Dragon Rider in Middle Earth

XXXVI

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-Gibbets and crows? Dotard!- the wizard on the steps shouts -What do you want Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess: the key of Orthanc, or perhaps the key of Barad-dûr itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards!- he flinched when Argent drops down form his perch, an annoyed dragon was far worse than an angry dragon and Arya could see the wizard though so as well.

-Your treachary has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk, but you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council- Gandalf sits up straighter and higher on Shadowfax.

Realizing he has something to bargain with, Saruman grins trying to ignore the fearsome creature lumbering in the background and the fact that they outnumbered him..

-So you have come here for information. I have some for you- from his robes, Saruman whips out a glowing Palantír, and stares at it raptly -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 moves Shadowfax forward.

-You're all going to die- the man says dauntingly -But you know this don't you, Gandalf- Saruman sneers at Aragorn -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.

Arya wanted to wring his neck, all control Eragon and Saphira had taught both her and Argent almost gone if it weren't for the hands which had gripped hers.

-Gandalf does not hesistate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me... what words of confort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom?

Gandalf sighs.

-The path that you have set him on can only lead to death.

-I've heard enough- Gimli turns to Legolas- Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob.

Legolas reaches for his quiver after hesitantly letting go of Arya's hands but is stopped as Gandalf raises one hand.

No- Gandalf stops him by holding up his hand -Come down Saruman, and your live will be spared.

Argent who had begun growling and showing his fangs lowered his lip until it resembles a snarl.

-Save your pity and your mercy; I have no use for it!- Saruman shoots a fireball from his staff. The flames engulf Gandalf and Shadowfax.

- No!- Arya, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli's horses recoil back at the heat as their riders seem surprised by what had happened to their friend.

Suddenly the flames die out, revealing an unscathed Gandalf, to Saruman's surprise.

-Saruman, your staff is broken- Saruman's staff shatters in his hand.

From behind Saruman, a hunched figure approaches: Gríma Wormtongue.

Arya holds the white wizard in place without his knowledge as the cowardly man walks forward.

-Gríma, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan! Come down- the king of Rohan states.

Gríma bows to Théoden.

-A man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and rats roll on the floor with the dogs? Victory at helms deep does not belong to you, Théoden, horsemaster! You are a lesser son of greater sires...