[Eönwë]

For a while Dan lay there on his front, coughing and spluttering, a soggy, muddy mess. The man beside him, bent over, panting. Dan was much heavier than he looked. It was all that muscle, or so Dan would say to himself.

Then, after some failed attempts, with a squelch, he managed to support himself enough to sit up.

“Next time, be more careful,” said the man who was sitting next to him. It was not the sort of voice that Dan would have expected for a man that looked so hard and toughened. It was the voice of a young, tender man who had suffered greatly. Nonetheless, for reasons unknown to himself, one of the famous Drúadan grins, the sort that didn't seem to fit, cracked through Dan's face, and the mud covering it parted. It might have been all the recent events, and their sheer preposterity, or something in the way the unfamiliar man spoke to him, but a laugh started deep in his stomach burst forth out of his mouth. It was rich and rolling, like the plains of Rohan, like freshly tilled earth in early spring, like an early sunrise. And before long, the other man was laughing too, strangely in unison with him. After a slightly longer delay, he suddenly heard a muffled chuckle, which turned into laugh, from not nearby. It started off thin and biting, but endied up loud and full of merriment. Probably the first proper laugh that person ahd had in ages. He could tell that someone had not wanted to be seen or heard, but no-one couldd resist the power of a Drûg's laugh. So he was being watched, was he? Were his saviour and whoever it was who had laughed working together? Or were they not aware of each other? Or was one trying to avoid the other? Only time would tell. But at least now he felt better. Laughing always did that to you.

Then, apparently having not heard the other laugh, the man broke into conversation. “So what do they call you?” he asked.

Dan, caught off guard answered his natural response of “Dagan-Turi-Dan, but Dan is probably easier.” And after his mind suddenly being brought back into the present, he added, “And thanks, I owe you my life.” He wondered, should he have told this man his real name? He was in hiding, in the bog. Surely there must have been a reason for this.

At that, the man looked upwards philosophically into the sky. At length, the he replied “I’m glad that I was able to do that for you, Dan.”

Dan looked towards the bog, remembering that just minutes before he was thinking that he would be stuck there forever, and not even his bones would be recovered. Now he was sitting in the sunlight, peacefully, talking to the man that had just saved his life. The sun shone brightly on his face, drying the mud and water that was on his body. He thought he heard birds singing, but would there be birds in a place, or was his mind just playing tricks on him?

Before Dan could say something, the man continued slowly. “Would you be willing to do something in return?” Dan had expected something like this. It was always the way. No act was done purely out of kindness, at least not many were. But the man had seemed slightly hesitant, slightly ashamed to ask the question, so maybe had saved Dan as an act within itself, not caluating the consequences or benefits. Anyway, Dan was indebted to the man. But he had a sneaky suspicion of what it would be. He looked at the man with his dark eyes. I would like to keep my presence here unknown, at least until . . . until I decide the time is right. I don’t know if you have come here with these settlers, but if so, I would ask that you say nothing of me.” He had known it. It was best to tread carefully in these matters.

"I will answer you question if you first tell me your name," said Dan. This seemed reasonable. After all, the man had known his name for the last few minutes, and Dan was feeling left out. At least now he would know the name of who he was addressing.

The man looked thoughtful, and Dan guessed he was wondering whether he ought to tell his real name or make up one. "Oeric," the man said. Judging by the uniqueness of such a name, Dan guessed that it was probably his real name. Or else he may just be very sharp, said Dan to himself.

Then Dan answered the man's question. "As a Drûg of Drúwaith Iaur," he started, then taking a deep breath continued "I must be steadfast with my companions and masters. I must not decieve them or put them in any danger. Those are the rules of my kin, my race, and to forgo these would be to lose my name as a Drûg warrior, and my honour. Therefore I cannot allow the Eorl to be in any danger. But since you do not seem dangerous to me (after all, you saved my life), then I will give you the benfit of a doubt and not tell him of your existence. You saved my life, and a debt like that is hard to repay. I will do what I can, even if it endangers me."

So, he had agreed agreed. But one thing was still worrying him, "But I want you to tell me, how am I going to be able to prove this when you have already been sighted by a member of the camp. Lord Eodwine will suspect me of trickery."