Chapter 49: Plots

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In which there is confrontation and cooperation

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In which there is confrontation and cooperation.

The back of Sara's neck crawled, goosebumps erupting over her skin and down her back as the door clicked shut behind her. She stood alone with Saruman in the small room, her tongue still pressed tightly to the roof of her mouth, gagging her. The wizard turned away from the door to face her.

"Miss Miller," he said, gesturing to a hard and uncomfortable looking chair set before a small round table adorned with a single burning candle. It was the only source of light in the small room. Sara didn't move, didn't take her eyes from the old man as he made his way around the table to sit in his own high backed padded chair several feet back from the table. The room was cramped and plain, bare save for the table and chairs, and resembled a large closet more than anything. Her eyes flicked around the room looking for a possible means of escape but there were no windows or doors except for the one they had entered through. As if reading her mind the wizard spoke.

"Set aside any foolish hope you may have of escaping my dear." His voice was stickily sweet but she could hear the sour note among the honeyed words. His tone did not vail his open threat. "You are here because I will it, and you and your party shall remain here until I allow you to leave. All I require from you is simple information. Give me that and you may go. I will no longer stand in the way of your quest, it matters little to me once I have what I came for." Sara glared at him unable to speak and unwilling to move. Saruman frowned. "Come be seated." She didn't move. He frowned.

"I had hoped not to resort to force, but if you insist." Her legs jerked her forward, propelling her to the chair like a marionette at the puppet master command. She thudded into her chair, her tail bone smarting with the violent collision as she regained control of her limbs. Saruman steepled his fingers in his lap. "Now, I shall release your tongue, but let us have no foolish cries for help. The guards who brought you here are well out of earshot and obey my command." Sara felt her tongue go slack and she swallowed gratefully, the odd panic of nearly choking dispelled. She glowered at Saruman. She had to be careful in this encounter. Clearly he was not playing to script anymore. Who knew what his ultimate motives were or where his true allegiances lie. His actions so far could only lead her to believe he meant trouble. Had he turned his skills to Sauron's will already? He was a wild card at this point, but perhaps, perhaps she could find out.

"What do you want here Saruman?" she asked coolly.

"I told you my dear, I have merely come to speak with you."

"Seems rather a lot of trouble just to talk," she said, trying to push away the dull pounding in her skull. She needed all her wits about her.

"You have no idea just how much... trouble I have gone through to meet with you after our regrettable little encounter in Rivendell," he said. Her arm tingled slightly as she remembered his vice like grip on her bicep as his nails had cut into her skin.

"What, you mean trouble other than ruining our peace negotiations with King Thranduil and getting the entire company arrested?" she spat acidly.

"Indeed. This is in fact my second attempt to bring you under my sway since then. The first attempt was lamentably less profitable and left you quite scarred."

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