(NOTE: this has been knocked together in haste, with only minimal editing and cuts. As is, this scene runs about 40 minutes, and could be probably cut down to 30 w/o feeling rushed. The corresponding sequences in TTT-M run circa 18 minutes total.
|TRANSCRIPT OF TTT-M, TE
(NOTE: this has been modified from the one posted at www.stupidring.com; by kind permission of their webmaster. Please note that this does not in any way represent their endorsement of my views. The hard work this team has done in annotating the film scripts with textual references is well worth your time.)
|[Gandalf and the Three Hunters ride up to the gates of Edoras and are
halted by the hostile guards:]
[gesturing at their mounts]
Long have we kept guard here, and we have watched you from afar.
Aragorn: [bemused and troubled]
[the Guards all look suddenly shifty and nervous]
[raising an eyebrow, in the tone of someone giving a possibly-friendly confidence]
--Maybe your coming was not wholly unlooked-for. Two nights ago Wormtongue came to us and said that by the will of Théoden, no stranger should pass these gates.
Gandalf: [grim smile]
[gesturing to the others in turn]
And here beside me is Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir of Kings, and it is to Mundburg that he goes. Here also are Legolas the Elf and Gimli the Dwarf, our comrades. Go now and say to your master that we are at his gates and will have speech with him, if he will permit us to come into his hall.
First Guard: [frowning]
[he turns and hurries up to the great hall, leaving the four riders
waiting before the still-suspicious guards.]
[CUT to a glimpse of the forces in the Westfold getting trounced, Erkenbrand being forced to retreat, Gamling trying to pull his men together against the onslaught of Wolf-cavalry - 45 seconds max]
[Edoras - the Guard returns]
First Guard: [serious]
[they dismount, leaving their horses with the sentries, and follow him through the sleeping city (10 - 15 seconds of smooth cuts]
[he turns and hurries back down the hill to the gates as they go up to the guards with their green jeweled swords held out hilt-first in sign of peace]
Háma: [dignified and alert, as befits a high-level secret
service agent on diplomatic duty]
[Legolas hands over his knife, bow, and quiver]
[Háma looks startled and quickly sets down the weapons]
[Aragorn is glaring with folded arms]
[the Doorwarden gives him just as stern a Look back]
Háma: [still polite but very edged]
[Gandalf makes an exasperated exclamation]
Gandalf: [to Aragorn, Master to Apprentice tone]
Háma: [getting less patient]
[Gimli sets his hand on the head of his axe, fiercely]
[the Doorwarden and his colleagues draw their own swords in a standoff]
[he unbelts Glamdring and hands the blade over in an obvious setting-a-good-example way]
Here at least is my sword, goodman Háma. Keep it well. Glamdring it is called, for the Elves made it long ago. Now let me pass. Come, Aragorn!
[he nods emphatically to the Ranger, who does so with obvious reluctance, and stands it up against the wall of Meduseld]
Háma: [uncertain and starting to be impressed]
[he bows his head slightly]
It shall be, lord, as you command.
[he lays it down on the floor by the others' gear]
Háma: [to Gandalf, hesitant]
[the wizard snorts disgustedly]
I am old. If I may not lean on my stick as I go, then I will sit out here, until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak with me.
Aragorn: [wry, "give us a break" tone]
[Háma looks at them shrewdly, not fooled by the patter]
Yet, in doubt . . . a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom.
[looking at them seriously: this is more than his job, it's his life - and his people's - he's laying on the line by taking this chance on them:]
I believe you are friends, who have no evil purpose. --You may go in.
[Edoras interior (ca 30 seconds, grand but minor-key rendering of the Rohan theme, French Horns and bass woodwinds) camera does our sightseeing: the carvings, the hangings, the space of light in the midst of the shadows - the tapestry of Eorl on Felarof]
Aragorn: [pointing, enthusiastic whisper]
[We will see this image later, brought to life on the Pelennor. They continue down the great hall past the hearth and approach the dais - another 10-15 seconds of lavish prop work given its due. There we see the bent old lord of the Eorlingas with his long white braids and snowy beard, slumped in his chair (quite possibly of the faldstool type reflecting nomadic aspects of culture), his face crumpled and withered with years of disappointment and failure and ill-health, while behind him stands his faithful attendant (Eowyn) in her white dress with belt of silver links (not exactly Viking, but somewhat modeled on the images of Viking costume, with tabard style front and "turtle" brooches on the shoulders, too.) At Theoden's feet kneels his devoted right-hand man, ready to provide moral support and good advice (ahem) - a smooth, middle-aged chap, neat and tidy in embroidered tunic and folded cloak, with a knowing, cynical expression: change the outfit and he'd fit right in at any board meeting or ministry office...]
