Disclaimer: I am not J.R.R. Tolkien! I borrowed the term 'krigsherre' from A Diamond in the Rough.

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened"

-Priests of the Hidden Temple

Prologue

Pallando, now known as Rómestámo, one of the Blue Wizards, servant of the Vala Oromë, stared into the fierce winds that were raging outside of the palace. The winds were fierce enough to pluck weapons from the hands of their wielders- not that any weapon of mortal make could do anything against this threat.

Outside, raged the greatest sandstorm in twenty-one years, and the closest one ever to the palace. It was a sign of the high skill of those who had built the palace that it was still safe because advancing upon it was a solid wall of sand that could strip a man to the bone and bury him. It was as if the sky and earth were screaming their anger.

Inside, the krigsherre was in the most solid room of the palace, praying desperately to the Lord of Gifts. Already, over a dozen Haradrim had been sacrificed and as the bell tolled mournfully once more Pallando knew that another had just died. What an awful, barbaric custom, to make human sacrifices in the hopes of controlling the natural world.

Beside him, hand clenched hard on the hilt of his scimitar, was Alatar, known nowadays as Morinehtar. Alatar was tall, far over 6ft but not quite 7, and he had tanned skin- proof of the many hours he spent outside. Among the Istari, he looked the youngest, and though his hair had stands of silver it was still a dark brown, nearly black. His beard was short but full and his body was muscled. He was a warrior, skilled in the use of many weapons.

"He is mad", Alatar screamed above the rising winds of the ever-approaching storm. "You cannot placate or control a storm by killing people! Winds and sand do not care about sacrifice! Besides, if their Lord of Gifts was capable of controlling the elements like this then they would have conquered Gondor, Rohan and all the Free lands years ago!"

Pallando said nothing in return for there was nothing to say, he agreed with all that had been said but he could do nothing. Laying a hand on Alatar's wrist, he tried to calm him. "You cannot kill him, Alatar", he warned. "It is not our place and would destroy any good we have the hopes of achieving here".
With a low curse in Quenya, the scimitar was released and Alatar clenched his teeth.

"What do we do then, Pallando? For I cannot stand here and do nothing!" Out of the two, Alatar was also the one more prone to impulsive action. He could often not stand to watch the innocent suffer.

"We must call for aid", said Pallando wearily, expecting the protests that were sure to follow.

"We cannot", retorted Alatar as expected, "none of the others will have sought aid! Are we less capable then they? Curumo will not have called upon the Valar!"

"I am not Curumo, now known as Saruman the White, and neither are you", snapped Pallando, stress, fear and annoyance making his usually mellow temper flare. "We are the Ithryn Luin and we were granted less power than the others", he said honestly. "Besides, our mission was very different than theirs!"

"But I would not have us fail in our mission. Our powers are divided, but individually superior. Surely, we can complete our duty just as well as they", said Alatar desperately for he had picked up many human traits in his years travelling through their lands, among them pride. He did not want to seem weak, nor did he wish to disappoint Oromë, his Lord, whom both he and Pallando revered.

"The others are not trying to fight Sauron in lands that he has already conquered! The others are not staying in a palace where their lives are threatened every day as they try to limit his influence! The others do not have to put up with a mad king who commits atrocities nearly every day yet who they must allow to live despite not wanting to!

"We cannot resist this darkness alone, Alatar. Here in the South Sauron is particularly strong and we must do anything necessary to diminish his power- including call for aid. Especially now, when our greatest and most powerful ally has been missing for weeks."

At the last argument, Alatar bowed his head in a gesture of respect and sorrow. "Very well", he said. "We shall call for aid." Truly, he knew that they needed it.

They were in a country that had already been taken by the Enemy and where the ruler supported Sauron. They must not be banished or sent away by the ruler, known here as the krigsherre, but they also needed to resist the Deceiver. It was a dangerous game that they played, one which they had played now for twenty-one years. Soon, they would have to return to the East which was rising once more but before then they had more work in the South.

At first, they had been reviled and rejected for they were in a country that loathed foreigners. But, through layers of carefully placed deceptions and seemingly helpful advice, they had finally managed to gain the respect if not trust of the krigsherre.

Alatar, using his fighting skills, had quickly proved to be a warrior without equal- at least among the mortal warriors of the South who, frankly, usually died before they could fully develop their skill. Pallando was gifted in wisdom and counsels- and if he was less wise and learned than either Olórin or Curumo than that did not matter here in the South. Here, Pallando was by far the most learned man.

