Parvon was glad he had Triwathon with him as he made his way through the forest towards the three villages, for had he been alone, he thought he would have wept.

Close to the New Palace, there was little evidence of the terrible events that had ravaged the community, but once past the memorial cairn, pausing to bow and taking the path to Beech as being nearest, Parvon saw, smelled, felt the devastation increased exponentially, leaving him horrified and Triwathon shaking his head.

They halted close to the Heart Grove of Beech Village to take stock. A smell of stale smoke lingered, the taint of charring, of burnt meats faint amongst the dark stench of destruction. Many of the trees were blackened obelisks of once-living wood, several smaller saplings had succumbed completely and fallen to the forest floor. Ash lay thick in drifts and mounds and those trees that survived were silent with shock and fear.

'It was so different, on the night,' the commander said.

'Darkness hides much, and the shadows between the flames hid more, I think. Besides, I believe I might have wished to find the damage less than I remembered… but it is so much more than I imagined.' Parvon sighed. 'We ought to go nearer, I suppose.'

'There may be danger, still. My company hasn't been out since the first sweep to check nobody was left to bring in,' Triwathon said. 'I wanted volunteers to come and make all safe, but once that was done, I had not the heart to ask again.'

'I'll risk it, if you will.'

Together they crossed the grove, Triwathon leading the way towards the water tanks.

'Empty. They insisted on staying to fight the fires, and it seems they used all their supplies. But it wasn't enough.'

No. It could never have been enough.

'I suppose I will need to interview the survivors,' Parvon said, his voice heavy. 'The king will want written reports, and our own perspective is only from after the attacks started… they will blame us, you know, for not keeping them safe, although we tried…!'

'We did, we both tried. But when village elders go to the king and protest that the Palace Garrison and Palace Office are interfering in their attempts at a natural life, what is the king to do? They refused our help, they said they could cope without our help, that we were interfering and imposing our order on their lifestyles… I doubt they expected this, though; none of us did! I thought, at the worst, an odd orc-pack or two, having survived and hidden out. Or… or wargs, hunting… but not dragons, not so many, not so much…!'

'How many arguments did you have with the villagers on the night, trying to get them to leave as the flames reached for them? How much time was wasted? Do you really think, with clear skies and all well, that anyone would have believed the message from the Old Palace, had it arrived in time? No, I think your warriors would have had to march them, at sword-point, to safety…'

Triwathon gave a sharp laugh.

'Yes, they never would listen… perhaps it is me, perhaps they take me too lightly because I am young for this job, or because of my past, my previous associations… but…'

'No, not that, Triw.' Parvon softened his voice. 'You are young for this sort of command, fair enough. But so am I, really; that was the point, that we would move forward into the Fourth Age more easily because we were not so tied to the Third… to start anew, in a different location, to bring first those elves who would be bold enough to live amongst the trees again… that it also brought some of the real die-hards has been unfortunate. But our king is here now, perhaps he will have something to say. The reports, though, I am not looking forward to taking notes that blame us for all this and I can't ask my assistant to do more than he is, and I cannot delegate outside of the Palace Office…'

'Well… it's not my business, I know, but if… I have a thought… you know the ever-friendly Master Merenor? Did he not say, if there is anything he can do to help…?'

'Yes?' Parvon was glad to be diverted from his sombre thoughts. 'Set him to flirting with the homeless elves?'

'Something like that… I was thinking, King's Office elf… you might ask him to take the depositions on behalf of the Palace Office. Delegate to him.'

'Triw, that's perfect, he's such a charmer, and both ellith and ellyn alike can't help but like him… and he's not seen as a New Palace elf, so they will be glad to talk to him…'

'To give their – ahem – unbiased versions of events to an objective witness… I doubt we will be seen in a good light, but you would, at least, be spared the accusations of the dispossessed to your face…'

The change of subject, and the prospect of letting another elf take the strain of hearing complaints for a while, buoyed Parvon's spirits and kept the pair of them so occupied on the way home that they were within sight of the gates before they knew it. Abruptly, Triwathon stopped.

'Parvon… I had intended going to the place where… where our friend… where the Lord of Gondolin fell… would you… come back with me?'

'He is not there, Triwathon,' Parvon said softly, as gently as he could. 'And I would come with you, of course, but… seeing the glade again would only sadden your heart. I do not say, don't think of him, release him from your thoughts… but… try not to make yourself sadder than you need be. You don't deserve to suffer.'

Triwathon shook his head.

'None of us deserve it, Parvon, my friend. And yet it is happening to so many of us… but you are right. Come. I need to organise my troops and you have an elf to set to work.'

Master Merenor was delighted to be given a job to do.

'I love talking to people, you know! Perhaps, if it's not too much trouble, someone else could sit in with me? My Hanben, maybe, or Master Faerveren, or someone from the healers' rooms…? It is just, it is bound to be upsetting, and if an elf cries, well, one would have to offer comfort, and I would like a witness there in case any distressed elves wanted to be more comforted than I, as a married ellon, can offer…?'

Parvon carefully kept his mouth from smiling; Merenor's eyes were solemn, but there was an air of innocent mischief about him that almost dared Parvon to say something…

'An excellent notion! Then, if one of you misses something, the other is bound to hear it… I will arrange a nice room for you to set up in, warm, and with good chairs to put people at ease. I am not sure how to organise it… perhaps an announcement at dinner…?'

'If so, then make sure they know I only work during sensible hours!' Merenor said. 'I do like to spend time with my family, you know!'

'Master Merenor, that is one of two things everyone knows about you.'

'Dare I ask what the other is?'

'That you are devoted to your husband, of course.'