The last Míriel could remember was helping the Elves count their dead. She had gone away to get some water to drink as she was quite exhausted, and the next thing she knew she woke up in a strange place she had never been at before. At the top of a large tower with no walls and no roof, she laid on the bare floor.

Míriel blinked a few times and sat up quickly. As she turned around she saw the person she least expected to see. It was Gríma Wormtongue, and he stood there as pale and miserable as ever, looking at her.

"What are you doing here you snake?" Míriel hissed and backed away from him. "Where am I?"

"You are in Isengard, Lady Míriel," Gríma spoke in a hushed voice before hurrying toward her. "Tell, me, please. What happened in Helm's Deep? You succeeded, yes? The King, Éowyn, the people... are they safe?"

"Why would I tell you anything you want to know?" spat Míriel and backed away from him.

As she saw the desperate look in his eyes, she realised that he was a worm but a coward as well, and she pitied him. Gríma had been fooled just as so many Men had been before him, and his eyes told her that he truly cared what had happened to his people.

"They are safe," Míriel answered him quietly. "It was a great victory at the expense of many lives, yes, but the vast majority is well."

Gríma fell to the ground, crying and then thanked her over and over. Míriel did not know how to react and simply neared him carefully and placed her hand on his shoulder. Regret oozed out of him as if he had an open wound and she felt sorry for him. Gríma pulled himself together and stood up and gazed out over Isengard. Míriel moved to stand next to him and saw with her own eyes the result of their victory.

All of Isengard was covered in brown water and amongst the flooded areas there walked large trees. Not any trees, of course, but Ents, those who Gandalf had promised had taken care of Merry and Pippin. The mere thought of them made her believe that her keen Elven eyes cheated her when she saw two figures that greatly resembled the two Hobbits. They were sitting on a pile of stacked wood, leaning back and seemingly looking comfortable. But it could not have been them, surely?

Míriel smiled widely and a tear fell down her cheek as she realised that the two Hobbits were alive, and they were so close to her now. Míriel wanted to run to them, embrace them, kiss them, but then remembered that she was stuck in the highest level of Orthanc and realised what a mess she was in.

"What happened?" Míriel asked Gríma. "Why am I here?"

"The Ents rallied and are now in charge of Isengard," Gríma replied. "Saruman is in despair and is locked inside his own tower. A Dunlending man broke into Helm's Deep to collect you. I believe it is a last attempt to gain some sort of vindication."

"Wait..." Míriel said as she realised why Saruman would ever want her there.

She glanced down at her hands and turned toward Gríma. She raised her hand toward him and tried to make something happen to him, anything really, even move a strand of his hair with her gift - but with no success. Míriel glared up at Gríma and grabbed him by his collar.

"What happened to my powers?!" she yelled.

"My Master put some sort of spell on you when you were unconscious..." Gríma mumbled. "He said it was to stop you from trying to use your gift."

Míriel flinched as she heard footsteps approaching and so she let Gríma go. Saruman himself appeared as he walked up the staircase that lead to the top of the tower. Míriel did not know if to attack him or stand back so hurried to try and stun him with her gift in a stupid attempt to fight him. Saruman moved his staff swiftly and she was sent flying toward the ground...

"It's no use, Míriel," Saruman spoke. "Not in this weakened state that you are in. With me, however, I can make you strong again. Your gift is in my hands now, and if you join me you will see it returned to you."

"You know I would never betray everyone I know," Míriel spat. "I am not like you; I am no coward."

"Well..." Saruman said and laughed wickedly as he stepped closer to her. "Perhaps you will change your mind at this; I can tell you who you really are. I have gazed into the Palentír and together Lord Sauron and I have discovered your true identity, Míriel, the Maiar. Or shall I say, Ilmarë?"

Míriel widened her eyes - that was the exact name that Haldir had called her before he passed. This meant that someone else had discovered what her Maiar name had truly been and who else could it be if not Galadriel? Míriel did not need Sauron or Saruman as long as her grandmother was by her side.

"At our side you could become as powerful as us, Ilmarë," Saruman said with a grin. "We are kin, and you have seen the power of Sauron with your own eyes. He will grant you even more power than you had before."

"I will never join you!" Míriel hissed again. "No matter what you offer me!"

"Oh, how foolish you are," Saruman scoffed. "Do not think that you are as good as the rest of your companions, Ilmarë. Have you not yet realised why you are not like the rest of them; why you are not like Gandalf? Why he could never teach you to become anything like him? It is because you were born to become a dark Maiar, you were destined to serve the likes of Morgoth, and now Sauron. The very reason you cannot remember your old life is because your fate is to serve the darkness and join the new Middle-Earth."

