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Iorlas shook her head at Lin. "No, don't worry. It wasn't your fault. I mean, I didn't exactly give you a chance to explain anything either. I was jumping to conclusions."

She tilted her head curiously. "So ... what is it?"

Iorlas blinked at Lin, then looked down. "Ah." She folded her hands together, then unclasped them, and then folded them together again.

Earendil watched her in silence for a moment, and the way she was taking so long to answer rubbed him the wrong way. Normally he was a patient man, but this was his brother they were talking about.

"That's it?" he asked her, angry now. "'Ah'? That's all you've got to say?"

Iorlas didn't look up and didn't respond.

Earendil clenched his jaw, but he didn't say anything. He wanted this to work out for his brother - but he was aghast at how little Iorlas was reacting.

Iorlas looked away, her fists clenching and unclenching, and after a moment she looked back at Lin. Her eyes were red and wet.

"Do you think this is easy for me?" she demanded, switching to the Ancient Tongue, a language that she knew they would understand but that no one around them would. "You think I'm enjoying this? That I'm doing this by choice?"

"I'd like to know why you think anything could come of this," Iorlas replied sharply. "Come on, you know what I am. I'm not elf-kind. I'm not even human, which would be one thing. But I'm not even like a human!"

"And treating him like he doesn't exist is the answer?" Earendil demanded. "He's not exactly holding together well, in case you hadn't noticed."

Iorlas stared at Lin in stunned disbelief. "You don't get it, do you?" she asked her incredulously. "You really don't. Lin, I am not a person. I may look like one, I may look elven, I may look like every other person in every town we've seen ... but I'm not. I can't change what I really am. No one can! The woman may have changed how I look, but that doesn't mean I'm not a dragon. Even I can't think of myself in any other way."

She buried her face in her hands. "And it's getting harder to stay this way."

"But that's the problem," Iorlas shot back. "I do love him. At - at least I think that's what this is. So what can I tell him? That I return his affection but it can never be? It would kill him, even more than what I am doing now. I can't stand to see him like this either, but what other choice do I have?"

"You could face up to the truth," Earendil told her flatly. "Admit to him, as Lin said, why you believe it wouldn't work. Because what you're saying right now - what I'm hearing coming from your mouth - is that you would rather see him suffer this torment without knowing why than admit your secret to him."

He glared at her. "You're a coward. You claim to care for him, but you're thinking more of yourself than him."

"What could possibly be gained from him knowing the truth?" Iorlas asked him.

"You owe him the truth!" Earendil shouted at her. "Can't you see you're killing him? Have some faith in him! At the very least, give him the truth and let him decide for himself if he can handle it!"

Earendil had to bite his tongue to keep from retorting to Lin, but he knew it wouldn't help. He knew what Daeron was doing through, that was what he knew it was like. He was angry with Iorlas for the way she was treating him. At least in his own case, Lin had genuinely not known a thing, but Iorlas not only knew but returned Daeron's feelings, which gave her doubly no excuse to treat him like she was.

Iorlas herself was angry, though admittedly not at either of them. "Perhaps he will," she replied to Lin, "but he should not, as I should not love him. If I were doomed to remain in this form forever, that might be one thing, but I am not. And it is becoming harder for me to stay in this form, particularly because of this. If I change, I cannot change back again. It would be irreversible. Even if he still loved me, what could possibly come of it then? What possible good could it do?"