'Commander? The convoy's been sighted near the eastern villages. They'll be here in an hour. Dispatches were brought on ahead, there's a missive for you under King's Office seal.'

'Thank you.' Triwathon took the letter and retreated to his office to break the sealing wax with fingers that trembled; probably from the cold, there had been a dusting of snow overnight and the air was still cold and crisply sharp.

He read eagerly, smiling and nodding, his expressions changing as each sentence and paragraph was read, acknowledging and replying to the content as he would have done had Parvon been present.

"It is good to see Healer Nestoril back in her halls, although Gaelbes and Gyril are, of course, competent and, indeed, Gaelbes has been very kind. So is Ness, too much so, I think. Very sympathetic to what she terms my 'plight'; I told her, I have adapted, and really, I am comfortable with my work and surroundings, it is just that I miss… well, I miss the people I worked with; not only those in the Palace Office. I miss my garrison friends; I see Narunir and Hannith, yes, but… well… there are others whom I would like to see more…

"Ness has been invaluable in settling everyone in; she came with me to settle the families in their new rooms, and where they would have grumbled and complained, she spoke of how lovely the lightwell, to let in the starlight and daylight, and what a lovely part of the palace they were settled in, and other things of the sort… somehow, she was believed, every time!

"So much interest has there been in the notion of a ship to Valinor, that I have had to ask for clarification as to when one might be ready; a formal request to Ithilien has been sent and I await the response so that I may pass it on, first to the king for his consideration, and then, if he agrees, to those who wish to leave the forest… they will need an escort down, his majesty has said, probably someone who understands paperwork… I think he was teasing again, and trying to hint he meant me, but instead I said I would ask Master Melion whom among the duty captains understood such things…"

Triwathon laughed, but wondered; he recalled how Parvon had said he'd be prepared to sail, if he must, for penance over the death of the messenger… had Thranduil really taken that so much to heart? And Parvon, he wouldn't…. would he? It sounded as if the idea held no appeal for him, but…

It did seem as if Thranduil was actively encouraging his elves to choose to either follow his wishes or leave the forest one way or another; perhaps, now the strife of the world was over, or ending, at least, he wished to be free from strife at home; the king was surely acting to keep everyone as safe as possible, but Triwathon had to admit it had been a relief to bid his majesty farewell, to see the king leave the New Palace – almost as much of a relief as it had been to see him arrive. For while in the aftermath of the dragon attack they had wanted and needed his guidance and wisdom, it was just that… the king had too many ideas sometimes, and his sweeping changes had not been what anyone wanted to hear.

But at least now he'd gone, and Triwathon had the ordering of his own days again.

He returned to his letter.

"…Talking of ships, there is someone on the convoy who wishes to reconnect with a friend before heading for Ithilien and the voyage West… keep an eye out for him, would you? I don't know who he wants to see or why, just 'someone in the New Palace', and so perhaps you can help him find his friend; I think it must either be someone very important to him, to go to all this trouble despite the restrictions on travel to the northern villages; or else it's a clever story to hide some other purpose…

"…However. I am sorry to hear I am missed; certainly, I miss the New Palace still, and my friends there… I do not even have the joy of refusing Master Baudh's attentions to fill my time any longer; you may have noticed one amongst the last convoy, by name of Oldor? Well, I happened to know him to likely be lonely, and Master Baudh is not one to be unfriendly, and so I introduced them, telling Oldor that Master Baudh would take particular care of his needs… Baudh has already thanked me…"

A knock at his door.

'Commander? If you have a moment…?'

This interruption was simply the reports from the convoy; and it did indeed seem they'd brought a passenger back with them, a civilian who had claimed to be able to shoot and so had earned a place… on a visit to friends before leaving to take ship… interesting, considering Parvon's letter...

He kept that in mind as he went to see the order of the wagons, to make sure they could be emptied and made fit for their next load of passengers with a minimal turnaround time… there was also the chance he could get a look at this civilian, see where he wanted to pay a visit to, for, of course, there were parts of the near forest now out of bounds.

The wagons were still unloading, and on one of them, an elf with a looser build than was common in the guards and hunters was hefting a backpack into place. Something about him, the shade of hair, the style of braids, had Triwathon shaking his head… surely he knew this elf…? But…

As he wondered, the figure turned, and familiar eyes widened, a smile broke out.

'Triwathon? Little-elkling, is that you?'

Triwathon shook his head.

'Thind… Thindorion? Thindo? You, here…? And, oh, nobody's called me that for hundreds of years…!'

'Yes, it is me indeed!' The elf laughed. 'I came seeking you; I've a trip planned and, well, we're the last us, the old friends from the old days, you and I. I wanted to say goodbye.'

'Goodbye? That sounds ominous! Should I be worried?'

The elf smiled. 'No, Little-elkling. There's nothing to worry about. Can we meet up, later? I don't know the ways of the New Palace…'

'Of course. I'll get someone to take you to the Palace Office, an elf there – probably Master Faerveren – will speak to the housekeeper about quarters for you. We eat in the dining hall, there is a bell that sounds… there's no top table tonight, so we could sit together, if you like? I have duty after, but…'

'That supper together will do, for a start. Ai, but it's good to see you again!' Thindorion grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. 'I would hug you, but we're surrounded by people… Now… Palace Office…?'

Triwathon let out a whistled call and the garrison runner came across.

'Commander?'

