A/N A reminder to check lotrproject dot com once in a while to have a better understanding of the places that are being mentioned. It's an interactive map of Middle-earth with information about Settlements, Mountains etc if you click on it.

The Great Tower of Isengard

Orthanc was its name, the great Tower of Isengard. More than five-hundred feet tall it stood, and its razor-sharp pinnacle touched the very edges of the clouds. It was on the top of this pinnacle that Lily could see Methedras, the Southern most peak of the Misty Mountains to the North, and below it a recently constructed dam. To the West she saw the muddy trail of where once the river Isen flowed towards the Fords. To the East, she caught glimpses of a wild an ancient forest, and to her South lay the Gap of Rohan, the grass of its rolling hills dancing in the light of the sun.

For three days, Lily listened to the sound of metal clashing against metal below her. The felling of great trees rumbled through the air as it fuelled the very fires of the forges, and the cold rain clattering around her during the long and starless nights. She was given neither food nor drink, and she knew that she was being held there in an attempt to break her spirit. She had caught a mere glimpse of the Wizard Gríma had taken her to. Tall and proud he stood. His robes at glance appeared white, but in the changing light she could see that it was made of many colours. In his hand he held a black staff, and in the staff's crown was a round white stone that gleamed with the light of the moon.

She had sworn and spat at Gríma as he dragged her up on the many staircases that led to the Pinnacle of Orthanc. Asking him why he had taken her away from all that was good in Edoras. He did not answer until they had reached the very top, and was ready to lock the hatchet from the inside out. 'You wanted to meet with a Wizard, and you will in three days time,' he had said as he disappeared. Strangely, the words had been comforting more than fearsome. It meant that she was not bound to be left to rot at the top of the tower, and that sooner or later she would be taken down again to meet with him. Starved and exhausted as the night approached the fourth day of her imprisonment, the Wizard had come up through the hatch, carrying a goblet of water and bread for her to eat.

'You have a strong spirit, Lily of House Gryffindor,' said Saruman as he handed her the bread, and she devoured it in a matter of seconds. 'Gríma has told me so.'

'What are you going to do with me?' she asked as she gulped down the goblet of water.

'I wish to find out what you are capable of,' said Saruman as he turned his gaze up towards the night sky. 'Follow me. There is no more need for you to sleep under the stars.'

Weakened and stiff from the lack of proper sleep, she climbed her way through the hatchet, and saw below her the endless staircase Gríma had dragged her up. The sight of it reminded her of the Grand Staircase at Hogwarts, but the stairs weren't moving, and the warm welcoming chatter of the portraits were replaced by cold dark walls. They were nearly halfway when Saruman took a turn and ushered her inside a room. The room itself was tall and wide, but there were no windows, and all was coloured such a deep black that the light of the many candles that lit the room was swallowed by it. The room may be large, but it felt as though it were a small black box where the walls would come creeping closer with time. It may just as well be a prison cell. 'Tomorrow at first light we shall meet again,' said Saruman. 'Better make yourself acquainted with this space, as for now, this is your new home'. Without pardon, Saruman turned around on the balls of his feet, and readied himself to lock the iron door behind him.

'Before you go, sir,' said Lily with all the courage she could muster. 'Could you perhaps tell me what faith has befallen my wand?'

Saruman turned around, and gazed down at her with a raised eyebrow. 'You dare call that willow twig a wand, young lady?' he spat. 'It is nothing more than a piece of wood for healing purposes held in fragile hands. Perhaps it ought to be broken – or perhaps it shall be burnt.'

'Judging by your words, mister Wizard,' said Lily, 'I would say you don't consider it to be just a mere piece of wood. And what of my horse? What sort of curse had you placed upon her so that she would lead me here?'

'She is well cared for, for now,' said Saruman. 'That will be all.' He appeared to have had enough, as he turned around and locked the door behind him as he had intended. The door must be hermetically sealed, as there were no sound of footsteps to be heard from the other side.

