'You are remarkably cheery tonight, Master Parvon!' Mistress Amardis said, offering round the platter again.

Parvon shook his head, smiling as he allowed himself to accept another honey cake.

'Ah, but I feel rather cheerful,' he replied. 'I am sure it is the good food and pleasant company! I am sorry it has taken me so long to accept your kind invitation, but…'

'But we are not the only family you have resettled, I know this.' Mistress Amardis nodded. 'And of course, we all needed a little time to find our places and sort our surroundings, I think. Already it feels very long while since we were all on the road together does it not?'

'It does indeed. I hope you are happier now, with your rooms? I know at first, it was not what you had expected…?'

'Oh, we all had expectations,' Amardis waved a hand and reached across the table to where her young daughter was about to play havoc amongst the cups by serving herself. 'Just a moment, my dear, let Nana help you… there… now… Elflings! Have you ever wished for a family of your own, Master Parvon?'

This was said with a sort of casual defiance, as if she knew it was the wrong question to ask of him, but Parvon took it in his stride.

'Ah, well, the New Palace was my family, the office my elfling, I suppose…'

'Well, you certainly had your hands full there, at least here you will have more support in the King's Office… Do you know, we had forgotten, I think, how snug the dwellings are in the palace, how convenient for everything? And we can go out into the forest if we wish, so it is better, in some ways…'

An ellon at the table cleared his throat, and Amardis laughed. 'Not that my Dinemen will agree, will you, husband?'

'I must confess, my dear, that while you have made us a lovely home, I do not think I am quite as fond of 'snug' as you are.' He gave a small smile and nodded towards Parvon. 'I am glad there is a window to the outside, so I may open it and breathe the air; I do not need reminding that all this is done to keep us safe, and I am grateful that our family did not suffer, as did others, but at the same time, we were not amongst those who complained… and yet we must all leave.'

'Yes.' Parvon nodded. 'We all must leave, and I would rather have stayed and seen everyone else safe first, but at least here I am able to provide a welcome.'

'And I have spoken with some of my friends who arrived after us,' Amardis went on, as if her husband had never spoken. 'They are coming to be content, and all agree that you have worked tirelessly to help them. We did notice, though, Dinemen and I, on the trip down, you were not in spirits. You had no say in the matter, did you?'

'I am the king's advisor, and where he wants me to serve, that is where I go.' Parvon shrugged. 'My duties here are interesting and varied, and it is good to help people settle in.'

'Well, as I say, it is good to see you more cheerful.'

The thought occupied him on the way back to his rooms and throughout the evening; it was true, he had been feeling happier this evening, and although he had suggested it was a result of Mistress Amardis' and Master Dinemen's hospitality, really, that wasn't the case; they were pleasant people who kept a good table and they had been kind and welcoming, but his happiness had surged during the meal (over the venison, in fact, which was good, but not spectacular enough to account for it). Looking back over his day, there was nothing of happy note either; he had been invited to attend his majesty the next morning to discuss a missive which had come from Ithilien that day, which was not exactly a highlight…

Back in his rooms he looked at the desk where he kept writing materials. He debated beginning a letter to Triwathon, but not enough had happened yet to warrant it and, besides, by his reckoning, the convoy would only have arrived that afternoon. No. Best wait until after his meeting with the king, for there was bound to be something to say then; the meeting itself would probably be the response awaited about the ship west, and no doubt that would bring more work to Parvon's desk…

He broke off his train of thought to shake his head, for unaccountably, his mood had suddenly plummeted and he felt an upsurge of raging grief that took his breath away and made tears stand in his eyes; it was ridiculous, embarrassing and mortifying, and he was glad he was on his own when it happened, yet dismayed; he had really thought he had settled and stabilized his mood, had got over the angry shame of being almost thrown out of the New Palace and the loss inherent in packing up his life there…

With a sigh, he poured himself a small glass of spirits and sipped it, wandering around his rooms tidying things that didn't need moving until he felt stable once more; whatever the source of the emotional outburst, now that it had passed, he felt cleansed for it, washed free of some lingering bitter grief of which he'd been unaware. Ah, well. He drank off the last of his spirits, set the glass down neatly, and went to bed, hoping the morning would feel like a fresh start.

The next day saw him finding his equilibrium once more, and writing off the excessive emotion of the previous night as a mere chance event, perhaps connected to the evening spent with Dinemen and Amardis had triggered something in his subconscious, perhaps, an unnoticed word which hadn't coalesced into a conscious thought but which had hit him directly in the fëa instead; whatever the reason, he was glad it had passed but resolved to be more circumspect than usual in his dealings with people; it would not do if such a thing were to happen during his working hours.

