Title & Chapter Number The Wayward Wish 9/14
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Tortured Scribes
Fandom: Tolkien
RatingNC-17
Disclaimer Thank you J.R.R. for the wonderful playground of Middle Earth. Thank you Peter for the wonderful playground created by your casting department. I don't own any copyrighted material in this fic, I'm just borrowing it and I promise to return it when I'm done. Did I mention I have no money?
Warnings None
Betas Jay Foppins III and Constance Ambrose
Cast Characters for Lord of the Rings, Original Female Character
Timeline Lord of the Rings AU
Spoilers The Two Towers
Summary The realities of being a modern woman zapped back in time to Middle Earth - minus the fluff.
Notes Elvish is Sindarin; If it looks like Tolkien and it sounds like Tolkien, it probably is. He wrote it first, he wrote it best, I'm just repeating it for storytelling purposes and make no claim that I came up with it. Everyone else has done the Modern Female in M.E., so now it's my turn. Hopefully, I've done it with a bit of style and believability.
Chapter Nine: Wizards, Kings, and War
They rode until night had well and truly fallen before stopping to rest. Gandalf merely stood, eyes gazing South while the others rested. After a few hours, he roused them and with the Moon as their guide they continued onward towards Edoras.
Jessy found it difficult to keep her eyes open as the rocking sensation of the horse lulled her towards sleep. Finally her eyes lost the battle and she slowly began to slide from the horse. Aragorn reached behind and dragged her in front of him. He hoped that they would be received well at Edoras because he had every intention of leaving Jessy there. Arda was fast moving towards war and he was not about to drag an untried girl into its midst.
The sky brightened as dawn approached and still they rode on until the morning had brightened. Gandalf stopped and pointed to the distance.
"Look!" Before them stood the mountains of the South. "There lies Edoras with its golden hall called Meduseld. There dwells Théoden son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan. Draw no weapon, speak no haughty word, I counsel you all, until we are come before Theoden's seat." He turned a glance towards Jessy's direction as he spoke for the girl had become a lot lippier since their last meeting.
They arrived before the gates of Edoras, which were guarded by men in mail carrying spears.
"Stay, strangers here unknown!" The guards cried as they moved to bar the way of Gandalf and the others. They demanded to know their names and what business they had in their land. The guards, however, had spoken in the tongue of the Riddermark.
"Well do I understand your speech" Gandalf answered them in their own language. "Yet few strangers do so. Why then do you not speak in the Common Tongue, as is the custom in the West, if you wish to be answered?"
"It is the will of Théoden King that none shall enter his gates, save those who know our tongue and are our friends." This came from one of the guards. "None are welcome here in days of war but our own folk, and those that come from Mundburg in the land of Gondor. Who are you that come heedless over the plain thus strangely clad, riding horses like to our own horses? Long have we kept guard here, and we have watched you from afar. Never have we seen other riders so strange, nor any horse more proud than is one of these that bear 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 now and be swift!"
"We are no phantoms," said Aragorn, "nor do your eyes cheat you. For indeed these are your own horses that we ride, as you knew well ere you asked, I guess. But seldom does thief ride home to the stable. Here are Hasufel and Arod, that Éomer, the Third Marshal of the Mark, lent to us, only two days ago. We bring them back now, even as we promised him. Has not Éomer then returned and given warning of our coming?
The guard looked troubled by Aragorn's statement. "Of Éomer I have naught to say. If what you tell me is truth, then doubtless Théoden will have heard of it. Maybe your coming was not wholly unlooked for. It is but two nights ago that Wormtongue came to us and said that by the will of Théoden no stranger should pass these gates."
"Wormtongue?" Gandalf said sharply. "Say no more! My errand is not to Wormtongue, but to the Lord of the Mark himself. I am in haste. Will you not go or send to say that we are come?" His eyes glinted as they bore into the guard.
"Yes, I will go," the guard answered slowly. "But what names shall I report? And what shall I say of you? Old and weary you seem now, and yet you are fell and grim beneath, I deem."