Too exhausted to be scared of the new situation she was in, she looked around the room and found a four-poster bed made out of a dark wood. On it, red robes and a cloak lay sprawled out on the duvet. The dark red colour and golden embellishments stood in stark contrast with the rest of the room, and she knew they were put there for her to wear. She took off the worn dress that she had once been gifted by Éowyn, and put the new robes on. The thick wool was lined with velvet, and it felt like a warm embrace. She walked her way up to a mirror on the wall, and pulled the hood of the cloak over her head. Even the surface of the mirror was black, and Lily remembered a Divination class being devoted to scrying mirrors. By tradition, if a young woman were to gaze inside a scrying mirror, she were to be met with a glimpse of her future husband's face. She never caught sight of anything in the mirror, and neither did Severus when they gazed at the mirror together, and they laughed over the fact that they were lacking an inner eye. There were no glimpses of a future husband here, either. All she was met with was the ghostly reflection of her face, and the robes made her feel as though she were a walking flame. You are awakening, she remembered Aulë say to her.

And Saruman does not know that I have awakened, she thought to herself.

...o0o…

'What did you do to the others?' asked Lily.

'Nothing,' spat Gríma. 'I was ordered only to take you, and taking you is what I did.'

'What is in it for you?' she asked. 'Oh – now don't give me that look. We both know you've had your eyes set on Éowyn for a long time. Is that what Saruman has promised you? That he can somehow make her fall in love with you?'

'We shall speak no more of this!' hissed Gríma. 'Now hold your tongue, for the Wizard is coming.'

It had been Gríma who had woken her up the following morning, and had taken her down to what appeared to be a dining hall. Breakfast was served, and the table was presented with a tablecloth and neatly folded napkins, as though it were an ordinary Sunday at her family's dining table back in Cokeworth. It made her feel uneasy, as if she were expecting to be poisoned somehow.

Gríma stood up from the table and bowed politely at the arrival of the Wizard. 'She's here, as requested,' he said as he sat back down.

'That will do, Gríma,' said Saruman in a low voice. 'Lily, do eat, for we have a long day ahead of us.'

Though hesitant, the scent of the salted pork made her stomach growl, and she royally scooped the slices onto her plate. 'Why did you send me up to the top of the tower?' she asked as she wolfed down her food. 'What purpose did it serve?'

'Did you scream and cry when Gríma brought you down here for breakfast?' said Saruman. 'Did you complain and wallow in self-pity during the night? Did you feel a surge of anger to set my dwelling on fire as you were brought down from the Pinnacle of Orthanc? No, I think not. You are calm, and reserved, and you do as you are told because I did not tell you how long you would be held up there. Three days is all it takes to tame a wild beast that does not know when its captivity will end. And tamed you have been.'

For a split second, Lily's eyes met with the unnervingly pale blue of Gríma's, and he looked back at her with an expression she could neither interpret nor read. 'Mission accomplished then, I'd say,' she laughed nervously. 'A long day ahead of us, you said mister Wizard. What is it you want from me, aside from a demonstration of my power?'

'I have yet to discover how to make use of you yet,' said Saruman. 'Come, follow me. We shall go down into the pits.'

Lily felt a lump forming in her throat as she rushed along with Saruman's long strides. She knew of which pits he spoke of, as she had seen them when she had peaked over the edge of Orthanc down below. The fires burnt so hot she could nearly feel them from above. The great circle that surrounded Orthanc was crawling with Orcs, and they were dragging their chopped down trees into the black abyss.

The stench of sulphur filled her nostrils as Saruman opened the gates of Orthanc with a wave of his staff. For a brief moment Lily thought of making a run for it, but the circle of Isengard was wide, and its walls stood tall. For the first time since her arrival in Middle-earth, she wished for an enchanted broomstick, so she could rise high above it all and disappear into the land unknown before her. As she followed Saruman in silence, her thought turned to Éowyn and all the others she had grown to love in Edoras, and wondered if they had gone off in search for her. A loud squawking pulled her mind away from the Meduseld, and above her head she saw a group of black birds so high in number it blackened the sky.

'Those are the Crebain from Dunland and Fangorn Forest,' said Saruman as though he had heard her question in her thoughts. 'Only the Elf Rowena from Lothlórien has ever been able to tame the beasts – up till now. Now, they answer to me.'

