'…you, of course!'

Thindorion's laughing reply echoed through Triwathon's thoughts as he tried to focus on the day reports from the garrison. The information that Hannith, having come in with the convoy, was now off duty and Narunir would go out on the return journey swam before his eyes and he recognised the import of the text; Hannith needed the night to herself and Narunir was already owed several hours' downtime…

… but nothing of note seemed to have happened during the convoy's return, other than a comment about how willing a helper the passenger had been, but that his archery skills were not as polished as he thought they were… that brought a smile to Triwathon's face; of the three of them, Thindorion was definitely the worst shot, but as he'd decided the guard wasn't for him, it hadn't mattered too much…

…but what was Thindo doing here? Surely not simply a visit to an old friend before taking ship, they hadn't been that close, not for a very long time… not, really, since Maedon's death (it was all right to think the name, just not to say it…)

'Commander?' A smart rap at his half-open door and he looked up from shuffling impenetrable pages of perfectly-legible reports. 'If you want some time, sir…?'

'That's good of you, Narunir, but not necessary.'

'There's nothing in the reports except one of the newest recruits shot at a squirrel. He missed, which was good for the squirrel, but earned him a reprimand for, firstly, loose shooting, and secondly, poor aim. He'll be on the practice ranges tomorrow; I'm leading the session. Everything else is fine.'

'Thank you. But I don't follow…?'

'I happened to join Erthor and Calithilon at table, and they introduced the fellow sitting with them, sir. I understand he's to be my guest on the next run to the Old Palace, so there won't be much time for him to catch up with his old friends, Commander…'

'Ah. Now I see. But you've had a long day, Narunir, and I'm…'

'And so an hour or two sitting still at a nice desk with, perhaps, a glass of wine and the door almost closed, sir, would be perfect. I can do the handover to the night watch captain, easily enough, sir, and I do happen to know where our guest is quartered, should we need to contact you. Assuming you pay him a visit, sir, that is.'

'In fact, I don't know myself where he's quartered…'

'The room to the left of the suite Lord Arveldir and his husband had, Commander.' Narunir gave a tight, formal smile that dissolved into a grin. 'If I can take a liberty, sir, it would do you good to take a few hours to yourself. And there's nothing like an old friend, is there?'

Triwathon considered for a moment. It might be good to talk over old times, the days when all he'd had to worry about was being caught out in some misdemeanour or other…

'Then I will say, I am grateful, Captain Narunir, and if you will permit me to take over your archery practice in the morning, I will accept your offer. If you have any difficulties, it sounds as if you know where to find me.'

'Agreed, sir. And if you wanted to open it up to non-garrison elves, I think Healer Mae might like a bit of a change.'

Returning to his rooms, Triwathon changed into a soft cream shirt and dark green leggings. He rebraided his hair, unconscious of the trouble he was taking with his appearance, and wondered again about Thindorion, and all the associations seeing his old friend had brought up… they'd not met since… well, before Triwathon's posting to the New Palace, and, in fact, when he thought about it…

…actually, it was longer, yes, before the dragon Smaug had fallen upon Dale… not long for an elf, but far too long for such friends as they had been… but the last time, really, he had seen Thindo had been shortly after commissioning him to make a kilt of bright blue leather, when he'd asked for lessons in the dyeing of fabric so he could make some blue towels as a gift for… oh, for his then-beloved balrog-slayer…

The thought reminded him of how fine the kilt had looked, how wonderful the hero wearing it, how… how much Triwathon had missed his Glorfindel and…

But this would not do! The Lord of Gondolin and rescuer of the New Palace was with his Ecthelion now, where he belonged. And all had been over between them.

(…hadn't it…?)

Well. It would be good to talk over the old, old days, Triwathon decided firmly. Nobody knew you like an old friend, after all.

He found a couple of bottles of good red wine to take with him, left word with the duty officer where he might be found at need, and made his way to Thindorion's guest quarters.

The door opened quickly to his knock, Thindorion grinning and sweeping his eyes over him to rest, finally, on the bottles in his hands.

'Now, there's a sight! Come in, Little-elkling…'

'…I do wish you wouldn't…'

'Really? Why?' Thindorion laughed as he took the proffered wine and breached one to pour full beakers. 'You never seemed to mind…'

'Ah, well, I was very young then, and eager to please; I didn't want to lose my friends by not liking the nice names they called me!' Triwathon accepted a beaker and raised it. 'But now I have responsibilities and a certain air of authority to uphold! To our dead friend who liked fine red wine!'

