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† Chp. XXVIII †

Chapter soundtrack: 'Zombie' by the Cranberries.

= cue the music

Aspects of this scene will be modified to suit the story.

† Chp. XXVIII †

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Fangorn groans at our presence as the fellowship trots through the old forest, myself bringing up the rear. Eomer stays a good distance infront, and let's just say that I'm not complaining. Besides, I need some space in order to let my thoughts gather.

To say that I'm dreading Isengard would be an understatement.

Yes, we may have conquered the valley and avenged the ents, destroying Sauron's little Uruk-hai farm whilst doing so, however that was never the fear.

Confronting the wizard in the tower was.

And now, thanks to old mate Gandalf, we will be doing just that.

My stomach stirs with anxiety, as I fail to evaluate the situation as a whole. How could the same wizard who raised my younger self, protecting me against the evils of the world and encouraging the independence and strength of my character be the same being who has caused so much death and destruction? How is it possible that an individual of such wisdom and compassion has given in to such evil?

So many innocent lives lost. So many families torn apart, villages burnt to ash, children both mentally and physically wounded, all due to the corruption of a single being.

A writhe of anger tears through my body as images of the past flash through my head. I shared my life with Saruman, informed him of my past, even cried in his arms as the memories seemed to burn a permanent hole into my mind. I trusted the wizard with my life. He was aware of the vulnerability and trauma in which these past events had ravaged through me, and despite this knowledge, Saruman has used his power in order to bring the same chaos into the lives of other innocent humans, other innocent children.

It felt like a flail to the gut.

Even the cheering of two beloved halfings cannot seem to pull me out of my tense state, as Merry and Pippin appear from the break of the trees, happily settled a top Isengard's broken wall.

"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" Merry calls out, proudly standing to his feet and pointing a stubby finger towards the looming tower.

There it is again, the writhe of dread.

"You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and smoking!" Gimli grumbles. The rest of the fellowship seems rather amused, well, all except Gandalf. I don't think Grandpa minded the absence of the Took.

"We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well earned comforts." Pippin replies, and Merry grins as wisps of smoke escape his mouth. "The salted pork is particularly good."

I guess this is the only time I'll ever see hobbits standing high.

"Salted pork?" Gimli repeats with interest and a surprisingly softer tone.

"We're under orders from Treebeard who's taken over management of Isengard." Merry announces.

"Orders to turn green." I mutter beneath my breath, following the others as I dismount my steed. We heave ourselves over the broken barrier and into the flooded court of Isengard. The water now sits just above my ankles.

We trudge forward as I once again bring up the rear. I notice a questioning glance from Aragorn, however I ignore the man and keep my head lowered, an attempt to make my presence barely noticeable.

For once, I actually want to keep away from the attention. Even the bare thought of standing close to Saruman makes my stomach heave.

If luck leans my way, I will remain invisible throughout this 'meeting'.

↚third person↛


"Young Master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stick and stone, I can master. But there is a wizard to manage here locked in his tower." Treebeard grunts, his ancient eyes brightening as he spots Robin, a reassurance that his little human is alright.

The fellowship trudge forward, the water thinning as they cautiously step foot onto the elevated base of Isengard's tower, Orthanc.

"Show yourself." Aragorn demands.

Eyes are drawn towards the large doors, as the hobbits take a timid step backwards. Tension builds as an aura of evil blankets the small group.

"Be careful." Gandalf utters, tightly gripping his staff. "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"Well then let's have his head and be done with it!" Gimli grumbles. Robin's jaw tightens.

"No, we need him alive. We must talk to him." Gandalf responds, and the hard impact of wood against stone creates a loud crack, as the doors to Orthanc are forcefully swung open.

Saruman steps into the sunlight, his cloak radiating white. However, the atmosphere darkens from the wizard's devious presence, evil dripping from his draped figure.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Theoden King, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend?" The corrupted wizard remarks, his booming voice causing terror to reside at the bottom of the halfing's stomachs.

