The Heart Stealer

PG-13

For smoking, drinking, and some violence.

Summary: first chapter Aragorn under guise of Thorongil is looking to destroy Umbar. Denethor makes accusations against him that he may not be able to answer as Thorongil and Gandalf try to figure out a way to change the Steward's mind.

I do not own any characters or places that are Tolkien's. I just took them out to play for a bit. If I made any money from this story, I would not be posting it here :D.

Hello readers. Sorry for the absence. I have been in a bit of a dry spell, I know I said I wouldn't be long in posting, but stuff happened, computer problems, etc. Coming up with a good title has been trying, I changed it at least 4 times. In part, it was because the story kept changing. I do not know where this is going, so bear with me.

Chapter I: Tension

~2975 TA Gondor~

"Always you are the bringer of ill news, Mithrandir," The Steward of Gondor gazed with displeasure upon the wizard in grey standing before him. The wizard had a habit it seemed of bringing only warnings and tidings of despair. But the Steward knew that it was best to heed the advice of a wizard. Thorongil showed unwavering trust in Mithrandir and took everything he said to heart. His son Denethor, however, did not seem to trust the wizard at all. Denethor thought that they should put their trust on Saruman the White, who had taken up in the tower of Orthanc instead of wandering to and fro into strange and unknown places like the Grey One. Thorongil argued many points concerning Umbar, but Denethor turned aside his words as easily as he would a blade. Ecthelion had to agree with his son on the point that the men of Umbar had not attacked in years and there were no signs that he had seen that they would be anytime soon. If there were some kind of proof, he would heed the words of the wizard and the stranger.

Ecthelion turned his eyes upon Thorongil, a man he had come to love as a son. "We have not any ships to spare for an invasion upon their home front and we cannot just attack them without provocation," reasoned Denethor.

"You would wait until they come knocking on your front gates and lay waste to your fields and crops?" answered Thorongil.

"I am afraid I must agree with Denethor. If some manner of proof of these threats were brought before me, then we may come to an arrangement, but for now, I say we drop the matter." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Thorongil and the wizard along with the other members of the council.

Thorongil strode out of the throne room, his frustration mounting with every step. Often it seemed that Denethor opposed any plans of strategy or ideas Thorongil devised whenever Gandalf was concerned. Not because they were not good ideas or strategies, in fact they were often very good, even if they seemed mad at times. However in this case he had had a foresight predicting Gondor's fall if the black fleets were allowed to stay afloat. Thorongil had already begun designs on how to eliminate the threat and if all went well, Gondor had more than enough ships; taking also into account the ships from Dol Amroth. He shared his vision with Gandalf alone and they discussed it in lengths before deciding that Gandalf should tell the Steward of Gondor of the coming danger. If Aragorn had revealed such information, there would have been an askance of how he knew this. It would raise some uncomfortable questions and he did not wish to be forced to lie to protect his secrets.

He needed a drink, so he strode down to the King's Fountain, the best tavern in the white city, sat in secluded corner of the room and ordered the house brew. He would have preferred a glass of elven wine, Dorwinion would have been perfect, but elven wine in Gondor was not to be found, never mind a bottle of Dorwinion. Finding a bottle of Dorwinion this far south was like finding a hobbit in a fifty foot tree. He chuckled to himself as he could actually think of one particular hobbit who had been found stuck up a tree. Perhaps there is a chance of finding some Dorwinion in Gondor after all, he mused.

"So much for that adventure," said Gandalf as he sat down across from the disgruntled human. The wizard reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out his pipe and bag of pipeweed.

Aragorn leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, cupping his pint of brew. "I think I could take up your 'smelly habits' as Erestor would say with all this stress."

"It's about time," merrily Gandalf replied and from his robes Gandalf produced another pipe. He stuffed it and handed it over the Aragorn, "though I doubt your foster father would approve."

"With all due respect, he can write a formal complaint, sign it, and then stick it in his ear," he said cynically around the pipe sticking out of his mouth as he lit it. "Besides, what he does not know in these regards will not kill him."

"Oh, he shall find out."

"Yes, but for the time being, I am here and he is thousands of miles away and-"

"And you are being very contemptuous today."

A heavy sigh escaped Aragorn's lips. He took a swig of ale before answering, "I do not really mean any of it. It's just…it has been a trying day. How can we get proof from a vision?"

"Investigate, spy, gather information that would prove their treachery."

"They would never allow it!" the words sprung from Aragorn's lips as a quiet hiss.

"Would not allow you, but I, however," smiled the wizard, "am not bound by the same restrictions you are." He lowered his voice even more so Aragorn could just hear him, "Unless, of course, you were to claim something that belongs to you," Gandalf's eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"I have played with the idea, but each time something inside me says, 'not now' and I have to agree. Perhaps some unforeseen event has yet to happen before it will feel right but we do not have that kind of time. And yet, what can we do? You went before them with the warning and they did not heed your advice. What makes you think they will listen if and when you manage to gather proof?"

