-Rising Storm-

By: Bill the Pony

Rating: PG-13 (just being cautious)

Feedback: elf_master752@yahoo.com

Spoilers: Not yet really.

Disclaimer: Don't own them, I'll leave that to the Tolkien family and whoever. I make no profit either.

Summary: The shadow of Mordor is growing darker and spreading across the lands like a plague. Dunlendings have allied themselves with orcs, terrorizing the neighboring lands. Worse yet, it is heard that the head of this movement is inside the order of the Istari. A friend of Gandalf has been framed as the head of this evil plot. It is up to Aragorn and Legolas to clear his name before the order of the Istari bring him up as a traitor, allowing the real traitor to continue his scheme.

Note: Not all the names in this actually mean something. I couldn't get enough info for that. As well as I know that this is not all accurate, I had limited resources. Fasse is an original character, in Quenya (as far as I can tell) means 'Shaggy'. :) This thing just keeps growing longer with each addition. Also, I had a little problem that nobody will probably notice. I have Fasse's hut having glass windows. The hobbits had glass, so I'm figuring he could have glass. Just use your imagination.

Additional Note: I don't think I made it clear enough in Part 2 that Aragorn and Legolas did not know that Fasse was accused as the traitor. Just given' y'all a heads up. And personally, I really dislike the way this part was written. To me, it just doesn't flow. There I go again, insulting my own work. Next part also might be awhile in appearing.

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Rising Storm

Part 4

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Upon awakening, Aragorn had found himself disoriented. Everything returned in a flash of painful remembrance. He had dived for cover at Legolas's warning, but unwittingly he had collided with the stone hearth. The very thought that his demise would come from a hearth seemed rather morbidly humorous.

Opening his eyes, he felt himself being carried. Crackling and the roar of flames filled his ears as his senses returned. "Put me down," he asked of his carrier. Reluctantly, Fasse did. He looked back to see the hut ablaze. Fasse halted his flight when Aragorn stopped suddenly.

Aragorn felt his heart spasm with fear, "Fasse, where is Legolas!" He asked urgently, but he already knew.

The wizard tried to catch his shirt as he started to run back to the hut. But they were both too late. With a roar, the sides and ceiling of the small hut collapsed inward. Aragorn didn't hear himself scream in horror. He didn't feel the strong arms restrain him from flying back into the burning rubble of the hut. He didn't see the dark clad men gather around them, swords drawn.

Aragorn went numb. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. The flames blurred as his eyes filled with hot tears.

Fasse clutched the human to him, his docile nature changing radically as he looked for a means of escape. They were surrounded. Obviously, the wizard thought, they did not expect them to escape the hut before it collapsed. If they had, they would have brought bows as well as swords. To execute with swords meant close contact.

One of the dark men's faces turned to a fierce scowl, he stepped forward. His mouth opened to speak, but then there was a hiss and his face twisted from a scowl to a grimace.

---

Vanen growled deep in his throat as the old man and the younger human limped from the burning wreckage. Though not completely unexpected, it was still an undesired twist in his operation. He surmised that the elf had been lost in the fire, which was all well and good. He had no desire to fight an elven warrior.

Drawing his sword he waved the rest of the men to surround them. He was not surprised to see the old man of the forest involved in this. He would not be hard in taking down, and by the look of it, the younger man wouldn't be problem either, distraught as he was.

Then something happened that made him bristle. A hotheaded young man stepped from the tight ring surrounding the potential captives. His sword raised he advanced to finish the task himself. Things quickly flew out of Vanen's control. There was a sharp hiss, then without warning the imprudent Dunlending had an arrow in his back.

Vanen whirled. The men scattered. They had been taken completely unaware. Three more arrows sped from the direction of the wreckage to hit their targets, one of which being Vanen's shoulder. He gritted his teeth in pain, but anger and rage at being foiled overrode any other feeling. The elf had escaped.

---

From an all-time low on an emotional scale, Aragorn felt his spirit soar as the familiar green and yellow fletched arrows wrought confusion upon the Dunlendings. Three fell, two of which appeared dead. The fourth took one in the shoulder but did not falter. Drawing his long sword from its scabbard at his side, he whirled on the crazed man lunging at his back. Deftly, he dealt the man a deep slash to the arm. He had no desire to slay his own kinsmen, but if need be…

With Legolas attacking from the outside, Aragorn moved to protect the weaponless wizard. But Fasse proved Aragorn was not needed for his defense. The shaggy Istar snatched a dead limb from the ground, hefting it in callused hands. Truly, Aragorn had never seen a simple, cumbersome branch wielded so dangerously.

Fasse, with strong, unembellished strokes, delivered wounding blows to the men which rushed at him. Any thought that Fasse was a frail old man fled Aragorn's thoughts. With the three of them combined, he knew that it would be possible for them to pick of the ten.

