The knock on Parvon's door revealed two elves he recognised from the garrison.

'You're Hannith's warriors, yes?'

His polite enquiry was disregarded. The elves shifted, uneasy with ignoring him, perhaps.

'Master, if you will come with us, it is time to go.'

'Of course.'

Parvon was led from his rooms to one of the smaller exits to the New Palace, one of the elves carrying his saddlebags, the other insisting on taking his bow from him.

'Where is the convoy?' he asked as they reached the doorway and the area was empty. 'What's going on?'

'We are going to meet them now.' The elf carrying his bow paused to pull Parvon's hood down over his head. 'This way now, Master.'

It was mortifying, to be marched through the forest with his hair covered, as if he were being led away in shame…

Worse, nobody was there to see him off, to say goodbye. He swallowed, suddenly on the edge of tears. This was unfair, unkind. He had done nothing wrong, and, even if he had, then this was still not the right way to treat him, leading him out in secret with his head covered…

…and nobody to send him on his way…

But at least he had Triwathon's good wishes from the night before, that clasp of the shoulder, the warmth of his eyes…

They walked for almost an hour, parallel to the main trail from the New Palace while day broke around and above them, cold and bright. Finally, one of his escort called a halt. They handed back to him his bow and quiver and saddlebags.

'The convoy will be here soon,' one said, bowing. 'We are meant to stay, and so we will not be far.'

'But you might wish it to seem you are simply waiting, and were not escorted, for your pride's sake,' said the other, adding, 'we hold you in only the utmost respect, Master, but orders from the king are not simply disobeyed, either for garrison guards or King's Office advisors.'

Parvon found a stiff smile for them.

'I thank you, then, for your courtesy.'

While he waited, he tried to get the better of his despondency, tried to talk himself into a better frame of mind. He'd done nothing wrong, it was just being implied that something had been not right; still a long way from an accusation. And while he was still devastated to be leaving his home and his work and his dear friend, he was still a servant of the king, of the forest, and so he pulled himself into some sort of composure and, if he had to put his formal working persona in place, at least he was no longer in danger of alarming his guards and embarrassing himself with weeping.

Presently he heard the soft noises of someone in the trees above and Narunir slithered down a near-by elm and bowed to him.

'I'm heading the escort company,' he said. 'We guards have been told to treat you with formal distance, but nobody expressly forbade me from coming to greet you ahead of the convoy. Master Parvon, if it helps, it's one of my young bloods you're protecting with your silence. Those who know, we are grateful.' He grinned briefly. 'The fellow himself doesn't realise the full extent of the damage he's caused, but he's suffered enough that he feels properly ashamed of himself, even though he's done nothing wrong, not really.'

'I know this,' Parvon said. 'My thanks, it isn't always pleasant to follow orders.'

'Indeed, Master Parvon. Well, I will back to the convoy. They will be within call soon; a horse has been brought for you... and you should have company, I seem to recall…?'

The two warriors from Hannith's company emerged from the forest and stood to attention.

'Good, so one of you, take Master Parvon's saddlebags and fit them to the horse that's bringing for him. I'll come back with you. Good day, Master Parvon.'

'And you, Captain Narunir.'

Alone with his one escort about to fade into the undergrowth, Parvon smiled. His formal persona was settled back in place now, the King's Advisor in control.

'Wait with me, please,' he said. 'In my mind, you are an honour-guard.'

A nervous smile. No more words passing, but the mood felt easier and when the convoy arrived, Parvon nodded and bid his guard farewell.

Greeting his fellow-travellers, he was surprised at the welcome he had; apparently it was very kind of Master Parvon to leave his home just to make sure they settled in properly, and good of the king to spare him… and offers of, sit and eat the day meal with us, join us around our evening fire tonight, when we get home, you must come and visit… it all seemed very warm and kind. One of a cynical turn of mind could read it as currying favour, in case he might influence the choice of rooms they would be allocated, but it seemed to stem from something more.

'For I remember you were in the forest when we lost so many, and so much,' one elleth said with a sad smile. 'I saw you helping carry someone's child.'

'I was simply doing my job,' he said, although carrying elflings away from burning talain wasn't really in a scribe's expected duties. 'We all were trying to help.'

Nods from around and he remembered; these were willing volunteers, those who wanted a new start away from the memories of dragons and flames, back inside the thick rock of the Old Palace with all its weight of history and endurance behind it.

The party comprised four families and several solo elves who had kin waiting for them, a score or so of adults and elflings and youngsters, some of whom had minor injuries and one or two not yet able to walk, or to ride. Parvon wondered at that, for he knew how badly Master Erestor had been hurt and how long he'd been off his feet; some of the elves in the wagons must have been more seriously injured and yet they still wanted to leave…

…but he hadn't, and yet here he was, on his way to the Old Palace in what felt like a defeat.

That evening, Narunir brought him a sealed missive as he sat around the camp fire.

'I was told, sir, to wait until we were underway before handing you this,' he said. 'We've made good time today, considering; if the weather continues, we should be there in two more days.'