They had reached a wooden scaffold that led down into the ground, and reluctantly, Lily followed him. Orcs she met along the path followed her with prying eyes, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. It was a long path down until they reached the slimes of the earth. There, she was met with the strange howling of wolf-like creatures, and a moment later saw the pit in which they were kept.

'These are Wargs,' said Saruman as Lily looked at them growling and fighting with each other. 'Highly intelligent beings, and capable of sniffing out the enemy from miles away. Orcs use them as mounts, and soon they will be send out to scout the surrounding lands.'

'I'm sorry,' said Lily as she looked at the Wargs with a sense of pity, 'but I still don't quite understand why you brought me down here.'

'Have patience, you will see soon enough,' said Saruman.

They walked their way even further down. The furnaces blew hot air around as though there were standing under a desert sun, and the many grooves in which the molten iron was poured into shimmered brightly against the bleakness of the deep. They came upon a cove filled with greenish clay. From it, Lily could see unknown things to her wriggling just below the surface, as though worms were trying to escape from it. 'What are they?' she asked with a look of disgust.

'A better, stronger breed of Orc,' said Saruman, who raised an eyebrow at the sight of it, 'that is, if all goes according to plan. Before we reach our destination, Gríma had told me about a boy you seek. Tell me more about him.'

'There isn't much for me to say,' said Lily, 'other than the fact that I lost him when I arrived here, which I'm sure Gríma must have told you all about.'

Saruman turned around and looked her in the eye. 'And what if I told you that I know he is alive?'

'Then my answer would be that I was already aware of that,' said Lily with as much confidence as she could muster. 'What of it?'

'And what if I told you that I know where he is?' said Saruman.

There was a twinkle in his eye that reminded Lily of Albus Dumbledore somehow, and yet this spark of light had not risen from a place of kindness. She felt a sense of hope rise up from her stomach, and yet doubt of the truth lingered on her heart. 'Is that where we are going?' she asked carefully. 'Are you taking me to him?'

Saruman shook his head. 'He is not here, but the Crabain have told me of his location. The birds see all, and they talk amongst each other from many miles away. They have set their eyes on him, for he resembles the Elf in which their own ancestors have spoken of with great fondness. Did you know that this boy who dares calling himself a Wizard, is a descendant of the great Rowena Crabannamma herself?'

'Rowena Ravenclaw,' Lily muttered under her breath. 'What does she have to do with Sev—'

'Speak up!' Saruman demanded.

'No, I was not aware,' she gritted through her teeth.

'It doesn't strike me as a thing to keep secret from a loved one,' said Saruman. 'Perhaps he's always known more about Middle-earth than you do.'

'I can see what you're trying to do,' huffed Lily. 'You want me to turn my mind against him. But I won't let you, as him and I have always kept many secrets from each other. And we've always held it over each other's heads. We're both insufferable like that.'

'You are headstrong,' said Saruman with a nod of approval. 'We're here.'

They had entered a very large chamber. The ceiling and the walls were covered in a white glittering substance, and many Orcs were delving it out of the walls in large chunks. In the centre, there stood a large and circular shaped forge, and molten iron was being poured into casts. With a quick lick on her finger Lily touched the wall and tasted it on the tip of her tongue. 'Saltpetre,' she said. 'What would you need – oh.' A memory came back to her when she got to hold her father's old hunting rifle for the first time. Sulphur. Charcoal. Saltpetre. She remembered mixing the ingredients and shoving it down the barrel. She had aimed it at a doe in the woods, tears streaming down her face as she pulled the trigger – and the family had eaten venison for the rest of that winter. 'What do you need explosives for?' she asked carefully.

'War is upon us,' said Saruman, and beaconed at the Orcs to leave the chamber with a mere wave of his hand. 'This forge, it is meant to be yours.'

'I've only ever made small things,' said Lily as she held her hand over the burning coals. 'What is it that you are expecting me to do here?'

'Enchant the blades,' said Saruman. 'Poison the very tips of the scimitars, so that a mere graze to the skin shall be deadly. I want you, to craft the very weapons that will kill the enemies.'

'And what if I refuse?' said Lily sternly. 'I know what enemy you speak of. You work for Sauron, which is why all the Orcs are here – and you are breeding more of them. The people of Rohan will be first, won't they? They are vulnerable without their King, and you know it. And now you're asking me to create the very weapons that will kill the people that have taken me in and treated me as their own. In what world would I ever want to do this for you? What unsound mind would ever come up with such a ludicrous idea!?'

