AN - This scene is actually only a mention in the book when Gandalf is speaking at the Council of Elrond: In Rohan I found evil already at work: the lies of Saruman; and the king of the land would not listen to my warnings. It is slightly expanded upon in the 1981 BBC radio play which I can recommend a listen to; Ian Holm and Bill Nighy voice Frodo and Sam respectively and Gollum is tortured by something that sounds like a giant stapler. :D
"I am not asking for much," Ailith growled, her eyes boring into Gríma's.
"Nay, not much at all! A building, access to the King's herb stores, access to the Royal Archives, storage, equipment. Shall I have the locksmith make a complete set of keys for you as well?" the counsellor replied.
"No. I would have thought you would have been pleased to put my healing skills to good use; there is little else I can do as you have forbidden me to practice with the Riders."
"No, my lord," Gríma stressed.
"Forgive me, I wasn't aware that you have been given a title."
There was a quiet sniggering from some corner of Meduseld occupied by the Riders even as Gríma's men bristled. Such was the mood in the Golden Hall; the Riders, loyal to King and country, and Gríma's men, with their unknown agenda, facing each other like armies on a battlefield.
"Give the girl what she desires," Théoden rumbled. "I tire of your sparring. Next time you two wish to fight, please do it when I am indisposed."
"As you wish, my lord," Gríma fawned in his sickening manner.
"Thank you, my lord," Ailith said, curtseying.
The great door of the Hall flew open and Ailith hurried out of the path to the throne. Strangely, Háma did not announce the visitor. She peered at the figure.
He was tall, very tall, but slightly stooped and swaddled entirely in a grey, mud-stained cloak, a large and battered blue hat pulled low over his brow. A thick white beard tumbled from his chin to his belt and, coupled with the hat, hid his face from the court. He leant on a stick almost as tall as he and walked up the hall with a slight limp. No, it wasn't a stick, Ailith realised, but a staff.
His head raised and Ailith saw a pair of dark but intelligent eyes glimmering under bushy eyebrows.
"Hail, Théoden King!" he called and Ailith shivered at his voice. It was a powerful voice and trembled with authority. "I bear ill news for the Mark."
Théoden's eyes flicked upwards at the stranger. "Ill news? You always bear ill news when you come storming to my halls."
"And none graver than the tidings I bring today. Saruman has fallen under the influence of the Dark Lord and it will not be long before the shadow of Orthanc spreads across your land."
"Saruman has always been a friend to you, my lord," Gríma quickly hissed in the King's ear. "He is your ally, not this wandering Elf-friend!"
"The White Wizard's counsel has always been just and true. Why should I forsake him over you, you who wanders hither and thither planting your doubts in the minds of lesser Men," the King said.
"If you do not heed my warnings then Rohan shall be crushed beneath the mighty force mustering in the heart of Isenguard! Will you stand against him?" the stranger implored.
There was silence in the Hall. Ailith had heard of the Wizard Saruman. He was reputed to have great wisdom, greater than any scholar, and there were many stories of his deeds throughout the years. If the stranger told the truth then Rohan and many other lands would be in peril.
Théoden shifted in his throne.
"Begone! Take your warmongering somewhere else, Gandalf Stormcrow!" he snarled.
"If you will not listen to me then at least loan me a steed so that I can warn someone else, someone who will listen!" the stranger said.
"Fine! Choose a horse of your liking and go!" Théoden said, waving a hand. The visitor inclined his head slightly and then swept from the Hall. Gríma leant down to the King's ear again, his eyes sparkling with malevolence as his lips twisted with more lies.
Where had she heard the name Gandalf? Ailith was certain that she had. With a start, she remembered and hurried after the stranger.
"My lord? My lord!" she called, nimbly jumping down the steps of Meduseld several at a time. Gandalf turned, his gaze hostile. "Please my lord, the King is not himself! You can't just leave us!" she pleaded.
"Unfortunately, I am needed in other places for matters of a greater importance than the failing mind of Théoden," he told her gently.
"What could possibly be more important than the health of a King and the safety of a country?" she exclaimed.
"Many things. Just because a man was born to a high family does not make him any more important than the lowliest man on the street. The weak may achieve great deeds as easily as the strong."
With that, he turned and tried to walk away but she quickly said "My lord, are you called Gandalf?"
He paused again.
"It is one of the names I am known by," he said. "Why do you ask?"
"Gandalf brought thirteen dwarves and a half-ling to the house of Beorn and convinced him to host them when he would turn others away! I was told that Gandalf will always help those in need," she said. The old man looked at her through narrow eyes.
"Now how does a noble-born girl at the court of Edoras know that particular story?" he asked suspiciously.
"I know a Beorning. He told me the tale," she said. "It is one of my favourites."
"Hmph. That is only a portion of the story; the whole tale is much longer," he said grumpily. "I am not some magical sprite who runs around helping every fair maiden and foolish knight who requires my assistance! I am needed elsewhere but I shall try to return to aid Rohan soon. If I am ever granted some peace then I may recount some of my adventures to you properly."
As an afterthought, he added, "Mercy upon you and your people if your King does not come to his senses."
He nodded to her and then he left. The one person Ailith thought could aid Rohan walked away from them. Who could help them now?