[Théoden gets up, leaning on his cane; he is taller than one would expect seeing him hunched in his chair]
Théoden: [very bitter and ironic]
[speaking deliberately to wound]
I will not deceive you: when I heard that Shadowfax had come back riderless, I rejoiced at the return of the horse -- but still more at the lack of the rider--
[Gandalf suppresses a wry smile]
--and when Éomer brought me the tidings that you had gone at last to your long home, I did not mourn.
[this cold dismissal causes a pained reaction among the Three Hunters, remembering their friend's death; the King goes on with a humorless smile]
But news from afar is seldom sooth. Here you come again! And with you evils worse than before, as might be expected. Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow? Tell me that.
[he sits down again slowly]
Gríma: [pained tone]
[seguing seamlessly into caustic scorn]
--Such is the hour in which this wanderer chooses to return. Why indeed should we welcome you, Master Stormcrow? Lathspell I name you, Ill-news; and "ill-news is an ill guest," they say.
[no sign whatsoever in his voice that he's just described himself, he's full of moral indignation, getting hotter as he goes on:]
What aid have you ever brought, Stormcrow? And what aid do you bring now? It was aid from us that you sought last time that you were here. Then my lord bade you choose any horse that you would and be gone; and to the wonder of all you took Shadowfax in your insolence. My lord was sorely grieved -- yet it seemed that to speed you from the land, the price was not too great.
I guess that it is likely to turn out the same once more: you will seek aid rather than render it. Do you bring men? Do you bring horses, swords, spears? That I would call aid; that is our present need.
[gesturing towards the Hunters as he tosses his head in scorn]
But who are these that follow at your tail? Three ragged wanderers in grey and you yourself the most beggar-like of the four!
Gríma: ["aha!" tone]
It is not to be wondered at: webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.
[Gimli starts forward, but Gandalf puts a hand on his shoulder and he stops at once, perfectly still but alert and ready as if coming to attention]
The wise speak only of what they know, Gríma son of Galmod. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls.
[He raises his staff. Thunder rolls, darkness covers the windows, blotting out the morning light. The fire dies down to a dull red glow, leaving only Gandalf clearly visible as he stands before Théoden, radiant with power]
[one of Gandalf's trademark flashes, like lightning coming right through the roof of the hall. Wormtongue is slammed down on the floor and does not move]
[raising his staff and pointing at a window - the storm is clearing and blue sky can be seen. Earnest:]
Not all is dark. Take courage, Lord of the Mark, for better help you will not find. No counsel have I to give those that despair. Yet counsel I could give, and words I could speak to you. --Will you hear them? They are not for all ears. Come out before your doors and look abroad. Too long have you sat in shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings.
[Théoden slowly gets up. Eowyn hurries over to take his arm. Leaning on her and on his stick both, he works his way down the dais, past Wormtongue lying still on the floor. The light grows slowly brighter again as they progress slowly through the hall to the great doors. Gandalf bangs on them with his staff]
[the doorwardens haul the doors open from outside. Wind blows in, whistling through the pillars as they all go out onto the porch. We see that the darkness was a natural storm - this is a very important point - which is now blowing over, leaving the sky clearing and rain off in the distance on the plain below]
[to Éowyn, reassuringly]
And you, lady, leave him a while with me. I will care for him.
[Éowyn hesitates, though the guards obey at once]
[he lets Gandalf lead him out to the edge of the platform, as Éowyn goes inside, still uncertain, but more curious about the strangers than worried, her eyes lingering on Aragorn...]
Gandalf: [gesturing to the plains]
Gandalf: [gently but earnestly]
[the cane falls from Théoden's hand with a clattering sound. Slowly and painfully the King straightens, until he stands tall and proud once more. The camera tracks in to focus on his eyes, bright in the wrinkles of his face, and the visual imagery of the panorama is like a mirror: the blue of the sky, the white clouds, and the sunlight shining through the rain are reflected in the blue of his eyes, the white of his braids and the gleam of the diamond on the old chief's headband]
Théoden: [taking a deep breath]
I would now that you had come before, Gandalf. For I fear that already you have come too late, only to see the last days of my house.
