[Formendacil]

Hyarmenwë had returned to his room in an ill mood. The "icebreaker" had been pointless, the negotiations had not even started, and now they were cut off pre-emptively. He was also ever so slightly afraid that Mardil would abandon the diplomats to the tender mercies of Mordor, if the negotiations were not reopened. And such a life held nothing but horror for him.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he intoned, straigtening in his seat. The Lady Angawen entered. He hailed her politely.

She addressed him in Quenya. He replied in Westron. There was a brief discussion about the appropriateness of the High Tongue. He ended agreeing that it was appropriate. Then they got down to the real reason Angawen was there.

"Why, Hyarmanwë, do you believe you were sent on this assignment?"

"I am a great statesman and most loyal to the Kingdom," he answered without a second thought- or so it appeared to Angawen. It was not entirely true. There was still the nagging fear that he had been sent to Mordor to get him out from under Mardil's feet. His loyalties to the old King were well known indeed.

Angawen asked him what he thought about the inclusion of herself, Bearugard, and Malfoidacil in the party.

"I do not claim to understand the mind of our - Lord - Mardil," he had replied politely enough. In truth, though, if Mardil had sent him to Mordor in hopes of being rid of him, then the same held true for Angawen. She could also be a dangerous opponent. As for Bearugard, he was a useless twit, and Hyarmenwë couldn't blame Mardil if it was the case that he wanted to be rid of him. And then there was Malfoidacil. Hyarmenwë didn't trust him. He seemed, at first, to be merely a spoiled, arrogant child, not unlike Bearugard. But since arriving in Mordor, another facet of Malfoidacil had started showing through. Hyarmenwë was sure that he didn't like it.

It appeared that Angawen had the same feelings. Though Hyarmenwë did his best to present a balanced, and possibly sympathetic view of Malfoidacil, for the sake of argument, he was admittedly in agreement with her. One argument in particular struck him:

"He knows Lady Alli. They are old friends from this land - this land whence he came. I shall be blunt, Hyarmanwë. I do not trust him."

While still attempting to maintain a balanced disposition, the thought occured to him: Malfoidacil holds dual citizenship. To which realm does his loyalty truly lie? It was a forboding thought.

And so conversation turned to Bearugard. Angawen trusted his abilities not at all. Hyarmenwë wasn't so sure that he did, either, but he did think there was a bit more depth to the man than appeared on first sight. Surely, with a father such as his, there must be a man of great power somewhere inside him. On the face of it, though, Hyarmenwë doubted it.

What a life it was, he pondered, surrounded here in a dangerous land by people on whom he ought to be able to depend, yet not one of the three could he rely on. Not Malfoidacil, not Bearugard, and not Angawen. Even as he pondered though, Angawen proposed an alliance. He agreed -on one condition- that Bearugard be included.

Angawen was not pleased with this, but she accepted it. It appeared that her main concern was with Malfoidacil. And Hyarmenwë agreed. Indeed, that was why he proposed Bearugard's inclusion. Until such time as any of them were found wanting, the three Gondorians who were at a loss in Mordor should stick together. Bearugard, though an insipid fool, was their natural ally, and ought to be cultivated, lest they lose him altogether. And allies in Mordor would be few and far between.

"Lord, I accept."

The deal made, Hyarmenwë and Angawen departed his room to seek out their-partner to be. He was not hard to find. He was in his room, and appeared to have an inkling of what they were up to. Whatever the case, there he stood, and he was as self-centred an idiot as ever.

"Well, since we are all Gondorians here, I guess I need to get this off my chest, as I'm sure I'm not the only one. Today's activities were exceedingly strange, you know what I speak of. There's no doubt in my mind it was a ploy to try to get information out of us. Whilst the Mordorians threw around their musings and lies, we were forced into an uncomfortable situation in hopes that one of us would break. I need not say that I did not fall to such obvious tricks. My outburst was to not get anyone to spill the beans, or give any useful information, to these Mordorians. Now it seems like she will take us individually to try to break us. But we must hold together, after all - in this place - I am all you have and you are all I have."

"I think you and the Lady Angawen alike have taken a touch too much offence to the proceedings thus far," Hyarmenwë said, raising a hand and taking a seat at the table. When Angawen sat also, the two chairs belonging to it were taken, and only a rather bare-looking footstool remained. Bearugard sniffed at it disdainfully, and refused it. Hyarmenwë ignored him and continued.

"Certainly, they were highly irregular, and without a point other than to set us ill at ease, but to respond to them in the manner in which you did was rather foolish. To let them know that they were getting to you was inadvisable. It signalled to them that they hold the upper hand, and it suggests that we are easily upset- and so easily manipulated. A diplomat must never appear manipulable." Hyarmenwë was looking not so much at Bearugard as at Angawen.

"All right," she admitted. "Letting loose a volley of fury wasn't the best way to act, but it did clarify one thing immediately: we are not dealing with easily manipulable amateurs either, as might have been suspected seeing how we ARE in Mordor, after all. But it should also be quite clear, to both of you, that I have my limits on how far I can be pushed and nobody, including Mardil himself, can push me over them without a fight."

"Quite," said Bearugard sniffily. "One has one's limits."

"One has to bend with the wind, at times," said Hyarmenwë with a half-frown. "And on that note, one has to wonder what will happen if the negotiations do remain stalled. How many of us would Mardil truly mourn to lose in Mordor? If it cost him concessions to Roggie, would he attempt to extradite us?"

"My dear Hyarmenwë," said Bearugard haughtily. "In my case, he could simply not afford not to."

"I think you underestimate Mardil," said Angawen. "He would not willingly waste talent such as ours-" something in the way Angawen said it suggested that she meant just herself and Hyarmenwë- "but you have a point. But there's nothing we can do about it until we know one way or another if the negotiations are still on. The big issue right now is Malfoidacil. The boy is a dual citizen. What is to stop him from siding with the Mordorians in the negotiations? And I've seen no indications that he feels any particular loyalty to any of us- or to Mardil. That boy looks out for himself."

"He has a certain appreciation for noble blood," noted Bearugard. "A commendable taste, if you ask me."

"His appreciation for noble blood won't get him to help us, not if it's not in Malfoidacil's best interests," pressed on Angawen. "What we need is some leverage- something that we can use to control him. I don't suppose you have any ideas?"

"The Malfoidacils have played both sides of every political game in Gondor for their own advantage for years," said Hyarmenwë. "If we could dig up some dirt on him here in Mordor, it might be possible, but there's nothing from Gondor that will easily control him. And I don't forsee us being able to to do much digging, confined to the palace and endangered by the anakronisms as we are."

"He's very well connected too," said Bearugard. "Related to many of the best families in Gondor. I believe he's a distant cousin on my mother's father's side of the family."

"There must be something!" Angawen pressed on. "If we can't rely on him in council, then we've no way of knowing if we can hope to accomplish Lord Mardil's aims. And, as Hyarmenwë has already said, we need to present a strong front. Holding the negotiations in Mordor might have been all very well from Mardil's point of view, but it puts us at a disadvantage."

"I wonder..." Hyarmenwë mused. "What tales of his son, if spread abroad in the right circles in Minas Tirith, would scandalize Lord Luciamir the most?"