Then there was a shrill whiney. Apparently, the odds had decreased to five to ten. Ralamir and Falmarin had heard the commotion from where they had chosen to graze and taken action.

Legolas, from the outside of the ring, had the chance to observe while shooting, who might be the leader in this setting. He was not hard to find as Legolas watched him stay to the fringes of the fight. His next move would be easy enough with the more than adequate diversion Aragorn and Fasse were providing.

---

Vanen never heard the light steps of the elf behind him, never was alerted of his presence until the sharp tip of the knife pricked his neck.

"Tell them to hold off," the cold voice commanded levelly, "Unless you wish more bloodshed of your men."

Vanen's blood boiled at being told what to do. Unfortunately, the elf had him cornered. In his corrupted heart, Vanen really did not care what happened to the men that had been assigned to him, but if he did not agree, his life would be included with theirs.

"Tell them," the blade pushed against his neck.

He chaffed at having to do as the elf said, but Vanen was not a stupid man. "Stop! Lower your swords, all of you."

The stunned men stopped one by one. In an almost comical fashion, they turned, confused at the turn of events. But at the sight of their assigned leader at knife point, they did not argue. Secretly, they feared more bringing the wrath of the assassin down upon their heads when they did not comply with his wishes. The expression they saw on the elven warrior's face was far from comical.

One by one, they lowered their swords, "I want you to tell me your name, and why you have tried to kill us. No lies, or by any oath you wish, I will not stay my hand."

Vanen recognized a serious threat when he heard one, "I am Vanen Horengof, I was hired to kill a man and an elf visiting the old man. That's all."

"Who hired you?"

Vanen remained silent, he knew that if the men around him heard him betray their leader, he was as good as dead anyway.

The pressure on his neck increased, "Who hired you."

"Baladern of southern village." The lie was a bad one.

---

Legolas pushed down on the knife, then at the last minute released it twirling it and bring the hilt down hard at the base of the man's skull. The man, now revealed as Vanen, dropped to the forest floor, unconscious. "Bad answer." He knew that in the eyes of the men before him he looked to be a monster, why not use it to his advantage? "Take him and go. I should kill you all now, rather than give you your lives. It would purge Dunland of some of its scum. Tell your leader that we will not die so easily." Legolas stood tall, his bow drawn again, another arrow on the string.

The men now leaderless did not stand for second orders. Taking their fallen they limped into the forest shadows. Legolas lowered his bow slightly, but kept tension on the string as he watched the men until out of site. Only then did he release the arrow when the air became silent once more, except for the crackling of the fire behind him.

Aragorn ran forward, Fasse no longer able to restrain him, "Legolas!" He grasped the elf by the shoulders, "Don't you ever do that again."

Legolas arched an eyebrow, "Save your life?"

Aragorn pursed his lips, "If it means getting yourself killed then yes."

"As long as you promise not to have meetings with fireplace hearths at inopportune times. Such as when there is a burning building about to fall on you."

"If I wasn't sure you weren't hurt," Aragorn chided, "I'd smack you for that." He really couldn't be sure. Legolas's face, clothes and hair were all more than a little blackened by the smoke of the fire. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Aragorn would have laughed at his friend's unusually disheveled state.

Fasse hurried to their side, his face wrinkled with worry, "Come, come. Do you always jest so soon after your lives are nearly forfeit? Oh, it doesn't matter. We must be away before they return to finish the job."

Legolas nodded his head in agreement, "Aye, but I do not think they will return tonight. After licking their hurts and reporting to their leader, I am sure they will try again if this situation is in the least bit connected with the what word you sent Gandalf."

Fasse's wrinkled face creased even more in thought, "Yes, yes, I suppose. But my cursed bones do not react kindly to the night air. All Istar wonder why the Valar have placed us in such human bodies, no offense friend…" The wizard trailed off, wracking his memory for a name, "I am so sorry, but I don't think I recall your name. Everything happened so quickly…Oh my, I do fear that I have been quite a rude host."

Aragorn laughed, "No need to apologize. I am Aragorn, currently of Imladris." He felt no need to conceal his true identity. If this was a trusted friend of Gandalf the Grey, then he was meant to be trusted.

"And I am Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," Legolas offered with a slight nod of his head to the wizard.

Fasse bobbed his head slowly, "Ah yes, I do remember Gandalf mentioning you two once before. Made quite the impression on him when you put a possum in his pillow while he was staying at Rivendell."

Legolas and Aragorn cast sheepish glances at each other, "That was a long time ago."

Fasse's wild eyebrows peaked almost to his hairline, "Is that so? Well, I would hope so, or I would wonder if I should have a protector from my protectors!"

