In part, Triwathon was right to think Parvon busy with the king's orders and tired from the extra work, and his air of tiredness had much to do with the constant questioning from everyone in the New Palace which had worn down even Parvon's long patience.

Keeping his thoughts to himself was something Parvon was used to, so keeping his opinions to himself should not have been that difficult… except people asked him, repeatedly, what he thought about 'these upsetting notions the king seems to have for us…' as one palace elf put it. 'After all, Master Parvon, we who live in the palace have not caused any trouble, have we? And yet, along with the rest, we must move away from our lives here and back to the Old Palace… is it fair?'

'Our king acts with our best interests at heart,' Parvon replied. 'He wishes only to keep us safe.'

He had been using the same words, expressing the same ideas, for three days now and finally the flood of enquiries had begun to slow to a trickle. Commander Triwathon had been busy outside the palace overseeing the clear-up of the fire damaged villages and the Galadhrim had now started work attempting to heal the forest. It seemed to Parvon that Triwathon was spending more time than strictly necessary away from the palace, but then, given its current mood, Parvon wasn't at all surprised.

Still, apart from meeting at supper in the dining hall, they had hardly spoken of late, and Parvon noted with mixed emotions the amount of time outside of working hours that Triwathon was in company with the Galadhrim. At first he didn't realise that it was one elf in particular, for really, he was not that interested in them, but gradually it dawned on him that, no, Triwathon was making a new friend... the commander had been declining invitations to the breakfast meetings, too, citing the need to be in the forest early as the reason… but Parvon wondered if it might have more to do with the new friendship than with having to make an early start on the trees…

He chided himself for the thought, scowling at his foolishness and trying not to follow that line of reasoning to its end; it was really none of his business what Triwathon did with his time, what friendships – or relationships – he formed. Just because the commander was Parvon's friend did not mean he couldn't be somebody else's friend at the same time…

But that was the odd thing; somehow it would have felt better, easier to bear if Triwathon had taken the Galadhrim as a new lover; Parvon wanted, absurdly, not to have to share his friendship with another.

The time was approaching, too, when the king and his escort would return to the Old Palace, taking with them Master Faerveren and the first wave of displaced elves on their way to new homes… the fact that the garrison would be losing one of its captains in Hannith, and several of its guards at the same time didn't seem to him as relevant as did the fact that the entire weight of running the Palace Office would now devolve to him, without even any help with the filing… and while, in time, the work would be less, for the time being it was likely to increase.

So when he came upon two of the corridor attendants gossiping in a corner when they really should have been working, he was less inclined than usual to be understanding and patient and, indeed, overhearing a snatch of the conversation, felt a cold fury descend on him the like of which he could never remember having felt before.

'…didn't take him long, when all's said and done, did it? Not ten days dead, his golden hero of Gondolin, and he's already finding solace…'

'Ah, well, these strangers amongst us, they do look well… and why should he not, indeed? After all…'

'Good day, Master Parvon!' the first said, overloud, swallowing hard as he saw the Chief Advisor bearing down upon with a less than friendly expression on his usual serene face. 'We were just… were we not, Iochon?'

'Um.. yes, indeed, Master Parvon, I was just saying to Haechor here, we have somewhere else to be…'

'In fact, you are just the elves I was looking for. Follow me, come along.'

He set off along the corridor without checking to see they were following; if they were not, they would be in even deeper trouble… the injustice of what he had overheard stung him. Never mind if Triwathon had found consolation, that was his business, not that of the corridor attendants – but that aside, they were wrong; Triwathon had set Glorfindel aside more than two decades ago, it was not as if…

'Sir? Master Parvon, we… if you may have misheard…'

'There is nothing wrong with my hearing. Nor with my understanding.' He came to a halt outside the offices of the New Palace's housekeeper and knocked smartly on the door. 'And after you, mellyn-nin… Mistress Lhéves, your pardon, I have instructions for you concerning these two. Having heard they are particularly interested in the garrison and its elves, I believe it will be beneficial for them to be transferred thence immediately where they can experience service amongst our brave, strong guards for themselves…'

'Sir?' Mistress Lhéves enquired, for the two ellyn Parvon had prodded into the room ahead of himself did not look at all happy at the prospect of new employment. 'I am not sure if there are any openings there at present…'

'There is always room for two more on latrine duty, Mistress. Or mucking out in the stables, particularly as the elk is currently in residence… of course, bring two from the garrison to work in the corridors in their stead if you wish, but these two will start there at once.' He turned towards the two luckless elves. 'And never fear; your names have just gone right to the top of the list of those who might wish to relocate to the Old Palace as soon as possible… I shall be enquiring of my good friend Commander Triwathon how you get on. Well, that is all. Goodnight to you, Mistress Lhéves.'

Lhéves gaped at the door as Parvon closed it behind her and only after a few moments had passed while she gathered wits did she turn accusatory eyes on the elves before her.

'What did you do to offend good Master Parvon?' she asked. 'Iochon? Haechor? Just when I thought we had a nice, happy housekeeping section…? And you go and…? Well? What did you do?''

'I… we… mighthavebeentalkingabout…someone…finding…someone when…'

'…but we didn't say any names… well, we couldn't say one of them, but…we don't gossip, do we, Haechor? We were just… saying…'

'Sympathising.'

'Yes, that's it, saying, why shouldn't he if he wants to?'

'Do I want to know who is doing what to whom if he wants to?'

'Just… the commander and… well… can't you help? That is, we really didn't mean it badly and…

'And I am allergic to horses. And latrine duty.'

Mistress Lhéves shook her head. These two were good at their work, yes, but… not so good she was prepared to risk her own comfort to try and smooth things over for them… besides, she had an honour-nephew in the Captain Narunir's troop, and didn't want to ruffle any feathers for him.

'You should have thought of that before you held your private conversation in public!' she said smartly. 'Now, we all of us know Master Parvon is not given to interfering lightly… and that he has a long memory. No, it is in your best interests to keep out of his way for a while…'

The two in front of her looked so miserable that she sighed, feeling a stir of sympathy. Elves were elves, they like to talk, and although she impressed upon the corridor servants the need for discretion and restraint in public, these two were not generally given to needing reminders. About to tell them, accept the new position, do the work, be properly discreet and she would try to bring them back in a few weeks, she was prevented as Iochon spoke up.

'Mistress Lhéves, I am sorry, I may have spoken in the corridors… but it was late, nobody usually is in that area, and…' Had he stopped there, perhaps it would not have been so bad, but the elf continued as if determined to spoil what was almost a good apology. 'But I needed to point out to Haechor that what he was saying…'

'Oh, do not you blame me! And what of what you were saying, that you liked the look of the Galadhrim yourself…'

Lhéves shook her head at the pair of them. No, perhaps her corridors were well rid of these two…

'Well. Go to your rooms, pack up your things, and be ready to present yourselves to the garrison duty officer an hour before your usual start time on the morrow. No doubt you will have to be settled in.'