'To him.' Thindorion lifted his own wine cup and drank. 'Ah, this really is good! He'd have liked this, so he would…'

'Indeed; when I need to talk of him outside the Night of Names, I refer to him as Red, for the Fine Red Wine he liked so well. Although a friend of mine who used to be in the King's Office used to just call him 'the poacher'…'

'Really so?' Thindorion laughed. 'Although that suits him better than you know… well, will you sit?'

Triwathon found a comfortable chair near the fireside, set his cup down and crossed his booted feet at the ankles, settling in, trying to look relaxed but really very aware of the presence of this elf who had once been a close friend but who now might think he had every right to feel aggrieved for decades of neglect…

'So, how have you been?' he began tentatively. 'Since we last… since… Ah, Thindo, what happened? How did we lose touch?'

The elf lifted an eyebrow and smiled.

'It has been a long time, hasn't it?' he said, taking a chair on the opposite side of the hearth. 'I'd say, a little bit of you, a little bit of me… a couple of wars… it's enough to sunder even the closest of friends. Let's set that aside, shall we, as something that happened but that we can both forgive and move beyond?'

'Thank you, that's very kind; I do feel now, it was more my fault…'

'When you came back…' Thindorion looked into the depths of his wine cup, found it empty, refilled both his and Triwathon's. 'With the news our friend was dead, I remember sitting with you and his family, with the Starlight Gemstone… it wasn't the best of times to meet, was it?'

Triwathon shook his head.

'There was so much I wanted to tell you about it, about the whole journey,' he said, 'but meeting with his kin and speaking polite, formal memories of him… it hurt. And, after, you stayed with the family and I… well, I was a little ashamed of myself, perhaps. I'd… made a mistake, it was hard, I wanted to confide in you…'

'You always used to,' Thindorion murmured. 'Especially when Red had been… less kind than he could have.'

'I… looking back, I can see now, he wasn't perfect. But I still felt, at that moment… you see, after he died, I was hurting, and someone said he could help, would take care of me, and I was so lost without M… without Red telling me what to do, he always used to tell me what to do even if I didn't need telling, but… of course, it didn't help, and it didn't last, this one, he was coming home to an elleth, and then seeing you, I suddenly felt it had been wrong, that Red would have been hurt and so you would be, too…'

'If I had, Elkling, I wouldn't have let you see. Not if you were in pain.'

Triwathon nodded. 'I know. But at the time, I felt so guilty… I went to the gardens to think and by chance, someone found me there. The… the Hero of Gondolin, that is. He listened, he was kind, I didn't feel guilty or ashamed with him, he only knew Red as my lover who had died, and he had seen how I had been treated on the way home. But you see, after that night, I was caught up in him and then it just seemed even harder to come to you.'

'But you did come, if I remember rightly; I would have been ready to be your good friend and more, had you needed it, but instead of coming for comfort, you came with a commission…'

Triwathon nodded. 'I asked you to make a kilt, in blue leather for the Balrog-slayer! At the time I thought he would have his fill of me in a day or so, and I intended it as a parting gift to show my gratitude and that I knew it would end… and, it must be said, Thindo, you had never intimated any sort of interest in me that way, you were as you ever had been, my good friend who always seemed better friends with Red than with me, really…'

'Well… with our friend the poacher being the jealous sort, I hadn't wanted to cause trouble for you… or for me…'

'Red wasn't jealous! Insecure, maybe. Not jealous; we're elves, we don't get jealous…' Triwathon trailed off, uneasily aware that perhaps that wasn't always the case. 'Anyway, just what did you mean, earlier?' he asked, turning the talk away from his uncomfortable guilt which was now compounded by the idea that perhaps Thindo had been more interested in him than he'd realised. 'About 'poacher' being a better name for him than Red; we all know he liked to sneak into the preserves of the Royal Elk-Tamers… mostly it was just so nobody knew what he was getting up to, but…'

'Ah, this was different.' Thindorion gestured with his goblet between them. 'When we first got to know each other… I saw you first…'

'What? But Red introduced us…'

'No, I did; you were in the feasting hall, a family celebration, your begetting day, I think. You were just of age. I made the mistake of pointing you out to him and saying that in a score of years, I might try to make your acquaintance. He said you were of age now, so why wait…?' Thindorion sighed. 'And next time I saw you, his arm was round your shoulders and you were laughing up at him…'

Triwathon shook his head.

