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

Dawn was breaking as they reached Galadhrim. Celidel had long tired of taunting Ylfronir, who was beyond caring in any case. They passed through the city gate without comment. Then Celidel turned

'I must take Nathradril to the place of healing.'

'I want to stay with her…'

'You must explain yourself to the Lord and Lady.'

'Right now…?'

Another elf appeared at Ylfronir's elbow, as if from nowhere.

'Right now,' affirmed Celidel. He gave a sign to the other elf. Ylfronir felt a firm hand take his arm. He shook it off, saying

'Alright! I'll go.'

Ylfronir followed the other elf along the winding stone paths between the trees. All was grey and seemed as insubstantial as mist in the dawn light. His thoughts were full of Nathradril. He focussed on that worry rather than let the bewildered agony of Druluk's betrayal occupy his mind. But however much he…

'Are you listening to me?'

The other elf was speaking to him.

'I…'

'I said, did you want to clean yourself up a bit before coming into the presence of the Lady Galadriel?'

Ylfronir inspected his clothes. They were, it had to be admitted, filthy. He ran one hand through his hair, and came to an abrupt halt as tangles caught at his fingers. And across his shoulders was the ridiculous one half of a cloak that he had left after their escape from the orc cell, fastened with his…MEND badge. He looked at the badge thoughtfully, removed it, breathed on it, and polished it on his sleeve. Then he pinned it back in place.

'Well?' asked the elf

'All done,' he said. 'Let's go and see Galadriel.'

The elf snorted disparagingly.

'Very well.'

His guide led him to the foot of a ladder which led into the heights of a huge Mallorn tree.

'Up here,' he said.

Ylfronir took hold of the rungs.

'Hang on!' said the other elf, producing a horn from his pocket. He blew it once. Ylfronir rested his head against the cool rungs of the ladder and closed his eyes. Three more blasts of the horn came from above, and he felt the other elf shake his shoulder

'You may go up now.'

'Thanks.'

Stepping off the ladder, Ylfronir fought to breathe steadily. His wrist was throbbing with a pain he would not have thought possible. He was standing on a big wooden platform, the great house where Galadriel and Celeborn dwelled over to his left. He was just preparing to march over, head held high, when a female voice spoke.

'Celidel can be a little…over zealous…'

Ylfronir turned, and saw a white clad elfwoman standing on the opposite side of the platform.

'My la…uh, Galadriel?' he asked, determined not to conform to class expectations,

'Yes.'

'What, uh…'

'According to Celidel you desecrated the Nimrodel…'

'Desecrated!'

'He is…a little prone to exaggeration…What is your version of events?'

'I threw an orc sword into the river,' he said simply.

'I think I might need a little more explanation than that…'

'Read my mind…' muttered Ylfronir, sourly

'I shall ignore that,' she said, 'for now.'

She walked around the platform to stand by his side.

'I know you brought Nathradril back with you.'

'Is she…'

'She has been poisoned. Orc poison.'

'Will she…?'

'Our best healers are with her... I need to know what happened.'

'We were…in Moria…'

He saw her tense

'What? What could possibly have possessed her? She was here when…'

'When Legolas and Aragorn were here, yes. She said.'

'And she still…'

'She was looking for Mithrandir…'

'Oh the poor deluded child!'

'She's not a child.'

'But what were you doing? You assisted her in this folly?'

'I had…other reasons…'

Galadriel stared at him

'You are from Mirkwood, are you not? Like Nathradril?'

'Yes…' he said guardedly 'like Nathradril.'

'What brings you here?'

'I, um, left…after a sort of…an error of judgement on my part…'

'Would you care to elaborate?'

'Not particularly.'

Galadriel looked him up and down

'I take it you were…detained…?'

'Imprisoned, yes. By the Orc Collective of Moria. Did you know that…'

'…orc affairs do not concern me.'

'Well they should! Being on your doorstep and all…'

'They do not concern me at the present time. I am more interested in you. You and your little…organisation.'

