A/N: Hey, guys. I'm back! Yes, I know it has been almost a year, and for that I am stupendously sorry. However, I present you with another chapter in hope of winning your forgiveness. Here begins ROTK! And read and review, please!

Disclaimer: If I actually owned LOTR would I have to write fanfiction?

Ranelen

The return to Edoras had been much more subdued and quiet than the journey to Helms Deep. Few spoke. Any words that were shared were spoken in hushed, hurried whispers in fear of disturbing the atmosphere. Children did not play but kept close to their families. The elderly said nothing, looking out on the cold world which continued to take the ones they loved.

The arrival at Rohan's capitol had brought the first sign of true joy in days. Women shed tears of joy. The children which had fearfully clung to their mothers' skirts, ran shouting and screaming with the happiness of being home. The wind blowing across the thatched roofs and the glow of Meduseld in the sun gave smiles to all except the sternest elders.

Excitement merely increased upon King Théoden's decree that supplies should be brought out and prepared for a celebration. Immediately activity increased on the main road as people scurried to their homes to begin preparations. The heaviness that had hung over Rohan seemed to be taking the first steps to lifting.

It was at that moment that Gandalf had decreed that there was one piece of unfinished business to care of. With his usual fanfare, he'd called for Théoden and Aragorn, apparently assuming anyone else interested in the business of a wizard would follow.

True to his assumption the others the remnant of the fellowship followed with a shared, knowing glance. Eomer seemed to be confused, but he had sworn that he would follow his king, and follow he did.

That was how the company came to be riding through Fangorn Forest. Gandalf was remarkably close-mouthed about the venture, keeping his thoughts silent with a frown etched across his brow. Aragorn rode watchfully, taking in the forest around them. Legolas followed, silently appreciating the glorious nature of the ancient trees. Ranelen had attempted to ride last, but Eomer had protested, saying that it was his duty.

The statement was a little strange, for though Eomer was sworn to protect his king he would have a far easier job of it riding in the front and there was something in his expression and his tone as he spoke. It was as if he did not believe she should hold the defensive position. Gamling had seemed to uphold this stand, as he too had tactfully inserted himself in the rear.

It wasn't the time to quibble over the abilities of females, so Ranelen had brushed his attitude off and went to observing the forest. So much had changed since their previous trip into Fangorn. Before, the darkness had hung heavy on the trees. The ancient presence had watched every move. Now Gandalf rode at the head of the column with the king of Rohan behind him. There seemed to be streams of sunlight where once only darkness had hung.

The sound of nearby voices drew her from her thoughts, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw ahead. Pippin sat on a broken stone wall, laughing and smoking. Merry stood above him with arms thrown wide and a pipe in hand as he announced, "Welcome, my lords and lady, to Isengard!"

The party stopped in front of the wall, and though there was some distance between them, Ranelen knew Gandalf would be frowning in disbelief. Hobbits truly were incredible creatures. One moment they were capable of momentous bravery; the next moment they were feasting with no thought to the rest of the world.

"You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on… and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!"

Pippin had raised his pipe in salute while Gimli was speaking, but he hurried to justify their actions with a smile as he reasoned, "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good."

This is all Gimli needed to hear. The Dwarf asked in awe, "Salted pork?"

Ranelen nudged Vanyamin forward to sit beside Legolas. He was smiling as joyfully as she had ever seen. He turned to look at her, and the look sent a gentle warmth through her. If all days could bring such joy, she would be content.

Gandalf huffed at the Hobbits, even as Merry declared grandly, "We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard."

"And it is for this matter that we have come. Get down, and ride or follow. This business cannot wait any longer."

The two Hobbits scampered down with far more agility than their race traditionally held, and they ran to the other joyfully. Ranelen could not contain herself and slid off Vanyamin to be reunion. Upon the sight of her, the two friends shouted and ran to her, nearly causing all three to fall and Vanyamin to step away upset.

Ranelen wrapped her arms as far around the too as she could and pulled them close. "I have missed you two. Nothing's been the same."

They pulled apart, and Gandalf called, "Hurry, Hobbits. A wizard has matters to attend to that cannot wait."

"Come." Ranelen stood and made to take her horse's reigns. Vanyamin shook her head and danced to the side. There was a look in her eye that said, I let you ride, but I refuse to carry anyone else.

Merry and Pippin seemed to share the dislike. Both glanced nervously at the horse before Pippin said, "Well, that's alright. I've missed Aragorn. Maybe he'll offer me a ride." He gave Ranelen a smile before running to the Ranger. Merry followed suit, wishing his reunited friend goodbye before he ran to find a ride. Eomer extended an invitation, surprisingly.

Immediately Gandalf rode forward through a gap in the wall. Everyone else followed swiftly not willing to risk the further wrath of Mithrandir. The horses stepped down one by one into the mud and muck that Isengard had become. Everywhere lay stones cast aside and broken structures. The only things still standing tall were the tower of Orthanc and a tree.

