A few days after their return to Minas Tirith Timothy was enjoying a quiet evening in the royal library when he was suddenly startled by Thorongil's voice.

"Is it any good?"

Timothy nearly spilled his drink, which he had no business bringing into the library to begin with, all over a priceless relic of the second age.

"Of course!" he exclaimed in frustration before returning his voice to an acceptably quiet whisper, "of course it is good! It was written by Erestor of Rivendell. Do you have a reason for being here?"

Thorongil looked most amused by the question. "I thought I would spend my free time haunting the library instead of with my wife."

Timothy rolled his eyes and turned back to his book.

"Elerína claims you are clever," continued the maia shaking his head. "I've been looking for you, Timothy."

"Why?" asked the scholar cautiously. Everything Thorongil did had a tendency to involve more danger than he was comfortable with.

Thorongil took a seat across from Timothy. "Does the name Ingacarca mean anything to you?"

"No?" replied Timothy, irrationally disappointed that there was something Thorongil knew which he did not.

"Don't feel too bad, it didn't mean anything to Elerína either," replied Thorongil. "Orcish history is a rather uncommon field of study, though it is remarkably exciting. He was one of the first orcs Morgoth created, and legend has it he gladly accepted the changes made to him."

Timothy had absolutely no clue where Thorongil was going with this, so he just nodded.

"I have reason to think he is alive, and possibly behind some of Gondor's troubles," continued the maia. "I want you to help me find him."

Timothy turned pale as the snow on Mount Mindolluin. "Me? What could I possibly do to help?"

Thorongil grinned. "I need someone to do a little research for me. I may not be here to haunt the library, but a haunted library is involved. I want you to go to Minas Ithil and search the records stored there for mention of Ingacarca."

"Records from ... before the war?"

Thorongil grinned and nodded. "Records which the King's own scholars sealed away. Only Lord Aragorn has dared enter the Lord of the Nazgûl's record chambers. Tomes innumerable on the ruin of men and elves..."

"This sounds like a terrible idea!" squeaked Timothy.

Thorongil laughed. "Calm down, kid. They are just books - probably - and you are not going alone."

Timothy tried to take a deep breath. "You're coming too?"

Thorongil shook his head. "No, I am going into Mordor. I am sending Gwethien with you, and hopefully that sorceress Mirumor, if I can convince her to go."

"Gwethien and Mirumor!" objected Timothy, now wishing he was going alone. "You want me to go into the Witch-King's inner sanctum with a Sauron worshipper and a ... whatever she is?"

"What do you think she is?" asked Thorongil curiously.

Timothy felt he should choose his words very carefully. "A maia, like you?"

"Go on," nodded Thorongil.

"I wouldn't know..." stammered Timothy.

"I think you do," insisted Thorongil. "Tell me, what is Gwethien?"

"A vampire?" whispered Timothy.

"Correct," replied Thorongil.

"Why is there a vampire in Minas Tirith?" whispered Timothy, figuring if he knew this much he might as well ask the obvious questions.

"That's not your concern," laughed Thorongil. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say..."

"That saying is often attributed to you!" laughed Timothy.

"It should be attributed to Melkor," replied Thorongil. "It is good advice, though I would reply that I preferred my enemies dead."

Timothy was at first shocked to hear Morgoth's original name, and even more surprised when he realized he and his friends had been deceived.

"You lied to us! The bites on the bodies on the road to Isengard, that was you - I mean her!"

"Indeed," nodded Thorongil. "You five were not hard to convince."

"Well I never expected Manwë's Herald to be a liar," replied Timothy, trying to defend himself and his friends.

"Excuse me?" whispered Thorongil.

"Sorry!" gasped Timothy. "I mean, I didn't expect you to be so good at it. You know what I mean, right?"

Thorongil laughed. "I can't believe you are my best choice for this mission."

"That makes two of us!" agreed Timothy.

"So will you do it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Thorongil stood to leave. "You do."

"If the battle for Gondor is to be fought in a library," declared Timothy, "I shall be there to fight it!"

Late that evening Thorongil paid Gwethien a visit. She was in a back alley on the fourth level with Mirumor.

"This can't be a good sign," chuckled Thorongil as a he walked up to them. "A vampire and priestess of darkness in a dark alley... planning a murder?"

"Nothing of the sort!" objected the vampire. We were..."

"Don't tell me!" interrupted Thorongil. "I would prefer plausible deniability."

"Who are you?" asked Mirumor.

"This is Thorongil," explained Gwethien. "He is not to be trifled with."