'All this time, I never knew that…'

'Well, why should you? I couldn't show anything more than a distant liking for you, not while he was alive – I don't care what you call it, he was possessive at the least, our friend the poacher…'

'Well. I'll admit, he liked to know he mattered…'

'What?' Thindorion shook his head, laughing but his tone harsh, as if anger and bitterness lay beneath the laughter. 'The things he had you do, made you put yourself through, just to please him…'

'I must confess, I've since wondered if some of the situations he liked to create were… usual…'

'Making you partner another elf so he could enjoy the sight of you?'

'What? But he said that was just between us…'

'Well, he told me about it. Making a point, perhaps.'

'Anyway, he said it was only so I could tell him after, I loved him, not anyone else, not interested…' Triwathon shook his head, laughing to himself. 'That's really bad, isn't it? Now I think of it.'

'Yes. I really don't think you were treated at all well, Little-elkling, I would have been much nicer to you… Can I ask you something? I think I may know the answer already, but… Red… he wasn't your fëa-mate?'

'No.' Without hesitation. 'I used to think he might be… early on. When we were all so young, but then… I do not know, I think perhaps I recognised that… that he mattered to me more than I to him, and I thought, that can't be how it is, not if we are meant to be forever-loves; surely there would be more balance? And I had no-one to compare him against, either. But time went on, and he said nothing about vows, just about wine, and games with other elves, and…' He broke off to shrug. 'Why, I wondered, should I have to prove to him like that, how he mattered, if we were fëa-mates? Should not he have known?'

'I would have thought so. At the very least he should have taken better care of you, sometimes he was so careless with you, he was stupid; there was one time… Do you remember waking up in the Healer's Halls one morning wishing you were dead rather than hungover…?'

'Oh, that! You were there, for some reason, and Nestoril gave you the most terrible lecture…'

'All undeserved, too. Red had brought you to me in a panic; he said you'd overdone it, his words; but the truth was he'd got you so drunk you couldn't walk straight. Or at all; he was carrying you, and when he left, you didn't seem to understand where you were… then you were ill all over the rugs, and still didn't seem any better, so I picked you up and carried you to the Healers, and stayed there with you all night.'

'I… really? You did that for me?' Triwathon shook his head. 'It's late coming, but thank you! I was so foolish when I was young!'

'To be fair, Red was forever leading you into trouble and then didn't often lead you out of it again. We were all young and foolish together.'

'You were older, much more sensible…'

'Tried a bit too hard to be the sensible one, maybe.' Thindorion sighed. 'Anyway. I often thought, he wasn't exactly kind…'

'Well, it doesn't matter, now. Although I did love him. Red, that is. But I found kindness, he for whom I bespoke the kilt, he was kind.'

'I'm glad… I saw him in it, he did show my handiwork off well!'

'Yes, he did.' Triwathon smiled into his glass, remembering again the sight, Glorfindel laughing as he flaunted himself in a bright blue kilt, almost as blue as his eyes…

'And it did me and my workrooms no harm to have Glorfindel of Gondolin parading my skills for me… what?' Thindorion said, hearing Triwathon gasp. 'Ah, wait… his name was in the messages, he was one of those who died here, wasn't he? I'm sorry; he meant a lot to you, I think?'

'We gave him full Silvan rites, Thindo, so saying his name is…' There was a tremble to Triwathon's voice even though he tried his hardest to sound calm. 'But yes, we were dear to each other, at one time…'

'It seems to me as if he is so to you, still,' Thindorion said, his voice soft and very kind. 'I am sorry, you obviously cared for him deeply…'

'It was… it was finished between us, we had agreed to part amicably, and were still friends, distant friends… I have since learned he'd even taken a new bed-friend, that sounds wrong, as if I mind, but I don't…' Triwathon gasped in a breath as he realised that here was someone who might understand, whom he didn't have to be careful with, someone who might, just, know how he felt without explanations… 'I really didn't; I was happy to put that part of my life aside because, after all, who could follow the Hero of Gondolin? Yes? And I had a new command and… and there was someone here who thought I was his fëa-mate, so I didn't want to make it worse for him by parading lovers around and… and I thought it was over with my Balrog-slayer, we had said farewell, agreed to be friends and then he had this stupid prophetic dream and decided I needed rescuing so he brought all his friends with him across the mountains to save us from dragons and we met again and the next thing I knew a dragon had him in its talons, flying off with him, and when I found him, he was hurt and do you know what he did, what the bastard did to me?' Triwathon's voice began to rise and tremble. 'He died in my arms, that's what he did, and it made it all happen all over again, the love and the pain, and it wasn't fair and… and… if I ever see him again it will be much, much too soon, I hate him, I hate him, I…'

'Elkling.' Thindorion came to kneel at his side, reaching out to Triwathon even as he buried his face in his hands and let go of all his pent-up grief. 'Come, it's not that bad. He always did strike me as a bit of a show-off; that is, bringing his friends to watch him save everyone…?'

