Chapter 4

"Perfect. Soon the royal family of Rohan will be thrown into ruins. There will be nobody left to defend its honour…and the vast land shall be mine," Saruman laughed to himself. His eerie laugh reechoed in the small thatched hut in which Grima Wormtongue stayed on the pretext of being alone. He was certain that nobody knew of his presence in Rohan till the previous night, when that meddling elf had so deftly staked out their hideaway. As was expected, he has gone running to his wife and that king, alerting them to the plot. Treachery used to be simpler. True, the rest of the people didn't know who really lived in the little hut. There were no large armies to shock and alert them, neither was there fear in the air. It ought to have been the perfect setting for a massacre and an assassination, but no, the groveling of Grima Wormtongue at Éomer's feet had been a blatant sign of the plot. Yet, Grima had been resourceful, he mused. Following the sister of the king had revealed surprising inside information and would help him in his great plan. Yes, nothing like a child to throw them into confusion. A little emotional blackmail would mess with their minds so much that they wouldn't know who they were after he was done.


Haldir's eyes widened at the news, and Éowyn stared at him glassily, as if expecting some violent reaction. She felt her resolve fade and murmured, "Look, perhaps this isn't the best time for drastic revelations, but I thought you'd like to know…" Éowyn said softly.

Haldir shook his head in disbelief. "I'm completely thrilled, but what about the child's safety? With this plot and all…" but before he could complete his sentence, he felt a smile creeping onto his face unwillingly and pinned his wife down, crushing her with a passionate kiss. The sky seemed bluer than he had remembered, and the birds seemed to chirp with gaiety. As the world seemed to spin in a bubble of happiness for the couple, the door flew open. They leapt apart to find Éomer standing at the doorway. His eyes held a grim, determined look.

"I think we ought to exile Grima Wormtongue at once,"

Exile. The word hung in the air like an ominous shadow over them. Was it really in all their best intentions to exile him – wouldn't that force him to carry out his master's dastardly deeds earlier, and more swiftly?

Éomer shook his head. "We must. There is no other way to ensure that he is gone for good, or to guarantee all our safety. We will not rest in peace till he leaves out noble land,"

Haldir exchanged a quick glance with Éowyn hurriedly. "Perhaps we ought to all pass judgment on him – together." Another long still silence hung in the air. They were all thinking the same thing – what if Grima Wormtongue, in a fit of fury, murdered the King there and then? Éomer paced up and down the room mutinous, musing to himself thoughtfully. He looked weary, old and tired wrinkles lined his brow as he frowned. There was turmoil, and there would be no security until Grima Wormtongue was gone…for good.

Éomer straightened up. "Yes. It must be done." Saying so, he strode out, leaving Haldir and Éowyn trailing in his wake.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you, Grima," Éomer said, exceedingly politely.

Grima Wormtongue smiled at Éomer, simpering. "Your Majesty," he said as he knelt on one knee, while shooting a malevolent look at Haldir and Éowyn.

Éowyn gave Éomer an encouraging look, and nudged him discreetly. Éomer immediately assumed a most regal air around himself, and said commandingly, "Grima Wormtongue, once again you have proven yourself to be a traitor and enemy of Rohan. This day henceforth, and forever as long as this royal lineage lasts, you shall be exiled from Rohan,"

Grima Wromtongue narrowed his eyes into little slits, face contorting into painful fury and barely-concealed hatred.

"You will rue this, every single one of you!" he shrieked, his voice strangled and tight. Wrapping his traveling-cloak around himself, he swept out; trying to maintain whatever dignity he had left. A blinding flash of white light shone from the thatched hut, and as the White Wizard leapt onto a horse and rode into the horizon, his minion following close behind, a bolt of lightning flashed in the distance.

"Now, off to Gondor," sighed Éomer.

The trip to Gondor took several days, and Éowyn was gradually weakening from the effects of her pregnancy. They were careful to keep it a well-guarded secret, and under the guise of being three Rangers, they rode silently into Minas Tirith. They walked steadily into the White City of Gondor, where it gleamed with all its splendor and glory.

"King Aragorn of Gondor," Éomer sketched a quick bow, and straightened as Aragorn returned the courtesy. "A meeting between old friends and comrades at arms?"

Éomer's face contorted dangerously. A vein throbbed in his jaw as he glared steadily. "Are you familiar with a certain Grima Wormtongue?" Aragorn nodded darkly.

"Well, he has recently approached us in Rohan, on the pretence of being an innocent countryman,"

Haldir nodded in agreement. "And in reality, there was a bitter plot to kill Éomer and take over Rohan,"

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "I understand what you are going with this logic. You fear that Gondor will be under siege –"

"No, not under siege, but a silent, unforeseen attack," Éowyn added slowly.

"Then, my friends, we will wait. And we shall act then,"

A/N: Hi there! Yes! New chapter up finally. Have been pretty busy recently, therefore could not really find the time to type. Will update again soon, hopefully. BTW, I re-read y previous chapter, I'M SORRY!!!! There are so many typos - I almost died!! Sigh! Okay then. You know the drill. Review please? blinks