Captain Narunir being glad of an excuse to escape the fractured atmosphere of the palace and keen to be working, he soon had his company fully occupied at Oak Village. They began by deconstructing the modern trappings that the traditionalist elves had insisted on having with them; water tanks, washing cascades, mechanical washtubs all were stripped down, and the talain made safe. It was dirty work, with ash and charcoal dust clinging to every surface, the trees bearing darkened patches of scorched bark. The task took them two days, with Triwathon and his company joining them on the second day to clear the talain of all personal belongings and bag them up.

'What now, Commander?' Narunir asked as they began the task of loading a narrow wagon with the salvage.

'Get these things back to the palace, and tomorrow, your company can make a start on Elm, same process, strip out the contraptions first and then we'll join you once that's done to help with any surviving belongings.'

Before they had quite finished loading the wagon, one of the Galadhrim emerged from the forest to bow to Triwathon.

'Lumormen,' he said, introducing himself. 'During the journey from Imladris, I was troubled by visions of fire in your forest. Thus it seems good to me, to purge the memories of both vision and reality by service to your trees.'

'We are grateful,' the commander said. 'But I was not expecting you today; I thought arrangements were that my company escort you and your friends here in the morning…?'

'Ah, yes. My companions having decided I should be nominally in charge, and as it was known that you were working in the forest today, it was thought I should come out alone first to see for myself what is needed. So sad about your trees, so many of them just little more than saplings, really… but we will do what we may. Perhaps you will show me around?'

'Yes, gladly. Let me just give Captain Narunir his orders, and I will be at your disposal.'

Since it was already turning towards dusk, Triwathon sent his own troop back with Narunir and his company. 'Stand down for the day; we'll probably be back here in the morning to finish clearing the talain while Captain Narunir's command is on deconstruction duty at Elm. Dismissed.'

Waving them off, he went in search of Lumormen and found him staring at the void where once a water tank had sat. The Galadhrim looked sad, disappointed, almost, as he started at the empty place.

'What was here?' he asked. 'It smells… mechanical.'

'It was a storage tank for water. The elves here adopted some of the modern plumbing you will have seen in the palace – washing cascades, that sort of thing…'

'I have encountered such devices in the New Palace, yes, quite alarming in some ways… how odd that the elves who lived here bewail the loss of their natural lifestyle, and yet they encumber themselves with such trappings…and yet to hear them speak, it is as if they were the original inhabitants of the wilderness…'

'That struck me, too. Our first king, Oropher, he was keen for us to live as simply and naturally as we could. Personally, I think there's nothing like a hot wash in the cascade after a long day's duty, but no, it's not natural or simple…' he sighed. The fact was, he liked the modern trappings Lumormen seemed to so despise, many of which had been invented and installed by Master Hanben who was as traditional an elf as you could wish in many ways... 'Well, come, let me show you what we've done towards restoration so far…'

Although Triwathon began by leading the way, offering explanations and descriptions, soon Lumormen drew ahead so that the commander perforce must follow, answering any questions that were asked rather than volunteering information. Such queries as came were odd, to his mind; nothing about the people of the village, but all about the trees, how had they felt about being used for habitation, had they been consulted first, how had they liked having their watercourses disrupted and strange plumbing all around them…

'These are not questions a commander of the guard can answer, I am afraid,' he said after the third enquiry into whether the trees minded the noise of mechanical washtubs.

'Of course. Perhaps I had better ask the trees themselves, then,' Lumormen countered.

Triwathon had never really spent time in company with Galadhrim before; not an individual, at least, not without other persons present, and as he watched the elegant, serene figure moving from tree to tree he realised there was something about Lumormen he found somehow disconcerting… as if being calm and controlled in the face of all this destruction was improper, disrespectful. But as they progressed around the village, he realised it was more the control of one whose emotions might otherwise spill out…

'What's bothering you most about this?' he asked abruptly.

Lumormen turned curious eyes towards him.

'In what way, Commander?'

'Well, you seem very distressed by everything… that is, I mean, you don't know these trees, and… yes, I've been saddened by it myself, but I've seen it so often now the shock's worn off, perhaps, and I…'

'You have wept, in fact, for the forest, yes, they tell me so. No, my distress is more… to think that your people would settle without asking the trees if they may, and without your king ensuring the forest was happy for such devices as washing cascades to be brought into its heart… I…' Lumormen shook his head. 'It is not my affair, of course, but I am distressed, nevertheless.'

'There was always controversy about these settlements,' Triwathon said. 'But ultimately, I am here to serve the king and his people…'

'Yet you have much blame from some of those who lived here. So it is fair to assume you were not in support of their choices.'