Shaking shoulders, a sob that didn't quite take over, and Triwathon dropped his hands; Thindorion held him at arm's length, looking into his eyes.

'That's better. Would more wine help? No? I think that's wise. You had missed him, obviously.'

'I…' Triwathon sighed. 'I did, at first. And then, I didn't; I was busy, I had friends, work, new challenges. Then he arrived and it happened again. I knew there was no future for us; his forever-love waiting in Valinor, I didn't even think there was a now for us, not really, but…'

'But the old wounds reopened, the old pain was back?'

Triwathon nodded. Thindorion sighed, gave a shake of the head.

'Yes, I know how that feels, Elkling.'

'It is… I am sorry, I don't think I realised how much it hurt. But thank you; I haven't really had anyone to talk to about this. And to make things worse, the Lord of Gondolin's latest lover is coming here, bringing back the starlight gemstone with his, and Rivendell's memories in.'

'You never know; it might make things better.'

'What?'

'You were the last one to hold him, to see him. You're in a position to offer comfort to this elf. Who knows, he might be sad, and lovely, and you can console each other…?'

Triwathon shook his head.

'I don't think so; I'm not that lonely that I'd seek my former lover in his lover's arms…'

'I didn't mean…'

'…I could have taken a lover again already, but I didn't want to. I turned someone down, and, besides...'

'…besides, who could follow the Lord of Gondolin, yes?' Thindorion said, smiling.

Triwathon's smile started slow, but blossomed. 'You see, I knew you'd understand.'

Thindorion reached to stroke back a wayward strand of hair that had escaped Triwathon's braids.

'Well,' he said. 'I know a thing or two about waiting for the right one at the right time…'

'Oh, Thindo, I am so… wait. This isn't the bit where you proclaim everlasting affection for me, is it…? Because if you plan on saying I must be your fëa-mate because you care so much, then I need to just mention that this has been said before by someone else and you cannot both be right…'

The elf laughed andfolded himself onto the floor near Triwathon's chair. He glanced down as he answered.

'It's all right, Elkling. It's true, I have had strong feelings for you, but… these feelings we can have for someone long after we last saw them… they can't always be trusted, you know.' He smiled 'Sometimes, you have to see for yourself. I suppose that's why I came, to see if you really are as lovely and handsome as I remember, as I held the Triwathon-of-the-heart, to see how my feelings would take to the thought of leaving you here. And you are, still, immeasurably fair. But… all the longing that attached to my memory of you, all the sweet pain…I do wonder if it was for someone who no longer exists, except in my memories. You've grown, Little-elkling, and my image of you has to catch up, I suppose.'

'Thindo, if anything I've done, or said, has made your fëa sad….'

A slow smile, Thindorion's eyes warm as he lifted his head.

'It wasn't anything you meant to do, or could help happening. And a lot of it came from our poacher; at one time, I did wonder how things might have been if I'd spoken to you that first night I noticed you…'

'I probably wouldn't have been in the guard for long…'

'Or he'd have taken you away from me, somehow or other. Well. You might never have met your Balrog-slayer, and I think that would have been a shame.'

Triwathon shook his head, trying not to give way to more tears. His throat hurt from emotion.

'Now you need more wine,' Thindorion said, and rose to refill the cups, passing one to Triwathon. 'It's strange, the turns our lives can take. Nothing can happen for hundreds of years and then the entire course of your future can shift in a heartbeat.'

Triwathon accepted the drink and smiled up at his friend. 'You've become very wise, Thindo.'

'It comes to us all, I think. Unless we're so silly we get ourselves killed early and…' He broke off. 'I didn't mean, you know, your Balrog-slayer…'

Triwathon nodded. 'I know. And… I think it's all right, that he's gone. For him, that is. I think he was tired of being here, but didn't know how to leave his friends. He'd always felt he was sent back to do a job… I'm not so self-centred to think that would be saving us from dragons, of course.' He shrugged. 'I just miss him now, again, and that doesn't seem fair, but now that I've been able to talk about him – for which, again, I am so grateful, Thindo – I will adjust.'

Thindorion shook his head, smiling. 'And you said I'd become wise, but you… you've become… well, I think I like this new Triwathon more than the Triwathon-of-my-memories.'

'Well.' Triwathon lifted the wine cup in silent toast. 'That's something to live up to.'