"We shall have peace.." Theoden utters.

"We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there!" The king of Rohan seethes, rage smoking within the man's eyes. "We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!"

Saruman turns his gaze to Gandalf, a amused wisp of laughter escaping his mouth.

"What do you want, Gandalf Grahame? Let me guess, the key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the keys of Barad Dur itself?" He speaks with a bitter mock.

"Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's counsel." Gandalf claims, however he fails to speak through to the wizard.

"So you have come here for information, I have some for you." Saruman bellows, his eyes scanning across the fellowship. "You are all going to die! But you know this don't you Gandalf? 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."

Tension sits heavy as the wizard continues, Robin gritting her teeth as she remains hidden from Saruman's gaze.

"Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him, those he professes to love! Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? "

Silence arises at this statement.

"I've heard enough! Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob!" Gimli roars, glaring daggers into the wizard.

"No! Come forward Saruman and your life will be spared!"

"Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!" Saruman retorts, clutching his staff.

A second presence grabs the attention of the fellowship. Grima appears from behind the cloaked figure, fright and confusion evident in his expression.

"Grima! You need not follow him! You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan." Theoden calls out. "Come forward, be free of him!"

Grima looks towards the fellowship with hesitance, however a glimmer of opportunity sparks within his eye.

"Free? He will never be free!" Saruman remarks, and as the sickly man protests, the wizard spins around and nails his staff against Grima's pale cheek. "Get down cur!"

The onlookers wince as the man yelps, falling against the stone floor. Gandalf breaks the silence, once again beckoning Saruman to side with good.

However, with the wizard's back now turned from the fallen man, Grima stands to his feet. He leers towards Saruman, a blade raised and ready to strike.

An arrow to the chest is quick to send the man plummeting back down.

With great shock and confusion, the fellowship parts to reveal Robin, her bow held high as she tenses at the sudden exposure. Saruman looks upon the girl with a hint of surprise.

"Eretria Hood." The wizard remarks, and Robin cautiously lowers her bow to step forward.

With a racing heart and a wave of uneasy, she meets the eye of Saruman. The scenario resembles that of a timid child, as Robin holds a weary gaze, her feet bringing her closer to the wizard. Aragorn grips her shoulder in an attempt to prevent the outlaw from approaching, however she tears herself from his hold, her eyes remaining ahead as she continues to advance.

"Little bear, how you have grown to be a fine young woman." Saruman proclaims with a slight tilt of his head.

"I have no one to thank but you, Manny." Robin replies, halting before the first step. Saruman holds his arm out as a gesture for the thief to approach. She accepts.

The fellowship seem to hold their breath as anticipation lies thick within the air. Legolas sends Aragorn a concerned gaze, however the man seems to be just as bewildered.

Gandalf himself lowers his head in fear of what is to commence.

Saruman's frigid hand grips Robin's as she now stands within close proximity of the wizard, a sickly aura seeping around his figure. She fails to feel the same warmth in which such a gesture once brought to her. Instead, she can almost sense the burn of evil from his touch seeping its way into the veins of her arm.

Looking into his dark eyes, Robin no longer sees a wizard of strength and encouragement. She views reflections of a war ravaged village, the beheading of both human and elven soldiers, the spreading of immense flame throughout the homes of halflings. She views reflections of children scattered across fields of ash, dust lining their innocent faces as blood pools beneath their lifeless bodies. Her eyes gather the reflection of Boromir dropping to the ground as an arrow tears through his battered body.

A tear runs down her cheek as she brings herself back into the moment.

He is not the same being.

"So much character, so much strength..." Saruman utters as he observes his old friend. "Tell me, my child, why do you side with those who are destined to a fate of doom?"

"You rest a finger on her and I'll have ye head upon the blade of my axe!" Gimli gruffs, however his threats are silent to Robin, as she experiences the same sense of vulnerability in which she seemed to feel as a child.

Another tear runs down her face, however Saruman is not oblivious to the outlaw's softer side.