She spoke the last word under her breath, staring pointedly at Ylfronir's badge.

'You…know?'

'M…E…N…D…Mirkwood… Elves…and so on' she said, tracing the letters with a finger. She let her arm drop to her side and smiled at him questioningly

'You read my mind?' he asked.

She turned away from him, to look out across the forest

'Well, it's no secret in Mirkwood…' he said

'Are you ashamed, Ylfronir?'

'What? No! I am as committed to the cause of democracy for elves as I was when I joined the society!'

There was a pause. Despite the truth of what he had said, Ylfronir found himself feeling a little uneasy. At last she spoke again:

'And you are here to…undermine my authority?'

Ylfronir couldn't see her face, but from her tone he was getting the impression that she was laughing at him.

'I came here for help.'

She turned back, her face completely composed

'And that is what you shall receive,' she said.

'Can I see Nathradril now?'

'If you think you can climb back down the ladder with that wrist.'

'How did you…? Never mind. I'll be going then…' he turned towards the ladder.

'Though if you ever wanted to draw a bow again you might be advised to stay here for a little while longer… That is if you can bear to accept the hospitality of a royal house.'

'I…'

'Go into the house, climb the main staircase, take the corridor to your left. The first chamber off that corridor is yours to rest in. You can see your friend in an hour or so.'

She began to walk away

'Don't think this makes it all…right…' Ylfronir called after her

'I am very familiar with what's right, thank you.'

'I still…'

'I know.'

……………..

Druluk woke up feeling warm and comfortable for the first time in…as long as he could remember. He stretched luxuriously under the fur blankets on his straw mattress…and remembered everything that had happened over the last few days. He groaned, and tried to suppress the thought, but it was no good. There was no more comfort to be had in bed. Sitting up he cracked his head against the stone roof of the alcove in the cave wall where he had been sleeping,

'Damn!'

This was not looking like a good day.

The day before had been occupied with council meetings. He had been questioned endlessly about Saruman and Sauron. Thankfully they had been more interested in his time under Saruman's command than the circumstances of his escape, and he managed not to mention Jorrig and the others at all. Then he had been taken to this small chamber where he was to sleep. As far as he could tell he wasn't under any sort of guard, but he wasn't relishing this semi freedom. He still had no idea what his oath to the collective was going to mean. But more importantly he still didn't know whether Ylfronir and Nathradril had escaped, or were lying dead or dying in some forsaken tunnel of this dark realm.

Swinging his legs off the bunk he felt an icy chill shiver up his legs when the soles of his bare feet hit the floor. He looked round for his shoes, but the pair of metal reinforced black leather boots sitting in the corner were not those that he had been issued at Isengard. His normal armour seemed to be missing too, and instead a newly polished breastplate with a C moulded into it was leaning against the wall, beneath a chain mail shirt that was hanging from a peg.

He had just finished dressing, reluctantly, when he heard footsteps in the passageway outside. He went to the door and drew back the curtain.

'Hey!' he called after the orc who had just passed

She turned round

'Um, do you know what happened to my boots…'

She stared at him,

'Right, sorry, I guess it's not that important…'

She turned away

'Uh…just one other thing…'

'Yes?'

'Do you know what I'm supposed to be doing…?'

'No.'

'Is Thrrl around…?'

Even from behind he could tell something was wrong, and her expression when she turned round confirmed it

'What's happened?' he asked

'I don't know if…'

'You can tell me, I'm…um…I'm an adviser to the council…'

She looked sceptical, but then sighed

'OK…Look, um, there's been…an accident.'

'An accident?'

'A rock fall... It happens from time to time.'

'A rock fall…' repeated Druluk

'She must have died instantly…'

'Instantly…I…uh…when?'

'Last night.'

'What's going to happen?'

'Regarding?'

'The council!'

'I don't know! And I need to get to work!'

'Oh…right…um…sorry to have kept you…' he mumbled, turning back into his room, his mind in turmoil. Thrrl dead? What was going to happen now?

………………………….