[his tone is not self-pitying but fatalistic, resigned to the end of his people and their way of life]
Not long now shall stand the high hall which Brego son of Eorl built. Fire shall devour the high seat.
[he looks at Gandalf again]
What is to be done?
Gandalf: [wry smile]
[louder, to the Riders on the stairs below]
--Call Háma to me.
Since he proved untrustworthy as a doorward, let him become an errand-runner. The guilty shall bring the guilty to judgment.
[belying his authoritarian words, he smiles at Gandalf, looking much younger as he does. One of the guards goes to fetch Háma from below.]
[leans over and whispers quietly to Théoden, who looks more and more impressed and excited, and then stands up and walks across the terrace with Gandalf, facing the Eastern horizon]
[they all look eastward, off towards Mordor, as the scene ZOOMs across Rohan, past the end of the mountains and over the Anduin to where the borders of the Dark Lord's land tower overhead]
|<Scene: Gandalf and the companions ride toward
Edoras, as Edoras comes into view they halt.>
(Shot of the throne and Eowyn kneeling by Theoden.)
(Return to Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli on their horses.)
(They ride on.)
<Scene: Theodred's room. Theodred lies dead, and Eowyn holds his hand and cries.>
(Eowyn rises and backs away from the bed.)
(He rises and approaches her.)
When all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you. A hutch to trammel some wild thing.
(He touches her cheek.)
So fair. So cold. Like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill.
(She leaves the room.)
(Eowyn runs out to the veranda and sees riders approaching. A gust pulls a flag from it's pole and it is carried on the wind. It falls to the ground near Aragorn as he reaches the gate to Edoras.)
(The villagers are dressed in black. They look forlorn as the riders come through town.)
(The companions reach the top of the stairs at Meduseld and are greeted by Hama and other guards.)
(Everyone surrenders his weapons.)
(Hama nods and lets them go in. Gandalf winks at Aragorn. Legolas gives Gandalf his arm for support. They walk into the hall. As they approach the throne, Grima is sitting next to Theoden.)
Grima: (Speaking into Theoden's ear)
Grima: (Rising) A just question my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell I name you. Ill-news is an ill guest.
(Grima's lackeys move toward Gandalf. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli intervene and knock them down.)
(He places a foot on a crawling Grima.)
(Gandalf approaches Theoden.)
(During this exchange, Theoden's voice resembles that of Saruman.)
Theoden: (With a wicked laugh.)
(Argh!-Gandalf throws off his gray cloak.)
Gandalf: I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound.
(Eowyn runs toward Theoden, but Aragorn stops her.)
(Theoden stiffens and Saruman slides across the floor of Orthanc, a black mark is on his forehead. Back in Meduseld, Eowyn runs to Theoden. Theoden begins to lose the look of extreme age.)
(Wrinkles disappear, and Theoden's eyes clear.)
(Turns to look in front of him.)
(Theoden stands carefully, looking unsure.)
(Hama brings him his sword. Theoden pulls it from its scabbard. He stands
taller, and then looks around. His eyes land on Grima who shudders.)
[SEGUE down across the great distance still lying between the Black Gate and where we see Frodo, Sam, and Gollum toiling through the marshes from above like water rats creeping through the tall reeds under the steamy air. (10/15 seconds max)]
|[the camera (sfx) sweeps back towards Rohan, over the fields
to Meduseld, and zooms in on the Company gathered in front of the doors.
Théoden sits down, his age coming back upon him, and looks sadly
back up at the Golden Hall.
Alas for Boromir the brave! The young perish and the old linger, withering.
[his shaky hands grip his knees]
[the King stands up again and reaches for his sword, but recalls that he isn't wearing one]
[they turn and see him standing at the top of the stairs with Háma. He is in his shirt-sleeves and somewhat disheveled, but his expression is alight. Holding out his sword, he comes forward and kneels before Théoden]
It was ever at your service.
[raising his hand in a slight shrug]
Yet, since he was free again, and he a Marshal of the Mark -- I brought him his sword as he bade me.