Even though Míriel knew, deep down, that Saruman was lying to her, she could not help but be swayed by his words. Could it be true? No one knew why she had been reborn as an Elfling and not as an old human like the other Istari had been, and could this be the reason why? Was Míriel never destined to be good, like the others, but rather evil like Sauron? No, Míriel could not believe it, not as long as she had a free mind of her own.

"I will never join you, coward," Míriel spoke through gritted teeth.

Saruman looked as though he would curse her but before he could, they both heard voices approaching. Saruman frowned and turned his head toward the voices. Míriel did the same and smiled happily as she saw her companions approaching on horseback. It was Gandalf at the very front with Aragorn and Legolas on his side and behind them Théoden, Éomer and Gamling. Merry rode with Gamling and Pippin with Aragorn and Míriel could hear their voices clearly even from the distance. Soon they were standing right below the tower which made it difficult to see them if one did not stand by the very edge.

"Young master Gandalf," said a very dark and low pitched voice, and every word boomed out of its mouth. "I'm glad to talk. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower."

Míriel gasped as she realised that it must have been one of the Ents. Saruman gestured toward Gríma who charged forward and help Míriel in place by grabbing her by the arms and locking them behind her back.

"Show yourself," Aragorn voice said in a much lower tone and Míriel hoped that they knew that whatever they said Saruman would hear too.

"Be careful," Gandalf warned them all with bitterness in his voice. "Even at defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"Then let's just have his head and be done with it," Gimli said in his same nonchalant spirit as always.

"No," Gandalf shook his head. "We need him alive. We need him to talk."

Míriel saw how Saruman started moving toward the edge of the tower and gestured for Gríma to follow with Míriel. She was to act like his assurance that he wouldn't be killed since Gríma had Míriel and could very easily push her off the edge.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden king and made peace afterwards," Saruman said as he stepped out of his hiding to show himself. "Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace you and me?"

Míriel could now see her friends clearly and she locked eyes with Legolas. He flinched as he saw that she was taken captive by Gríma and placed his hand on his bow. Míriel shook her head though, telling him to not shoot because Gandalf needed Saruman's information to proceed.

"We shall have peace," Théoden said with venom spitting out of his mouth. "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 hum even when as lay dead at the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet, for the sport of your own crows - then we shall have peace."

"Gibbets and crows," Saruman muttered, and his eyes had turned dark with anger toward Théoden. "Dout!" The King had only spoken the truth though, it was foolish of Saruman to think that he could be forgiven so easily. Not after everything he had done to the people of Middle Earth. "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?!"

"You treachery has already cost many lives," Gandalf said loudly and looked up at Saruman calmly. "Thousands more are not at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council."

"So you have come here for information?" Saruman said and smiled. "I have some for you." Saruman brought forth a pollentia, a dark blue crystal ball. Míriel stared at it and quickly understood that it was through that pollentia that Saruman managed to contact Saruman and see into his plans. "Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. The great eye has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon... You are all going to die."

Gandalf rode closer to Orthanc, not letting his eyes leave Saruman as he spoke. Míriel did not understand what Saruman had meant of what festered in the heart of Middle Earth, but whatever he said had scared the Hobbits. Hopefully, Gandalf would know better but showed no indication of doubt nor knowledge at this new information.

"But you know this, don't you Gandalf?" Saruman continued. Míriel glanced at Gandalf to see his reaction, but the Wizard was quite calm with a straight expression on his face. "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! 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."

"I've heard enough!" Gimli said.

Gimli turned to Legolas suddenly and whispered, "Shoot him, stick an arrow in his gap!" Legolas reached for an arrow while looking at Saruman. He placed the arrow on the bowstring but waited for orders from Gandalf instead.

"No!" Gandalf said and shook his head toward Gimli and Legolas. "Come down Saruman! And your life will be spared!"

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

Saruman shot a globe of fire toward Gandalf, making Míriel throw herself toward the dark Wizard but being stopped by Gríma. The fire seemed at first to have hit Gandalf, but his newly gained power seemed to have the upper hand and it devoured Saruman's fire easily. Saruman realised that he was no longer the leader of the Istari, and that Gandalf was more powerful than he was or had ever been.

"Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf said as Saruman's black staff suddenly burst into millions of pieces.

Saruman's look of surprise and fear made a smile spread over Míriel's lips. Finally, justice was going to be served and Saruman had no power left. Míriel literally felt her hands warm as if her gift were returned to her, now that Saruman was weak.

"Gríma!" Théoden called.

Míriel turned around and saw that Gríma was hesitant, glancing at his former King.