"Well do you see and speak," said the wizard. "For I am Gandalf. I have returned. And behold! I too bring back a horse. Here is Shadowfax the Great, whom no other hand can tame. And here beside me is Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir of kings, and it is to Mundburg that he goes. Before him is his squire, Jessy who is ward to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of the Golden Wood. Here also are Legolas the Elf, Prince of Mirkwood and Gimli the Dwarf who is the son of Glóin. Go now and say to your master that we are at his gates and would have speech with him, if he will permit us to come into his hall."
"Strange names you give indeed! But I will report them as you bid, and learn my master's will. Wait here a little while, and I will bring you such answer as seems good to him. Do not hope too much! These are dark days."
He left swiftly leaving the strangers with his comrades. After some time he returned. "Follow me! Théoden gives you leave to enter; but any weapon that you bear, be it only a staff, you must leave on the threshold. The doorwardens will keep them."
He led them down a path that wound upwards until the path became short flights of well-laid steps. There were many houses of wood and a stone channel, in which flowed a stream of clear water, along the path. Finally they reached the top of the path where guards sat before great doors.
"The guard turned to them and said, "There are the doors before you. I must return now to my duty at the gate. Farewell! And may the Lord of the Mark be gracious to you!"
The guards at the top of the stairs were silent until Gandalf stepped before them. Then they spoke in unison. "Hail, comers from afar!"
One of the guards stepped forward. "I am the Doorward of Théoden. Háma is my name. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter."
Legolas turned to Jessy and motioned for her weapons. She reluctantly handed him her sword, bow and quiver. He placed these on the ground near door and added his knife, bow and quiver. "Keep these well for they come from the Golden Wood and the Lady of Lothlórien gave them to us."
Háma looked at them in wonder. "No man will touch them, I promise you."
Aragorn hesitated. "It is not my will to put aside my sword or to deliver Andúril to the hand of any other Man."
"It is the will of Théoden," said Háma.
"It is not clear to me that the will of Théoden son of Thengel, even though he be lord of the mark, should prevail over the will of Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elendil's heir of Gondor."
"This is the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, even were he King of Gondor in the sear of Denethor," said Háma as he moved to block the doors. His sword was in his hand, the blade pointed at them.
"This is idle talk," said Gandalf. "Needless is Theoden's demand, but it is useless to refuse. A king will have his way in his own hall, be it folly or wisdom."
"Truly," said Aragorn. "And I would do as the master of the house bade me, were this only a woodman's cot, if I bore now any sword but Andúril."
"I will stay and guard it if you wish," Jessy piped up from Aragorn's side.
He shook his head at the girl and motioned for her to be quiet. "Hush, boy!"
Jessy frowned at him, had she not given up her weapons without so much as a snort of complaint? Now who was acting like a child, it was just a silly sword after all. She had no comprehension of the specialness of the blade at Aragorn's side.
"Whatever its name may be," said Háma; "here you shall lay it, if you would not fight alone against all the men in Edoras."
"Not alone!" said Gimli, fingering the blade of his axe, and looking darkly up at the guard, as if he were a young tree that Gimli had a mind to fell. "Not alone!"
Jessy suddenly wished she hadn't given up her sword and bow so easily to Legolas. Damn the Elf anyways.
"Come, Come!" said Gandalf. "We are all friends here. Or should be; for the laughter of Mordor will be our only reward, if we quarrel. My errand is pressing. Here at least is my sword, Goodman Háma. Keep it well. Glamdring it is called, for the Elves made it long ago. Now let me pass. Come, Aragorn!"
Aragorn slowly unbuckled his belt and laid the sword up against the wall. "Here I set it," he said; "but I command you not to touch it, nor to permit any other to lay hand on it. In this Elvish sheath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrought it in the deeps of time. Death shall come to any man that draws Elendil's sword save Elendil's heir."
The guard backed away and looked in amazement at Aragorn.
So much for being just a silly sword, Jessy thought to herself. She was secretly glad, however, that Aragorn had finally relented to removing the weapon. The tension in the air had been getting pretty thick.
"Well," said Gimli, "if it has Andúril to keep it company, my axe may stay here, too, without shame." He laid the axe on the floor near the other weapons. "Now then, if all is as you wish, let us go and speak with your master."
