Triwathon had already been moving towards the doorway and so hadn't registered the look of hastily-repressed delight that had crossed Parvon's face; his mind was perforce already elsewhere. By rights, he should have been in the forest an hour since, but the odd behaviour of the two new stable hands, coupled with the rumours about them, had made him decide to take the time to find out what he could from Parvon… that his friend had felt so strongly on his behalf was both touching and slightly annoying…

'Perhaps they do not know you as I do.'

Parvon had said it, and perhaps it was true… and while it was certainly comforting that Parvon saw the truth of him, the fact that the rumours kept spreading was frustrating. There had even been a conversation with one of Narunir's command, a young ellon whose parents were hoping he would find a nice elleth in the next few decades, but whose own hopes had led him, flushing and blushing and stammering, to ask Commander Triwathon, sir, if he was really, really sure that he wouldn't mind if the fascinating Lumormen were to find companionship…?

Triwathon had laughed easily. 'Cínir, if you like him, by all means introduce yourself to him. Just remember, he is not looking for his forever-love, just for an easy association. But do not let him break your heart, do you hear?'

As he passed through the garrison gates, nodding to the guard, Triwathon wondered how the youngster had got on. Cínir's company was working Oak Village today, and he happened to know Lumormen would be there. Triwathon himself, however, was headed towards at Elm which was almost a shame; it would have been interesting to see how Lumormen responded to the youngster's interest. He wondered whether he should have a word with Narunir, but decided the conversation, really, had been a personal courtesy and decided not to worry him with it.

He did hope that Cínir wouldn't be rebuffed or, if he was, not too unkindly… and shook his head. Narunir's warrior wasn't really Triwathon's responsibility; it just felt, sometimes, as if Parvon and he had divided up the care of everyone between them, honour-parents to the entire New Palace and its garrison, all the responsibilities of a family with none of the attendant comforts…

Elm Village looked sadly desolate, but the worst of the fire damage had been cleared or cut away, the ground carefully raked and those trees in need of either healing or remedial pruning had been marked accordingly.

He crossed to where part of the work crew was loading salvage onto a wagon.

'You're still logging everything you put up?' he asked the elleth in charge of record-keeping.

'Yes, Commander; each item is marked with its found location and given a unique identifier which is then written in the book, as we were told. Have there been problems?'

'Not as such; just a general enquiry about items from another village. Having seen for myself that we're doing exactly as was agreed, I can report back and make things easier for the palace elves.' He spread his hands. 'So much was destroyed, of course there are things people must miss.'

'I think it is more than that,' the elf said. 'I think some cannot accept their belongings were lost to flame; it makes it too real, still, makes them too close to events. It was bad enough for us, going through the forest towards them, armed and ready for danger, but for those trapped?' She shivered. 'It must have been dreadful.'

Triwathon nodded. 'Well, I am away to the pruning crew, if I am needed.'

'Do you know, Commander, when the Galadhrim will come to work with the trees here?'

Triwathon shook his head. 'I can't say. Because they have offered their services, and are our guests, we cannot just tell them to arrive on time and at a certain place… I think one was working going to assess matters in Ash today, while another works at Oak Village.'

The elleth sighed. 'We should be grateful, I suppose. Only sometimes it is not easy. I wonder you can work so closely with them, if I may say so.'

The commander laughed. 'Yes, they are not easy to like, especially as they seem to find fault in all we do. But perhaps it is because they know we are the true wood-elves of Middle Earth, for we never abandoned our forests, and so they feel they have something to prove.'

Cínir wasn't finding it particularly difficult to get to know one of the Galadhrim, at least. Already at Oak Village when Lumormen arrived, and bolstered by Commander Triwathon's kind encouragement, he lost no time in approaching and bowing to the tall and stately elf.

'Greetings, Master Lumormen,' he began. 'I… if you need an assistant today, at all, I will be happy to tailor my duties towards your requirements, sir.'

Lumormen took in the bright eyes, the slight flush to the elf's skin, his eager, anxious expression, and gave what passed for him as a fulsome smile.

'That is most kind of you, Captain…?'

'Cínir, sir.'

'Cínir. Come with me, then. I would like to explore the extent of damage over here today…'

Cínir followed, a willing pupil. The morning passed for him in a blur of activity, his delight in being able to stand beside the object of his admiration not getting in the way of him paying attention, holding a branch when requested, offering his knowledge of the trees and the village, gradually answering questions about himself that he didn't even realise were searching and intentional. Almost before he knew it, the morning was over and he was being hailed by the day captain.