Out of nowhere, Saruman raised the back of his hand and slapped her across the face. 'You speak to much,' he said calmly.

Lily felt the harsh sting on his hand on her cheek, and bit her tongue as to not start swearing him into oblivion. 'Where is he?' she asked stiffly.

'I will tell you, after you have demonstrated your power,' said Saruman and from inside a pocket of his robes he pulled out her wand and handed it over. 'You believe this small piece of wood to carry great power? Then show me what it is capable of.'

Magic was different here. She understood as much since she could feel the fire in her hands when working at Eorlund's forge for the first time. But her wand had not given her but a mere puff of smoke since her arrival into Middle-earth, and she didn't know if the awakening Aulë had given her would somehow grand her wand its ability to channel her power through it back. Looking at the wand she remembered how elated she had been to receive it. Ten and a quarter inch long, made from a beautiful tree with long slender leaves, and containing a single phoenix feather in its core. Her most beloved possession – and her only connection to the world back home. 'What if I stick it into the fire instead?' she said confidently, but felt a tremor in her hand at the mere thought of it.

Saruman shook his head and the corners of his lips curled into a smile. 'You won't,' he said. ' Again. Show me what you're capable of.'

Lily held up her wand to his heart. In her mind she went over the many spells that she had learnt over the years at Hogwarts, and even in her intrusive thoughts she thought of the unforgivable spells she felt she wanted to cast at the man before her. But the memory of Severus teaching her the Disarming Charm came to the surface. Expelliarmus! Lily! Ex-pel-li-ar-mus! You've heard of this spell before. You have to get it right! You must! It felt as though he had been preparing her for this all along. Expelliarmus, she thought as she envisioned Severus standing before her, ready to defend himself. She moved her wand graciously through the air as the spell repeated itself in her mind, and a force of power sprang from the tips of her fingers, and moved itself forward like a harsh gush of wind.

Saruman clutched his staff tight into his hands as the force of power pulled the staff backwards, and nearly dragged him into the forge. 'Strong is your power indeed,' he said as he regained his balance. 'But that power did not come from the tip of your wand.'

'It's not the wand that grants me my power,' said Lily, and she couldn't help but laugh as she felt her power returning to her body. 'It resides within me, as it has always done. As a Wizard, I believe you ought to have known better than that.'

Saruman did not respond to her jab. 'Show me what else you can do,' he demanded.

She wanted to play with the fire. Make it rise up and fling the hot coals of the forge into his eyes. To make him pay for having slapped her in the face, but she also knew that she did not stand a chance against the great Wizard that stood before her. It would only result in being sent back to the pinnacle, and the thought of it frightened her. Her mind turned to water instead. Aquamenti, she pointed her wand at the earth beneath her feet, and steam started to rise up through the cracks in the ground. The steam formed a cloud above their heads, and it started raining down on them, shrouding them in a thick mist caused by the cooling coals.

'Do you know how to alter the weather?' asked Saruman.

'I've never tried,' answered Lily truthfully.

'I've seen enough,' said Saruman. 'Hand me back your wand. It's time for us to go back to the surface.'

'Before I hand you back my wand,' said Lily, 'tell me where he is.'

'He resides with the Elves in Rivendell,' said Saruman.

'I don't know where that is,' said Lily, and gave up her wand in defeat.

Saruman hadn't lied when he said it was going to be a long day. He seemed to have acknowledged her for the Witch she is, despite the fact that her magical demonstration had been just that – a mere demonstration. They had climbed their way back to the surface, and continued to walk a long way in silence until they reached the high wall on the Eastside of Isengard. Several trees that had remained untouched shaded a large garden, and it took her a moment before she realised all trees were Yew trees. Poisonous trees. Severus' wand. The garden had a gloomy and sinister feel to it. Foxglove. Hemlock. Nightshade. Monkshood. Even the Hithlas that she had found on the King of Rohan grew here in abundance, and she understood now that it had to have come from here. It was meant to be her garden, and she was meant to use it to poison the blades of the Orcs. Among the wilted grass, she saw black shadows slithering through, followed by faint hissing sounds.