'It's not for me to say, really.'

'Oh, I do not disapprove of you, Commander, not at all… may we go up into one of these talain, now they are empty? This tree welcomes us into its canopy.'

'All right, if it pleases you. Would you care to lead?'

'This is your forest, Commander; after you.'

Triwathon laid his hand on the scorched bark of the tree, sending a greeting into it before beginning to climb. The elves who had lived here had ascended and descended by way of a ladder, the remains of which could be seen just beneath the base of the flet… yet another thing for Lumormen to disapprove of, he thought to himself as he swung onto the platform and rested his palm against the central trunk.

'There were elflings here,' he said as Lumormen appeared after him. 'In such cases it is usual to have ladders to help…'

'Even we use ladders in fair Lothlorien,' Lumormen said. 'Do not, I beg, think badly of me simply because I do not like to see any tree disrespected…'

'No, I… it is more, I feel the need to defend my people, even when I do not really want to, and that…'

'I understand.' Lumormen looked up into the stark branches of the tree. 'And our host does not mind, has never minded… and so it wishes for me not to mind on its behalf. This tree will recover, I feel. It will grow again after its winter sleep. Come, tell me what you sense from it…?'

Lumormen gestured and Triwathon, after a moment of wondering what the Galadhrim meant, gathered he was intended to put his hands against the bark and try to read the tree's mood. It took him a moment to distance himself enough from the thoughts running through his head to connect properly with the lifeforce of the tree.

'Yes… the tree is strong enough… but weary…'

'Waiting for its winter sleep; the fire disturbed it, of course.' Lumormen had placed his own hands against the bark. 'And through the tree, I feel your lifeforce, Commander. Do you sense me, also?'

'I…' It wasn't something Triwathon had ever tried, hadn't even thought of because, really, why would you?

Lumormen covered Triwathon's hand with his own and looked at him with luminous eyes.

'They say the best way to know the forest is to know the elf that lives there… I would learn you, Commander, I can see the there is a weight upon your shoulders and I would lift it, if you will let me…'

The Galadhrim increased the pressure of his fingers and stepped gently towards Triwathon, and any thought he had that perhaps he was misreading Lumormen's words or actions evaporated as the elf smiled tentatively.

'There is space here, it is safe, we are private…'

'It's kind of you. But I have a good friend or two back at the New Palace, if I need someone to talk to.'

'Oh, I didn't really have talking in mind…'

There it was, then; a definite invitation…

…and Lumormen was really very lovely, and Triwathon had been alone for so long only to have Glorfindel arrive and die in his arms… meanwhile, Lumormen was looking at him with a promise and a question in his eyes… all Triwathon needed to do was say yes and something amazing would come and take him away from all his unhappiness and grief, at least for a little while…

But even as he felt himself begin to nod, he realised he had spent almost an entire lifetime of saying yes, to his friend the poacher who liked fine red wine and who dared him to venture into the elf-tamer's preserves, who had encouraged him to try things he hadn't thought he would like… and shortly after that friend's death, to Esgaron, who had offered consolation and a future if Triwathon only said yes, and then had backed out of his promise… Then Glorfindel, but who could say no to Glorfindel? There at least, he had been honest from the start that there was no future for them, and Triwathon knew he could have refused, if he'd wanted to, and then the messenger who had taunted him, who had not heard his refusal, who would have said it was only consent in another language… so he felt as if he never declined, he always accepted, whether he meant to or not, whether he wanted to or not, and he was so, so full of pain and the promise in Lumormen's eyes of at least a moment's forgetfulness… but then he thought of Parvon, who had never, ever asked and who never would, and suddenly he realised that he despised himself.

'No,' he said, more sharply than he intended. 'That is, my apologies if I gave you to think I was looking for a lover; I am full of grief and loss and do not know how I may seem, at times. You are very fair, but I cannot I… your pardon. I mean no offence.'

'No more do I,' the Galadhrim said, withdrawing his hand and standing neatly, still and unmoving. 'Simply, I had hoped to learn your forest through you. And there is something about the emotions of intimacy which have a beneficial effect on the trees, we in Lothlórien have found… but I see now that your fëa is bound to another, even if your heart does not know it yet.'

'…what?'

'So it is I who must beg your pardon.' He bowed to Triwathon. 'Perhaps we should return to the palace. I will descend first. If this will make it difficult for us to work together, Commander, I can step aside for another of my companions…'

'No, not at all, that is… it is me, I am sure it is me, I do not mean to encourage… or to look as if I need… but so it seems to be that people mistake me, and I do not wish to offend you, in turn, for I was not offended, but that you, such as you, would…' He broke off with a sigh. 'Perhaps I should stop talking.'

