Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings 'cause if I did then I would be rich and wouldn't have to wait till Christmas and my birthday to get money to buy stuff.

If anyone can put a finger on where I got the name I'll give them a cookie.

On with this story however!

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The Tree and the Trident Chapter 1

The City of Umbar, Master of the City Castle

The City of Umbar was set on the coast of the ocean and the edge of the desert, making it home to people in need of supplies and also home to the pirates that plagued the shores of Middle Earth. Its people didn't mind the pirates, the Corsairs of Umbar to be more precise, nor did they mind the people coming and going as that was their source of income, no they minded but a group of seven. The seven who lived in the large castles towards the center of the city, and the seven whom held complete power over them, the Masters of Umbar.

None of this mattered to the Master of the City, Crathir, as he gazed out from his balcony down at the tan colored city. It was his job to protect it and ensure its populace was kept in order, not an easy task with the Corsairs and the other peoples of Harad making his life miserable but it was something he had gotten rather use to. But that was neither here nor there at the moment as he turned his body 180 degrees towards the large, stone office he had just exited from. If anything mattered more then the people of the city right now it was the matter of Gondors new King, Aragron. He had defeated his lord, Sauron, along with the Haradrim that had attacked the city and had some how taken over Umbars small fleet of ships, something which the two Masters of the Fleet weren't pleased with. After all, what was more pressing to the city? A bunch of mercenaries who attacked at the whim of their current employer? The people of the city, who could attack at any time? Or the King of Gondor with vast resources of warriors at is disposal? He knew the answer to that and the people did as well, so he surmised that was why they hadn't revolted sense Aragorn had taken the crown. But they still posed a small threat, so he kept the city guard on watch at all times now, and had left specific orders for them to quash any and all revolts of some kind, which seemed to keep the people in check for now.

"But what will happen when Aragorn doesn't pose a threat? Will they attack or will they stay loyal out of fear?" He asked himself out loud as he walked into the cooler stone room, no fear of being over heard. After all, who would listen in on him? Some absent minded fool might but that would be the extent of that as he was well known as a man of quick retribution to spies. So it was with that in mind he sat down at the wood desk, his mind working on the current problem.

What will he do if we stay up here? What will he do to us if we attack? Or, desert and Sauron forbird, if we ask for a peace treaty? It was with those thoughts in mind that he came to a conclusion about Aragorn, he didn't know enough about him to answer those questions. It was with that in mind that he started to formulate a plan, a plan so daring and rather common sense wise smart to him that he hadn't figured out why he hadn't thought of it before. Time to send out the Desert Serpent. He thought with a sly grin, and if anyone was listening they would have heard a cruel sounding laugh following it.

The City of Minas Tirith

The city of Minas Tirith was bathed in sunlight, its buildings shining white causing it to live up to its name of the White City. Its people were happy and went on with their normal everyday lives and its Guards performed their duties flawlessly. Indeed, the city seemed to prosper more so under the rule of its current rulers then it ever had under Denethor, and most pointed to Aragron as the source of it. Indeed to all of its current visitors, the Prince Imrahil and his knights amongst them, the city had a gotten a life to it that had always seemed missing under the Steward. Not that Imrahil could blame Denethor fully for that; his rule had been under the threat of Sauron and he had lost the love of his life earlier then he should have something which Imrahil couldn't forget.

So it was with that in mind along with his own current business in the court of Aragorn that he rode to the castle, his knights as silent and tall as they had been sense leaving Dol Amroth. Upon reaching the castle, dismounting from his horse, ensuring that he would be fine and leaving the stable, he noticed a couple things. One was the lighter colored horse that appeared to have escaped the stable hands as it was now prancing about the courtyard and the second item was the saddle on the horse. It wasn't of Gondoroion, Rohirim or Elvish make, as was apparent by its light hue and over all design and it seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn't place a finger on it. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud whistle from the other side of the courtyard followed by a command in a rather harsh sounding tongue. The horse snorted and stopped its prancing, allowing a couple of the stable hands to grab him. Eyeing the figure who had whistled, Imrahil walked towards it, two out of the six knights following him.

"Prince Imrahil I presume?" The man asked when Imrahil was closer to him, a rather stern look to his tanned features.

"That is correct sir, who are you? I see you are not from these parts, as your clothing and horse suggest." Imrahil replied calmly, receiving a bow from the other man.

"I am Harshir of Harad Prince Imrahil, and I am here for sanctuarary," The man replied calmly, his face straight and it was all Imrahil could do to not gawk.

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