The day finally arrived when they stopped in the plains right outside the city of Edoras.

Edoras, the Golden halls of Meduseld, was the capital of Rohan. It was built on a hill in the valley Harrowdale of the White Mountains. Here lived the Rohirrim, the horse masters, and in those halls sat King Théoden on his throne, one that had turned his back toward his own blood for puzzling reasons. Gandalf had told them that the King's mind was enslaved to Saruman's power in his attempt to take control over the land.

The five of them rode into Edoras and as soon as they crossed the border into the city Míriel felt a sense of shilliness. The people of Edoras were staring at the strangers as if they were ghosts that had come to haunt them, and Míriel didn't see a single person smile as they made their way up to the Golden Halls.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli muttered, and Míriel agreed.

They stopped in front of the Golden Hall and dismounted their horses. Aragorn helped Míriel down and she followed him up toward the gates that had opened, and a red-headed man exited the Hall followed by a small detachment. The five companions climbed the steps and met the man at the top.

Suddenly Gandalf started leaning heavily on his staff and made himself smaller, as if he wanted people to see him as a poor old man. He looked up to the red-headed man and smiled innocently. Míriel tried to contain her laughter as she now understood why Gandalf wanted to wear his grey cloak again; he wanted to hide his new self and trick the people of Edoras that he was still Gandalf the Grey.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," said the man. "By order of Gríma Wormtongue."

Gandalf nodded to his companions to surrender their weapons. Míriel did not want to enter the Hall completely unarmed, yet she had no choice and so she surrendered her sword and daggers to the people of Rohan.

The red-headed man nodded toward Gandalf staff, indicating that he wanted Gandalf to hand it over as well. Gandalf glanced at his staff and scoffed innocently.

"You would not part an old man from his walking stick," he said and looked at the man innocently.

If only it was a simple walking stick, however, the man seemed to fall for Gandalf's act and nodded before gesturing for them to follow him. Gandalf winked toward Aragorn as they followed the man into the hall, the Wizard leaning on Legolas' arm as an old man might need support.

As they entered the Meduseld throne room, it was quite dark, but the room was filled with people who were solemnly standing at the sides. The man who had led them inside bowed before the King. He stepped aside and now Míriel could finally get her first look at the King of Rohan. King Théoden looked as though he was at least a hundred years old with skin so pale it was almost grey, and his eyes looked as though he was blind. His hair seemed to not have been washed for months and every breath seemed to be a struggle. This was what Saruman had done to an otherwise younger man.

"The courtesy of your hall has somehow lessened of lately, Théoden King," Gandalf said loudly, making his voice echo through the silent hall.

Míriel saw how a pale man with black greasy hair leant in toward the King's ear and whispered something to him. This was Gríma Wormtongue, servant of Saruman, who held the King under the Wizard's spell.

"Why... should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" The King asked and his voice was so very frail and weak.

"A just question my leash," said Wormtongue and nodded, pleased that the King had repeated exactly what he wanted to hear. Gríma stood up to face Gandalf. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." He walked towards Gandalf while his poisonous words spat out of his mouth. "Láthspell I name him, evil news, evil guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf warned him. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and depth to spare with a witless worm." He pointed his staff toward Wormtongue warningly and it was now that they realised that he was still a very dangerous Wizard.

"His staff," Gríma said and backed away from Gandalf, fear evident in his cold eyes. "I told you to take the Wizard's staff!"

Five men hurried towards them and made their way to Gandalf. Legolas, Míriel, Aragorn and Gimli soon started fighting them while Gandalf peacefully walked towards Théoden, not being disturbed by the fighting around him. Míriel saw one of the men walking towards Legolas, but he soon laid on the ground, groaning and regretting that he ever tried to attack the Elf. All the men were soon unconscious or too tired to fight them anymore as the other people of the Hall watched Gandalf try to release Théoden from Saruman's spell with awe.

"Théoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows," called Gandalf and looked Théoden right in the eye. "Listen to me! I release you from the spell."

Théoden started laughing, staring at Gandalf with a smug grin on his face. Míriel frowned, it had not worked, Saruman's hold on the King was too strong.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey," Théoden said but his voice had changed. It was much darker now and when Míriel glanced at the people in the hall; they were terrified.

None of the people of Rohan knew that Gandalf had gone through a transformation that had made him more powerful than never. Gandalf removed his grey cloak suddenly and blinded everyone with his white light - including Théoden who squirmed in his throne. Underneath the grey coat had he hid his true self, for much longer than any one of them knew. This was Gandalf in his most true form, powerful, superior to all the other Wizards in Middle-earth.

"I will draw you Saruman, as you draw poison from a wound," Gandalf muttered. He was so focused now that nothing could stop him.

Théoden started twisting and turning in his chair as a young fair-haired woman suddenly appeared and tried to get to the king. She thought Gandalf was hurting him and Aragorn hurried to stop her from rushing to Théoden. The woman looked at Aragorn and then turned to the king again. From the look in her eyes, Míriel knew that she loved the king.

