Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli found themselves standing at the front entrance of The Golden Hall in the city of Edoras, in the realm of Rohan. There were several guards patrolling the area. Gandalf and Aragorn began to climb up the steps, with Legolas and Gimli following from behind.

When they arrived at the hall door, a tall, bearded guard, by the name of Háma, approached them.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden king so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of... Gríma Wormtongue."

Gandalf nodded and the company handed over their burdens.

"Your staff." snarled Háma.

Gandalf refused. "Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

Háma was deep in thought. He gazed back at Gandalf and allowed him and the rest of the company to enter the hall. As they entered, they noticed that the interior was cold and barren.

An old and feeble king was seated upon a golden throne. Standing beside the king, was a pale, grotesque, man. His name was Gríma Wormtongue.

"My lord." Gríma hissed into the Kings' ear. "Gandalf the Grey is coming. He is a herald of woe."

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." said Gandalf, as the wizard and his party were marching towards the throne.

"He is not welcome." sneered Gríma.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" asked Théoden, in a sluggish voice.

Gríma stood up. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf roared. "Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm."

Gríma peered behind Gandalf's shoulder, looking over at Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. "I thought you had another companion travelling with you."

The three stared at each other in confusion. "What are you talking about?" asked Aragorn, who was growing suspicious. "We had no other companion."

"I thought you did." Said Gríma, suspiciously. "You three represent the Free People of Middle-Earth: Elves, Men, and Dwarves, am I not correct? Ah, wait a minute, let us not forget...Hobbits."

"He speaks of Frodo." Legolas murmured in Aragorn's ear.

"There were no Hobbits accompany us." Aragorn lied. He gave Gríma a sharp look.

Gríma kneeled back down beside Théoden. Théoden mumbled something in his ear.
Gríma got back up and raised his left hand in the air.

"Théoden had a dream last evening." He said, in a snakelike voice. "A dream, I tell you. And in that dream he saw...a girl. A beautiful young girl. With hair as brown as the roots of trees, skin as fair as winter."

Legolas whispered in Aragorn's ear again. "He knows of Brianna's presence."

"Brianna." Gandalf muttered under his breath.

"Whom do you speak of, wizard?", asked Gríma, who had become impatient. "Speak!"

"Enough of this foolishness, Gríma!" Gandalf thundered. "Time to pay for your actions!"

All of a sudden, the white wizard raised his tall, magical staff in the air.

"His staff!" cried Gríma. "I told you to take his staff!"
Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli began to fight off the guards.

Gandalf approached Théoden and Gríma with his staff pointed directly at them. A beam of light flashed in front of them. Gimli ran up to Gríma and pinned him down to the ground.

"I would stay still if I were you." he cautioned.
Gandalf raised his hand and shouted, "Harken to me! I release you from the spell!"

Théoden laughed, maniacally. "You have no power here Gandalf the Grey!"

Suddenly, Gandalf removed his old robes and a bright, white light shone throughout the castle. Théoden leaned back in his throne, in complete shock.

"I will draw you, Saruman! Just like poison is drawn from a wound!"

Théoden violently squirmed around in his golden throne.

"If I go, Théoden dies!"

Gandalf pointed his staff at him once more.
"You did not kill me...You will not kill him!"

"Rohan is mine!"

"Be gone!"

Théoden flew backwards. Saruman was finally removed from the king. There was life growing in his face again. Thèoden was free from Saruman's wicked spell.

"Gandalf?" He asked, in a croaky voice.

"Hello, my friend of old." Gandalf greeted Théoden, courteously.

"What are you doing here, Gandalf? What brings you here to the kingdom of Rohan?"

"I have come to warn you that there is an enemy rising in the east." replied Gandalf.

"What enemy do you speak of?"

"The wizard, Saruman, has become Sauron's weapon for world domination. Mordor is becoming stronger than ever! Your fingers would remember their old strength better - if they grasped your sword."

The guard, Háma, brought over the Kings' sword and handed it to him. Théoden examined the sword and peered over at Gríma, who was still lying down on the cold, stone floor. He was thrown out of the great hall violently and tossed and tumbled down a flight of stairs.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" He yelled. Théoden took his sword and pointed it directly at Gríma's throat.

"No, my lord!" Aragorn ran up to the king and warned him. "Enough blood has been spilt on his account. Let him go."

Gríma got up from the ground and stumbled through the crowded city.

"Hail, Théoden, King!" praised Aragorn.