'Black adders,' said Lily with a hint of unease.

'Gríma, show yourself!' said Saruman at once.

Behind them, Gríma had appeared unnoticed. A strange hissing sound came from his mouth, and the adders, more than a dozen of them, returned to him and circled around his feet. 'The men from Dunland have arrived,' he said.

Lily was ordered to follow Gríma, and to stay out of sight from the Dunlendings, as though she was meant to be a secret from them. She knew of their history, as Éowyn had taught her much about it. Eorl had driven the Wild Men away from Calenardhon, which later became known as Rohan, for they had claimed it as their new land. Bitter hatred had stood between them since, and it came as no surprise that the Dunlendings would side with Saruman if he were to indeed plan an attack on Rohan in the near future.

'I thought you did not appreciate eavesdropping,' said Lily softly as she looked at Gríma listening at the door.

'These forsaken oaken doors are too thick for my ears,' growled Gríma as he attempted to listen to the leader of the Dunlendings speak with Saruman.

'Why not send in one of your snakes to do the listening for you?' said Lily.

'The Wizard will notice,' said Gríma. 'He may be as old as the land we stand on, but his eyes are as sharp as his wit.'

Lily crossed her arms and looked up at Gríma. 'I didn't know you could speak with snakes.'

'Of course you do,' said Gríma, and pulled her by the sleeve to lead them away from the door. 'You told me as much when you entered the King's quarters.'

'I thought they just called you Wormtongue because of the persuasion in your words,' said Lily. 'But you're a Parseltongue, as we call it where I am from. Hlimbe Lócë is how his name is told in the stories, through Salazar is his true name, and he was famed for his ability to speak with snakes.'

Gríma drew a deep breath, and continued walking down the corridor, as though he didn't want to continue this conversation in the near presence of the Wizard. 'I thought perhaps one of your parents was one of the Dunlendings,' said Lily as she hurried after him. 'You don't look like the men of Rohan, and it has put you in a lonely place, just how it has been a lonely place for Severus, and I think I'm starting to understand why.'

'My father's name was Gálmód,' said Gríma. 'He was a man of Rohan, and the chief advisor to King Théoden until he passed, and I inherited his position. You are correct to say that my mother was not a woman of Rohan. She was one of the Númenóreans, and very distantly related to Salazar's own mother, who could also speak with serpents. It is through her that I inherited this particular talent, though I prefer not to put it on a flag and wave it for all to see. Is that enough for you to understand?'

'I'm sorry for prying,' said Lily. 'It's just that – where I am from, there is someone well known for speaking Parseltongue, and many of us fear him above all others.'

'There are few of us left,' said Gríma, 'and considering our bastard histories we are all scattered in the bloodlines of other names. The Haradrim worship it, and they put a black serpent on their banner for that reason. And then there are those that fear it, such as your people – for they fear the return of the serpents to Middle-earth if they are called upon.'

'Are snakes that uncommon in Middle-earth?' asked Lily. 'Do people believe they signify some sort of prophecy?'

Gríma stopped dead in his tracks, and looked her in the eye. 'I must correct your words, Lily of House Gryffindor. It is serpents we – Parseltongues, as you named us – speak to. Not just snakes.'

'I'm sorry, but what difference does it make?' asked Lily.

'Snake is the name given to those who slither on the earth,' said Gríma. 'But there are also great serpents in the seas and in the skies. Their wings broad enough to create hurricanes. Their tails strong enough to bring tidal waves. The fires in their hearts hot enough to melt entire mountains to their roots.'

'Wyrms,' Lily mumbled under her breath. 'Dragons. You can speak with dragons too?'

'So it is said,' said Gríma. 'But the last dragon that fell was Smaug, and no-one has laid eyes on a living serpent since.'

'Are there no more dragons left in Middle-earth then?' asked Lily.

'There must be,' said Gríma. 'To meet one would be a great honour – to me at least.'

