Rising Storm

by Bill-the-Pony

*Completed* The shadow of Mordor is growing and Dunland is now allied with orcs. Legolas and Aragorn, caught in the midst of this twisted web of lies, must uncover the villians, and free the innocent before their own lives are cut short.

6. Rising Tempers

-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'. :)

Additional Note: This is set a few years at most before the Fellowship of the Ring and the beginning of the War of the Ring. So if that clears up any confusion… As well as, Aragorn is a Ranger by now, that is why you will see him referred to as Strider. Also, from terrain on most maps, I think that Dunland was more plain land than forest, but I'm setting the 'city' of Dunland

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Rising Storm

Part 6

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The rest of the night passed uneventfully, Aragorn had now shared all he had heard from the Dunlending, Ollen, with Legolas, including the proof that a wizard was involved.

Morning dawned shortly after they had retired again, though little sleep was to be had. The sky remained grey and stormy, though the rain had periodically slacked to drizzle.

Legolas straightened, his ears catching a recognizable sound. He looked to Aragorn who heard it as well. "Hoof beats, riding fast."

The horses' ears swiveled forward. Their heads jerked upward as they sensed the other horse on the road. Legolas slung his bow over his back and trotted towards the direction of the road, with Aragorn following.

Staying just inside the protection of the trees, they arrived just in time to see the rider approaching at a gallop, heading towards the city. The black horse was lathered with sweat and its nostrils flared as one who had been running long. The rider was cloaked, but his hood was thrown back to reveal a bearded man who looked to be of Dunlending blood. He bore little gear.

"He must be the messenger Fasse spoke of," Aragorn whispered.

"Why would you say that? He could be any messenger." Legolas looked after the rider as he raced past and disappeared around the curve of the road.

"Because," Aragorn shrugged, "I have a hunch."

Legolas cast the ranger a sidelong glance, "I think I for one, have had enough of your hunches."

Never-the-less, the elf followed the human back to their makeshift camp. Hastily, they covered the ashes of their previous fire and collected any supplies they might need. For speed's sake, they opted to ride closer to the city than leave the horse again outside in a secluded spot.

Mounted, they set out at a trot, picking their way more directly than the road, through the trees. By Aragorn's approximation, this would cut a good ten minutes off their short trek. He hoped that they might reach the city a short while after the messenger did.

For once it seemed, Aragorn's scheme worked. They found a safe place for the horses then quickly made their way to the city gates. Just as they passed through the high gates, they saw the messenger ride to the steps of the Chief's lodge and hurriedly jump from the horse's back, flashing what looked to be a letter at the guards. The guards immediately straightened bring to bare by their shoulders their lances. A steward of the house greeted the man, then led him into the house. Obviously, Aragorn's 'hunch' had been accurate.

The rain had increased, aiding them again with their disguise. The two conversed quietly as they walked unhurriedly towards the house. "It seems you were right," Legolas said.

"We need to see that letter."

"Of course," Legolas said wryly. "But how are we to do that, safely?" He added with emphasis, the words of Lord Elrond and Gandalf coming to mind.

"Safety cannot always come first, when another's life is on the line," insisted Aragorn.

"It will come first when it is ordered by your father and Mithrandir."

"Legolas! You cannot help without risk! Aiding someone, as Mithrandir ordered, requires risk at times. Surely you understand this." Aragorn shot back hotly. The tension between them tightened.

"Then what would you say we do now?" Legolas sighed. There was no reasoning with the human when he was in this mood.

"Get that letter," Aragorn said simply.

"That would mean venturing inside that house, full of guards and hot headed Dunlendings, not to mention perhaps a few orcs."

Aragorn favored him with a slight tweak of his lips, "Exactly."

Legolas pulled Aragorn down a lesser-populated road. "Have you lost your senses Estel?"

Aragorn broke free of Legolas's grip on his cloak. "There is nothing else to do!"

"You are right," the elf sighed. He knew that this was their only other option besides hijacking the messenger and forcing him at sword point to reveal the name of his lord was. A new look twisted Legolas's face, neither anger nor frustration, but pained distress. "Estel," Legolas said slowly, weighing his words carefully, "I will not lie to you. I was told to protect you, you know I would, even if I hadn't been asked. Because of the importance of your life, I cannot let you go into that house. I simply cannot allow it."

Aragorn gritted his teeth, "And you think I can let you go in alone as you are about to propose? What about my loyalty to you? Do you expect me to disregard that just because of my heritage and my so called 'importance'?"