[long pause - silhouette shot of the King standing, Éomer kneeling looking up at him, the bare blade resting on his palms, with the hall to one side, this view of the upper tier emphasizing the feeling of height over Edoras (hold for about 5 seconds)]
[Théoden slowly reaches out and grasps the proffered hilt: as his fingers close around it, the trembling of his hand stops, muscles tighten and tendons rise in his forearm, and he suddenly lifts it, raises it high and swings it so that the edge whistles and the metal catches the light. He shouts in joy at his liberation]
Théoden: [calling out from the hilltop]
[the Guards come running back up the stairs, thinking it's an emergency, drawing their swords. They see Théoden restored and stop in shock. Thrilled, they fall to one knee before him, offering their blades]
[to Gandalf, with a fierce grin]
Never again shall it be said that you come only with grief!
[the King lowers the blade and graciously returns it to Éomer, hilt-first]
[to his Doorward, stern]
Go, Háma, and seek my own sword! Gríma has it in his keeping. Bring him to me also.
Now, Gandalf -- you said that you had counsel to give, if I would hear it. What is your counsel?
Gandalf: [wry smile]
[gesturing down to Edoras below, then up to the mountains behind them]
Meanwhile your people that are left, the women and the children and the old, should fly to the refuges that you have in the mountains prepared against just such an evil day as this. Let them delay not, nor burden themselves with treasures, great or small. It is their lives that are at stake.
Théoden: [nodding thoughtfully]
[to the Companions, apologetic]
But you my guests -- truly you said, Gandalf, that the courtesy of my hall is lessened. You have ridden through the night with neither sleep nor food, and the morning wears away. A guest-house shall be made ready.
Do not delay when we are gone. Lead your people swiftly to Dunharrow!
Guards: [excited, cheering among themselves]
Gandalf: [to Théoden]
[as Háma comes out of the hall, followed by two arresting officers with Gríma cringing between them, flinching at the sunlight.]
Here comes my counsellor.
[the Doorwarden kneels and holds up a long sword in an ornate gold-fitted scabbard studded with green gems]
Loth was he to render up the keys.
[with a distasteful glance at Gríma]
Many other things are there which men have missed.
Gríma: [sounding absolutely sincere]
Gríma: [blinking nervously]
[as if to a child]
Let others deal with these irksome guests. Your meat is about to be set on the board. Will you not go to it?
[Gríma falls on his knees, raising his clasped hands in appeal]
[Grima's expression changes to shock - then he recovers]
Gríma: [sincere distress]
[he glances meaningfully at Éomer, then at Gandalf]
--whom the death of my lord would perhaps grieve less, have already persuaded him. If I cannot undo their work, hear me at least in this, lord! One who knows your mind and honours your commands should be left in Edoras. Appoint a faithful steward. Let your counsellor Gríma keep all things till your return -- and I pray that we may see it, though no wise man will deem it hopeful.
Éomer: [laughing cynically out loud]
Down, snake! Down on your belly! How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price?
[Gríma cringes under the verbal attack but does not answer; Gandalf goes on:]
When all the men were dead, you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire? Too long have you watched her under your eyelids and haunted her steps.
[from Gríma's expression it's clear that Gandalf is spot on; Éowyn's brother reflexively reaches for his sword]
Éomer: [biting off his words]
[Gandalf gestures him to stand down]
[to Gríma, ironic]
But you, Wormtongue, you have done what you could for your true master. Some reward you have earned at least. Yet Saruman is apt to overlook his bargains. I should advise you to go quickly and remind him, lest he forget your faithful service.
See, Théoden, here is a snake! With safety you cannot take it with you, nor can you leave it behind. To slay it would be just. But it was not always as it now is. Once it was a man, and did you service in its fashion. Give him a horse and let him go at once, wherever he chooses. By his choice you shall judge him.
Théoden: [nodding slowly]
But then, if ever we meet again, I shall not be merciful.