Two days more, and he would be back, trying to settle into his old rooms and his old life, and he knew the latter wouldn't be a good fit…

'Are you well, Master Parvon?' an elleth asked. 'You look a little fraught… oh, have you a place in a wagon for the night? If not, I think we can swing a hammock for you…'

'It's kind, Mistress, but I'll be fine by the fire. No, it is simply work has followed me.' He raised the sealed message pack. 'I had thought to arrive home before I started, but it seems not.'

'Ah, well, it is good to be busy, is it not?'

She turned away to attend to something one of her children had called out, and Parvon was left to examine the messages in peace. He had no way of knowing, of course, what the sealed pack contained, but he knew that he'd be left to look over the documents privately. It was too much to hope that Triwathon had sent a word or two…

…yes, it was too much to hope. Instead was a list of instructions; he was to be responsible for the resettlement of elves at the Old Palace, consulting where necessary with Master Baudh, who was nominally in charge of the rooms and ordering their upkeep, or Master Melion who was actually in charge of everything, these days…

He spent longer than was necessary pretending to read through the pages, and then settled into his bedroll and wished he could sleep the journey away.

Mostly, that's how it felt; as if he were stumbling through the hours between patches of voices and food and spells of reverie, coming out of the numbness to be courteous and polite to those around him and then sinking back into himself, allowing his horse to pick him a path.

He came out of one of these spells of mental absence to find the wagons had halted and the elves, those who could leave their seats and pallets, had gathered around him.

'Master Parvon?' The captain nodded towards Parvon, waiting for him to dismount and approach; he had noticed how Narunir addressed him with courtesy and precedence, as if he considered Parvon to be the leader of the company, as if it was his right. 'I have made contact with the perimeter guards and they are passing word on to the Old Palace to prepare for our company and number; the healers have also been alerted that we have injured with us…'

'I am grateful, Captain. And to you and your company, also, our thanks for your escort; we have had a safe journey, but knowing you were with us, beside us and in the canopy, helped us feel more at ease.'

'It has been an honour to serve, Master Parvon. What would you, now? We're about three hours out, given the trails and the wagons, so will you pause and rest your horses and yourselves for an hour, and arrive after nightfall, or press on and perhaps arrive before dusk settles?'

Parvon glanced at the elves around him, the families and fellow-travellers. He made a decision.

'If our horses are willing, let us press on. And, Captain, as we make our final approach, will you give us a chorus or two?'

He took his time remounting so that he was at the back of the convoy and therefore away from the questions he'd seen lining up in the eyes of his travelling companions; where would they go, would their former homes be available to them? What of work, how should they go about supporting their families…?

At present, he had no answers for them.

Of course, he had questions of his own and no answers for himself, either.

Thanks to Captain Narunir and his troop, they rolled over the narrow bridge to the sounds of 'Heroes Coming Home,' a favourite marching song with infinite capacity to fit any occasion. A welcome was waiting; a crowd of palace elves clustered near the gates, foremost amongst them Healer Gaelbes, nominally in charge of the Healer Halls when Nestoril was away. She came forward, her hands clasped together.

'Well met,' she called out. 'If you will lead the wagons round, we have prepared for you in the Healers Hall – for all of you, so come round to the other gates…'

Parvon dismounted and gave his horse to be cared for, went to join the healer.

'Well met, Healer Gaelbes.'

'And you, Master Parvon. We thought if everyone came to us, then families will not be divided too soon, and there is plenty of room while people settle in again; I expect nobody has thought to send ahead and prepare rooms?'

Her smile was genuinely friendly, and Parvon nodded.

'It's a kindness. In fact, the change of plan that has brought me home happened so late that I do not know what arrangements may, or may not, have been made… but this is very thoughtful of you.'

'And not all injuries manifest on the body,' she said softly. 'This gives me an unobtrusive way to observe if the physically hale are suffering without reminding them of the horrors they must have seen.'

He stayed to see the company welcomed into the Healers' Hall, to watch the injured brought in and settled, to eat and drink from the tables set up in the open entrance hall with his former fellow-travellers, and then made to leave.

'There are beds here for you tonight, so Healer Gaelbes tells me,' he said to them. 'I will go straight to the King's Office and see what can be discovered about proper lodgings for you, but for now, allow yourselves the peace of the Halls.'

Gaelbes intercepted him on the way out.

'There's a room for you, as well, Master Parvon.'

'I have my own rooms. It should not take much to bring them back into use…' He broke off as he saw her shaking her head slowly. 'Really, I have no needs such as my fellow-travellers do, I was not injured or disrupted…'

'There have been changes, since you left, Master Parvon,' she told him softly. 'But Masters Melion and Baudh will be able to tell you more. In the interim, a private room has been set aside for you here.'

'I am grateful,' he said. 'But I have no wish to put you to the trouble…'

'No, and you are not. Besides, the changes may well have affected my other guests; your return from the King's Office with more information will be required, I think.'

'Very well. And it is not that I am ungrateful; quite the opposite, but…' He broke off to shake his head. 'No, I am most grateful. And I am not thinking properly; if I lodge apart from my travelling companions, then I seem not one of them. To be seen to be in similar circumstances can only save their feelings. And yet…'

'And yet, indeed,' Gaelbes said with a smile. 'Well, I shall see you presently, then.'