'I met a dragon once,' said Lily carefully. 'It was a few years ago. It had escaped from an island and had found Severus and me camping near the top of a mountain. It was large. Large to met at least. Its scaly skin was a shimmering black, its eyes were purple, and its tail was as sharp as an arrow. In that moment I could tell that it was curious more than dangerous, but a wrong move and we would have been reduced to ash. Severus saved me that day.'

Gríma looked up in deep thought. 'It is good to hear that dragons still roam the earth,' he said eventually, 'though I would be careful to share such knowledge so openly. It is believed that the dragons were created by Morgoth, and they are not loved in this world.'

'I understand,' said Lily. 'Is there any particular reason why we've stopped here?'

They had been standing still in front of a door for a while. The doors were as large as the entrance to the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and the cast iron locks on it made it clear it was not a place that was easily entered. 'Saruman wants me to show you where you are,' said Gríma. From his pocket he pulled out an oddly shaped key, and one by one the locks turned and twisted until the doors opened before them. Inside, they were met with a rows upon rows of books and scrolls. 'This is the library,' he said as they walked inside.

Lily was awe struck. She felt she had stepped inside a grand cathedral, and the very dust that lingered in the air smelled faintly of ancient knowledge. Her mind turned to Severus as she passed the many rows, and strangely thought that he would have loved being here, were it not for the terrible circumstances.

'The very history of Middle-earth lies written in these very scrolls,' said Gríma. 'Orthanc was built during the second age by the exiled Númenoreans, and they made it out of Laën, which means "Gift", and is said to be an unbreakable rock. It was found in volcanic areas, and loremasters believed that Laën is the relic that was left during the great wars that were wrought between Morgoth and the Valar.'

'And why did they build it?' asked Lily as she ran her fingers over a few books. She thought back to the scrying mirror that was on the wall in the room she was given. Obsidian is the name they gave to this particular rock in her world. Made in the fires of volcanoes as the earth turned to glass by the heat.

Gríma went still for a moment, as though in doubt he should share this particular knowledge with her. 'The Palantíri,' he said eventually, 'are also known as the Seeing-stones. Seven of them were brought to Middle-earth by Elendil and his sons after the Fall of Númenor. The Dúnedain placed their Stones across large distances to communicate with one another. The first one in Annúminas, but it drowned along with Arvedui, the last king of the Arthedain, in the Icebay of Forochel.'

'And also where Hlimbe Lócë heralds from,' said Lily as she remembered Éowyn's telling of the Legend of Helga.

'Indeed,' said Gríma. He took his dagger from the holder on his belt, and started cleaning the dirt from underneath his fingernails with it. 'There was one placed in the watchtower of Amon Sûl, known as Weathertop in the common tongue. After the slaying of King Arveleg the Stone was taken to Fornost by the Dúnedain, which became the capital after the fall of Annúminas. One still resides in Elostirion, the tallest of the three towers that stand near the borders of the Westmarch, and it lies under the care of Círdan the Shipwright. One lay under the Dome of Stars in Osgiliath, until the Dome was destroyed by Castamir the Usurper, and the Stone now lies lost beneath the surface of the Anduin. One still resides in Minas Tirith, the capital of Gondor.'

'And what of the last two?' asked Lily, intrigued by the story despite the rain of unknown names to her.

'One stone resides in Minas Morgul,' said Gríma. 'Once known as Minas Ithil, the Tower of the Moon. The city was taken by the Witchking of Angmar, and the stone now resides in his hands. The last Stone, as you may have guessed by now, resides here in Orthanc. It answers your question. The Númenóreans built this tower to house the Stone.'

'Thank you,' said Lily. 'It is an intriguing history that resides here, but I'm sure that the history of the Palantíri is not why you brought me here.'

'Saruman wants you to learn,' said Gríma, 'and learn fast. You must understand by now that he wants to put your talents to use in the inevitable uprising. Words here, carry power and meaning, and it has the ability to change all around us.'

'The most powerful magic there is,' said Lily. 'Words. I'm quite familiar. And as are you, it seems, as words seem to be the sword you wield with.' She thought back to the time she had spend up in Dumbledore's office after her falling out with Severus. Words, Miss Evans, are our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it. The words were different here, and she understood that learning them, was perhaps her greatest chance of ever making it out alive.