The guard hesitated. "Your staff," he said to Gandalf. "Forgive me, but that too must be left at the doors."
"Foolishness!" said Gandalf. "Prudence is one thing, but discourtesy is another. I am old. If I may not lean on my stick as I go, then I will sit out here, until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak with me."
Aragorn laughed. "Every man has something too dear to trust to another. But 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 a prop for age," said Háma. He looked hard at the ash-staff on which Gandalf leaned. "Yet in doubt a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom. I believe you are friends and folk worthy of honor, who have no evil purpose. You may go in."
The guards lifted the heavy bars and swung open the doors. They passed through hall past a fire burning in a low hearth in the center of the hall, stopping just beyond it. At the far end of the hall was a dais with three steps leading up to it. On the dais stood a great gilded chair with an old man, bent with age, seated upon it. Behind the chair stood a woman in white and at his feet sat another man with a pale face and heavy-lidded eyes.
Jessy felt a shiver of disgust pass through her as the pale-faced man's eyes flickered over her.
The man on the chair did not speak or move.
"Hail, Théoden son of Thengel! I have returned. For behold! The storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed."
The old man rose slowly to his feet, leaning heavily upon a short black staff with a handle of white bone. "I greet you and maybe you look for welcome. But truth to tell your welcome is doubtful here, Master Gandalf. You have ever been a herald of woe. Troubles follow you like crows, and ever the oftener the worse. I will not deceive you: when I heard that Shadowfax had come back riderless, I rejoiced at the return of the horse, but still more at the lack of the rider; and when Éomer brought the tiding that you had gone at last to your long home, I did not mourn. But news from afar is seldom sooth. Here you come again! And with you come evils worse than before, as might be expected. Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow? Tell me that." He sat slowly back down in his chair.
Great, thought Jessy to herself, out of the pan and into the fire. They had given up their weapons and were now defenseless. She glanced about the wide hall nervously, unable to see beyond the pillars into the shadows. She half expected at any moment to see guards pouring from the darkness to cut them down. She moved instinctively closer to Legolas, who did not miss her telling nervousness. He laid a calming hand on her shoulder, his attention still on the old man.
"You speak justly, lord," said the pale man sitting upon the steps of the dais. He had not missed the boy's subtle shift towards the Elf, nor the hand of comfort placed upon his shoulder. The boy was exquisite and he wondered idly if the Elf had already sampled the pleasure found between his rounded cheeks. "It is not yet five days since the bitter tidings came that Théodred your son was slain upon the West Marches; your right hand, Second Marshal of the Mark. In Éomer there is little trust. Few men would be left to guard your walls, if he had been allowed to rule. And even now we learn from Gondor that the Dark Lord is stirring in the East. Such is the hour in which this wanderer chooses to return. Why indeed should we welcome you, Master Stormcrow? Láthspell I name you, Ill news; and ill news is an ill guest they say." He laughed then, his eyes straying over the rest of the company before turning them once again on Jessy.
"You are held wise, my friend Wormtongue, and are doubtless a great support to your master," answered 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 only to bring aid in time of need."
"That is so," said Wormtongue. "But there is a third kind: pickers of bones, meddlers in other men's sorrows, carrion-fowl that grows fat on war. What aid have you ever brought, Stormcrow? And what aid do you bring now? It was aid from us that you sought last time that you were here. Then my lord bade you choose any horse that you would and begone; and to the wonder of all you took Shadowfax in your insolence. My lord was sorely grieved; yet to some it seemed that to speed you from the land the price was not too great. I guess that it is likely to turn out the same once more: you will seek aid rather than render it. Do you bring men? Do you bring horses, swords, spears? That I would call aid; that is our present need. But who are these that follow at your tail? Three ragged wanderers in gray, a skinny boy, and you yourself the most beggar-like of the five!" He let his eyes drift back over the boy and wondered if he might not arrange to have him separated from his fellows.
Wormtongue's leer was not lost on Gimli who scowled at the man before shifting to stand directly in front of Jessy. Had he his axe he would have cut the man down for this disrespectful gaze he laid upon the girl.