Mirumor was not impressed. Without his armor Thorongil did not look particularly intimidating. "What exactly can he do, and why should I be concerned?"

Gwethien held her head in her hands.

"What I can do is irrelevant," replied Thorongil softly. "A word to Gwethien and she'll snap your neck before you can draw your dagger, useless though it would be."

Before Thorongil had even finished speaking, Gwethien put her hand threateningly on Mirumor's shoulder at the base of her neck. Her grip was cold as ice.

"Any more stupid questions?" she asked, showing her fangs. Mirumor emphatically shook her head.

"Now that we have established that," said Gwethien in an exaggeratedly cheerful tone, "to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I have a task for you," answered Thorongil, "both of you. I need you to visit Minas Ithil and search the Nazgûl's library for any mention of Ingacarca."

"The first orc?" interrupted Mirumor.

"Finally!" smiled Thorongil, "someone who recognizes that name!"

"When do we leave?" asked Mirumor excitedly, imagining the Nazgûl's secrets locked away in Minas Morgul, untouched by the cowardly men of Gondor.

"I'm not sure; I need to obtain the King's permission for you to be allowed into the depths of that tower," replied Thorongil, "and you will be taking Timothy along with you."

"The boy who helped rescue me from the tower?" asked Mirumor.

Thorongil nodded. "He's well versed in lore and languages, and everyone in the Citadel will feel better with someone they trust on the mission. If anything happens to him, I will be in a lot of trouble..."

"I'll take good care of him!" Gwethien assured Thorongil. "He'll be safe with us."

"I'm sure he feels safer already," laughed Thorongil sarcastically. "He knows what you are."

"Then he should feel very safe!" objected Gwethien.

The sun had long since set when Thorongil returned to the Citadel and joined his wife for a late dinner in the King's own dining room.

"I assume they all agreed to go?" asked Elerína.

Thorongil nodded. "Timothy eventually worked up the courage. Mirumor was surprisingly eager."

"Are you sure she should be going?"

"She actually understands what she is looking for," noted Thorongil. "She knew the name Ingacarca immediately."

"Well of course she did, she'd probably like to take his side."

"Gwethien would kill her before she could, and Mirumor knows it."

Elerína shuddered. "Do you not hear how horrible that sounds?"

"Gwethien won't betray us."

"I'm not talking about whether you can control them, I am talking about whether you should."

Thorongil's expression grew very grave. "As I see it there are three options. First, we could kill them - starting with Sauron. You spared him, and insist he will be useful, so that isn't viable. We can't kill Thuringwethil, and certainly not Mirumor, without killing Sauron - their crimes are nothing compared to his."

Elerína nodded, so Thorongil continued.

"We could let them do as they please, so long as they don't harm anyone, but then if we die we leave the Free Peoples of Middle Earth with a collection of Morgoth's former servants and no one to stop them..."

Elerína sighed.

"That leaves the third option, forcing them to help us and making sure they can't outlive you," said Thorongil.

"But they are only helping us out of fear," objected Elerína.

"Gwethien spent her entire life serving Morgoth in fear of his power, and commanding others who feared her's," Thorongil replied. "It's all she knows. We can only hope she will appreciate fighting for something bigger than herself."

"I don't have an answer, Thorongil, I just can't stand how scared she looks around us."

"I think she is coming to trust me," Thorongil answered.

"Maybe because you feed her!" snapped Elerína.

"So that is what this is about!" exclaimed Thorongil.

"You let her slaughter those bandits, even the one that surrendered!"

"Under the laws of Gondor and Rohan he would have been executed. He attacked us unprovoked, and he had seen Gwethien's power first hand. Better to kill him there, especially given that Gwethien can not heal without feeding."

Elerína was not content with that answer. "And when your new favorite weapon needs blood and there is no one you think deserves it conveniently at hand? What then, set her loose on the first level and tell her not to get caught?"

For a moment Thorongil's eyes flashed with genuine anger - something his wife had not seen since they had debated aiding the Noldor seven thousand years prior. "I have already faced that problem..."

Thorongil held out his left hand and pulled back his sleeve. His wrist showed a number of bite marks. "That's something else I hope she comes to appreciate: sacrifice."

Elerína gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't know! You should have told me!"

"Gwethien made me promise not to," said Thorongil. "She's even more afraid of you than of me."

Elerína tried her best to smile. "I guess you know what you are doing..."

"I wouldn't go that far," he replied, "but I know whose side I'm on."