There were several murmured curses from the Rohirrim as the tree was revealed to be an Ent which turned to them as they rode near. He said in a booming, slow voice, "Young master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come." He took several long strides to them saying, "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master." Treebeard stopped as the riders below did and cautioned, "But there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

Ranelen drew Vanyamin up between Aragorn and Legolas, looking to the tower above. Saruman had once been the wisest and greatest of the Istari. Now he was a fallen relic, an example of the corruption of power.

Aragorn apparently was tired of waiting on the old wizard's schemes. He commanded quietly, looking ever upward, "Show yourself."

Gandalf quickly silenced him. "Be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"Well, let's just have his head and be done with it."

"No, Gimli," Ranelen argued. "There is yet a purpose for Saruman in all this."

Mithrandir gave her a strange look before casting a glance over Gimli and looking ahead. "We need him alive. We need him to talk," he said sternly.

For a minute, only the sound of the river, lapping at the horses' legs was heard. Then a cloyingly sweet voice was heard from above.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King…" an old man emerged on top of Orthanc, no doubt Saruman, "and made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Saruman's words were poison. The words of Wormtongue were rough and uncultured to the fallen wizard's speech. His spell spoke of peace and contentment, hope for ending suffering at last. Ranelen felt enticing offer, but she heard the cunning beneath. She had suffered at the hands of a man like this, and the smooth lies of a snake held no charm for her.

However, Théoden seemed unsure. He declared strongly, "We shall have peace."

Ranelen and Aragorn glanced in surprise to the man, but Rohan's king continued loudly. "We shall have peace… when you answer for the burning of the Westfold… and the children that lie dead there! 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! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows… we shall have peace."

Saruman did not take well to the spurning of his invitation. "Gibbets and crows? Dotard!" His attention turned to Gandalf, and he smiled condescendingly. "What do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess. The Key of Orthanc. Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dur itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"

Gandalf sat unperturbed by the outburst. He said calmly, "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."

The other wizard now knew for what Gandalf had come, and his arrogance was apparent. "So you have come here for information. I have some for you." From beneath his robe he produced a black orb, burning with a fierce, internal light.

Ranelen had heard of such a thing. In her time with Elrond and Lady Galadriel she had read and heard stories of such a device: a Palantir. They had once been used by the kings of old for the aid of their kingdoms, but when darkness began to claim the Palantirs, kings fell into madness. Yet it seemed to whisper, to speak of impossible things. Future, past, present, dreams, victories, tragedies, losses, the beginning and the end.

It called out to Ranelen, a soft singing that she could feel twisting about her mind. It whispered of fantastic tales and truths that could be hers. And in the sweetest whisper of all, it offered her truth, her past. All she had to do was reach out-

"Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it."

Saruman's voice like that of one possessed was what drew her from the Palantir's snare. He replaced the Palantir and declared, "Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon."

Gandalf rode forward unruffled, a determined expression on his face as Saruman continued, "You're 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."

Aragorn looked up at Saruman coldly, but Ranelen saw the truth in his eyes. The cunning wizard knew just what to say to make Aragorn doubt himself. Saruman's words could be true, if Aragorn chose to believe them. They were only as real as his belief in them, but Saruman continued to twist his cruel lies.

"This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those 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? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."

Gimli finally did what everyone wanted to do for themselves. "I've heard enough!" he protested. "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob."

Ranelen's hand twitched toward her quiver, but she stayed her hand. How easily things could be ended, right there. One arrow in a vital part and death would be instant. However, Gandalf put an end to her idea, and Legolas' who shared her thoughts.

"No." He turned back to the other wizard and offered with lessening patience, "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!"

Suddenly a blazing ball of fire shot forth from the end of his staff and consumed Gandalf and Shadowfax. Vanyamin rose on her back legs and neighed angrily. Ranelen pulled the reins until the horse set back down, prancing nervously.

The fire dissipated quickly, showing an untouched horse and rider who looked annoyed. He announced calmly, "Saruman, your staff is broken"

At his words a light blazed the length of the staff, and it shattered in two. From behind, a pale man in dark clothing approached, one Ranelen recognized and who brought anger like a tempest to her heart. Vanyamin felt her anger and pawed the water, waiting for an enemy.

Théoden tried a different tactic. "Grima, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan. Come down."

"A Man of Rohan?" Saruman questioned spitefully. He questioned with hatred and contempt, "What is the house of Rohan, but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master. You are a lesser son of greater sires."

The King ignored him, attempting to plead with his previous advisor. "Grima, come down. Be free of him."

Saruman's face contorted with rage and hate. "Free? He will never be free." He turned to Grima and commanded, "Get down, cur!" as he struck him, sending the other man falling to the roof of the tower.

Gandalf apparently thought that Saruman was not beyond reaching, though Ranelen had become exhausted with the old wizard's games. "Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know."