It was noon on the day after they came to Lothlorien when Nathradril regained consciousness. The elf healers had worked all the way through the previous night. Ylfronir had intended to go down to the sanatorium as soon as he'd bandaged up his wrist, but he had accidentally fallen asleep, and he in fact arrived just as she woke. Now he was standing awkwardly at her bedside.

'How are you…?'

'Just really…tired,' she said, wincing slightly as she struggled to sit up. One of the attendant elf healers stepped forward as if to stop her, but she glared at him and he seemed to think better of it.

'I've, um, spoken to the lady Galadriel…' Ylfronir began

'Oh, you've spoken to the lady Galadriel…' said Nathradril, testily, 'Is that how it's going to be from now on, Ylfronir?'

The other elves present shared a curious glance,

'Could we have some privacy?' asked Nathradril, employing the glare again. The healers looked reluctant, but conceded

'5 minutes.'

When they had left the room, Nathradril beckoned Ylfronir to come closer,

'Abandoning the class struggle already?' she whispered

'No!' he exclaimed, 'it was a slip of the tongue…'

'…calm down! You always take everything so seriously Ylfronir…'

'…Nathradril, she knows. Galadriel! She knows about MEND!'

'Ylfronir, Ylfronir, you always think the worst…I worked here for months, remember, she never suspected a thing…'

'She read my mind!'

Nathradril laughed derisively, but it turned into a coughing fit. Ylfronir hovered uncertainly,

'Get me the…water…idiot…'

He fetched the jug from the bedside table and poured her a glass, which she gulped down. Then she fell back on the pillows, exhausted.

'She did read my mind,' muttered Ylfronir

'Come on,' said Nathradril, 'We haven't exactly kept a low profile back in Mirkwood, she could have heard from there. It's no secret. And we do wear badges, for crying out loud…' A sudden thought seemed to strike her, 'anyway,' she said, 'who said it first?'

'What?'

'You know…The D word.'

'Well, um…'

'It was you, wasn't it?'

'It may have been…'

'Ylfronir!'

'Look, I tell you, she knew already…'

'Maybe. Maybe not. But I can tell you that she definitely did not read your mind…'

'…OK! OK! Have it your way. We do have other things to talk about…'

'Yes…'

'I still can't believe that Druluk…'

'…betrayed us?'

'Nathradril!'

'Well, sorry, but last I heard he was swearing to serve the orcs who did this to me…'

'Nathradril, he wouldn't do that unless he really thought it was right…'

'Right for him!'

'I'm sure there's things we don't understand…'

'…Ylfronir. Face it. He betrayed us. More specifically he betrayed you. And he's an orc! If you had met him in Mirkwood you would have killed him on sight!'

'A lot of things which go on in Mirkwood are wrong…'

'…fair point, but if you didn't , then that orc in Mirkwood would kill you so…'

'And that's the way things should be, eh?'

Ylfronir strode over to the window and looked out moodily at the sunlit treetrunks.

When he turned back, Nathradril's eyes were closed. He suddenly felt overcome with sorrow at all that had happened.

'Nathradril?' he said softly. She opened her eyes

'I was just…'

'…resting your eyes,' he smiled. 'Look, we don't have to talk about this now,'

'But time is running out!'

'Time?'

'Ylfronir, the ships are leaving…I hadn't really thought about it before, but…'

'Ships?'

'Sailing to the West? Come on, Ylfronir, you weren't in exile that long, you must have heard…'

'Well, I…'

'I didn't think I wanted to go just yet…but now…'

'You would abandon everything?'

'Abandon what? The campaign is in complete disarray. And in the undying lands we could start again!'

'I thought you were dead set on seizing a ring of power…'

'…I'm trying to be realistic, Ylfronir.'

'But the war…'

'You want to fight now? Against your little orc friends?'

'I don't know!' he shouted, slamming his injured arm against the wall. The pain brought tears pricking to his eyes. He came and sat down on the edge of her bed, 'But leaving…seems so much like bailing out…' he said.