Gríma disappeared around a corner, and came back with a leather bound book in his hands. 'The Elf Fëanor, creator of the Silmarils, and rumoured to have created the Palantíri as well, created the first written words for Middle-earth. Tengwar, he called it, simply meaning "letters." Most of what you will find in this library will be written in Tengwar, and so learning to read it must be a good place to start. I shall leave you to it for a little while, and come back once supper is served.'

Lily took the book from his hands and found a comfortable writing desk to sit. 'I don't understand why you are being so kind to me,' she said before Gríma had a chance to leave.

'Don't mistake my willingness for kindness,' he said.

'And yet you're willing to share your own history with me, and answer my questions,' she said. 'You took me here. You've clearly made your choice as to whose side you're on, and you find protection here under the ruling of a powerful Wizard. Taking me here in the hopes of turning me into a weapon might put you in the Wizard's good graces, but what do you gain out of all this? Is it Éowyn, as I said this morning? Is it love or is it lust?'

'You tell me the difference, and I will let you know,' said Gríma as he shoved the dagger back in its holder. Something changed in the depth of his pale eyes, and Lily knew she was walking on thin ice.

'Only you can figure that out,' she said.

'How is it for you, with Severus?' he asked.

Lily couldn't help but smile a little, and a rage burned in her heart as she spoke the words. 'Do you know why I'm not throwing tantrums left and right for being held here against my will?,' she said clearly. 'It's expected that I would, as I obviously have no desire to be here. There is nothing for me to be gained if I joined forces with you and Saruman, and I know that I will be discarded as soon as I am no longer of use. And yet I sit here, and I will open this book and read it, rather than tear up its pages out in anger and frustration. It's because of Severus. Along the way I have started to learn something that I never would have learnt had I not ended up here in Middle-earth. That in order to understand what and who you are, you must surround yourself by that which makes you. Severus knows this. He has been surrounding himself with many evil things over the last few years, as he has been surrounded by evil things for all of his life. It is the only way to make sense what is happening to you. He is driven to do all of these things he does from a place of love. And for that, for him, I will also do all these things from a place of love as well. It is my only chance of ever making it back to him. Because there is no power great enough that will make me cast him aside. My love for him is the driving force behind me sitting here, and I shall remain here and do your bidding until the day comes that I may leave this place. Because I will leave this place. And I will find him. That much I can promise you.'

Gríma did not answer to her rant. Their eyes were locked for a long time, and eventually he tore them away in defeat. 'I shall come back for you once supper is served.' He turned around, and his footsteps echoed behind him until he closed the door.

Wanting to distract her mind from the emotional outpouring, she opened the book as quick as she could, and on the first page she discovered that learning Tengwar was going to be a struggle as much as Ancient Runes had been a struggle to her. She leafed through several more pages, and out fell a large folded piece of parchment. She unfolded it carefully, and found what appeared to be a large map. All the settlements, rivers, regions and mountains were labelled in Tengwar, but she understood that she was looking at a map of Middle-earth.

The distraction wasn't helping. Her mind turned back to Severus, and of learning that he was now residing in a place called Rivendell. But worse yet, Saruman had spoken of Severus' connection to Middle-earth. That he was related to Rowena Crabannamma. Ravenclaw. A thing he never told her about. A thing that may mean he knew about Middle-earth all along, and a spark of doubt was starting to grow in her heart about the finding of the Ring at the bottom of the Great Lake, and of all the reasons behind it. She felt tears starting to roll down her face as she looked over the map before her.

Something slithered by her feet, and through her tear stained eyes she saw a black adder curving its way around her leg and up to the desk. With its tail, the snake pointed at a small dot on the west-side of the vast mountain range that were the Misty Mountains. Hastily, Lily looked at the book and found a page on the pronunciation of certain letters. R. V. D. L. she managed to spell out. 'That must be Rivendell,' she said to the snake. 'Could you tell me where we are?'

The snake made its way down the map and pointed at the southern most end of the Misty Mountains. There in the cove of the mountains she found Isengard. 'And where is Edoras?' she asked after that. The snake made its way further down to the South-east, and past the river, which she understood to be the river Snowbourne, it pointed at another small dot. She knew, judging by the time it had taken from Gríma to take her from Edoras to Isengard, that the distance between the two places had to be over a hundred and fifty miles at least. On foot, it could easily take a week to make it back.

