Duilin stood up, stumbled towards a couch, and then stumbled and fell. Idril panted, and pulled off her mail. She seemed to gasp for breath, as if the light elven mail had been a heavy coat of steel. She looked upon Duilin, he wore no armor, and his chest seemed to fall inwards. His mouth was open, and Idril put her ear to his lips.
"Maeglin is a thrall of Morgoth. The presence of his servants has caused him to put back his collar. Farewell princess."
Tears streamed down her face. "Farewell" she whispered. Then her face seemed to grow stern, and she donned once again her shirt of mail, and turned to Ëarendil.
"We must hide, for Morgoths army is mighty indeed, and shall destroy us. We shall wait for Tuor's return and then escape to the tunnel."