Hiya! This is my first fic, so please be very nice to me! Or I'll set my hobbits on you! Lol.

A/N This used to be part of my story: the quota of Souls, but I really didn't like where it was going so I changed it.

Disclaimer- Own zilch. Nil, Nada! Nowt! Damn!

Summary- Saruman is resurrected and understandably wants to take control of middle earth. He begins to bring back old enemies and Gandalf is the only one that can stop him, howver he will need the help of the fellowship, plus a few friends to get into Orthanc! R+R

Prologue: The Gift and The Curse

Saruman caressed the face of his new orc. It was the first of many, and he was delirious to see it alive, the last ones had all died. Useless ragged sections of what they were to become. The fighting Uruk Hai. He stared around the narrow tower room, his hollow eyes taking in everything, including the dark palantir balanced on the pedestal. It would not be long now before Sauron wished to check on his progress. At even just the thought Saruman shuddered. Even great wizards felt fear, and tonight he had to attempt to do something no other had been brave enough to attempt. He wished to bargain with Sauron. Wormtoungue slunk into the room clutching his candle "wretched fool" thought Saruman "he only serves me for as long as it serves his own goals. I must keep my eye on him!" Wormtongue shuffled forward. "The wild men wish to speak with you, my lord. Will you see them?" Saruman glowered at Wormtongue "I thought I told you not to disturb me! I have important business with the Dark One tonight! Tell them to wait and I will call when ready" Wormtongue simply stared at him "GO" shouted Saruman. In the face of his anger, Grima instantly complied

Suddenly the palantir began to hum, the darkness within began to swirl around and Saurons eye appeared in the centre. Saruman steeled himself. He had to do what he had to do. He strolled towards the palantir and sat. The eye seemed to regain fire as it saw him "well?" said the cruel, black voice "what have you to report to me?" Saruman had to hold on for what seemed like the passing of an age before he could open his mouth "I have the orcs as you requested my lord" he said "excellent" said Sauron "send them straight to me!"

"well, there was the small fact, of the reward I requested!" said Saruman, it took all the power of his mind merely to force the words out. The eye seemed to blaze in extra brilliance and he thought for a moment he was doomed. But then the eye began to speak some words of the black tongue and Saruman lapped it up, remembering each word.

Later, After Saruman had finished speaking with Sauron he retreated to the tower of Orthanc, he took with him only a black dagger. Unbeknownst to him Grima followed him quietly up the steps. He hid behind a pillar, and could only watch in horror as Saruman shouted words which scalded his ears, and then plunged a black knife deep into his own heart. As he collapsed Grima was to shocked to do anything other than stare, so it was that Wormtongue witnessed Saruman standing back up again and pulling the knife from his chest, which bore no sign of a wound. He had made himself immortal. Wormtongue turned and fled back down the stairs, with the sound of Sarumans manic laughter following him. "Truly" he thought to himself, as he locked himself in his bedroom "he was working for a madman!"