The bell tolled again and Pallando closed his eyes in sorrow while Alatar felt his own blaze with fury. Over a dozen men killed to satisfy the fear, pride and desperation of one man who Alatar furiously wished was dead himself. Why was it that the one man he wished to kill was the very same one he was forbidden to?

Why did so much rest upon this man living? True, he was a ruler, but here in Harad's court rulers and nobles were killed all the time by either poison, duels or assassins in the night. Alatar would be happy to kill the man himself if it came to it, by any one of those methods or even a combination of two or more! But, as he had been warned countless times, too much depended on this man and Pallando had said that a sign from Oromë had strongly advised that they let him live. He was strongly regretting having agreed to do so!

At the next toll of the bell, Alatar fell to his knees at the palace window. "Enough", he screamed, his voice filled with pain, and fear, and anger, and a sudden note of command. It did not matter that he was commanding a storm and that such a thing was clearly impossible, it did not matter that he had no authority over the winds and sand.

He was tired of death, he was tired of standing aside and he could not allow anyone else to die because of the tyranny of this ruler. He cast aside his scimitar and knelt, flinging his spirit wide open and feeling the Light rise within him as he cast away his disguises and was revealed in his glory.

He knew that his power in the Unseen world was now shining through in the Seen one almost as if through a veil. He knew also that this was completely unadvisable and Pallando was likely going to murder him later and that this would certainly attract the gaze of Sauron. But, at the moment, he did not care. He could not allow another to die.

"Eru Ilúvatar, all-father who created all that was and will be, hear now the prayers of your humble servant, I beg thee", he said with his eyes closed, reaching out his spirit with all his strength. "Tame the storm and call it back, still the sands and let them lie. I ask this not for myself but for the innocents who are dying because of this storm. Save them, my lord, I beg you, for such a thing is beyond my power. We are in your hands, my father, now and forever".

When he opened his eyes Pallando was looking at him in a mix of anger, amusement and exasperation, the anger clearly because he had done something so impossibly rash and potentially dangerous. The amusement because he had acted for good reason and because Pallando found it reassuring that he had such confidence in Ilúvatar. The exasperation because such impulsive action was typical of him when he was stressed and angry. But then, before Pallando could say a word, the desert changed.

It began in the West, a gentle wind that should have been merely a part of the coming storm but was instead totally distinct, bringing with it cool air, the faint scent of the sea and the gentlest echoes of music, beautiful but just out of earshot.

It blew towards the storm you could see the difference, the way that it parted the wall of sand, pushing it away from the palace. But no, pushing wasn't exactly right, more as if it were guiding it. Slowly at first, then increasingly faster, the storm turned around, now moving away from the palace.
The roar of the wind was fading, the flying sand disappearing over the horizon. What had seconds ago been a churning wall of sand, merely a few hundred meters from the palace, was now a shadow in the distance, getter further every second.

The wind died, the desert calmed and now the scene from the window was very different. Beneath them was only calm sand and the empty desert, a light, warm breeze drifting across the sands. Pallando stared at him in amazement as he bowed his head once more, still on his knees.

"Thank you, Father", he said, the words coming to his lips smoothly but feeling strange. How long had it been since he had asked the aid of his Father? He took it as a sign. Ask for help and it shall be given, call for aid and you shall be granted it. He needed to set aside his pride for they needed aid.

Standing, he retrieved his scimitar and turned to Pallando. For a second, he said nothing for he had no clue what to say. I'm sorry, I know that was wrong but I do not regret it? Finally, I have some hope for the first time in months? I am overjoyed to hear from Father? Do you forgive me?

All this he thought but none of this did he say. Instead, he said only one thing, "Pallando", and could not say any more. But it did not matter for Pallando understood.

"That was unwise", Pallando said quietly, "but I do not judge you for it as it was far more wise than charging in and killing the krigsherre which I sensed both of us longed to but neither of us dared. If revealing yourself and your Light attracted the gaze of Sauron then so be it, it was bound to happen eventually and our activities could not have stayed secret for long.

"There is little that the Enemy can do now to hinder us and, frankly, I doubt that he will bother right away. He never had much respect for the Blue Wizards after all and it will be plain to him that while that was your Light, it was not your power. He has, after all, never been a fool and it was evidently beyond our combined power to control the elements. This will likely inspire the Enemy's curiosity but he, no doubt, will have far more important things with which to occupy his time and attention.