A sad look passed across the fair features of the elf. "No, I do not expect you to understand, just forgive me." Before Aragorn had a chance to struggle, Legolas twisted Aragorn around, pinching a nerve area at the base of Aragorn's skull. The ranger dropped like a stone, unconscious.

Gathering Aragorn in his arms he stole down the empty street and out of the city by a back way, blessedly unseen. His feet carried him to the place they had left the horses. Falmarin nickered softly at the elf's arrival. Ralamir became instantly agitated when the horse saw his master in such a helpless state. "Worry not friend," Legolas spoke to the horse as he lifted the man to Ralamir's back. "He is fine." He patted the bay on his strong shoulder, "Take him back to Fasse. Stay off the road and make sure not to let him fall," He directed Ralamir, who eyed him warily. Aragorn would stay unconscious for quite a time longer, hopefully until Ralamir brought him to the wizard. Aragorn would undoubtedly turn Ralamir around if he woke too soon.

"Wanne!" He instructed the horse. Ralamir looked at him one last time, then took off at a fast, but smooth walk, careful of his burden.

Falmarin looked to his master, unsure of what to do. Legolas smiled at the grey, "Don't fret so Falmarin, they will be fine, I'm confident in Ralamir."

Falmarin snorted and shoved his head against the elf's chest, as if saying "But do you know what you're doing now?"

Legolas patted the horse's neck, "Maybe, but as long as I'm getting him out of harm's way, I suppose it's at least close to the right thing." Rubbing behind the horse's ear he asked Falmarin a favor, "If you would, wait here for me. I do not know when I will be coming back," he did not wish to outright say, if. "But if days pass, go to Fasse as well." Again he smiled at the horse, "Just use common sense."

Falmarin bobbed his head, but stared at him woefully. He looked far from joyous about this turn. Legolas pushed on Falmarin's strong shoulder, "Go find somewhere out of site."

The horse walked a distance, then stopped to look back at his master, dark eye's seeming to bare a frown of disapproval. Legolas waved him forward, then turned back towards the city, his back to the horse. He hated himself for the physical pain he had momentarily cause Aragorn, but he knew it would be but a pin-prick compared to the outrage the man would feel when he woke back in the supply cave of Fasse. He had given his word to Mithrandir and Lord Elrond. He had no intention of going back upon it. Besides, he reasoned with himself, he was more suited for this. One body, would be less noticed than two, not to mention that he would be able to travel faster and more silently than Aragorn. He would never had said so to Aragorn's face, since it would likely grate on the man's frustration even more.

He looked to the city. Legolas knew his job, and as impossible as it seemed he would do it, for both Aragorn's sake and Fasse's.

Legolas spent the next few hours, scouting and studying the house of Borlanon. From the number of guards stationed at each corner and at every visible entry, Borlanon was not a careless man, perhaps even paranoid for his safety. There were few windows, and approximately two cellars, two sentries guarded each of these possible entries. Legolas was sure that two against himself were simple odds, but he had also noticed, that inside the windows were two more guards. Who knew how many more perused the hallways and corridors who would be alerted at the slightest scuffle?

But there was one opening left relatively unguarded. The peaked roof of the multi-wing building sported four large chimneys. Legolas had no assurance that these chimneys were not locked or barred in some way, but at the moment, it seemed his safest entry. The trick was getting to the roof without being seen. He had charted a path from his observations and timed the passing of the patrolling guards. If all went according to plan, he would have a clear shot with a space of two minutes to make a dash to some conveniently placed food crates waiting to be stored in the cellar nearby. The difficulty would be the two sentries standing a few feet away guarding the cellar door. His solution to this was a palm-sized stone.

As for his escape, that was the one bright spot. He had observed that there seemed to be no hindrance for those passing out of the building. Perhaps it was because of Borlanon's belief that no one he did not wish could get inside.

Legolas waited from his vantage point for the guard to pass on his rounds. The moment the sentry walked past him, he ran low diagonally towards the crates. Sliding behind them, he waited and listened for any sign that he had been spotted. When the patrolling guard came back and turned back again. Resetting his two minutes, he launched the stone accurately. It bounced noisily against the opposite wall of an inn. As planned it went unnoticed except for the sound. The guards turned towards the disturbance, momentarily distracted.

With light, soundless steps he flew up the boxes then coiled back and sprung from the top crate. He landed in a slight crouch on the slanted rooftop. Even he, an elf, could not completely muffle the slight thump at his landing. He stood completely still, low against the roof, listening. He knew not if he should feel relieved or worried that things had gone so smoothly.