"You withdraw you guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here."

All of a sudden the black form of Grima lurched forward, the blade of a knife glint from his hand. Just as swiftly, Ranelen nocked an arrow and sent it flying, straight through the hand of Grima Wormtongue. Though she held him responsible for the loss of every life at Helm's Deep, she would not kill him. He did not deserve an end to his pain. He needed to live with suffering, that his pain would not end in an easy death.

Everyone turned to look at her, but Ranelen had had enough. She rode forward and declared, "Enough! I am tired of your games, Saruman! You, greatest of the Maiar, are meant to aid the peoples of Middle-Earth in the fight against the Enemy, not seek to destroy them! You have doomed yourself by spurning your purpose! Aid us, or feel the wrath of all of the Valar!"

Saruman's face twisted with hate before settling into disdain. "And who is it that would threaten a Maia? It is the misbegotten mongrel, imprisoned by her own fears. What threat could you possibly bring against me?"

"I suffered at the hands of one such as you, and I have sworn to protect others from such a fate. If I have to tear apart every stone of Orthanc to reach you, I will, and I will end you. Now, answer me!"

"This is my answer, half-breed." Like a snake, his hand shot out and darkness crowded her mind.

Memories of her past swarmed her. The whippings. The cutting words. The fear. The pain. Every horrid remembrance of her time pressed at her mind as a blizzard, howling at the door. Yet she had had enough. She was tired of running, tired of pushing away her fear. The imprisonment in her own mind was at an end. The things that had once tormented her, she would fear no more.

Immediately sight returned. Ranelen blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, before looking to Saruman. With a calmness she had never felt before, the woman said, "Saruman, your time here has ended."

Terrible rage consumed him. He threw out his arm, as if to cast another spell, and instantly Legolas drew his bow, sending an arrow into his heart. Saruman looked down in horrified surprise before tumbling from the roof. His body flipped through the air prior to landing with a sickening thud on the spokes of a large wooden wheel. Saruman the Wizard was ended.

Gandalf did not fall to the disgust that held others. He said concernedly to Théoden, "Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike."

A groan was heard as the wheel began to turn, no doubt from its recently acquired weight. The body of Saruman was plunged into the murky water, but the Palantir rolled from his robe, landing with an unnatural weight.

Treebeard chose this moment to speak up. "The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees."

"Pippin!"

Aragorn's concerned voice drew her attention to where the small Hobbit was plunging through the water in pursuit of something. He reached into the murk and pulled out the Palantir. Gandalf made his way over as Treebeard declared, "Bless my bark!"

"Peregrin Took! I'll take that, my lad. Quickly, now."

Pippin unhappily handed the Palantir over which was stowed away in the folds of Gandalf's robes, and Ranelen knew this would not be the end of the issue. The curiosity of Hobbits had caused them no end of trouble. However, Pippin made his way back to Aragorn and mounted once more.

Ranelen knew there was one unfinished matter, one she was loathe to deal with. She asked Gandalf quietly, "What is to be done with Grima?"

Mithrandir looked back at the others and said, "The king will decide."

At that moment, Grima stumbled from the tower, clutching his hand and covered in blood. His face contorted with rage as he screamed, "You!" He came forward in a stumbling run, attempting to reach the one whose arrow was still stuck through his hand.

The feeling of the naked blade at his throat stopped him. With hatred burning in his eyes he looked up at the one who threatened him. Ranelen's expression was fierce and wild, the anger in her untamed. She pressed the blade an inch closer to his throat and declared coldly, "I have already saved your life and lived to regret it. Should it happen again, you will wish you had died at the hands of your master."

Wormtongue looked down in fear at the blade and took a step back. From behind, Théoden commanded, "Gamling, bind his hands. He will walk back to Edoras. There, his judgment will be made."

Gamling came forward to do the king's bidding, and soon Grima was tied with a trailing rope from the man's saddle. Gandalf turned Shadowfax and announced, "Our business here is completed. Let us return to Meduseld."

The group turn and began the journey back. Several times Legolas tried to speak to her, but each time Ranelen gave him a small smile to say, later. The thoughts and emotions that were filling her from the recent experiences were overwhelming, and she needed time to sort through how she felt and thought. One thing was for sure, something she had never thought possible. She felt free, truly free. The darkness which had hung over her, clouding her mind, was gone. All of her fearful memories were banished; they held fear no longer. The sadness and the pain would remain as long as she lived, but the fear was gone. She was free.

A/N: so, TADA! Another chapter! I'm so sorry it took me a year to update, but my life is consumed by school, work, and church. It leaves little time for writing! I'm also sorry to those who wanted more Legolas romance; there really wasn't any in this chapter. However, I have good news for the future. I have decided that in the new few chapters (not exactly sure how many but not TOO many) I will reveal her parents! Please read and review!