DISCLAIMER – I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or Middle Earth place names etc

'I don't understand,' said Druluk as he followed Thrrl down the corridor, 'Minutes ago I was a prisoner, and now…'

'You took the oath,' she replied, simply,

'And that's enough?'

She turned on him suddenly, fixing him with an intense stare

'You meant it, didn't you?'

'I…yes…' replied Druluk, miserably.

'The punishment for oath breaking is death.'

'What oath did my friends break?' he said under his breath. Either Thrrl did not hear or she chose to ignore this.

'The meeting will resume in half an hour,' she said, 'do you want to eat something before then?'

'I…uh…'

'The canteen is through that doorway,' she said, pointing. Druluk looked at it, then back at her, questioningly.

'Go on, I'll join you in a moment,' she waved him away. Druluk noticed that another orcwoman was approaching, gesturing urgently at Thrrl. He made his way slowly through the door, catching the first words of their conversation as he entered the canteen

'Thrrl, the prisoners…'

He quickened his pace, not wanting to hear any more.

He was sitting at a table on his own, staring at his plate of boiled fish, when Thrrl joined him after a few minutes. She was noticeably more agitated than before.

'What was that about?' he asked. Thrrl did not answer immediately, but drummed her fingers on the table. At last she spoke, punctuating her sentence with yet more fingernail percussion.

'The (tap) elves (tap tap) have made an attempt to escape.'

Druluk felt his heart leap. Then he remembered something

'You tricked me! You told me they were dead!'

'They are as good as dead. The poison will take effect and they won't get far.'

'But do you know they drank the water?'

'In all (tap tap tap)…in all likelihood they did.'

Druluk stared morosely at his fish again. But there was still hope, Thrrl's twitchiness confirmed that.

'Did you want to kill them?' he asked suddenly, unsure quite what gave him the idea.

'It was a collective decision.'

'But what does that mean?'

'In order for anything to be decided, all 10 council members must agree to it. The decision must be unanimous.'

'So you did want to.'

'It's not quite that simple.'

'I don't understand'

Thrrl sighed, and leant back on the stool she sat on so that it balanced on two of its four legs.

'The council is chosen randomly. Out of the fifty thousand of us. And each council only serves for a month. This is probably my one chance to have any influence over…over anything...'

She paused, but Druluk said nothing, and she continued

'Sometimes you have to be a bit…flexible. Make it easier for some decisions to go through so that in the future other people make it that bit easier for …'

'…make it that bit easier for you…?' interrupted Druluk through clenched teeth. Thrrl could not meet his eye.

'Two lives are something to be…flexible…over?'

'Druluk, you've got to understand…so much more is at stake…'

'So much more?'

'Druluk please…At least 6 members of the council think that going to war is a great idea. They want to march to Mordor to join Sauron…'

'And what's that got to do with anything?'

'I am one of the only ones who strongly opposes it…and now that I'm owed a few favours there's more of a chance that…'

'But if it has to be unanimous then you can stop it alone! Just like you could have stopped them killing my friends!'

She suddenly slammed her hand onto the table, palm down,

'You know nothing!'

'Then explain to me…'

'It's not enough just to stop a decision going through, I need to be able to get decisions put through myself…'

'Like what?'

Thrrl pressed her lips together tightly so that they became a narrow crease. She started tapping her fingers on the table again, indecision etched into her expression…

'Tell me!' Druluk grabbed her hand and forced it flat against the table. There was a sudden loud bang as Thrrl let her stool drop back onto four legs. She jerked her hand free and stood up. Druluk swallowed hard in fear. But she merely gestured for him to stand up too.

'We had better head back to the council room,' she said loudly, then added under her breath 'we'll talk on the way.'

………………………..

It was already night when Ylfronir reached the edge of the Golden Wood. He had found the Nimrodel, and followed it down along its southern bank. But now he realised that the deep fast flowing water lay between him and the main body of the wood. Even alone he doubted whether he could have swum or waded across safely, and when carrying Nathradril it was out of the question. He placed her carefully onto the ground and considered his options.

As he stood, noticing for the first time how much his wrist was really hurting from the way he had twisted it to open up the cell door, he heard a faint rustling behind him. Wearily he raised his hands above his head.

'I seek sanctuary in the realm of Lorien,' he called, 'For myself, and my injured companion Nathradril, who left here but a week ago…'

'So it is an elf,' came a sneering voice, 'In that stained and torn cloak and with no bow one could not be blamed for…'

'Please, enough of the trademark sarcasm,' Ylfronir's voice betrayed how exhausted he felt, 'Haldir does it so much better than you, whoever you are…'

He heard someone jump down from a tree, but could not summon the energy to look round. Instead the sentry walked around to face him.

'My name,' the newcomer said pointedly, 'is Celidel.'

'Well, Celidel,' said Ylfronir, trying to stay calm, 'My friend Nathradril is gravely ill, and…'

'…is that an orc blade?' interrupted Celidel, in horrified tones, indicating the orc sword which Ylfronir had stuffed into his belt,

'Yes,' said Ylfronir simply, 'I need to get Nathradril to…'

'What treachery is this?'

'Celidel!' shouted Ylfronir, 'she could die!'

