the doors she turned and looked back. Very fair was her face and her long hair was like a river of gold. Slender and tall she was, but strong she seemed, a daughter of kings. Thus Aragorn beheld owyn, lady of Rohan, for the first time in the full light of day. And suddenly she was aware of him: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, hiding a power that she yet felt. For a moment she stood, still as stone, then turned swiftly and was gone.
"Now lord, look upon your land. Breathe the free air again!"
"It is not so dark here," said Théoden.
"No. Nor does age lie upon you so heavily on you as some would have you think."
Slowly Théoden drew himself up, as a man that is stiff from bending too long over some dull toil. Now tall and straight he stood, and his eyes were blue as he looked into the opening sky. "Dark have my dreams been of late," he said. "What is to be done?"
"Much," said Gandalf, "But first send for Éomer. Do I not guess rightly that you keep him prisoner, by the counsel of Gríma?"
"It is true," said Théoden. "He rebelled against my commands and threatened death to Gríma in my hall. But I will do as you ask. Send Hama to me. Since he has proven untrustworthy as a doorward, let him become an errand runner." But though his voice was grim, he smiled and Gandalf and as he did so many lines of care were smoothed away and did not come back.
Gandalf led Théoden to a stone seat, then sat himself before the king on the topmost stair. Quickly now Gandalf spoke. His voice was low and secret, and none save the king heard what he said. But as he spoke the light shone brighter in Théoden's eye, and at last he rose from his seat to his full height.
"Alas that these days should be mine, and should come in my old age instead of the peace I have earned. Alas for Boromir! The young die and the old linger, withering," he said, and clutched his knees in his wrinkled hands.
"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword-hilt."
Théoden rose and his hand went to his side, but no sword hung from his belt. "Where has Gríma stowed it?" he muttered under his breath.
"Take this, dear lord!" said a clear voice. "It was ever at your service." Éomer was there. No helm was on his head and he wore no mail, but in his hand he held a drawn sword; and he knelt as he offered the hilt to his master.
For a moment in silence Théoden stood looking down at Éomer as he still knelt before him. Neither moved. Then slowly he stretched forth his hand. As his fingers took the hilt, it seemed to the watchers that firmness and strength returned to his thin arm. Suddenly he lifted the blade and swung it shimmering in the air. His voice rang clear as he called a call to arms in the tongue of Rohan.
"Arise now, arise, Riders of Théoden!
Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward.
Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!
Forth Eorlingas!"
"Take back your sword, Éomer sister-son," said the king. "Go, Háma, and seek my own sword. Gríma has it in his keeping. Bring him to me also."
"Westu Théoden hál!" cried Éomer. "It is a joy to us to see you return into your own. Never again shall it be said, Gandalf, that you come only with grief." He took back his sword and stood at attention.
Théoden turned to the old wizard. "Now Gandalf, you said you had counsel to give, if I would hear it. What is your counsel?"
"You have already taken it," answered Gandalf. "To put your trust in Éomer, rather than a man of a crooked mind. To cast aside regret and fear. To do the deed at hand. Every man that can ride should be sent west at once: we must first destroy the threat of Saruman, while we have time. If we fail, we fall. If we succeed, then we will face the next task. Meanwhile your people that are left – your women and children and old – should fly to the refuges you have in the mountains. Delay not; it is their lives that are at stake."
"This counsel seems good to me now," said Théoden. "Let all my people get ready! But you my guests – truly you have said, Gandalf, that the courtesy of my hall is lessened."
"I had fair warning from the Elfling of the Forest. I had hoped it was not so."
"Makoto of Fangorn?" said Théoden, and a smile of nostalgia came to his face. "She has not come to Edoras in many a long year; I was yet young when I last looked on her. Does she still wander the Forest?"
"She wanders as she may," said Gandalf. "I think that you shall see her soon, though perhaps not here in your hall."
"But you are here in my hall. You have ridden through the night, and the morning wears away. You have had neither sleep nor food. A guest-house shall be made ready: there you shall sleep, when you have eaten."
"Nay, lord," said Aragorn. "There is no rest yet for the weary. The men of Rohan must ride forth and we will ride with them, axe, sword, and bow. We did not bring them to rest against your wall, Lord of the Mark!"
"Now indeed there is hope of victory!" said Éomer.
"Hope, yes," said Gandalf. "But Isengard is strong. And other perils draw ever nearer. Do not delay, Théoden, when we are gone. Lead your people swiftly to the Hold of Dunharrow in the hills."
"Nay, Gandalf!" said the king. "I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of the battle if it must be. Thus I shall sleep better."