Lumormen smiled, his voice kind when he spoke.

'Perhaps so. Friends, I think we could well be friends, however.'

'That sounds good. So, in the spirit of friendship, would you care for a drink in my quarters before supper? We could talk about the forest, if you like. And I promise, you will not have to see the washing cascade…'

The Galadhrim laughed and shook his head.

'If that is so, then I would be honoured!'

Although Triwathon was concerned, at first, that being Lumormen's friend would be awkward, given what had passed between them, the Galadhrim seemed to be at pains to respect the commander's self-imposed boundaries and sat on Triwathon's sofa with a glass of honey beer with perfect decorum. They discussed East Lórien, that part of Mirkwood which Thranduil had ceded to Celeborn after the end of the War of the Rings.

'We do not understand what your king was thinking, giving away so large a tract of forest,' Lumormen said. 'But we are grateful, for it is most beautiful. And for a time, our Lord Celeborn had consolation there. Are the cares of state becoming too much, perhaps?'

'For our Elvenking?' Triwathon grinned, almost laughing. 'Not in the slightest! It is more that now there are fewer of us left, he wishes to gather close those who remain, and keep our way of life pure, untouched by those of dwarf and human…'

'And how pure is a washing cascade, may I ask?'

Now the commander did laugh. 'Yes, yes, it is a modern invention, I admit it! But it was made by one of our own elves, one who does not care to mingle with other races overmuch. His spouse says he is just shy… but whatever the reason, it is not something we got from outside! But our king is very wise, and very old in the ways of Elvenkind.'

'As is our lord Celeborn; he knew your king's father, you know.'

'Yes, I did know that. I heard… something… he is not well, they are saying?'

'Sadly, his heart was in Lothlórien and when our queen left, the land diminished and with it, his spirit, we fear. Presently, he is cared for in Imladris, and we will not be so lax as to allow him to suffer alone again.'

The sombre subject caused silence to fall for a moment, but Lumormen took a drink of his beer and set the cup down.

'Talking of being alone, my new friend… if I might ask… how would you, in your role as commander, feel if, say, one of your company were to form an arrangement with one of we Galadhrim…? Potentially just a short-term companionship…? One would not wish to transgress, you see, but the health of your trees would be greatly improved if there were some healing energies spread amongst them…'

Ah. So, it sounded as if he would be safe from Lumormen's advances, at least… although he was not quite sure of the efficacy of Lumormen's suggested course of action for strengthening the forest…

'I make a point of not interfering in the private lives of my troop, as much as possible,' he said. 'And if you were to find one who would find your company pleasant, I would not object. But hear me well – friend or no, if I were to learn that any elf approached was unwilling, or was given the wrong impression of how long such an arrangement might last, then I would take steps to ensure the one who wronged my elf would feel the full weight of my wrath.'

'Understood, Commander.' Lumormen smiled innocently. 'One would not wish to harm any elf, fëa or hröa of course. I do not know how long we will be here… perhaps beyond the stay of those who rode with us, should your trees need us… but not more than a season or so.'

'Then I would have no objections, of course.'

Working with both Narunir and Lumormen kept Triwathon busy over the next few days. He barely had time to do more than smile or nod in greeting to Parvon in the dining hall as they passed one another, and if it seemed the Chief Advisor was looking tired, well, it was hardly surprising, with all the extra work created by the king's decrees… and then, Triwathon was called on to spend evenings in the barracks common room, where his new friendship caused a fair amount of good-natured teasing, mostly from the visiting warriors who had known him for long enough to not hold him in the same awe as his company did.

'You mind that Master Parvon doesn't hear about it!' Celeguel said, handing round the beer. 'He'll never recover from the upset!'

'It's not that sort of a friendship,' Triwathon said, laughing. 'Not that I didn't have the chance…'

'Odd fellows, these Galadhrim,' Thiriston said with a grin. 'On patrol round Lórien once, long while back. They might look so refined and stand-offish, but… got some strange ideas… you watch, before you know it, it'll be, oh, but it's good for the trees, Commander, makes them fell all better… Lot of nonsense, really, just a flirty bit of mischief…'

'Yes, I thought that was a bit far-fetched… I'm sure our trees would have told us if they actually benefitted from us doing that sort of thing in their branches… ah, well, the Galadhrim won't be here long, I'm sure we can survive them… we've coped with everything else!'