'Take my friend Thindorion here to the Palace Office and bespeak Master Faerveren's efforts to get him a decent guest room, will you?'

'At once, sir. This way, master.'

Later, Thindorion grinned at Triwathon across the table in the dining hall.

'So what's that title of yours again?' he asked. '"Commander", was it?'

Triwathon laughed.

'Yes, I've been fortunate. A promotion during the War of the Ring, and after, they let me take charge of the garrison here. We had high hopes, but, it seems now to have been a temporary posting…'

'The Old Palace is full of the story – and some of the misplaced elves! Dragons and fire and it sounds as if it might have been quite exciting, but for the losses.'

Triwathon nodded.

'That's the thing, though, always the losses… Presumably, that's why there's the sudden interest in sailing?

'Well that, in a roundabout sort of way, is why I'm here…' Thindorion admitted.

'Are you really thinking of taking ship, then?' Triwathon asked, curiously surprised. 'I remember, the three of us, we were adamant we never would…!'

(…the three of them, Maedon and Triwathon and Thindorion, all convinced they would stay in the forest forever, stay alive and young and happy forever…)

'Well, to be fair, one of us was more adamant than the others… and he's there now, anyway.' Thindorion paused to raise his wine glass in a silent toast. 'Or in the Halls of Mandos, at least! Ah, he would have liked this, a good red wine… I remembered him, on the Night of the Names.'

'As did I,' Triwathon answered, although the fact was that he had passed swiftly on from remembering his first lover Maedon to the more pressing, awful grief for Glorfindel. 'It seems a long time ago, does it not?'

'And yet only a thought away…'

'Although perhaps this topic should continue in private,' Triwathon said, as Erthor and Calithilon hailed Triwathon and made their way over, intent on joining the table.

'Of course. And who comes to join us? New friends, Little-Elkling?'

'What's this?' Calithilon asked, smiling. 'I don't think I've heard you called that before, Triwathon?'

'Calithilon and Erthor, this is Thindorion; old friends, in fact, Thindo!' Triwathon said, laughing. 'The silly use-name comes from a time, long ago, when I was blamed for a mutual friend's being caught in the Elk-tamer's preserves; he claimed he'd heard a little elk in distress. In fact, it was I, lost, and as I was the youngest of our group of friends, the name stuck amongst us.' He glanced at Thindorion and shook his head. 'Fortunately, it wasn't known outside the three of us, and so now I think I am old enough, and wise enough, to laugh at a name given when I was young, foolish, and not the respectable elf and asset to the guard that I would have people believe I have always been…' He beckoned the servants forward to pour more wine for them all. 'Thindorion here knew me when I was very young and very silly and has remained a friend in spite of that, although we have not met up for a very long time.'

'How have things been, in the Old Palace?' Erthor asked. It was a cautious opening, because, after all, you didn't know if someone you were about to ask after had died, and this gave a chance to reference anyone whose name could no longer been spoken freely. 'We passed through on our way up before Yule, but were only there overnight.'

'For many, the same as ever, really. Except that, personally, I don't feel at home there any longer; I can't explain it, there is a part of me that thinks the forest wants me gone… no, wants us all gone, I think. There's a few other people seem to feel it, so it's not just me.' He smiled and shrugged. 'There's a tendency to blame the War of the Ring, but really, it's just not been the same since the New Palace was founded. Many of us felt we were being abandoned, I think; we were to dwindle to a good place to stop off between your New Palace and Ithilien. There's been a bit of resentment, and now that you're all coming home, some quiet joy in the corners.'

'I suppose that won't make the new arrivals feel any more welcome,' Calithilon said. 'We were in Ithilien, it's a different situation, we've always felt it's an experimental settlement.'

'You like it there? They say that's where we sail from these days.'

'It's different from the forest, lighter, I suppose,' Erthor said. 'But the prince is a fine leader and the company's a happy one. And, of course, very sympathetic to those not in traditional arrangements… it's no longer a requirement for the guard there, of course.'

'You travelled up with the convoy, you said?' Calithilon asked. 'I wonder you were allowed, given the current mood.'

'Someone in the King's Office helped me; a new face. Well, a new old face – he used to work there before, I think. Parvon, quiet sort of fellow, you know, the type who could be at home anywhere if he had some filing to do…'

Thindorion grinned and Triwathon tried to echo his expression as Erthor and Calithilon, warriors who had never had to worry about protocol or managing anything much, both laughed.

'In fact, we worked together here; he ran the Palace Office,' Triwathon said, feeling a need to defend Parvon. 'I'm glad he was helpful; we are friends.'

'Yes. Must admit, I expected to find it more difficult to get permission to come. Especially once I learned my road to the West would not begin by travelling through here and on through the mountains; I was a bit shocked to find I'd have to leave from Ithilien! But he made all easy for me.'

'That's good to know,' Triwathon said, and turned the conversation. 'I've duty at the garrison this evening; I will need to hear the day reports, and make sure all's well, so I can't linger at the table, unfortunately; how long are you here for, Thindo?'

'I'm not really sure… I'm supposed to go back on the next convoy.'

'That gives you all of tomorrow and another night,' Triwathon said, rising to his feet. 'I must leave you now; I'm sure Erthor and Calithilon will bear you company; perhaps you and I can meet up, once you've seen your friend? Whom were you looking for, particularly? I'll see if I can pass word for you.'

Thindorion laughed and shook his head.

'Really, Elking? You haven't realised yet? You, of course!'