"If I go, Théoden dies," the king said, but it was Saruman's voice that came out of Théoden's mouth. Somewhere far away Saruman stood in his tower and controlled this poor man. The battle of King Théoden and Rohan, between two powerful Wizards who had once been allies, had begun.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf said harshly. "Begone!"

Théoden moaned as Saruman was drawn out of him. Míriel was in awe of Gandalf's power and she so wished that she could become like him one day. The king drew his first breath as a free man once more, before he started to fall slowly towards the ground from his high chair when he lost his balance. The maiden rushed to his aid and caught him in her arms before his body could fall too far. Míriel saw how his face slowly regained its colour and his eyes turned out to be blue. His hair was blonde and not at all as greasy and foul as it was before. This was a much younger and healthier man in front of them.

The King watched the girl with amazement and as if he hadn't seen her in forever. He obviously knew her, and she seemed very touched to see her king back as he once had been. The rest of the people in the hall were gaping in awe too and they must have regretted ever trying to stop Gandalf and his friends from entering the Golden Halls and freeing their king.

"I know your face," Théoden said to the girl, using his voice carefully and it did sound rather different than it did before. "Éowyn." The king turned his head towards Gandalf with a face of awe. "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again my friend," Gandalf said and smiled.

Théoden stood carefully with the help of Éowyn, leaning on her. He looked around the hall, looking at all of his subjects. His eyes gazed over Aragorn, Míriel, Gimli and Legolas and seemed surprised to have an Elf and Dwarf in his halls. Míriel wondered if he remembered anything that had happened during the time he had been possessed or if it had all been like a bad dream. He tried standing by himself and managed to stand tall.

"Dark have my dreams been of late," he said and examined his hands as if he had not used them for a very long time.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasp the sword," said Gandalf and nodded toward Háma.

Háma came hurrying toward the throne, he brought Théoden's sword forward and they all watched as the King grabbed the handle, pulled the sword out of its sheath as he had not done for a very long time. Míriel heard Gríma try to flee away from Gimli's grip, for Gimli had hit him before and then pinned him to the floor. Gríma failed, Gimli was too strong for him. It was then that the King realised who had been keeping him trapped all this time.

Two guards grabbed Gríma's arms and started dragging him out of the hall on Théoden's orders. The King walked right behind the guards as the doors opened again and sunlight hit Théoden's eyes, making him blink. Míriel was quick to follow the King out of the halls, the rest of the fellowship and Éowyn right behind her. The guards threw Gríma on the staircase to the eyes of all the people who had gathered when they had heard the cries of Gríma. Míriel stood right before the first step of the staircase next to Legolas and Éowyn.

"I've only ever served you, my lord," Gríma pleaded on his knees.

He was a liar though. Míriel wondered how long Gríma had served Saruman, how long he had been a traitor and a worm. He was a person who took orders from others and did not have the courage to do something of his own. Seeing him on his knees, pleading did hit a soft spot in Míriel's heart though. He was a coward, but did he really deserve to die or be banished forever?

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast" Théoden roared, and he still had his sword in his hand.

It really seemed as Théoden had sentenced Gríma to death at that instant, and Míriel understood his anger, he had after all been trapped in his own mind, someone else had been controlling him. It must have felt humiliating to be used as a puppet but executing someone like Gríma who was perhaps a coward, but not close to the evil of Sauron or Saruman, was wrong.

"Send me not from your sight!" cried Gríma and bowed his head to the King.

He was terrified to be killed or to be banished because he was surely frightened of Saruman. The Wizard would be furious if Gríma returned to him with this failure. Théoden readied his sword to kill Gríma, raised it up in the air. Aragorn suddenly rushed forward to stop the king's blade from swinging the fatal stroke.

"No, my lord! No, my lord!" Aragorn said and grabbed Théoden's hands; the king struggled a little before finally giving in to what Aragorn said. "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Théoden hesitated for a moment but then lowered his word slowly to the ground without touching Gríma the slightest. Aragorn moved closer to Gríma to help him up on his feet but Gríma spat on his hand since he did not want any help from the ranger. Though Aragorn had just saved his life Gríma could not find any gratitude within him to respect Aragorn. He scrambled up to his feet and started running, taking his chance to run away from Rohan and never come back. Gríma pushed through the packed crowd, and all of Edoras saw him at his worst.

"Get out of my way!" he yelled and finally reached the stable.

Gríma rode out of the stables, probably going straight back to his master Saruman. Míriel feared what the traitor could tell Saruman about Rohan, he would have had much information regarding the King now.

"Hail, Théoden King!" Aragorn said loudly and they all bent down to bow to the king. Aragorn kneeled all the way down to the ground.

"Where is Théodred?" Théoden asked after a moment of silence. "Where is my son?"

None had an answer to Théoden's question and after a tearful conversation with Éowyn, they found out that his son had died not long ago. The city began preparing for a funeral for the next day and King Théoden withdrew from the other's to mourn. This was a sad day indeed for the king had lost his son without even having the chance to say goodbye.