The vastness of the land was overwhelming, and any tears she had tried to hold back were now falling freely. The distance between her and Severus was so great that it seemed impossible to travel, even if she were free to walk out of the front gates of Orthanc unharmed. She had hoped that knowing where he resided would bring her peace, but all it brought her was a sense of impending failure. She breathed in and out a few times, trying to pull herself together. With determination, she continued looking at the rest of the map, and figured that if she ever found a way out alive, it was best to know the surroundings by heart as much as she could.

'Thank you,' she said at the snake. 'I know, from a distance, you are looking out for me now.' The snake looked back at her in a way to say that it was glad to have done its job, slithered away from the map, and disappeared in the shadows on the ground.

...o0o…

Gríma had returned for Lily for supper, and no words were spoken until Saruman had joined them at the table. 'Tell me, Gríma,' said Saruman, 'what have you learnt about Lily in my absence today?'

'That she is very determined to learn,' said Gríma, 'and I have sensed no lies in her will to abide by your wishes.'

'And what makes you say that she is so willing to abide by my ruling?' asked Saruman. 'What made her change her mind in the span of a single day?'

'Because her determination is led by that which is pure,' said Gríma. 'She is led by love. That is the truth.'

Saruman scoffed. 'Love,' he said with a hint of disgust. Love will not help you break free from the chains we have given you.'

'Gríma is right, though,' said Lily as she helped herself to a few potatoes. 'I believe that the world moves for love. It is the greatest of all magic, and it kneels before it in awe.'

A/N Gríma actually played a major role in the story of The Lord of the Rings prior to his first appearance in The Two Towers. In Unfinished Tales, Tolkien writes that on September 20 in 3018 Gríma was captured by the Nazgûl in the fields of Rohan, while on his way to Isengard to tell Saruman of Gandalf's arrival at Edoras. He was interrogated and divulged what he knew of Saruman's plans to the Nazgûl, specifically his interest in the Shire and its location, revealing Saruman's two-facedness towards Sauron by wanting the Ring for himself. Previously, the location of the Shire had been unknown to the Nazgûl, but they knew it to be the home of "Baggins" whom they thought still had the Ring.
Gríma Wormtongue was set free, for the Lord of the Nazgûl saw that he would not dare tell anyone of their meeting and he guessed that he would be of much use to Sauron, while doing harm to the turncoat White Wizard in the future. The Nazgûl set out immediately for the Shire. Had the Ringwraiths not captured Gríma, they would instead have pursued Gandalf into Rohan, and possibly not have found the Shire until much later, giving the Hobbits a considerable head start.
September 20th 3018 is also roughly the same moment that Severus and Lily arrived in Middle-earth.

A/N Orthanc stands 500 feet tall, which is roughly 50 stories. By definition that makes Orthanc a skyscraper.

A/N In the books, Saruman the White becomes Saruman of Many Colours. "For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!' I [Gandalf] looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered."
I suppose in the movies they didn't do this simply because it distracts from the visual storytelling, and it's hard to convey a very serious moment of Saruman's turning by making his robes look like a waving Pride flag. Tolkien's reasoning for writing this is most likely to symbolise the loss of purity that is associated with the colour white, and it helps make Saruman announce that he is no longer the leader of the White Council.

Then there's also the bit about Saruman calling himself a Ring-maker. Tolkien scholars have delved deep into the how and why of Saruman's Ring, but there's no information to be found on whether Saruman made it himself or was actually given to him by Sauron. It is also unknown just how much power it gave him, as it didn't seem to hold any significance to the story otherwise, and Saruman as a Maia/Wizard is already an incredibly powerful being without it.
For the sake of this story, and the fact that there are already so many Rings involved, Saruman's Ring will lie forgotten just like how it was forgotten about in canon.

A/N I don't recall if I've posted it before, so I will do it again. The significance of a Willow wand: "Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I [Ollivander] have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow." - Wizardingworld

A/N Serpent is a name used for dragons, and also as a synonym for ordinary snakes. The Black Serpent was a heraldic symbol for the Haradrim, suggesting that snakes exist in Middle-earth.