This morning in particular he needed to be alert; meetings with the king usually required several levels of consideration; what his majesty said; what he wanted, expected, understood. But there was always an undertow, one had to listen to how the king spoke, be alert to the pauses, the variation of tone; it might be something as minor as an attempt at humour to which Parvon was expected to respond (he was getting better at spotting these, and had decided that offering his opinion straight back in a decidedly acid tone both vented his feelings and made the king think Parvon was actually trying to respond in kind…) or it might be that Thranduil had already made up his mind and was angling his remarks so that his advisors would find themselves automatically agreeing; this was harder to dodge, although, for Parvon, easier to spot…

As if that were not enough, increasingly, Parvon had noticed, where Melion may have suggested a particular course of action with which the king disagreed, Thranduil would try to present the case to Parvon in such a way as to intimate it not a good idea, and so Parvon had to be alert to everything that was going on, or at least refuse to be drawn until such time as he had consulted with Melion who, after all, was still Chief Advisor to the Old Palace…

Any meeting with the king, then, was rife with pitfalls and traps but, whatever Parvon had expected from the morning's audience, this particular announcement was beyond even his imaginings…

'Yes, there is a reply from Legolas, he has a ship almost ready now, in fact; he says it keeps the Men busy helping… of course, it will take a little time to get the would-be voyagers down there; it is my wish that they walk, in order to properly experience the forest that has nurtured them, and they ought to carry such items as they believe they will need for their new lives… I understand there will be space for a score or so, not more than thirty; there are some other elves who want a berth…'

The casual way with which the king said all this, the dismissive lift of his fingers, suggested the elves in question were not Silvans…

'Noldor or Galadhrim?' Parvon asked. 'Not that it matters to me, of course…'

'Are you sure, Master Parvon? For I seem to remember you were quite keen on taking ship, at one point…?'

'But then I would miss the delight of attending your majesty's weekly audience, and such other sundry pleasures.'

'Hmm… yes, very good, Parvon, very good, you see, you can be amusing when you choose… now. To continue. We will not make our Silvans aware that there may be Noldo on the vessel, lest they decide not to sail… and so. You will find all the relevant details on your desk, I am assured by Melion… and now…'

Thranduil shifted position, swapping his usual reclining slouch for something more purposeful.

'Parvon, I am aware you have returned to duties as a subordinate rather than as head of the King's Office…'

A pause. Parvon bowed, but the waiting pause from Thranduil demanded a comment; while he would have liked to say he would be content to return to the New Palace in the most subordinate post there rather than be here, he realised this was not strictly true; it was the people he was missing most, and, besides…

'It is of little matter, sire. Master Melion treats me with the utmost respect and is keen to consult me on many aspects of the running of the palace. He strives to make my work varied and does all he can to diminish any differences between our positions.'

'Yes. In fact, I was serious when I said to you that there must be someone with proper knowledge to accompany those sailing down to their ship; all must be documented and logged accurately. What's more, my son has said he has need of an advisor of his own; the dealings with Men are increasing and so it must be someone with tact and vision…'

'Sire…?' Parvon couldn't tell, from Thranduil's expression, what he was about to suggest, but currently, the thought of moving further away from the New Palace was not what Parvon would like...

'…which of course you have proven yourself to have. However, Master Melion has offered himself to the journey…'

Oh. So why mention it in such a fashion?'

'Of course, this is in the strictest confidence, do you understand?'

No, not in the slightest…

'Of course, my king.'

'Good. He has some sense that if he accompanies the voyagers, then you can move back into your place as Chief Advisor of the King's Office. And I must admit, I rather think I preferred your management style, Master Parvon.'

'I am flattered, my king. But the populace seems happier with Master Melion's way of doing things.'

'Is it not easier, and preferable, to keep your king happy, rather than the populace?'

'I would hardly say easier, sire…'

Thranduil snapped out a laugh which sounded genuinely mirthful.

'Joking apart, Parvon, I am minded to accept Melion's suggestion; I find I would rather you stayed in the Old Palace; those who are coming to live here seem to accept your assistance in settling more easily than they would another, I believe. However, you will still be the official contact for those wishing to sail; we will redesignate your responsibilities to render you in charge of the Division of Matters Transitional – elves coming to settle and leaving to make new homes over the Sundering Seas… yes, that will do, I think. Very well, that is all. Bear in mind you are not supposed to know that Master Melion offered to uproot his entire family in order to allow you to be in charge of the King's Office once more.'

Parvon bowed deeply.

'Indeed, sire, it is more than can be expected of anyone, that they abandon the place where they are most fulfilled simply for reasons political, is it not?'

Thranduil stiffened; his smile formal, pretending amusement.

'Parvon, I am not certain whether or not you realise it, but your sense of humour has already reached its zenith today; you may go.'