Title: As Shadows Draw Near

Author: WackyD

Rating: PG

Summary: A band of orcs begins attacking Minas Tirith, at the same time a strange epidemic begins to spread over the city. Will the cure be found, and the motives of the orcs uncovered? Please R&R!

Characters: Aragorn, Faramir, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Eowyn, and a new one called Rydrel. (No hobbits, sorry!)

"King Elessar?" The questing voice rose out of the darkness like a buoy, breaking the spell of silence that had been laid upon Aragorn.

            "Yes?" He replied calmly, his voice giving no sign that he was trying to still his heart, which was beating fast with surprise. He'd been so certain no one had been here but him. He had not even invited Arwen to this small, secluded garden on the outskirts of the palace. This place was his solace, his wall between him and the real world. Here he could forget his troubles, if only for an instant.

            "Aragorn, these guards wish to speak to you. I am sorry to disturb you, but it is exceedingly urgent." Recognizing the voice of Faramir, Aragorn wheeled to face the intruders.

            "What is it?" He asked shortly, still slightly miffed at being cheated of his privacy. He hadn't thought anyone had known this place was here but him.

            "An army of orcs rides from the far north, on a direct path to clash with Minas Tirith, sir." The first of two soldiers spoke, saluting smartly as he did so. He was dressed in the livery of a palace guard, bearing the badge of a captain upon his muscled chest.

            "How many? And why?" Aragorn asked bluntly, fighting the urge to sink his head into his hands and scream. This was the last thing he needed, not while he was so busy already…

            "They number forty score, milord. As for their reasoning, who knows what churns in the dank minds of orcs? They have been sent by an overlord, they may have come of their own free will." The second guard said quietly.

            Aragorn muttered a few Elvish curses under his breath, but then straightened as he caught the guard's words. "You say they are only 800 strong? That is hardly enough to poise a threat." He nearly scoffed, eyebrows raised in two elegant arches.

            "Shall we leave the army to deal with them then?" The guard captain asked, looking slightly relieved. He had obviously expected to encounter wrath at disturbing his king's peace.

            "Yes…but wait!" Aragorn exclaimed as the two turned to go. "Tell the troops to take as many prisoners as possible. I am interested to find why these orcs have come here, knowing they cannot hope to defeat us, as they are hopelessly outnumbered."

            They nodded, bowed, then stepped sprightly off, soon melting into the patchwork of darkness.

            Faramir cleared his throat, and Aragorn started. He'd almost forgotten the Steward was here. "You seem confident that these orcs are nothing serious." Faramir said casually.

            Aragorn eyed his friend suspiciously. "They are outnumbered, and the guards mentioned nothing special about them. Why do you question my confidence?"

            Faramir frowned. "I do not mean to insult you. It was merely a thought of mine that small parties of orcs are not commonly found attacking large, well-defended cities, not since the Ring was destroyed. This whole thing seems quite peculiar."

            "Now that you have voiced that, it rests uneasily in my mind as well." Aragorn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But there is nothing we can do about it, at least not until morning. Go now, and get some rest."

            Dismissed, Faramir walked slowly off, disappearing into the night. Aragorn watched him go until the man's receding figure could no longer be seen. Then, with a deep sigh, he turned back to his now public garden.

            Glancing up at the stars, Aragorn found them covered with a blanket of sullen gray clouds. The stars always comforted him, winking brightly no matter how depressing things seemed back on Middle Earth. To see they had been hidden to him was not at all pleasing.

            Opening a door in the garden's stone wall, Aragorn left his thoughts of isolation behind and trotted into the palace.

**********

            Legolas woke with a start in his guest room. He and Gimli had been visiting the palace and Aragorn, and had only just arrived three days ago. His rest had not been easy since he had stayed here—strange visions of a cloud of darkness, tendrils of it curling toward him, had woken him repeatedly.

            But this night it was different. He sensed something drawing near besides orcs—he'd feel their presence anywhere, and had already informed some soldiers stationed at the palace of it. This new feeling was of something he had encountered only a few times before. Sorcery, and evil sorcery at that.

            It was moving steadily towards the city, that much he knew. But what it was, and what it would do, he could not predict.

            A loud snore from the room across the corridor informed the elf that Gimli, at least, was not plagued by troublesome dreams. For a moment, Legolas almost wished he was a carefree dwarf, but then scoffed the idea aside. Who would want to dwell in the bowels of the earth, never to seek out the sunlight?

            He heard a door open somewhere, and knew it to be Aragorn, returning from wherever he'd been brooding. His sensitive ears picked up Arwen's murmured welcome to her husband, then all was silent in the palace.

            Suddenly the stone walls seemed unbearably confining, and Legolas crept to the window and opened the latch. Slipping out the large opening, bare feet gripped the stonework below him to find support. Letting his hands grip the windowsill, and his feet to hang, Legolas twisted his head to see that the ground was only a paltry few feet below him.

            He dropped, landing silently on the balls of his feet. The grass welcomed an elf's touch, making no sound as he strided through it. He wanted to see woods again, but there were none near here. The next best thing was a garden, so he crept to the first one he found, on the outskirts of the palace.

            It had obviously just been occupied, as footprints were easily identified in the soft dirt. Recognizing the tread of Aragorn's boots, Legolas leaned down to examine them. So this was where he'd been hiding, and it appeared he'd been discovered. Three other kinds of boots were imprinted near his.

            Straightening up, Legolas glanced around the small garden. Aragorn must come here for solitude, for there were no stone benches or small nooks to perch in. Walking over to the flowerbed, the tall elf smiled as he recognized some small yellow sprigs of elanor, the flower Aragorn had presented to Arwen when they had met.

            Elanor was also the name of Sam's eldest daughter, Legolas mused to himself. It had been long since he'd seen the faithful hobbits, and a small part of him wanted to journey to the Shire and see how they fared.

            But the largest part of him overruled that feeling by emitting a strong desire to return to the woods. He sighed; recalling his promise to visit with Aragorn for at least a month, for it had also been long since he had spoken with the King.

            Sitting on a moderately suitable rock near the back of the garden, Legolas allowed himself to relax as he surrounded himself with his treasured nature.

**********

            Tammith peered around the darkness of his small home. Near his own bed lay his sister's cot, where she lay breathing heavily.

            His mother made no sound as she tossed fitfully on her bed, but Tammith sensed her agitation, for his mother had been stricken with a mysterious ailment.

            It was nothing like Tam had ever seen before, for the throat became too sore to speak, the eyes watered continuously, the head throbbed beyond bearing, and the whole body ached with a vengeance, or so his mother described it. She would not let her son or husband drag her to the House of Healing, claiming she was much too unimportant to visit the healers there.

            So young Tam had to wait, and hope his mother became immune to the disease. Tam sighed, and closed his tired eyes, determined to let sleep carry away all his troubles.

            But plaguing him for a moment before he fell into dreams was the twinge of pain in his head, and the momentary itching of his throat…

Author's Notes: Well, it's a bit odd but I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will up as soon as possible, and please R&R! It makes me feel SPECIAL! *ahem* Also, I'm looking for a beta reader. Must be quite familiar with Lord of the Rings. Thankies!