---

After the belated introductions on the late 'battle field', they gathered the packs that Legolas and Aragorn had brought on Falmarin and Ralamir. Fasse then proposed a hidden sanctuary he knew of, which he had used often when the Dunlendings edged to close with their ravishing of the land.

For awhile they walked, speaking little, perchance that there were prying ears about in the forest.

They walked until they reached a steep cliff, about 12 feet high. A menagerie of shrubbery and odd plant life grew on narrow ledges covering most of cliff face. Fasse pushed his way left through the dense undergrowth along the base of the embankment. Aragorn, behind Fasse with Legolas last leading the horses, received many swats to the face and arms as Fasse trundled ahead. He seemed to forget that he had someone following him.

Just as Aragorn began to wonder if Fasse really knew where they were going. Then the wizard disappeared from site, as if he had just melted into the wall. Aragorn stood in front of the place where Fasse had vanished. At a glance it looked just like the rest of the cliff face, covered in shrubbery.

A hand suddenly latched on to the front of his tunic from inside the cliff. Aragorn was pulled into the shrubbery, but surprisingly, he did not hit a wall, but broke through the shrubs.

Legolas was left standing outside with Ralamir and Falmarin.

"Come in, come in. It's quite large enough for the horses as well," Fasse's voice was muffled.

Shrugging, Legolas spoke quietly to the two horses who were more than a little wary. Slowly, he was able to coax the horses to push through the shrubbery. Once through, he found himself with the horses, Aragorn and Fasse in a large open cavern like room. The ceiling was quite high enough for the horses.

Fasse, looking quite pleased with himself lit a lamp, then exclaimed in delight, "Yes, yes! I thought I left it here." The wizard hobbled to the wall where an old knobbed staff leaned. He turned back to face Legolas and Aragorn, his staff clutched in his hands. He wore a wide self-contented grin on his bushy face, "Isn't really a special staff, but seeing as how all the other Istar had one, and I did not receive one, I made my own."

A smile crept onto Aragorn's face as he observed the simple wizard puttering about the large room, lighting lamps and digging through dried foods, talking abstractly. Glancing to his left, he saw that Legolas had seated himself on a box, speaking soothingly to the two nervous horses.

"You never told me how you got out of the hut," Aragorn took a seat beside the elf.

Legolas shook his head in dismissal, "'Twas nothing, really. There's always another window." Then he turned to the man, "How is your head, you must have hit it rather hard."

"Trying to change the subject?" Aragorn eyed the elf with a grin, "To use your phraseology, 'Twas nothing'." For a moment they watched as Fasse let out a cackle as he found some item he thought lost. Absentmindedly, Legolas reached up to stroke the grey horses muzzle. Blood was left in the touch's wake. Aragorn started, "Legolas, I do not think you are the one to ask me how I am."

Legolas hastily wiped the streak of red from Falmarin's muzzle, "'Twas…"

"…Nothing. Yes I know. You really should expand your vocabulary Legolas." Before Legolas could retract his hands, Aragorn took them firmly, turning them palms upward. He frowned at the lacerations on the soft skin of the elf's hands, "Might you tell me how this happened?"

"I supposed I must have done it either when I broke the window, or when I jumped out. Doesn't matter…"

"…Either way."

Legolas shot him an annoyed glance, "Would you so kindly refrain from finishing my sentences?"

Aragorn favored him with a winsome smile. It was then when Fasse sat himself opposite of them, somehow carrying three plates balanced upon each other. "Do you always keep on hand so many odd supplies?" Inquired Aragorn.

"Of course. I suppose you could say that this is my supply room of sorts. I found it years back, likely before either of you were born, you as well young elf." He looked around thoughtfully, "Don't rightly know how it was formed, or made. But serves its purpose. I am most glad I bothered to buy those extra glass panels from my last trip to the closest village. Of course that was before they went…"

"Might you have some bandages in your supply?" interrupted Aragorn.

Fasse paused, looking upward as he wracked his mental inventory, "Yes, yes, of course." He bustled off burrowing through his boxes again, until he straightened with a grunt of satisfaction. "Yes, yes, knew it was here somewhere." As he handed the roll of cloth to Aragorn, he peered at the deep cuts on Legolas's palms, "Hmm, not pleasant I would guess."

While the wizard prattled on, Aragorn cleaned the elf's palms, applying salve from his saddlebags and wrapping them tightly, though not uncomfortable. "That should do," he said when he was finished.

Legolas examined the bandages unhappily, "I will be of no use with these cumbersome wads."

"Just hope you will not have to use them until we reach Imladris, where then you will have to ward of the wrath of Elrond when he sees the damage you have done to yourself."

Clumsily, Legolas dug into his tunic with his bandaged hands. From it he drew an envelope. Leaning forward, he handed it to Fasse, "I believe this belongs to you. Maybe you will be able to read it this time," he added with a smile.