"To command the storm was prideful, as was to resist summoning help but I shall not lecture you on that for you humbled yourself before Eru and that can take great courage. Your impulsiveness needs restraining, as always, but you do improve and such is merely your character. Besides, these instincts are prompted by a need to protect others and act for what you believe to be the good of the world. There are far worse faults to be found in a person, including the inability to act- which you surely do not possess! If Our Father forgives you your pride and impulsive tendencies than who am I to not do so as well?

"We both forgot that never are we alone in our mission. It was your belief tonight that reminded me that we are not expected to accomplish everything alone. I wanted to call for aid but I harboured little hope that it would come. Now, I know that we shall be granted the aid we need.

"Though perhaps the Haradrim will attribute this miracle to the sacrifice we know what truly stopped the storm. We cannot tell them, of course, but maybe the families of those slain will be comforted by the thoughts that their loved ones did not die in vain. If nothing else, it has proven once again that the krigsherre is not afraid to sacrifice others to fulfil his own needs. That may help us garner support in the future.

"You have done well, Alatar, and you need not seek my forgiveness nor that of anyone else save Father who, it seems, has already granted you his. Be at ease, mellon nin ar muindor nin", he finished.

"Thank you", Alatar replied quietly, gratitude clear in his voice. "What must we do now", he questioned after a few seconds, regaining his usual gruffer tones.

"Now", said Pallando reluctantly, "we must go pay our thanks to the mighty krigsherre whose wise and courageous sacrifices caught the attention of the all-powerful Lord of Gifts and convinced him to save us all from the sandstorm".

"May I hint that next time perhaps the Lord of Gifts might enjoy a royal sacrifice and suggest that there could be nothing more fitting than should the krigsherre give his life in sacrifice for the Lord of Gifts so that his people may go free", Alatar asked.

"You may not", replied Pallando as he retrieved his staff and hurriedly adjusted his robes, though his mouth twitched at the suggestion and the thoughts of the krigsherre's likely reaction to it. Unfortunately, they could not, their work was far too important to be wasted by angering the krigsherre, amusing as it would be.

Staff in hand, robes fully presentable, Pallando turned to Alatar who was, reluctantly, concealing his scimitar and taking his staff. His robes were quickly made presentable and his hair was drawn back from his face and fastened with a leather band.

"Are you prepared, brother", Pallando asked, his voice already the calm, patient and reassuring tone he used with the krigsherre, his true emotions hidden deep below the surface.

"Prepared to go humble myself before a tyrant and tell him how well he did today in killing his own subjects", Alatar asked rhetorically and somewhat bitterly. "By all means, brother", he added before Pallando could say anything in response.

"Then let us go preform this necessary duty", Pallando said, sweeping away from the window, robes billowing around him and his staff tapping the ground ahead. Alatar paused a second to gather his resolve then stepped out after him, his scimitar slapping rhythmically against his thigh in a way that was comforting and his long, smooth strides ensuring that he caught up to Pallando quickly.

As they made their way down the halls towards the lower chambers, servants bowed low and guards either nodded in respect or regarded them with suspicion. Pallando greeted each with a nod or a smile but Alatar kept his face blank. Half of the guards would prefer to be viewing his unmoving corpse than his confidant stride so he saw no reason to be friendly with them.

Before the doors of the inner chamber two guards stood at attention, clearly terrified that they would be the next to be summoned for sacrifice. Evidently those that dwelt within did not yet know that the sandstorm had abated. Pallando felt satisfaction well up within him. Here at the krigsherre's court it was always far better to be the bearer of good news. To be the bearer of ill news could cost you your life.

"Let us pass", Pallando said peacefully, and the guards looked at them warily, unsure why they were here. "We have been saved, my friends", he added. "The sandstorm has been vanquished."

Almost in synchrony, the guards breathed out in relief and, smiling slightly, the one closest to the door opened it. Pallando did not blame them for their relief, now they no longer needed to fear that they would be sacrificed.

"Praise the Lord of Gifts", the second guard said with a worshipful look upon his face. "Indeed", Pallando managed while Alatar grunted. They must keep up the pretences but there were, after all, limits.

They swept into the hall where, by the altar, a terrified woman was being forced to kneel , a priest pressing a gleaming blade to her throat as the krigsherre desperately recited, "this offering I make to you, my Lord of Gifts, the blood of one of those I rule, as you rule over me. May her spilt blood please you and grant you the strength to vanquish the storm".

The priest made to move, the woman opened her mouth to scream, but before either of them could do anything Pallando's voice burst forth before he even had made up his mind to speak.

"Stop", he ordered in ringing tones, briefly forgetting their job to appear completely powerless and prepared to serve the krigsherre.