"Then even the defeat of Rohan will be glorious in song," said Aragorn. "But your people must not be both unarmed and shepherd less," said Gandalf. "Who shall guide them and govern them in your place?"
"I shall give thought to that ere I go," said Théoden, "Here comes my counselor."
At that moment Háma came again from the hall. Behind him cringing between two other men, came Gríma the Wormtongue. His face was very white. His eyes blinked in the sunlight. Háma knelt and presented to Théoden a long sword in a scabbard clasped with gold and set with green gems.
"Here, lord, is Herugrim," he said. "It was found in his chest. Loth was he to give up the keys. Many other things are there which men have missed."
"You lie," said Wormtongue. "And this sword your master himself gave into my keeping."
"And now he required it of you again," said Théoden. "Does that displease you?"
"Assuredly not, my lord," Wormtongue said, his voice silky smooth, "I care for you as best I may. But do not weary yourself or tax too heavily your strength. Let others deal with these irksome guests. Your meat is about to be set on the board. Will you not go to it?"
"I will," said the king, "but let food be set on the board for my guests beside me. The host rides today. Send the heralds forth to summon all who dwell near! All men and lads able to bear arms who have horses, let them be ready in the saddle at the gate ere the second hour from noon! Not one shall be left, not even Gríma. Gríma rides too. Go! You still have time to clean the rust from your sword."
"Mercy, lord!" cried Wormtongue, groveling on the ground. "Send me not from your side! I at least will stand by you when all others have gone. Do not send your faithful Gríma away!"
"I do not send you from my side," said Théoden. "I too ride to war with my men. I bid you come with me and prove your faith."
Wormtongue looked from face to face. In his eyes was the haunted look of a beast seeking a gap in a ring of enemies. He licked his lips with a long pale tongue. "I see that I come too late. Such resolve one would expect from a lord of the House of Eorl, but those who truly love him would spare his failing years. I see others have already persuaded him, whom the death of my lord might grieve less. Hear me at least in this, my lord! One who knows your mind and obeys your commands should be left in Edoras. Let your counselor Gríma keep all things till your return – and I pray that we may see it."
Gimli laughed. "And if that plea does not excuse you from war, most noble Wormtongue," he said, "what office of less honour would you accept? To carry a sack of meal up a mountain if one would trust you with it?"
"Nay, Gimli, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue," said Gandalf, turning his piercing gaze upon him. "He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays with peril and wins a throw. Down snake!" he said in a terrible voice, "Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead were you to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire?"
Éomer grasped his sword, "Too long have you watched my sister. Too long have you haunted her footsteps." He stepped forward, but Gandalf stayed him with his hand.
"Éowyn is safe now," he said, "but you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your true master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt at forgetting his bargains. I should advise you go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service."
"You lie," said Wormtongue.
"That word falls too easily from your lips," said the wizard. "I do not lie. See, Théoden, here is a snake! To slay it would be just. But it was once a man and did you service in its fashion. Give him a horse and let him go at once, wherever he chooses. By his choice shall you judge him."
"Do you hear this, Wormtongue," Théoden asked. "This is your choice: to ride with me to war, or to go now wither you will. But then, if we ever meet again, I will not be merciful."
Slowly Wormtongue rose. He looked at them with half-closed eyes. Last of all he scanned Théoden's face, and opened his mouth as if to speak. Then suddenly he drew himself up, and his hands worked and his eyes glittered. Such malice was in them that the men stepped back from him. He bared his teeth; and then with a hissing breath he spat before the king's feet, and darting to one side, he fled down the stair.
"After him!" said Théoden. "See that he does not harm to any, but do not hurt or hinder him. Give him a horse if he wishes it."
"And if any will bear him," said Éomer under his breath.
Legolas and Aragorn heard him, and could not help but smile. One of the guards ran down the stair. The other went to the well at the foot of the terrace and with his helm drew water. With it he washed clean the steps that Wormtongue had defiled.
"Now, my friends, come!" said Théoden. "Come and take such refreshment as haste allows."
"Haste indeed, for we've a reunion of Elf and Elfling that must soon happen," the Dwarf said, not too softly.
Legolas decided he had not heard Gimli, but rather the wind.
OTHER NOTES
And isn't that a very dramatic place to end this chapter? And look! More deviation from the actual book! Yay! In this case, I'm going to pause now, because we've left Mako and the hobbits for too long, and tell the war of the Ents in the next chapter as a chapter, not as Merry and Pippin's story. This is mostly because I want to have more of Makoto in the fanfiction that is supposed to be about her.