"Please do not tell me you risked your life for a letter." Aragorn looked back at him slowly, not sure if he really wanted to know.

Legolas didn't answer. Fasse slowly scanned the letter then went back to read it more carefully. As he read, Legolas watched the wizard's face fall. After a few quiet moments, Fasse made an unidentifiable sound. "Well, well, looks like I might be stuck with you lads awhile longer." The wizard gave them a peaked look over the top of the paper.

"Would you mean telling us what you mean?" prodded Aragorn.

Fasse pursed his lips, "Tsk, tsk, so impatient the young sort are. Very well then. This is what it says:

'My friend Fasse,

I have received your notice and have taken it upon myself to share it with the Lord Elrond of Imladris. As you see, I have sent two young bodies to help your tiring bones in this dilemma. It is grave news, but I trust these two to do their best to help you.'"

Here Aragorn interrupted, holding up a hand, "Wait, Elrond gave me specific orders not to help, or get involved. I don't see…"

The Istar glared at him from over the parchment, "You would find out sooner if you would be quiet and listened. As I was saying…

'…We have told them not to get involved, but I doubt they will heed our advice. It is but wishful thinking.

I fear that there is even graver news to be shared with you now. It has now reached me that it is believed that one of our order is at the head of this evil in Dunland. We must know who, and stop him before he corrupts more.

But this leads me to the brunt and grossness of this discovery. Some believe they know who this traitor is, you.

I myself do not concur with them, but they will not listen to sound reason. That is also why I have sent these two I have spoke of. They are brave and above reproach. They know not of this turn yet. Explain it to them, and they will aid you. You must find the evidence of your innocence, I need not mention what the consequences would be.

Take care my friend and be safe.'" Traditionally, the letter ended with a G in the elvish rune.

Fasse heaved a sigh, his stout frame slouched while letting the letter drop into his lap, "I must say this is not unexpected that they would think so badly of me. I never was very prominent in the goings on of things. Never made it to the meetings either. But I had a good reason for all of that. Did I receive the gift of taming wild creatures into submission with the touch of my hand? No. Did I receive the gift of light feet? No, of course not! Oh, and a dare not think of what the White council will do to me when they bring me up as a traitor," he bemoaned.

Legolas patted the distraught wizard's knee, "Don't worry, friend. We will find your innocence in this. As Gandalf said, we'll do our best, and together we can shed some light on this." Aragorn - still finding this whole plot set up by both Gandalf and Elrond quite twisted - nodded in agreement.

"Well then," Fasse pushed himself to his feet, folding the letter, "That should make me feel a great deal better." Touching the corner of the parchment to a flame, the yellowed paper crinkled, turning to frail ash as the flame devoured it.

Aragorn stifled a yawn. The day all together had been far too long for his tastes. Morning of the next day was upon them, though it would still be hours till the sun peaked.

"Oh, I am sorry. I have been a terribly rude host," Fasse fretted. "I would see that you eat your fill and then take your rest. I can't very well have my two saviors fall dead from malnutrition."

Not long after a filling meal, Aragorn and Legolas lost themselves to sleep. They had no doubt that tomorrow would bring new adventures and difficulties. They would meet those trials, and come out stronger and closer than before. They had done it before, what was to stop them now.

---

This night had proved to be one of many emotions among the Dunlendings. In the hall of the chief of Dunland, two wills clashed once again. Vanen Horengof had paid little heed to his injury at the hands of the elf, and had wasted no time in bringing his demands before Borlanon.

"You have failed me and for this I will have your hide!" raged the chief.

Vanen's dark eyes flashed, "I am not yours to command. You forget my blood, Borlanon. If you threatened my life, I could easily take sanctuary in the Rohan where you could not have me. And if you tried to accuse me of a crime, the Rohirrim would listen to you not, for your word is mistrusted in that land as many others. I would also have you know that I would not have failed if you had not burdened me with your bumbling men."

The chief stood, his chair tipped behind him. He pointed a finger at the man before him, "You press my patience too far Horengof. I would take your haughty head from your shoulders if it was up to me."

Tempers clashed. The air seemed to grow hot around the two fuming men.

"Kill them, the old man, the human and the elf," the chief Dunlending growled. "I care not how, just do it and be not too obvious. I need not the wrath of the white wizard and that of the elven race upon my head when they find out your deed."

"If they find out," corrected the assassin. Vanen exaggerated a sweeping bow, "Very well then, my lord, I will see it done." A vile grin crept to his dark face, "With pleasure." He desired nothing more than to be-rid of them. But he would especially look forward to the disposal of the elf. He had caused far too much trouble to warrant an easy death.

TBC…

(Sips from one of the many coffee mugs thrown her way, with a self-contented smile she says, "See, that wasn't a bad cliffie, now was it? I'm not that vile." *wink wink*)