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Dwaline sat opposite John and took a sip of his ale. It was good ale, and Dwaline loved it, but he little noticed it with everything that was on his mind.
"I'm sorry about that." said John seemingly awakening from a dream, "Sometimes I tend to drift off without even realizing it. 'Tis a bad habit that I have yet to break."
"Think nothing of it," replied Dwaline, "now, there is much I must tell you, so that you fully understand." John nodded, and then noticed that Dwaline had once again taken out his pipe. "You see," Dwaline began after taking a puff of pipe weed, "after a previous miss-adventure, I came to the wood king's halls and there found Fillil in a dungeon. How he got there, he would not say, but the Elves told me that they found him thieving treasures from the King's hall. This did not surprise me.
"Long I questioned him, but got very little but blubbers and spluttering. From what I managed to piece together, I believe that he was let out into the gardens of the Lonely Mountain for good behaviour. There he escaped, killing three Dwarves and evading many arrows, save one, which hit him in the right arm. He was bandaged there and often wept over it. That I thought was that, he could stay there for all I cared. He'd done murder and had never changed. However as I left him I thought I heard him saying,
'Thou fool, Dwaline, son of Balan, these walls shall not keep me. Verily I know one who will bring me to you and I shall find you! Yes, I shall find thee.' he laughed insanely as I plodded along. But his words lingered in my mind. I asked the Wood king to beware with him, for he was cunning and murderous." Dwaline took another gulp of Ale, before continuing.
"I knew of his escape from there some months ago," he said on, "Apparently he had dug a tunnel through his cell, coming into a river. He flooded the cellars, foolish creature, he fled though the forest. Going into Mirkwood, even now after the Necromancer has left and it is called Greenwood once again, still dangers lurk. He was considered dead the moment he left the path." Dwaline paused and took a deep breath, "Evidently not. I found that he had been a listener of Tales from a few elves, to see if he could find any way of escape. He must have heard of Cree from her friends who lived there. I knew them; they loved to tell tales, which is how he will have known the tale of Fáinu.
"Oh little they meant in there tales, but ill has come of it. He has many of his kindred in the Blue Mountains; he will have perverted them to his cause by now. If it was not he tat was with Fáinu and Cree, then it was one of them."
Dwaline looked out of the window and saw that Avalon was fluttering around, probably looking for mice. Dwaline turned back to John and sighed with a shake of his head.
"There," he said, "Now you know the tale, will you not tell me a little of yours?"
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