"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden son of Thengel," said Gandalf. "Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received four such guests. Weapons they have laid at your doors that are worth many a mortal man, even the mightiest. Grey is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils to your hall."
Then it is true, as Éomer reported, that you are in league with the Sorceress of the Golden Wood?" said Wormtongue. "That the boy is a changeling, no doubt sent here as a to work some foul magic upon this hall. It is not to be wondered at: webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene."
"Fuck you, asshole," Jessy yelled as she started forward intent on hitting the sleaze jerk. Legolas, who quickly wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her tightly to him, restrained her.
Gimli strode a pace forward, but felt suddenly the hand of Gandalf clutch him by the shoulder, and he halted, standing stiff as stone.
Jessy was still shouting obscenities and struggling against Legolas hold. Aragorn grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him.
"Enough, child. Remember your standing in the Lady's court and cease your tantrum." Aragorn hissed at her, though he softened the reprimand with a smile for he also was loathed to hear the Lady slandered.
Gandalf cast aside his tattered cloak and stood up, no longer needing to lean on his staff. He spoke in a clear cold voice. "The wise speak only of what they know, Gríma son of Gálmód. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls."
He raised his staff. There was the roll of thunder and the sunlight was blotted out from the eastern windows; the whole hall became suddenly dark as night. The fire faded to sullen embers. Only Gandalf could be seen, standing white and tall before the blackened hearth.
In the gloom they heard the hiss of Wormtongue's voice: "Did I not counsel you, lord, to forbid his staff? That fool, Háma, has betrayed us!"
There was a flash as if lightning had cloven the roof. Then all was silent. Wormtongue sprawled on his face.
Jessy felt like cheering and clapping but wisely kept silent. Legolas had still not released his hold on her, which was the only thing that was stopping her from running forward and kicking the fallen man.
"Now Théoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me?" said Gandalf. "Do you ask for help?" He lifted his staff and pointed to a high window. A patch of clear sky could be seen there while all else was still dark. "Not all is dark. Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find. Will you hear them? They are not for all ears. I bid you come out before your doors and look abroad. Too long have you sat in shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings"
Théoden left his chair and a faint light grew in the hall again. The woman moved quickly to the king's side and took his arm. They made their way across the hall with Gandalf in the lead.
Gandalf knocked on the doors and called, "Open! The Lord of the Mark comes forth!"
The doors opened and a wind from the hills blew in. Jessy and the others stood by the hearth and watched as Gandalf said something to the king. Théoden turned and spoke to the woman biding her to leave him with Gandalf. They heard her name carried on the wind, Éowyn -niece to Théoden, the Lady of the Mark.
Aragorn and the others remained inside the hall and watched as Gandalf and Théoden spoke for a while. Then Háma appeared before them as if summoned only to disappear once again as if on some errand. It was then that Gandalf led Théoden back into the hall to his throne. Gandalf sat before the king upon the topmost stair as Aragorn, Jessy, Legolas, and Gimli stood nearby.
"There is no time to tell all that you should hear," said Gandalf. "Yet if my hope is not heated, a time will come ere long when I can speak more fully. Behold! You are come into a peril greater even than the wit of Wormtongue could weave into your dreams. But see! You dream no longer. You live. Gondor and Rohan do not stand alone. The enemy is strong beyond our reckoning, yet we have hope at which he has not guessed."
Gandalf spoke softly to the king so that no one else could hear what he was saying. He continued once again in a louder voice. "Verily, that way lies our hope, where sits our greatest fear. Doom hangs still on a thread. Yet hope there is still, if we can but stand unconquered for a little while."
The others knew then that he spoke of Frodo and Sam. Jessy sent a silent pray to whatever gods were listening to protect and guide her small friends.
"Alas!" said Théoden, "that these evil days should be mine, and should come in my old age instead of that peace which I have earned. Alas for Boromir the brave! The young perish and the old linger, withering."
Jessy managed not to snort as the old king expressed sorrow for Boromir. Her friends had always chided her about being stubborn and holding grudges.
She watched as the old king clutched at his knees with his wrinkled hands. She felt pity stir in her heart at the sight. She didn't fully understand the real danger this world faced but it seemed a shame for one so old to be burdened with the responsibility of fending it off.
"Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped a sword-hilt," Gandalf said quietly.
Théoden rose and put his hand to his side. "Where has Gríma stowed it?" he muttered under his breath.
"Take this, dear lord!" said a clear voice. "It was ever at your service."
Jessy turned to see two men standing a few steps from the top. They had come in so quietly that she had not heard them until one had spoken. It was Éomer and he held a drawn sword, which he knelt and offered to his king.
"How comes this?" said Théoden sternly. He turned towards Éomer.
They looked at him in surprise, for the tired old man was gone.
"It is my doing, lord," said Háma, who was the second newcomer. "I understood that Éomer was to be set free. Such joy was in my heart that maybe I have erred. Yet, since he was free again, and he a marshal of the Mark, I brought him his sword as he bade me."
"To lay at your feet, my lord, " said Éomer.
For a moment of silence Théoden stood looking down at Éomer as he knelt still before him. Neither moved.
"Will you not take the sword?" asked Gandalf.
Théoden slowly took the sword and began to sing a song in a language that Jessy didn't understand. But the next thing she knew the guards came running into the hall and up on the stairs.
Oh shit, she thought. Her eyes darted around the room as the guards drew their swords and called out to Théoden.
Legolas felt more than saw Jessy tense up once again. He smiled to himself before placing a calming hand on her shoulder once again. She is very jumpy, he mused silently. Despite what she might think, it was foolish for her not to stay in the Golden Wood. Legolas conveniently forgot that the Lady had bid that Jessy be brought along with them. He made up his mind to speak to Aragorn about leaving her here with the Rohan. The time had come for war and it was no place for a young girl with no fighting skills. Besides, some time away from her might help him get rid of this fascination he held for her. He could call it nothing else and refused to listen to the nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him it was something more.
Éomer cried out at the sight of the guards and his king. "Westu Théoden hál! 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!"
"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. Now, Gandalf, you said that you had counsel to give, if I would hear it. What is your counsel?"
Up until now, Jessy hadn't noticed that Gríma was no longer in the hall. She cursed herself for not paying more attention to the slime ball. She felt Legolas squeeze her shoulder lightly and willed herself to calm down.
"You have yourself already taken it", answered Gandalf. "To put your trust in Éomer, rather than in a man of 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, as Éomer counseled you: 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, the women and the children and the old, should fly to the refuges that you have in the mountains. Were they not prepared against just such an evil day as this? Let them take provision, but delay not, nor burden themselves with treasure, great or small. It is their lives that are at stake.
"This counsel seems good to me now," said Théoden. "Let all my folk get ready! But you my guests - truly you said, Gandalf, that the courtesy of my hall is lessened. 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 today, and we will ride with them, axe, sword, and bow. We did not bring them to rest against your wall, Lord of the Mark. And I promised Éomer that my sword and his should be drawn together."
Jessy groaned quietly at the thought of missing a well-earned rest. If Aragorn heard it, he made no mention.
"Now indeed there is hope of victory!" said Éomer but he cast an eye at Jessy, for he knew well that she was not a boy as he first surmised. He wondered if he could not counsel Aragorn to leave her here with his sister.
"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! You do not know your own skill in healing. It shall not be so. I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of the battle, if it must be. Thus shall I sleep better."
"Then even the defeat of Rohan will be glorious in song." Said Aragorn.
Jessy wondered what insanity would lead someone to willing want to go into battle and possible die. She failed to consider herself in that thought and it would come back to haunt her later on.
"But your people must not be both unarmed and shepherdess," warned Gandalf. "Who shall guide then and govern them in your place?"
"I will take thought for that ere I go," answered Théoden. "Here comes my counselor."
Háma had returned to the hall. Behind him were two guards walking a cringing Wormtongue between them. Háma knelt and presented to Théoden a long sword in a gold scabbard set with green gems.
"Here, lord, is Herugrim, your ancient blade." Háma said to his king. "It was found in his chest. Loth was he to render up the keys. Many other things are there which men have missed."
Busted! thought Jessy to herself and she couldn't help but smile at the greasy little man.