The sentry looked around, as if hoping that someone else would appear to make the decision for him.

'Dammit, Celidel, I'm an elf! She's an elf! Look!' he drew the blade. Celidel flinched, but Ylfronir threw it past him, so that it splashed into the river, 'it's gone, now will you please…'

'You cast an orc weapon into the Nimrodel…?'

'Aaargh!' Ylfronir groaned in frustration, and bent down to pick up Nathradril once more, 'look if you won't help me…' he staggered slightly, light though her body was, as he took her weight. 'then I'll be on my way…' He took a few faltering steps back upstream.

'Hey, stop…' Celidel darted to block his path, 'Look, this is a serious matter, but if she's really ill…'

'Oh, you noticed then,'

'Just…let me…' Celidel reached out, and Ylfronir let him carry Nathradril

'You can come with me, but you will have to answer to the Lady Galadriel for your conduct.'

'I'm quaking in my boots,' muttered Ylfronir, as he followed Celidel along the river bank.

Within a few minutes Celidel halted.

'There's a rope hidden in the undergrowth just there,' he said, indicating with his foot. 'Pick it up and tie one end around that tree.'

Ylfronir did as he asked.

'Now throw the other end across the river.'

Ylfronir tossed the rope at the other bank, but it fell short and splashed into the water. He dragged it out, now soaked, recoiled it and prepared to throw again, all the time under Celidel's condescending gaze. This time it reached its target, and another elf hiding in the bushes on the other side of the bank sprang out to catch it. This elf tied the other end around a tree on the other side so that a taut tightrope stretched across the churning torrent.

Without a word to Ylfronir, Celidel stepped onto the rope, still carrying Nathradril, and made his way delicately across. Ylfronir's heart was in his mouth – of course elves had an excellent sense of balance, but when carrying someone else? However, he and Nathradril made it safely to the other side. Then he turned back to call to Ylfronir

'Are you coming, or shall I come back and carry you?'

Ylfronir simply scowled back, and stepped onto the tightrope himself. Normally this would have been a piece of cake, but he was shattered, and thanks to his inexpert throwing technique, the rope was wet and slippery. He had to make his way across painfully slowly and twice he nearly toppled off. He did not try to disguise his relief at reaching the other bank.

'You're as bad as the dwarf we had here the other day,' said the elf from the other side of the river, jokingly.

'Dwarf?' asked Ylfronir, his mind spinning,

'Never mind,' said Celidel, 'Come, we must hurry, it is no longer safe in these parts in the hours of darkness,'

'Oh, you don't say!'

Celidel addressed the other elf, 'I'll send back someone else to take up your post. In the meantime, you had better patrol the other side of the Nimrodel. I've got to take these two to the city.'

'Understood.'

……………..

Thrrl was leading him back to the Council room by a different route from that with which they had left it. Druluk had begun to wonder whether she was taking him there at all, perhaps he was to be thrown back in jail. He had absolutely no reason to trust her, after all. But suddenly she stopped

'I think…' she began, looking around, 'that it's safe to talk here.'

'Alright…' said Druluk slowly,

'You remember how I said that the 10 members of the council are chosen randomly?'

'Yes…'

'Well, actually only 9 are chosen at a time. One member of the old council always remains to be part of the new council. It's the only way to achieve some sort of continuity.'

'OK…'

'But there is no law that says it must be a different council member who remains behind each time.'

'OK…'

'And for the last year, a certain council member has served on every council. Her name is Glonya.'

'Which one was she?'

'The one who told you about Sauron's offer in the first place.'

The one with the soft voice, thought Druluk to himself.

'But surely people, y'know, make a fuss…'

'Fewer than you would think.'

'But...'

'Often people don't want to be selected to be part of the council in the first place. They are only too glad to let someone like Glonya take control.'

'But how does she get chosen to remain behind each time?'

'I don't know. But can't you see the danger?'

'I'm not sure what you're getting at…'

'She can do anything she wants. If she can't get a unanimous decision with one council, all she needs to do is wait until one comes along which will agree with her.'

'OK…'

'So you see how important it is that I get support within this council…'

'Um...'

'She can't do it again! She can't stay! We have to make a stand. Take this Sauron thing, I know that she likes the idea. And I can't let her sit around until she gets a council which will agree to take us to war…But to stop her I need the whole council on my side. So you see…' her voice cracked slightly, 'why I had to make some…compromises…'

Druluk said nothing. His mind was reeling with all these complications. He looked at Thrrl, who was compulsively grinding the heel of her boot against the wall as she talked. During their brief conversation she had already scraped off a small pile of sandy dust.

'You don't understand, Druluk, what it's like. This responsibility. The greater' she dug her heel in even more viciously, 'good,' she spat. 'Fifty thousand, Druluk, have you any idea?'

Her wild stare was frightening, yet at the same time, something in it reminded Druluk of how he'd felt back in that cavern at Isengard, as he realised what he'd created.

'I…' he began, but then Thrrl seemed to shake herself out of it and return to her former brusqueness.

'We must not be late for the Council. You must make the case against joining Sauron as strongly as you can.'

She stalked off along the passageway, and Druluk had no option but to follow.