As a child, Robin would always seek comfort from vulnerability within the arms of the wizard, and he would never fail to rid her anxieties. He comforted the girl when ghastly memories would rear their ugly heads, teaching her how to resist the fear and trauma in which the mind bears upon it's body.

However, at this moment, the wizard is the cause of her vulnerability.

With clenched fists, the halfings watch on, fearing for the life of their beloved friend. Pippin closes his eyes, begging the heavens that Robin will walk away unharmed and free from corruption.

Not many have seen the great Robin Hood shed a tear, although standing infront of a person you hold close whilst feeling as though you're a stranger is enough to bring anyone undone.

"You know I care for you deeply, little bear." Saruman utters. "Have I ever lead you astray from the truth?"

"Never." Robin replies, tightening her grip on the wizard's hand.

"He will put her under a curse!" Legolas shouts, attempting to heave himself forward, however Theoden holds the elf back.

"Join with me, Eretria. Allow the power of Sauron to give you strength. These fools you side with are bound to death. They do not care for your safety, to them you are disposable. They view you as a thief, little bear. I view you as an opportunity for great strength." Saruman proclaims, pointing his staff towards the hesitant fellowship.

"Why you blood curdling-"

Gandalf silences Gimli with a hit to the ribs.

"Your words are poison, Saruman." Grahame retorts. "Robin holds the intelligence to see through your lies."

Saruman continues, ignoring the remarks of the white wizard.

"Together we can conquer the sins of the world. We can rid Middle Earth of greed, my child. We can allow children of poverty to grow into royalty. You can weild the power to be guardian of all races. Is that not what you seek, little bear?"

Robin holds her stance, her eyes scanning the wizard's for even a single hint of the Saruman she grew to admire.

The temptation is powerful.

She feels a slight sense of empowerment, however Robin is also aware that the words are directed by the devil himself.

Siding with the enemy would be the ultimate betrayal to her morals, however the power in which she could weild may have the ability to allow equality amongst the races. She could be the supreme guardian, capable of protecting the lives of all innocents. With the power of Sauron, Robin could even end poverty.

Her eyes trail down to the body of Grima which lays limp upon the stone floor, her arrow protruding from his chest.

She did that.

Robin's already spilled blood. She's already lost her innocence upon forces of evil. Is she not evil herself?

Does every act of evil have to lead to destruction? What if she can use the power of Sauron for good?

It's not like she has anything to lose.

Returning her gaze to Saruman, Robin grits her teeth, attempting to silence the voices within her mind as tears brim her eyes.

"Follow your instincts, my child." Saruman utters, the reference tugging on the outlaw's heart strings.

"I always will, Manny." She replies.

What happens next is quite unexpected.

Robin unsheathes her dagger and sends it plummeting into Saruman's chest.

Gasps emit from the fellowship, however the young outlaw is deaf to her surroundings, tears streaming down her flustered cheeks as she twists her blade. Saruman's staff falls from his grasp, shattering as it hits the stone floor.

The wizard slowly releases his grip from Robin's hand, his eyes wide with both shock and betrayal as choked breaths are all he manages to convey. For a split second, the young girl swears to have seen a glimpse of the enchanter she grew to know, causing even more sorrow to course through her shaking body.

Falling backwards, Saruman's draped figure topples to the cold ground, blood dripping from Robin's dagger as the outlaw keeps her gaze risen, refusing to look upon the wizard's departed body.

An uncontrollable flood of tears continues to pour down the young girl's face as she lowers her blade, pain and guilt digging it's way into the pit of her stomach. However, within a split second, her crying seizes. Instead, a hard expression replaces her features, one in which sits unfamiliar on the outlaws face.

Turning her body, Robin saunters down the steps, never once turning back to view the fallen wizard. A stone cold glare embeds her features, any form of warmth or life deprived from her gaze as she prowls through the fellowship, the posse parting to clear a path.

Loyalty is a lost word.

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So.... uhh... on a happier note, does everyone like Hood's new Christmas themed cover?

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