"You lie! And this sword your master himself gave into my keeping." Gríma tried to manipulate his way out of trouble.
"And he now required it of you again", said Théoden. "Does that displease you?"
"Assuredly not, lord," said Wormtongue. "I care for you and yours 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?"
Jessy couldn't believe Gríma was acting as if he was in charge of the king.
"I will. And let food for my guests be set on the board beside me. The host rides today. Send the heralds forth! Let them summon all who dwell nigh! Every man and strong lad able to bear arms, all who have horses, let them be ready in the saddle at the gate ere the second hour from noon!"
"Dear lord!" cried Wormtongue. "It is as I feared. This wizard has bewitched you. Are none to be left to defend the Golden Hall of your fathers, and all your treasure? None to guard the Lord of the Mark?"
"If this is bewitchment, it seems to me more wholesome than your whisperings. Your leechcraft ere long would have had me walking on all fours like a best. No, not one shall be left, not even Gríma. Gríma shall ride too. Go! You have yet time to clean the rust from your sword!"
Jessy watched the bantering between the old king and Gríma with marked interest. She wondered if the sleaze ball would be able to worm his way out of this mess.
"Mercy, lord!" whined Wormtongue. He was now groveling on the ground much to Jessy's amusement. "Have pity on one worn out in your service. 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!"
"You have my pity," said Théoden. "And I do not send you from my side. I go myself 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 hunted look of a beast seeking some gap in the ring of his enemies. His eyes narrowed as he saw the look of glee on Jessy's face. Laugh now boy, but I will have you bent before me screaming. My master will see to that. He turn back to face the king who he now desperately tried to regain his hold on. "Such a resolve might be expected from a lord of the House of Eorl, old though he be. But those who truly love him would spare his failing years. Yet I see that I have come too late. Others, whom the death of my lord would perhaps grieve less, have already persuaded him. If I cannot undo their work, hear me at least in this. Lord! One who knows your mind and honors your commands should be left in Edoras. Appoint a faithful steward. Let your counselor Gríma keep all things till your return - and I pray that we may see it, though no wise man will deem it hopeful."
Éomer laughed. "And if that plea does not excuse you from war, most noble Wormtongue. What office of less honor would you accept? To carry a sack of meal up into the mountains - if any man would trust you with it?"
"Nay, Éomer, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue." Gandalf said as he turned piercing eyes at Wormtongue. "He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays a game with peril and wins a throw. Hours of my precious time he has wasted already. Down snake!" Gandalf's voice had taken on an ominous tone. "Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price? When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps. Even as you plan to debauch the youth in my company, though I have no doubt you would have been surprised by what you found."
Éomer grasped at his sword. "That I knew already! For Éowyn's sake I would have slain him before, forgetting the law of the hall. But there are other reasons" He stepped forward but Gandalf stopped him with a hand motion.
"Éowyn is safe now as is Aragorn's squire. But you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your rue master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt to overlook his bargains. I should advise you to go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service."
"You lie," Wormtongue cried.
"That word comes too oft and easy from your lips. I do not lie. See, Théoden, here is a snake! With safety you cannot take it with you, nor can you leave it behind. To slay it would be just. But it was not always as it now is. Once it was 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 you shall judge him."
"Do you hear this, Wormtongue? Théoden looked at the man before his feet. "This is your choice: to ride with me to war, and let us see in battle whether you are true; or to go now, whither you will. But then, if ever we meet again, I shall not be merciful."
Wormtongue got slowly to his feet. He looked at the occupants of the room through slitted eyelids. He began to move his hand and his eyes seemed to glitter. Malice seemed to radiate from him and the men in the room took a step backwards. Jessy forgot her glee at his predicament and moved closer to Legolas. Then Wormtongue spat at Theoden's feet and darted to one side. Before anyone could react, he fled down the stairs.
"After him," yelled Théoden. "See that he does no harm to any, but do not hurt him or hinder him. Give him a horse, if he wishes it."
Jessy let out the breath she had been holding as she watched the guards move to do the king's bidding.
"Now my guests, come!" said Théoden. "Come and take such refreshment as haste allows."
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