The door to the chamber opened

'I think that's enough talking,' said an elf healer, with a disapproving stare at Ylfronir. He stood up.

'Do you call that…five minutes?' asked Nathradril defiantly, but the way her gasping breathing punctuated her speech put Ylfronir in no mood to argue for longer.

'I'll come back later', he promised.

As he left the room, the healer followed him

'How is she?' Ylfronir asked him quietly. The other elf looked troubled

'In all honesty…I don't know. We have used what skill we have to try and cleanse the poison from her body, but…'

'But?'

'She is not well.'

'She's weak, yes, but surely she'll regain her strength with time…'

'Perhaps.'

'Perhaps?'

'Nothing is certain in these dark days…'

'Oh spare me the platitudes!' Ylfronir exclaimed. The other elf looked affronted, and Ylfronir tried to stay calm. 'Sorry,' he said, 'please tell me what you think…'

'Only that orc poisoning is…unpredictable.'

'Unpredictable?'

'She could recover and yet be struck down by its effects once more at any time in the future.'

'Struck down? You mean…she would collapse, like yesterday…?'

'Yes. Or, unlike yesterday, it could be fatal.'

'Fatal,' repeated Ylfronir, uselessly, 'fatal…' He was suddenly acutely aware of his own breathing, in and out, and the very atmosphere of the room seemed to be at a higher pressure,

'Can't you do something?' he asked, hearing his own voice as if another person was speaking,

'We have done everything we can.'

'When?'

'When…?'

'When will she…'

'Nothing is certain.'

'Nothing is certain,' repeated Ylfronir, feeling sick.

The elf healer took his arm.

'Come. You too need to rest.'

…………………..

Druluk tramped along the passageway, the unfamiliar boots blistering his heels. He had been roaming the tunnels of the Collective stronghold for hours, in a stupor of fear, confusion and regret. No one had come to his chamber to tell him what he was supposed to be doing, so he had set out to search for Ylfronir and Nathradril. He didn't dwell too much on the thought of whether he would find them dead or alive.

Often he would meet orcwomen, either walking along the passages themselves or else standing on guard, but he strode past purposefully and barely drew a glance. It seemed as though the ordinary workers of the Collective paid little attention to what was actually going on around them – they carried out whatever duties they had been allocated, and that was all. Sometimes he caught a glimpse, through an open archway or a ventilation shaft, of an armoury or a workshop, and as he watched the industrious figures at work he tried to imagine all 50 thousand. But all he could see in his mind's eye was the 50 thousand of them lined up on a battlefield. For now that Thrrl was dead that was surely inevitable.

As he had been contemplating this, his pace had slowed without him noticing, and then some unconscious impulse made him stop altogether. He looked around. He realised that he had absolutely no idea where he was, or how he was going to get back to the room where he slept. But that wasn't what had brought him to a halt. A faint scraping noise was coming from somewhere nearby. He looked around. The tunnel was bare. The noise came again. It seemed very close…almost…yes…it was coming from beneath his feet. Druluk looked down. He was standing on a round wooden trapdoor.

Slowly, deliberately, he took a step backwards, and looked around once more, listening hard. But it did not seem as though anyone was nearby. He lowered himself onto his knees and ran his hands over the wooden circle, feeling for a fingerhold. The edges did not fit exactly into the recess in the floor, there was space to squeeze his fingers in between. He wriggled them into the gap, gripped, and tugged. It was easier to move than he had anticipated, and he dragged the wooden cover to one side. Then he looked back at the gaping hole in the floor.

'Is…anyone…there?' he asked hesitantly, speaking as loud as he dared. The scraping noise came again, but at a higher, more urgent frequency.

'Ylfronir?' he asked, hardly daring to breathe. There was no change in the sound he heard. He edged closer to the hole, still on his knees, and peered inside. He could see nothing in the blackness, but the sound was definitely coming from down there.

Standing, Druluk went over to the bracket on a nearby wall which held a torch. He removed it, and holding its wooden handle he went once again to the pit. This time he lay full length on his stomach, and stuck his torch bearing arm right down inside, hanging his head over the edge.