Gandalf bowed his head and stared at the coals glowing from his pipe, "I do not know."

They spent the next hour in deep thought. Conversing quietly one to another once in awhile with ideas. Neither had decided upon a plan when the time came for Aragorn to attend to his duties as Thorongil. He returned the borrowed pipe. Gandalf insisted he hold on to it, but Aragorn would not accept.

oOo

Denethor walked silently down the darkened hall. Lamps had been lit but there were still many dark places in which one might lurk. He placed his hand on his sword. "I want to know why." Startled, though he did not show it aside drawing his sword, Denethor spun around to face the voice of his rival. Thorongil unnervingly slid from the shadows as quietly as an elf. It bothered Denethor that he had walked right by him and did not even see him. Thorongil eyed the blade with mild dullness. "Did you think me to be a bogeyman?" He asked with a small smile.

Denethor frowned and slid his sword back in its sheathe and turned back down the hall with derision followed by the one he wished to escape.

"Peace, Denethor, I meant no offense."

"What do you want Thorongil?" he growled.

"I want to know your reasons for going against Mithrandir's counsel. You do not like him, I get that. You do not like me, I understand that too. But this is a serious threat to Gondor. You would let your feelings towards us interfere with Gondor's safety?"

"All I want is proof."

"You may want proof but that is not your only reason." They halted their steps, but Denethor made no answer. "You may keep them to yourself if you must, but the strength that is in Umbar is great and would bring peril upon us. If Sauron were to go to open war against us, then the fiefs of the south would be our undoing. The Corsairs have ever been his ally. Because it has been some time since they have sailed against Gondor, does not mean all is safe. It makes them all the more deadly. It gives them time to gather strength to build." Denethor stared at the floor. "What about Finduilas?" If he would put aside Gondor's safety for hatred, would he do so with his love for Finduilas? Aragorn knew he fancied her.

"Yes, what about Finduilas?" Denethor's eyes snapped up from the floor and burned into Thorongil's. His words were fraught with venom, "You seek to steal her heart from me as you have done with my father's?"

"What are- are you insinuating I have attempted to steal her from you? That I have stolen your father's love? I have never once sought to supplant you in your father's heart. What would I succeed by doing so?"

"You know your own mind. And with this wizard you would have the throne and the woman I love all with my father's blessing," he spat.

"Just who do you think I am?"

Denethor held his tongue. He had his suspicions who this man was, but he had no certain proof. He had looked into Mithrandir and with what he could see; he knew that this message of the Corsairs had not come from his own divinations and devices. Thorongil immediately was sided with him in a way that made Denethor think that Thorongil himself had discovered the threat, but how? It confirmed for him that this man was indeed of Númenorean descent, though not from Gondor. No not from Gondor…he had come to Gondor from the Rohirrim, but he was not of them either. He had to have come from the north. Perhaps he was of their northern brethren. It would then appear that not all of their kin in the north had disappeared like many thought. Like himself, he appeared to have the gift of foresight and that is the proof he wanted. He wanted this stranger to admit that he was of Númenor. More than that, Denethor wanted him to reveal what he else suspected: that he was Isildur's heir. If he was Isildur's heir, what other reason would he be in Minas Tirith other than claiming the throne? There had been no king in Gondor for nine hundred and twenty-five years when Eӓrnur had answered the challenge of the Witch-king and was lost. It was then that Mardil became the first Ruling Steward. If the king were to return it would be expected of himself to surrender the rule of Gondor. It would be a sore blow if it were to be his rival who was to claim the throne. Even if his claim were true, Denethor could not see himself serving under such an upstart. Undoubtedly, Ecthelion would hand over the rod to his favorite captain faster than one could blink. He could almost prove the man's race, but not his ancestry, but he would settle for just the admission of race, for now, as it would bring him one step closer. But Thorongil had brought up a just as sore a subject. He would save the topic of his father's love for another time. Denethor wanted to know why Thorongil also sought the hand of the woman he sought to marry. He had seen them together on many occasions whenever she came to the city. Always it was with Thorongil she would prefer to go riding with, laugh with, even dance with.

Thorongil gazed in thought at Ecthelion's son. Is it possible that Denethor has in some way discovered who I am? Did my mask slip without my knowledge? He would have said something if he had. Undoubtedly he has his suspicions. Could that be the proof he is wanting? He also thinks that I have stolen his father's love and am seeking the hand of Finduilas? What utter nonsense. However, Denethor truly believes it. "I seek the hand of no one in Gondor. Finduilas and I are just friends. There is no romance between us. You can ask her yourself if you so not believe me. If your father has looked more favorably upon me them yourself, it was no design of mine. I am here to serve your father and protect Gondor from her enemies. As soon as the threat of Umbar is gone, I will depart and return to the north where I came from and there I will stay until I am needed once more. Fair night to you, son of Ecthelion," after a stiff salute, Thorongil was gone.

TBC

(Hopefully soon)