After the short pause he crawled rapidly up the slope of the roof. Thankfully, the incline was just steep enough to hide him from view on the opposite side of the building, but not difficult to scale. He spared a brief glance backwards, the patrolling guard had just passed again, and the two sentries had returned to their post, oblivious of his presence.

Here he stopped in the relative safety of the joining crevasse of the main roof and an adjoining wing. Hunkering down, he surveyed his options. Chimney one was out of the question, due to the smoke rising from it. Chimney two was a possibility, but it was too far over to the busier side of the house. Being seen would be a greater risk. Chimney three was also out of the question, third closest, but it also puffed grey smoke. The fourth and last option was the farthest, but it held the best position.

Eyeing the street below once more, he took off just below the ridge of the main roof. A few seconds later he dove behind the chimney. It was soot blackened, but was cool to the touch and just wide enough at the top. It was a good thing he had come and not Aragorn. Estel would have had little to no chance of squeezing in. Once again, he scanned the surrounding streets for prying eyes. Coast clear, he steeled himself and slid into the long narrow shoot. Bracing his back against one side of the shoot, and his feet on the other side with his hands pressed against the blackened walls to the sides of him. Slowly he began inching down the long black shaft.

Lower and lower he slid. The back of his tunic and cloak becoming blackened by the thick soot. Breathing the thick air threatened to choke him.

Below him, he heard something that made his heart thud to his stomach. Muffled voices raised and fell in a heated argument, in the very room he was about to drop down into. He resisted the urge to slam his head back against the wall, cursing himself for his carelessness. He had not even take the time to listen for voices in the room! Now, he was half way down the shaft, precariously wedged in choking soot. The only thing keeping him from plummeting into a fireplace and then being decapitated by wild Dunlendings, was the strength of his back and legs.

His only option was to wait. And wait. And wait…

Minutes dragged on. His back burned, and his calves and thighs ached from the strain. Then with alarm as he was able to pick out a few words he realized that he was about to drop into the very stateroom of the Lord Borlanon, who was currently occupying it.

After what felt like ages, the voices faded, followed by the bang of a closing door. He waited a few minutes longer, listening intently. Then slowly, he began inching his way down. He winced when a dusting of soot sprinkled down. Lower and lower he maneuvered. Sparing a glance down he saw with relief the hearth. His legs threatened to seize up when he stepped down and put weight on them. Crouching, with hardly enough room, he removed the fire shield and stepped out cautiously. Looking about, he found his observations from the chimney to be true.

The room was large and nicely furnished, belaying the grunge of the exterior of the house. He could see only one door leading in or out. What caught his attention was the large desk set in front of the hearth. It was covered in parchments and bound notebooks. If Legolas had not been rushed, he would have found it intriguing to read through the many records, but pressed for time as he was, he dare not.

Then he felt reason to sing the praises of Illuvitar. What he had thought to be a trouble had turned out to be a blessing. Here, before him, was the letter laying open to the eye on the desk in an empty room. Scanning the parchment quickly he then was assured that this was indeed the letter he had come for. The information he found was alarming, but all he needed to clear Fasse of any doubt.

Then with sinking realization he saw that the letter bore no name or seal besides a blank, broken drop of wax. Surely, as he had surmised, there would be no name. The chances of the rider being attacked and the letter being viewed by unwanted eyes - such as his own - would be too great.

Hardly had he read the letter and tucked into the folds of his cloak, did the door bang open and armed guards flooded about him. In the doorway stood a dark faced man flanked by a richly dressed Dunlending, even behind them was a passel of armed men.

Legolas was cornered; his knives would do him little good here against these odds. He had walked ignorantly into a trap.

TBC…

(There we go, you might be able to categorize that as a cliffie…all in your opinion.)

Note to 'e': Thank you for your critical eye. To explain why Aragorn did not speak of his findings was in order to keep his friend from anymore worry, albeit that would not be a good reason in itself. He believed that he also did not need to at the time because he thought Legolas to know of this. I'm sorry if I did not make this clear in the story. And as far as Fasse's character goes…it's fiction! I know that there is only Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast and the other two but for this I created another Istar. : ) Your comment of "Honorary Istar" cracked me up! I love that. Hope this clears some stuff up. Thanks!

Thanks also to everyone else who reviewed. I know this part was short and kind of stinky, but I didn't know how to change it. Oh well. Blame it on the writer's block.