[Gríma stares around at them all, his former colleagues and those who trusted him or depended on his judgement, and sees no sympathetic face. His expression changes from pleading terror to a cold hatred that is scarier for what it replaces (not unlike Gollum in this shift of personae) and people recoil physically from the psychopathy in his glare. He spits at Théoden's feet and runs for the steps]
Théoden [to his guards]:
[a royal guard dashes down the stairs to keep an eye on Wormtongue]
[another royal guard fills his helmet from the fountain and washes Wormtongue's spit off the steps]
Théoden: [to the Company]
[They all go inside, where a quick brunch has been organized by Éowyn; the trestle table has been set up and some bread, cheese and cold meat on salvers laid out along with bowls of ale. Throughout the following scene voices of people calling and shouting in the city below, and the thud of riders' hooves, can be heard drifting up through the windows]
How far back his treachery goes, who can guess? He was not always evil. Once I do not doubt that he was the friend of Rohan, and even when his heart grew colder, he found you useful still. But for long now he has plotted your ruin, wearing the mask of friendship, until he was ready. In those years Wormtongue's task was easy, and all that you did was swiftly known in Isengard, for your land was open and strangers came and went. And ever Wormtongue's whispering was in your ears, poisoning your thought, chilling your heart, weakening your limbs, while others watched and could do nothing, for your will was in his keeping.
[raising a didactic finger]
But when I escaped and warned you, then the mask was torn, for those who would see. After that Wormtongue played dangerously, always seeking to delay you, to prevent your full strength from being gathered. He was crafty: dulling men's wariness, or working on their fears, as served the occasion. Remember how eagerly he urged that no man should be spared on a wildgoose chase northward, when the immediate peril was westward? He persuaded you to forbid Éomer to pursue the raiding Orcs.
[glancing approvingly at the Third Marshal]
If Éomer had not defied Wormtongue's voice speaking in your mouth, those Orcs would have reached Isengard by now, bearing a great prize. Not indeed that prize which Saruman desires above all else, but at the least two members of my Company. Dare you think of what they might now be suffering, or what Saruman might now have learned to our destruction?
[Théoden looks at his nephew with affection]
[Éomer blushes at the praise and pays studied attention to his meal]
Théoden: [shaking his head]
[leaning forward and putting his hand on Théoden's arm]
Give me Shadowfax! He was only lent before, if loan we may call it. But now I shall ride him into great hazard, setting silver against black: I would not risk anything that is not my own. And already there is a bond of love between us.
[as he speaks, voice-over, we see Shadowfax cantering through the water-meadow, other herds in the background, evocative of the Camargue]
Yet it is a great gift. There is none like to Shadowfax. In him one of the mighty steeds of old has returned. None such shall return again.
[the scene changes to guards bringing out a variety of defensive gear]
And to you my other guests I will offer such things as may be found in my armoury. Swords you do not need, but there are helms and coats of mail of cunning work, gifts to my fathers out of Gondor.
[in front of the table, the guards show what they've brought to the Companions]
Choose from these ere we go, and may they serve you well!
[they examine the selection - the lights, of morning sunlight through
the windows and smoke hole, and of firelight from the hearth, play all
over it in a feast of reflections, the camera lingering on the gold interlacing
of the shield-bosses and the
Gimli: [bowing as deeply as Thorin & Co.]
[hefting the shield appreciatively]
--Indeed, sooner would I bear a horse than be borne by one. I love my feet better.
[raising an eyebrow, bland]
But maybe I shall come yet where I can stand and fight.
Théoden: [equally bland]
[Théoden rises, and Éowyn comes forward with a large, shining gold cup of red wine from where she has been waiting with it on a sideboard]
[she holds it up as Théoden drinks; then brings the cup to the guests in turn. Very ritualistic - evocations of the Sangreal here.]
[she looks him in the eyes, smiling, her own eyes filled with hero-worship. As he takes the cup their fingers touch, and she takes a sudden breath]
[as she smiles at him, his expression becomes serious, even worried as she goes on to the next guest, still glancing back over her shoulder at him with a smile breaking out despite her formal solemnity and the precariousness of the current situation. MUSIC over this montage of ritual images, and as they process out to the terrace, where guards, messengers, and war-leaders are gathered. Éothain and Elfhelm are among the assembled officers. Linger on the faces of these men, known and unknown to us, for we will see them again in the fighting at Helm's Deep -- and again on the Pelennor, at the calling of names. (30 -45 seconds for this passage)]
Is there none whom you would name? In whom do my people trust?
Háma: [shakes head]
[fade in and out to presentation of arms: Eowyn receives a hauberk and sword from the King]
[her eyes move to Aragorn standing beside him]
Aragorn: [prophetic tone]
[they head out down the main way of Edoras to the gates. Track back from Gandalf and Théoden walking at the head of the lords of Rohan, to Legolas and Gimli walking side by side]
Gimli: [shaking his head]
[glancing around at the Eorlingas]
--Though I doubt not that these Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not the warfare that suits me. I wish I could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddlebow.