'What the…'

The upside down scene which met his eyes was the last thing he had expected. An orc was lying on the floor of the cave below, tightly bound with ropes, and with a cloth tied around her head that both gagged her and obscured her face. He drew back uncertainly. Was this another prison? But something about the way that the bound orc was grinding the metal toecap of her boot against the wall of the cave, producing the scraping sound he had heard, made him think again.

'Thrrl?' he called uncertainly, 'is that you?'

She stopped scratching the wall

'Thrrl?'

She gave a definite nod.

'I, um…I'm coming down…'

He scanned the walls of the cave for how best exactly to do this. He saw that there was a metal ladder lying uselessly on the cave floor, which was maybe 6 feet below, though it was difficult to judge in the flickering torchlight. Not all that far to drop. If he could just manoeuvre himself into the right position…He started to scramble onto his hands and knees, but as he drew the torch back out of the opening it slipped from his hand and fell into the cave

'Shit!'

He saw it hit the ground and roll, thankfully not in Thrrl's direction. He was just breathing a sigh of relief when the torch suddenly flared and more flames leapt up. He realised that there were piles of straw in the corners of the cave. There was no longer any time to hesitate. Legs first he let himself down through the hole, arm muscles complaining bitterly as they took his weight. He dropped to the floor, felt the fire's heat on the back of his neck, and rushed to Thrrl's side. He tore off the gag

'What the hell?'

'I'm rescuing you…' he muttered, tugging desperately at the knots in the ropes

'This place is on fire!'

'I had noticed…'

'Glonya?'

'What?'

'Did she start the fire?'

'Uh…not exactly…' Druluk's hands were slippery with sweat and the knots seemed to be getting no looser,

'Hurry up!'

'I'm trying!'

By some miracle he managed to loosen the ties which bound her hands. He dragged off the loops of rope then stood up

'That'll have to do…'

'What about…'

'No time!' He pulled her upright. She balanced unsteadily, her legs still tied together.

'Did you start the fire?'

Druluk didn't answer. He grabbed the ladder, which already felt hot beneath his hands, and set it against the trapdoor.

'Come on!' He took her arm and helped her hobble to its base

'How am I supposed to…?'

'Just go!'

She grabbed the rungs and started to pull herself up the ladder, Druluk shoving her from below. At last she managed to fling her arms out onto the floor of the passageway above and wriggle to safety. The metal of the ladder was almost burning Druluk's hands as he followed close behind.

They rested against the passage wall for a moment, Druluk overwhelmed by relief. Then his mind caught up

'I thought you were dead?'

'We very nearly were….'

'No, this morning…someone told me you had died in a rockfall.'

'Huh, I'd have thought Glonya would have come up with something more inventive…' Thrrl started to prise the other knots apart.

'Glonya?'

'Yes…look, are you going to help me?'

'I'm not good at knots…'

'I know! But we haven't got time…'

Druluk started working on the rope around her ankles

'Why did Glonya do this?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

'Um…'

'She wanted to make a point. Silence me and in doing so frighten the rest of the council into doing what she wants…'

'Right…' Druluk sounded doubtful, 'but….um….why not actually kill you then?'

'Perhaps she has some vestiges of a conscience.'

'Perhaps…' said Druluk, still unsure, 'um, how did she manage to imprison you anyway?'

'I...I came here because I received a message that the elves had been sighted down this corridor….'

'…Ylfronir! Was he…?'

'….it was a trick. They weren't here, but Glonya was waiting for me…'

'…right,' said Druluk slowly, trying to gather his thoughts

'What's the matter with you?' said Thrrl, accusingly, prising one knot apart and starting on the next, 'don't you believe me?'

'I don't know…Is this some sort of test?'

She let the rope go and sighed heavily, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. When she spoke again, it was with careful restraint

'Druluk, not everything is about you.'

'I wasn't…'

'This is really, really important…'

'I know…'

'So shut up and help me get to the council meeting.'

'OK…'