'Cínir! Stand down for your day meal!'

'Yes, Captain Durdes,' he said, but then shrugged, his shoulders sagging at the end of the gesture as he turned to Lumormen. 'I am told to take my break now; if you will have my help later…?'

'That would be most welcome, but, young one, if you do not mind, there is a little personal project I would like your company for; we can take the day meal together, if you like, up in the talan…'

'Yes, I would like that, but, really, this talan? It is marked as dangerous, not that I am afraid, but I feel I should mention…'

'I know my way around an ailing tree, penneth! In fact, that is what I seek to do, to support the tree. There are certain energies which elves give off on occasion, which trees find particularly healing; will you accept I know what I am about, and join me?'

Cínir thought for a moment; it didn't really need that much consideration, just the chance to be alone, properly alone with the elf was enticement enough, but he didn't want to appear too hasty…

'And I am on my own cognisance,' he said. 'Taking my break, of course.'

'Of course. And how you choose to spend the time is your choice, naturally. Although I could make a suggestion or two, if you need some ideas…'

…'and you say this helps the trees?'

Lumormen nodded, his mouth too busy for talking.

'Well, in that case, it would be unkind of me to protest…'

…and while Cínir wouldn't have liked to offer an opinion as to whether he thought Lumormen's techniques would do the trees any good, he had to admit he personally thought them extremely beneficial…

'Now, you listen to me!' Elder Gomben snapped. 'I am the Einior or Oak Village and I have a right to see what has happened to my home. And you have no right to prevent me!'

'With respect, sir, I am charged with the task of challenging everyone who comes this way,' the elf said. Although his tone was polite, his stance was forbidding. 'Our king's orders are that only those whose names are on the list for work duty are allowed to pass, and I cannot countermand them. If you can get permission from…'

'Permission? Am I to be running around like an elfling asking for parental consent to something? No, I do not think so! I think you had better go and speak to someone on my behalf and tell them I am passing through the perimeter.'

'But I cannot leave my post…'

'Then you cannot prevent me from passing, can you?'

'I… I can shoot you, sir, if I must, but, I beg, just let me send…'

'It is too much to expect. After all, you were not there when my home burned, you did not help me then. Why should you help me now, why should you not blindly follow your orders?' Gomben shook his head and backed away. 'If you wish to stop me, I think you really will have to shoot me. And which is going to be easier to explain to your captain, I wonder?'

And while the hapless guard was trying to draw his bow and decide where would be an acceptable place to injure the elder without seriously harming him, Gomben dodged into the undergrowth and made off into the forest.

Early afternoon saw Triwathon lending a hand with one of the pruning crews. It was fraught, precise work; one elf had to steady the tree, sending reassuring thoughts into it, another had to ply the saw and sundry others had to be on hand to make sure nothing ripped before it was cut clean away, or fell suddenly and dangerously down. Being comparatively inexperienced at communion with trees on anything more than a superficial level, Triwathon was steadying a branch as another elf cut into it. A commotion in the background, he thought he heard his name but was unable to do anything about it, busy making sure the branch didn't swing when it was cut and damage the adjacent tree.

'Another hand, here,' the elf above called, and someone came to brace the branch as the last cut was made. Suddenly bearing the weight of substantial timber on their shoulders, Triwathon and the new helper staggered before setting it down. The commander had barely time to express his thanks and brush off his hands when Hannith came across.

'Commander, one of the elves from Oak is here for you, it seems important but he won't tell me…'

Wondering what had happened now, he followed Hannith to where an elf was waiting and bit back a sigh. It was Cínir.

The ellon's hands were clasped together and he looked pale and sickly. When he turned to Triwathon, there was anxiety there, if not downright fear.

'Are you well?' Triwathon asked. 'Has something happened?'

'Commander, I am sorry to interrupt, but… it would be much simpler if you could come with me…'

'Can you tell me what it's about?'

'There has been… an incident…'

'Incident?'

'An… an accident. Sir, I can try to explain… on the way…?'

Triwathon compressed his lips to prevent a sigh; Cínir was looking miserably worried now.

'All right,' he said. 'But you'd better tell me everything…'