'Our first order of business,' Thranduil began, carefully not looking too closely at the elves assembled before him, 'will be to decide on the matter of the death of the messenger; namely, whether his death was murder or accident. I have looked over the depositions, but those of you who made these reports, I would have you repeat for me your impressions of events. I will not make so bold as to call one of the witnesses to my presence; I rather think Lord Námo has been in my forests enough for the moment…'

It was intended to lift the mood a little, but as Thranduil allowed his eyes to rest on the company, he realised it had not had the effect he had wanted. Master Parvon was looking as guilty as if he had not only killed the messenger, but was responsible for the deaths by dragon and flame besides… Commander Triwathon looked only marginally less shifty… there was a slight possibility, perhaps, that he may be in some way… not exactly to blame… but… not entirely free from complicity…

Master Faerveren looked a little flustered, but then Thranduil's understanding that he was quite a junior underscribe and so events of the previous few days had probably been rather taxing for him… Healer Maereth was standing close to the youngster, and, ah, yes, he remembered Healer Maereth… she had been quite shy at one time, rather in awe of him… time seemed to have steadied her and certainly while she and he had been at the New Palace, there had been no difficulties of understanding. Making up the group was Lord Arveldir, no longer in the king's employ… Thranduil had been told, of course, of the arrival of the Imladris elves in time to assist against the dragons… Erestor, Arveldir's husband had been injured while bringing an elfling to safety; no doubt Arveldir was wishing to get back to his spouse as soon as may be…

'Very well. Since I have had chance to peruse all the reports – a very thorough job, someone ought to thank the scribe responsible… I think a very few questions will suffice. Healer Maereth, you examined the commander just after the incident?'

Healer Mae gulped as she bowed.

'Yes, my lord king, I did and he – his throat – was terribly marked and bruised. Once could make out the impressions of individual fingers, and he was most distressed.'

'The bruising is still there now,' Healer Nestoril added. 'Faded, but present. As is the distress caused by the encounter, I might add.'

'And the examination you made of the deceased, Healer Maereth?'

'To clarify, there were no marks on the body such as might be made by a blade. A large contusion, just forming, showed on the jaw, but the cause of death was a broken neck. Residue of soap solution and blood on the underside of the deceased's footwear shows where he had skidded and, from where the body came to rest against the wall, fallen and broken his neck.'

'That is quite clear, thank you, Maereth.'

Arveldir cleared his throat and bowed himself forward.

'Sire, if you will permit me to speak? I have other matters pending…'

'Of course. How is Erestor?'

'In fact, my lord king, he is improving, and wants to leave for home as soon as possible. I am attempting to keep him still long enough to properly heal in order to facilitate his wishes.'

Thranduil hid a smile. He had missed the refined banter he had used to enjoy with his advisor; Master Parvon was still a little too junior to allow himself to believe his king might enjoy a joke on occasion.

'Choose your own words, then, Arveldir, but be thorough.'

'Sire. On being told of the death, I went to examine the room and the body; it was felt I was an impartial witness and could speak with a degree of authority. As Healer Maereth has said, there were no indications of bladed wounds; this is relevant because had Master Parvon intended to injure the messenger, he would surely have armed himself. It is true that he struck a blow with his fist, but it was to assist the Commander who was under attack at the time. To the attack there is an independent witness whom, alas, we cannot call to speak for himself. But the Vala lord Námo was here to collect the fëa of the deceased and he saw the events leading to the death.'

'Quite. Very well, you may leave if you wish, or remain to hear my judgement.'

Arveldir bowed again, retreating to a station close to the doors and Thranduil paused for a moment. By rights he ought to call Triwathon to speak up, and Parvon, but he had already had private speech with the advisor and as for the commander… he was not quite sure the alleged attack had been intended as a violent one, but had probably become one when Triwathon had protested; he had no wish to make him speak of what must have been an uncomfortable experience at the least.

'To summarise. An unfortunate misunderstanding on the part of the garrison duty guard led to the door to Lord Glorfindel's resting place being left unmonitored while Commander Triwathon was within. The messenger – who had just been found responsible for a gross dereliction of duty, and who may have been looking for a place to hide, instead finding Commander Triwathon within, laid violent hands upon him. Master Parvon, happening by, and too worried to consider calling for help, pulled the attacker away and hit him, causing the deceased to slip and fall, breaking his neck in the process. That the death was accidental is attested to, not only by several Silvans of good repute, but by one of the Valar themselves. Therefore it is our finding that Master Parvon has nothing about which to reproach himself and he is completely exonerated of any culpability in this matter.'

Parvon's sigh of relief was audible, and, Thranduil noted, echoed by more than one elf in the hall. The advisor seeming to become suddenly unsteady, Thranduil glanced towards Nestoril, hoping to give her a hint, but before his hint was needed, Commander Triwathon had opened the doors.

'Dismissed,' Thranduil said hastily, realising Triwathon intended beating a retreat with Parvon whether granted permission or no… at least it looked like an order now. 'I will speak with you tomorrow, Commander.'

'As my king pleases,' Triwathon said.

He grabbed Parvon by the elbow, leading him from the room with Faerveren on his other side and Arveldir in close pursuit. Healer Maereth deciding now was a good time to make her own exit, the king was left with only Healer Nestoril for company.

'That went well, I think,' he said, and Ness smiled with a shrug.

'Poor Parvon! He has been quite anxious, you know! Convinced it was his fault, and imagining all sorts of things….'

'Indeed.' Thranduil unbent a little, sighing out a breath. 'He came to see me privately, and offered to exile himself, in fact, as punishment.'

'Goodness! Poor Parvon! I wonder what can have made him even consider such a thing?'

'That, my dear friend, is something you are perhaps better placed to discover than am I.'

*
As soon as Parvon seemed to have recovered his stability, Triwathon released his supporting grip and Faerveren fell into step behind the two of them, Healer Maereth at his side. Parvon laughed.

'Really, I do not need such an escort, nor so much care, it was just the relief… I am fine.'

'Then shall we return to the Palace Office?' Faerveren suggested. 'There have been countless enquiries to answer, and as I had been called to the meeting, I have not been able to deal with any of them…'

Triwathon laughed.

'And so, if you really are fine, my friend, I am sure you will enjoy getting back to work immediately… or you could come and help me with a matter in my office? We will disturb Faerveren less that way as he tries to sort out these enquiries of his…'

'They are not my enquiries, Commander, but…'

'Or Parvon could come with me and I can make sure he is left alone to recover!' Maereth said. 'The pair of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, let our poor friend have a moment…'

'I am fine, really! Very well… Triwathon, is it an urgent matter?'

'No, it was just a way for you to escape work for an hour, if you needed it. I am sure Faerveren can cope admirably alone…'

'In fact, Commander, my Daerada has been taking care of the office while we were with our king; I will not be alone.'

'In which case…' Maereth began, to be cut off by Parvon's shake of the head.

'In which case, as I am not longer under house arrest, I think I would like to walk in the forest for a little. Commander, if you're worried about the safety of our boundaries, you may come with me if you wish.'