The riders moved as one through the misty, broken terrain around Orthanc. Gandalf led the way with Eomer at his right, and behind them rode Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, their faces steeled for whatever awaited them in Saruman's dark fortress. Theoden rode beside them, regal and resolute, with the younger warriors Liv and David following close, each holding their daughters Lily and Gabby tightly against them. The Hobbits clung to their saddles, wide-eyed as they took in the eerie silence of Isengard, the shattered remains of Saruman's once-mighty machinery strewn around the landscape like forgotten relics of a dark past.

Suddenly, a low rumble disturbed the quiet. Treebeard emerged from a dense patch of scorched trees, his ancient bark covered with flecks of ash. His eyes turned towards Gandalf with a slow, solemn gaze. "Hooooom, young master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come," he rumbled. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there is a wizard here who defies the roots and the rivers." He turned his gaze up to the shadowy tower. "He sits locked in his cage, festering in his thoughts."

Aragorn's voice was steady but grim. "Show yourself!" he called, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword as he watched the heights of Orthanc.

David pulled his daughter Lily closer, her small arms clinging to him, sensing her father's unease. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered to Liv beside him.

"That makes two of us," Liv replied, adjusting her grip on Gabby, who had begun to stir, her eyes wide with fright.

"Mommy, I'm scared," Lily whispered, burying her face against David's chest.

Liv gave her daughter a reassuring look, brushing a hand over her hair. "Don't worry, sweetie. Your father will protect you."

Gandalf glanced back at the group, his face stern. "Be wary, friends. Even in defeat, Saruman remains dangerous."

"Well, then let's have his head and be done with it," grumbled Gimli, fingering the edge of his axe.

Gandalf shook his head. "No, we need him alive. His knowledge is not yet spent; his counsel may yet prove useful."

As the riders waited in tense silence, a figure finally emerged on the high balcony of Orthanc, dressed in robes that shone stark and pale against the dark tower stone. Saruman's voice, smooth and sinister, rang down to them. "You have fought many wars, Theoden King, and slain many men—yet you have made peace afterward. Can we not take counsel together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Liv snorted under her breath. "That guy could use a good nose job."

David tried not to laugh, keeping his composure as Lily stifled a giggle, looking curiously at the strange, imposing figure above them.

Theoden's voice, however, was laced with fury as he addressed Saruman. "We shall have peace," he said, his eyes blazing. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the innocent children who lie dead because of you! We shall have peace when the lives of my soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of Helm's Deep, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, only then shall we have peace!"

"Gibbets and crows!" Saruman sneered, his gaze shifting to Gandalf. "And what do you want, Gandalf the Grey? Or should I say Gandalf the White? Perhaps the key of Orthanc? Or perhaps you have set your sights on something grander—the keys of Barad-dûr itself? The crown of seven kings and the rods of the five wizards?"

"Your treachery has cost many lives, Saruman," said Gandalf, his voice edged with sadness. "But there is still time for you to repent. You can help us and, in doing so, save countless others. You have the power to halt Sauron's advance."

A twisted smile grew on Saruman's lips. "So, you have come for counsel, then? Information, perhaps? Very well, Gandalf, I shall grant you a nugget of wisdom. Something festers in the heart of Middle-earth, something that even you, mighty Gandalf, have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage. His armies march, and his strength grows. Soon, he shall unleash his wrath upon the free peoples of Middle-earth, and you all will perish beneath his shadow."

Gandalf advanced on his horse, undeterred by Saruman's words. Saruman's gaze shifted, falling on Aragorn, his smile curling into a sneer.

"You cannot believe that this Ranger will sit upon the throne of Gondor, Gandalf," he spat. "This exile, this shadow-crawler? A fool's dream! He will never be crowned king."

Aragorn held his gaze steady, his eyes filled with quiet strength, refusing to be provoked by Saruman's taunts.

Saruman's expression darkened as he looked back to Gandalf. "Tell me, wizard, what words of comfort did you whisper to the halfling as you sent him to his doom? The path you have set him on leads only to death."

Gimli's patience snapped. "Enough of this prattling!" he muttered, gripping his axe. "Shoot him, Legolas. Stick an arrow in his gob and be done with it."

Legolas calmly nocked an arrow, his eyes narrowed on Saruman. But Gandalf raised a hand. "No," he said firmly. "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy!" Saruman hissed. With a swift, sudden movement, he aimed his staff toward Gandalf, releasing a searing bolt of fire. Gandalf held his ground, deflecting the strike effortlessly with a shimmer of light around him.

But as the flash faded, Liv's eyes hardened. She handed Gabby safely to David, slipping on her moon ring, and with a focused gesture, she channeled its power. A blinding streak of energy shot forth, striking Saruman's staff, shattering it instantly.

"Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf declared, his voice echoing through the air.

From the shadows of the tower emerged a frail, haunted figure—Grima Wormtongue, his face as pale as death. Gandalf's gaze softened as he addressed him. "Grima," he said gently, "you need not follow him any longer. You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan. Come down."

For a moment, Grima seemed to waver, his gaze shifting from Saruman to Theoden, and back to Gandalf. Hope glimmered in his weary eyes.

Saruman's lip curled in contempt. "A man of Rohan? Hah! What is Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs?"

Theoden's jaw clenched, but he held his ground. "Grima, come down. Be free of him."

Saruman sneered at Grima, raising his hand to strike him. "Cur!" he snarled, slapping Grima back. Grima staggered, his expression twisted with fury and despair. In a flash, he pulled a dagger, lunging toward Saruman in a swift, desperate act of rebellion.

Legolas acted on instinct, drawing his bow and letting an arrow fly. It struck true, piercing Grima's heart. Saruman reeled back, a look of shock frozen on his face as he tumbled from the balcony, falling with a sickening crash onto the great wheel below.

Liv and David shielded Lily and Gabby, their hands covering their eyes as Saruman's body sank beneath the dark water of the flooded Isengard.

Gandalf took a deep breath, turning to the others. "Send word to all our allies," he said gravely. "The enemy moves against us. We must gather every force that still stands free."

Liv nodded, summoning Talonflame. "We're counting on you, Talonflame," she said, sending the swift Pokémon winging into the sky.

As the last echoes faded, a glint caught Pippin's eye. Peering down, he saw the black orb of the Palantir gleaming from the water's edge. Entranced, he reached down, his fingers brushing its cold, smooth surface.

"Pippin!" Aragorn's voice jolted him back. The Hobbit blinked, clutching the orb, looking sheepishly at Gandalf.

"Peregrin Took," Gandalf said, a note of sternness in his voice as he wrapped the Palantir in his cloak. He glanced down at the curious hobbit with a knowing look. "Best that this stays far from prying eyes."