"You need not follow him. You were not always as you were now, you were once a Man of Rohan! Come down..." Gríma hinted a smile and bowed to Théoden, perhaps he did deserve a second chance...

"A Man of Rohan," Saruman repeated and snorted like that was something to be ashamed of. "What is the house of Rohan, but a barn where driggins drink and reek. The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse Master. You are a lesser son of greater Sires."

"Gríma," Théoden said, ignoring the foul words that Saruman had been saying to him. "Come down, be free of him."

"Free?" Saruman bellowed. "He will never be free."

"No," Gríma called, and his voice was weak.

Míriel saw in the man's eyes that he had decided to re-join the right side of this war and go against Saruman. Gríma belonged in Rohan with his people and had come to realise it now. With the promise of being pardoned, there was nothing left for Gríma in Isengard. Míriel smiled toward him faintly, indicating that he would be forgiven for his horrible deeds.

"Get down!" Saruman hit Gríma across the face so hard that he fell to the ground.

Míriel gasped and hurried to Gríma's side. Gríma had been beaten like a hound and blood was flowing from his mouth. He sat up slowly again and he grabbed Míriel's hand.

"Saruman!" Gandalf called again to get his attention away from the poor Gríma. "You were deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know."

"If you withdraw you guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided," Saruman said and nodded. "I will not be held prisoner here."

Before Gandalf even had the time to respond, Gríma had thrown himself at Saruman with a dagger in hand and stabbed the Wizard numerous of times in the back. Every stab was filled with such anger, and Saruman merely gasped in shock and pain. Míriel hurried to stop Gríma since Saruman was as good as dead, but before she had time an arrow pierced through Gríma's chest. Gríma cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Míriel surprised herself by feeling saddened by Gríma Wormtongue's pain, because of all that he had done. Míriel hurried to his side, but Gríma died quickly and there was nothing she could do. The arrow in his chest was Legolas' and Míriel knew that he had shot it to try and save Saruman.

Míriel stood up and looked over the edge as Saruman fell to his death. He landed on a large wheel with wooden spikes sticking out of them, one of the poles impaling him through his chest and killing him instantly. Míriel gasped slightly since it was not a pretty sight.

"Send word to all our allies," Gandalf said and turned to his companions. "Into every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us, we need to where he will strike!"

The wheel started moving all of the sudden, taking Saruman with it as it went under the water. The pollentia fell out of his sleeve and into the water, while its master disappeared. Míriel was certain that she would never see him again, and she felt saddened that it had come to that. Saruman, who should have been an ally, had become one of their greatest enemies.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away," said the End and nodded, seemed pleased by this. "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees, wild trees."

"Not to interrupt!" Míriel bellowed. "But I have no idea how to get out of here!"

Her words made her companions laugh. Aragorn and Éomer made their way up to the highest tower as quickly as they could and helped Míriel down to the ground again. As soon as she stepped into the water she felt all eyes upon her, and she did not know what to say.

"Are you well, Míriel?" Gandalf asked her carefully.

"I am," she said and nodded. "Saruman blocked by gift in some way and attempted to sway me to join their side. I refused, of course."

Suddenly Pippin jumped off his horse and waded across the waters toward her. Míriel first thought that he wanted to embrace her but realised that his attention was elsewhere. He grabbed something from the bottom of the water and brought it up to the surface. It was Saruman's pollentia, the wickedness he'd used to contact Sauron.

"Bless my bark!" said the Ent surprised.

"Peregrin Took," Gandalf said. Pippin turned around and stared up at the wizard, holding the pollentia against him like he didn't want to let it go. "I'll take that, my lad. Quickly now."

Pippin looked at Gandalf with a strange look in his eyes before reluctantly giving the pollentia to Gandalf. The wizard grabbed the pollentia quickly and hid it under his cloak, and Míriel did not like the looks that were exchanged as they moved along.

*

Míriel walked into onto the steps to the Golden Hall for they were back at Edoras. The Elves that had survived had already left for home since they no longer wanted to see their dead, but Théoden had promised to deliver the bodies to Rivendell and Lothlórien before long.

Míriel walked up the staircases, Gandalf in front of her and Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli behind her. They had returned from Isengard not long ago and Míriel was desperate for some rest.

"I am glad to see you again, my Lady," Éomer said and grabbed Míriel's arm gently to make her walk next to him.

"So am I," Míriel said and smiled.

"Míriel!"

Míriel did not even have time to realise who was hugging her until she had wavy blonde hair in her face. She chuckled as she realised that it was Éowyn and embraced her friend tightly. Éowyn glanced into Míriel's eyes and smiled widely.

"Come, we need to get you cleaned up before the feast."