Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of Middle Earth, they belong to the estate of JRR Tolkien. Tanathel, however, is my creation and I would like to be asked before she is used in any other fic.

Author's note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe of my own making. It is after the War of the Ring and several years into the Fourth Age. Boromir will feature in this story, and if you wish to learn how he survived, you will have to read. This will be mostly movie-verse, since no one knows what happened to Saruman after the Ents trashed Isengard in PJ's world.

Dedications: To Evendim, who helped me find the courage to seriously write in this fandom, and who has given me great fun with her own AU series. And to my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to allow my stories to see the light of day. I couldn't have done it without you, ladies, and I love you both for it. Don't ever change.

Author's note: For all those waiting patiently for updates to By Honor Betrayed, I'm sorry it's taking so long. I will be finishing it, but it is no longer the top priority in my life. I just need to step back from it for a while.

Revolution and Retribution

Chapter Five: More Old Friends

"Now just hold on a minute!" Merry barked as he swiftly countered Tanathel's move with a chair. "We're here to help!" A sudden jerk of the wrist and the legs of the chair had neatly disarmed the startled Ranger. Pippin grabbed the sword as it flew away and pulled it behind Strider, and Merry pinned Tanathel to the wall with the chair. "Now, if we could just get a word in, lady, you would see that we came here, if not completely unarmed, at least with no intent to cause harm to Strider." He held the chair firmly in place, though the woman would have been able to make quick work of him had she been able to get her hands free. They were pinned neatly between the slats of the little wooden chair and the wall.

Strider collapsed onto the bedframe, struggling to control the laughter that threatened and failing miserably. He was forcefully reminded of the scene in Hollin where the terrible two had neatly tripped up Boromir, rendering him flat on his back and unarmed within seconds, and had then proceeded to give Aragorn the same treatment when he attempted to separate them. He rolled backward, holding his belly against the torture of laughter, then went suddenly silent and solemn as his fingers closed about the charm he always wore at his neck.

Merry and Pippin noted the change, as did Tanathel, and by unspoken agreement they ceased their antics and closed in about Strider, offering support and comfort in the only way they knew how.

Hobbits being very tactile creatures, they enfolded the grieving man in tight embraces, Pippin stroking his hair lightly and crooning some nonsensical song about cares vanishing into the mist. Merry simply held Aragorn, his eyes closed tightly against the pain he felt coming from his friend.

Tanathel withdrew to the far side of the room, settling herself in a chair by the fire and regarding the flames silently, wishing for a pipe. These Hobbits were amazing creatures, she mused. From laughter to sorrow in the space of a breath, yet somehow remaining quite untouched by either. Their quiet strength permeated the room as they consoled their friend.

Silence reigned until a discreet knock was heard at the door. Tanathel quickly went to the doorway, setting herself ready beside it in case of trouble, and the Hobbits made themselves scarce, keeping out of sight behind the bed. Aragorn nodded slightly to Tanathel, who threw the door wide and grabbed for their unexpected guest, only to find herself holding open air as the new arrival easily sidestepped her and moved into the room. She closed the door quickly, blocking the exit, her hand on the dagger in her belt, waiting for a sign from her lord.

The hooded figure regarded her steadily, but she could see no trace of the face beneath the hood. It was unnerving to say the least, and she felt her grip tightening on the hilt of her weapon as it turned away from her to approach Strider.

She was moving closer to the stranger, determined not to risk her King, when Strider's upraised hand halted her in her tracks. She waited, tense, almost quivering, while he looked the stranger up and down.

An eternity of a moment later, the hood was thrown back and Strider rose to embrace his friend. "Mae Govannen, Legolas," he murmured softly. "Dare I hope you have brought others?"

"I came to fetch you to them," Legolas Greenleaf replied evenly as he took in his friend's haggard appearance. "I have news. You are being hunted, Aragorn. A company of Uruk-hai was seen leaving Isengard two days past, with a Man at the head of their column. I know not who he is, but he wears the livery of the White Hand, and the Uruks obey his every command." He placed a gentle hand on Aragorn's forearm. "Come, be at peace for a time. None shall find you in Eryn Lasgalen, the Greenwood that is my home. And from there, we can begin plans to restore you to your throne."

"We have already begun," Aragorn said simply as he gestured to Tanathel. "Merry, Pippin, you know what to do."

"Oh, aye, we do," Pippin burst out quickly. "I've been recalled, just as you might expect. Probably want to find out how loyal I am to ye, Sire. Instructions?"

"Do just as we planned, the last time we discussed the possibility. The remote possibility, I believe you mentioned." Aragorn nodded his head toward the Hobbit, his eyes shadowed. "Take no action to suggest that you are anything but loyal to your post. Whoever is holding the strings will order you as I have, Peregrin, Guard of the Citadel. The deception must hold. You must appear loyal to the uniform and not the man."

"And I've my pony in the stables, being loaded with provisions for a trip to Rohan. My gear is in my room here, with Pip's. I'm off for my yearly tour at first light. And while I'm there, I can have a discreet word with Eomer, see what he's heard. Might even be able to rally a few troops to patrol along the border." Merry gave Aragorn a wink.

"Good. Tanathel, I have a special errand for you." She brought herself to attention, a bit overwhelmed by the fact that it seemed everything had been planned out well in advance of the actual rebellion. "First, you must see Sam in Hobbiton. From there ---"

"Sam's given us a bit of a message for ye, Aragorn," Pippin broke in quickly. "He says to tell you civil war in Gondor is ridiculous, and he'll keep his ear to the ground. He also said he's arranged to have some of the more adventurous youngsters listening for rumors and gossip, and will send word with one of them if there's any hint of who's behind this."

"Saruman." Tanathel's voice was flat and cold. "If he has sent out a troop to track the King, then he is the power behind this."

"I was getting to that," Pippin said quickly, trying not to snap. "Sam says that he'll send word with one of the young'uns whenever he hears anything to do with Saruman, or whatever is happening in Gondor. He also said, and we've thought this for a bit now, that it's time the Shirefolk took notice of things beyond their own borders. What threatens the world outside our borders, soon enough will threaten us. And if a small few of us can keep the rest in blissful ignorance, it's a small price to pay."

Aragorn smiled grimly. "Then do what you must. Tanathel, I must ask you to undertake a dangerous journey. I will not order you to do this. I cannot in good conscience do so. Nevertheless, I must ask."

Tanathel stiffened her stance and gave him her full parade ground attention. "I am a Ranger of Ithilien, my lord, and sworn to your service. What are your orders, sir?"

TBC