[he pats the stock of his weapon in self-reassurance as they come down to the main gates. Over a thousand horsemen with spears are gathered before Meduseld]
Riders: [loud cheers]
[Gandalf, Aragorn, Théoden are talking military shop with Théoden's captains in the background; Gimli looks as nervous as a visitor on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier as people and horses mill around. Éomer comes up leading Firefoot, smiling.]
[holds out his hand deprecatingly]
At least I will speak no evil again of the Lady of the Wood.
[glares at Éomer]
--if you ever chance to see the Lady Galadriel with your eyes, then you shall acknowledge her the fairest of ladies, or our friendship will end.
Éomer: [same good-humour]
[shaking Firefoot's lead]
Gandalf will be at the head with the Lord of the Mark, but Firefoot, my horse, will bear us both, if you will.
[PAN to the leaders ahead]
Gandalf: [looking around]
Third Rider: [pointing]
[in the distance Shadowfax lifts up his head, whinnies, and comes running like a dog]
[as Shadowfax nuzzles Gandalf and leans on him]
Here now I name my guest, Gandalf Greyhame, wisest of counsellors, most welcome of wanderers, a lord of the Mark, a chieftain of the Eorlingas while our kin shall last; and I give to him Shadowfax, prince of horses.
Gandalf: [bowing his head]
[he tosses his cape and hat to Aragorn and leaps up onto Shadowfax's back]
[the Riders surge forrward like the crest of a wave away from the city, (10-15 seconds max). CUT back to show Eowyn up on the porch of Meduseld, watching them go, standing in her armour like a silver flame in the afternoon sun, in front of the hall doors with her sword]
|<Scene: The Veranda. Hama and another Rider toss
Grima out; he rolls down the steps.>
(King Theoden follows him down the stairs with his sword drawn.)
(As he tries to slink away backwards.)
(Theoden readies to kill Grima with his sword, Aragorn grabs his hand.)
(Grima scrambles to his feet and runs toward the gates, pushing aside bystanders.)
(The people kneel to their King, last of all Aragorn drops to one knee.)
(Grima rides out of the city.)
Theoden: (Turning, looking at those around him.)
<Scene: Theoden holds a flower and lets it go. He and Gandalf are standing near the tombs outside Edoras.>
(Theoden kneels and breaks down in tears.)
(The two children from the Rohan village appear on a their horse on
a hill. Eothain falls off. They are taken into Meduseld and given food.)
<Scene: The children are eating in Meduseld. Eowyn puts a blanket around Freda's shoulders.>
(Looking around the room.)
(Wrapping Freda with a blanket.)
Gandalf: (Sitting on a chair next to Theoden on his throne.)
Aragorn: You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King.
(Gimli eats while following the conversation with his eyes.)
Theoden: (Turning to glare at Aragorn.)
(Gimli drinks from a tankard and ale streams down his mouth. He belches, then wipes his mouth with his beard.)
Gandalf: Then what is the king's decision?
<Scene: Outside Meduseld. People are preparing to evacuate.>
(Gandalf and Aragorn rush through the street to the stables, followed by Legolas and Gimli.)
(They enter the stables.)
(Gandalf reaches Shadowfax and strokes him.)
(Gandalf mounts Shadowfax.)
(Gandalf rides off, passing Legolas on his way out of the stable.)
<Scene: Inside Meduseld, Theoden's household is packing for the evacuation.>
(Eowyn takes a sword from a trunk and unsheathes it. She holds it up and then takes a few practice swings. Aragorn appears behind her and blocks her swing with his knife.)
(Eowyn looks startled. She disengages and swings her sword around to point at his face. Aragorn doesn't parry, but lowers his knife. He holds both hands in a neutral position. Eowyn re-sheathes her sword and turns to replace it in the trunk.)
(The people of Edoras begin the evacuation to Helm's Deep. King Theoden riding Snowmane leads his people out, and sadly watches the long line behind him)
<Scene: Grima in Orthanc with Saruman.>
Grima: (Nursing the wound on his lip with a rag.)
(Saruman looks pleased.)
(Saruman strides through the caverns of Isengard. He approaches Sharku. The shadows of wild wargs can be seen in the wall of the pit behind Sharku.)
(The shadows of wargs are seen on the walls of a pit below Sharku.)
(Snarls and growls.)