But the tone of command was clear in his voice and the priest froze, suddenly unsure whether to obey the krigsherre or this unknown voice that exuded power and command. For a second, the priest felt as if he were pinned beneath the gaze of a hunter, unable to move and certainly unable to even think of disobeying.

Then, the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came and the priest was left staring only at the two foreigners who had, against all odds, managed to gain the respect of the krigsherre. Yet, against all sense of reason, the priest was not sure who to obey.

Then the krigsherre stood, both fury and fear upon his face. "What is the meaning of this", he shouted. "How dare you order my priests in my palace! I know you dislike death, my advisor, but surely even you must see that this is necessary! These sacrifices are for our mighty Lord of Gifts, that he might notice us and save us from the sandstorm".

Instantly, Pallando knelt, Alatar reluctantly following suit as they presented their necks to the krigsherre in an act that was no longer merely symbolic. The krigsherre gestured impatiently and they raised their heads though they stayed on their knees. It was far safer to do so.

"O mighty krigsherre, wise beyond belief and with courage most men could only aspire to possess, we come bearing urgent tidings", Pallando began in the flowery speech of Harad. It was far better that he talk for Alatar usually did so through clenched teeth and seemed unable to come up with proper praises for the krigsherre.

At the ruler's impatient nod, Pallando went on. "As usual, you are victorious, my lord! Even the Lord of Gifts must see your worth for outside a miracle has occurred!"

Pallando paused to heighten the krigsherre's interest and to ensure that the priest still was not moving to sacrifice the woman. Suddenly far more relaxed, the krigsherre gestured for him to keep speaking and relay the news.

"The sandstorm that had been threatening the palace and all those within it- including your most royal self- has disappeared, my lord. It has seemingly vanished into thin air. Let all assembled view the power of our krigsherre", Pallando said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth but knowing he must say them.

Cheers and the banging of weapons rang out, praise for the krigsherre who he accepted graciously. Alatar resisted the urge to spit. He deserved none of it!

"It was because I know how much you value your subjects, o my merciful lord, and because I know that the Lord of Gifts values his loyal servants, that I insolently tried to order your priest. Am I forgiven for that offence", Pallando asked, face clear and tone apologetic.

But while outwardly he portrayed himself as the perfect servant of the krigsherre inwardly he stewed with anger. The krigsherre deserved neither his respect nor praise and that he must give him such rankled him. Working here in the South certainly taught one humility!

"Yes, you are forgiven", the krigsherre said somewhat distractedly before giving orders for the woman to be released and all to celebrate. Pallando breathed a sigh of relief.

Hours later, in their room within the palace, Pallando and Alatar stood together before their private altar which had been altered so that it was no longer dedicated to the Lord of Gifts but instead to Ilúvatar and the Valar.

Taking up their staffs and joining their power, together they called for help, hoping the Valar would answer them. Instead, the Valar chose to send someone…

Translations and definitions

Ainur: First and most powerful beings created by Ilúvatar. There are two divisions, the Valar and the Maiar

Curumo: Saruman's name in the West

Eru Ilúvatar: Called the all-father or the One, He is the supreme deity of Middle-Earth and the creator. Only He can create independent life. Anything not created by Him must be accepted by Him to become more than mere puppets

Istari: Also known as the Five Wizards, they are Maiar spirits sent in human form to help the Free Peoples defeat Sauron

Ithryn Luin: the Blue Wizards

Maiar: They are one of the orders of the Ainur but lesser in power than the Valar. They serve the Valar

mellon nin ar muindor nin: my friend and my brother

Morinehtar: Alatar's name in Harad and the other lands of Middle-Earth. It means Darkness-slayer

Olórin: Gandalf's name in the West

Oromë: One of the Valar, he is Lord of the Forests and a great hunter

Rómestámo: Pallando's name in Harad and the other lands of Middle-Earth. It means East-helper

Sauron: The Lord of Gifts,The Enemy,The Deceiver, The Dark Lord, the Shadow

Unseen world: Also called the Wraith world and the Spirit world. This is the world that the Ring reveals to its wearer and that the Elves and Ainur can see. The Ringwraiths are creatures of this world

Vala/Valar: They are the Powers of Arda who shaped and rule the world from Aman. They were created by Ilúvatar and are the most powerful of the Ainur. The Maiar serve them.

This is my newest story and my longest. It is going to be quite long but hopefully I will be able to update at least once or twice a week. Hope you enjoyed! The quote at the beginning is Matthew 7:7-8. Please review and tell me what you liked, disliked, ect. Thanks for reading!