Chapter: 24, "Interlude"
Word count: 1407
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece Lord of the Rings, this is purely for entertainment.
Beforehand Notes:
Two things, the first being that this story is still Everything Wrong With Your Favorite Elf Prince, only I renamed it The Storm That Struck Middle Earth, just for the reason that it was more relevent than its former title, which by this point had nothing to do with the story because we haven't seen Legolas since Helm's Deep (though, spoiler, you'll see him in this chapter).
Secondly; there's a reason Saruman's death is going to go a little differently than in the movies or maybe even the books, and kudos if you can guess it, if not, don't worry, there'll be a long explanation for it eventually. I wrote this in third person, even though it ends back to Ruth. This is basically an idea of what happens when they travel to Orthanc and confront Saruman, only to find out that Ruth's "dead" (though Gandalf and Pippin will soon learn she's not and that Saruman's a dirty little liar). The timeline's all wonky again, because I'm using book dates on movie events (I'm also trying to incorpertate some book-Denethor beacuse I really hated the movie-Denethor's death), so bear with me.
Isengard: March 5, TC.A. 3019
Two hobbits sat proudly among ruin, laughing and talking with each other. Suddenly the sound of horses overtake their conversation, and they look the way of which the noise came from.
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" One of them cries, thrusting his mug outwards in a salute, as does his companion.
"You young rascals!" A dwarf shouts from his position behind a blonde elf. A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!"
"We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well earned comforts." The younger hobbit slurred, eating a sandwhich (whilst still managing to down his ale). "The salted pork is particularly good."
A dreamy look suddenly crossed the dwarf's face, and he said, "Salted pork…"
"Hobbits!" The wizard sighed.
"We're under orders from Treebeard who's taken over management of Isengard."
Orthanc: March 5, T.A. 3019
The original white wizard paced in his black tower. He stared at the ashes and charred stick that he had never anybody clean.
The earthly brat could never have survived with the amount of burns she received, Saruman bitterly thought. And yet, if it were Galadriel's gift, there is always that chance.
"No," He thought aloud to himself. "Even if the girl managed to survive, they will never search for her if I tell them she burned."
She is part of their happiness.
He quickly gathered ashes from the floor, and threw them hastily onto a table.
Her fate could alter the course of the future, whatever it may be.
He cleaned and composed himself, waiting for the new white wizard and princes and kings to greet him.
They shall fail, and then I will hunt the child down, and kill her at last.
He smiled to himself, and walked out to meet his guests.
"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?" The wizard asked.
Suddenly Rohan's king launched into a grand monologue, "We shall have peace… We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg… are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… then, we shall have peace!"
"Gibbets and crows!" The wizard hummed with disdain and amusement. "Dotard! What do you want Gandalf Grahame? Let me guess… the key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad Dûr itself? Along with the crowns of the seven Kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"
The wizard on the ground- once grey, now white, spoke up, "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's counsel."
There were many things that were true in his words, such as the ability Saruman possessed to save those thousands more's lives, yet deep in the hearts of all men and elf and dwarf and hobbit, they knew he would not.
"So you have come here for information." The white wizard concluded, "I have some for you." He held a glass stone that radiated evil, torture, and misery. They called it a palantir.
"Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the great eye has seen it! Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon." Gandalf rode towards him. "You are all going to die! But you know this don't you Gandalf? You cannot think that this ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows will never be crowned King. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him… those he professes to love! Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom? Or the young girl you allowed on your quest of danger? Do you know, Gandalf the great, what happened to her?" Saruman summoned the ashes he had gathered.
"This!" He bellowed, "This is what happened to her! She is dead! You sent a woman, a child, to her death."
It had not mattered, at that moment, if you knew Ruthelle Windsnap or not. Looks of pain crossed all faces, for none could bear to hear that a woman, a child, had died in such a brutal way, and that this monster had used her death to taunt Gandalf.
However, if you had known the blonde-haired, green-eyed girl who managed to worm her way into the hearts of all she touched, your pain was tripled. You thought of your life without her laughter, and ways of getting on your nerves with the best intentions. How empty and quiet a world without her would be.
"I've heard enough! Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob!" Gimli cried.
Legolas did not hesitate to pull out an arrow, only to be stopped by Gandalf, "No! Come down Saruman and your life will be spared!"
Though Gandalf had every reason and want to kill the bastard himself, he refrained. For the sake of Arda, the possibility of saving lives that deserved to continue living, he would not carry out his own desires.
"Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!" Saruman scorned, casting down the ashes he had gathered. They were carried harmlessly away in the water, though increasing the sorrow of all. Suddenly, Wormtongue (who had not been seen hitherto) appeared behind Saruman.
"Gríma!" King Théoden shouted, "You need not follow him! You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan. Come down!"
Wormtongue looked torn between loyalty and freedom. He almost looked like he would come down, when Saruman laughed, "A man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helms Deep does not belong to you Théoden Horsemaster. You are a lesser son of greater sires!"
For a terrible moment, the only elf in the company thought briefly on how, if his yellow-haired companion had been alive and with them, she would have launched into a soliloquy about the victory belonging to neither side. Or she would simply find a way to cleverly insult the maia.
"Get down, cur!" Saruman hissed, bringing thoughts back into present time.
"Saruman!" Gandalf called once more. "You were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!"
Saruman turned his back to face Gandalf, and spoke, "You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here!"
He was held prisoner no longer, and instead became a victim. Stabbed twice by Wormtongue (who received an arrow in the heart for it), he stumbled and fell from his tower, landing in the water below, pushed down by the spinning wheel. The company of riders watched as the water was plagued a terrible red.
Gandalf, gravely, said, "Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike."
The glass ball that possessed the will to destroy the lands of Middle Earth fell to the water with the wizard.
"The filth of Saruman is washing away." A tall ent mused, "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees."
"Pippin!" Aragorn, son of Arathorn, yelled, watching the hobbit chase for the palantir.
"Bless my bark!" The ent gasped, feeling the disruptive and evil nature of the object.
"Peregrin Took. I'll take that my lad!" Gandalf called. The hobbit began to move, but not hurriedly enough for the wizard's liking, "Quickly now!"
The hobbit sheepishly handed over the palantir, and it was wrapped in the wizard's robes and out of sight before you could say 'evil, murderous, dark object'.
Minas Tirith: March 10, T.A. 3019
"Ruth! Ruth!" Someone called. Ruth shot up like a bullet, woken from her brief but disturbing dream. "To the river! Quickly!"