The knock at Parvon's door came just as he was becoming tired of the maps and papers which now covered every surface of his office; the journey to Ithilien was not as simple as it might appear, compounded by Thranduil's stricture that the elves walk to the prince's colony… it would have been much simpler to send them through the forest and then put everyone on small boats to float down the Anduin to Ithilien, but, of course, if his majesty did not wish it…

'Yes? Please enter.'

Melion stood in the doorway and tilted his head, his voice tense and formally polite.

'Master Parvon? Could you spare me a few moments of your time, please?'

'Of course.'

Curious, and really almost anxious, for Melion seemed to be having a terrible morning for some reason, Parvon made his way to the outer office where an ellon he felt he should remember, but only vaguely, was standing with a near-scowl on his face.

'Melion, I told you, I will not be palmed off on a…a… an underling!'

Melion inclined his head to Parvon in a silent apology. From his doorway, Baudh winced, and retreated.

'Master Parvon, would you be so good as to recount for Master Ravomen here exactly what your duties here currently are?'

'Certainly. Master Ravomen, I am Parvon, newly returned to the Old Palace. I sometimes oversee his majesty's public audiences, but my real responsibility is the Division of Matters Transitional; I am the elf who rehomes those elves displaced by the disbanding of the New Palace and, since many find their hearts are no longer content in the forest, I am making arrangements for them to sail to the Undying Lands…'

'Oh. Then it really is you I need to speak to.' Ravomen glared at Melion as if he were personally to blame for everything that was wrong in the forest. 'Well. Lead on. But don't think I will forget how… helpful… you have been, Melion!'

Melion clenched his jaw and bowed.

'It is the honour of the King's Office to serve,' he said. 'I am sure Master Parvon will give you every assistance.'

'This way, Master Ravomen.'

Parvon gave a formal upper-body bow and led the elf into his workroom; Ravomen made straight for the maps.

'So you're looking into the journey?' he began. 'I'm glad someone around here is efficient. We'll take a ship down the river to Ithilien, I assume, and swap onto the bigger craft there?'

'In fact, no,' Parvon said, taking his place behind the desk and gesturing Ravomen to the seat opposite him. 'It is the king's wish that those sailing should walk to Ithilien.'

'But that's ridiculous! It will take two or three times as long, then there's all the baggage! No, it's impossible…'

'If you wish to pass your opinion on to his majesty, then I will not attempt to prevent you,' Parvon said, smiling, trying not to dislike this elf without good reason, although being referred to as an underling was insult enough, almost... 'However, he is our Elvenking, and this is his kingdom. I cannot defy him in this, and so I am looking at the logistics of the longer journey as he has requested. Now, how may I serve, Master Ravomen?'

'Is not it obvious? I want to take ship…'

'Very well; there are a few questions which I must note down… do you sail alone, or…?'

'With my wife.'

'Very good. And your wife's name?'

A stunned, offended silence. Then:

'Do you jest, scribe?'

'Not as a rule, no.'

'How can it be that you do not know my connections?'

'Perhaps for the same reason that you have apparently forgotten I used to be his majesty's Chief Advisor. In fact, it is many centuries since I could be considered an underling and it is two decades since I gave up my position as Elf-in-Charge here to work in the New Palace; I am very lately returned, and have had more pressing matters on hand than committing to memory the names of all the elves still here; if you would enlighten me, we may proceed…?'

'Cullasbes. My wife's name is Cullasbes.'

Ravomen had the grace to look abashed, but his voice was defiant, as if the name was of significance… Parvon had a vague feeling that it was, but could not spare the time, just then, to track it down in his memory…

'Thank you. So, just the two of you?'

'Yes. But we need four berths…'

'I doubt that will be possible for me to arrange…'

'But we are merchant traders! We wish to take with us a nucleus of materials we deem necessary for establishing a business over in Valinor…'

'I was simply attempting to inform you, Master Ravomen, that the assignation of quarters on the ship is not part of my remit; it is an Ithilien vessel, and the shipmasters will have ultimate authority – I understand they even have the authority to deny a place in their ships to any they see fit to exclude.'

'But we are promised a welcome in the Undying Lands…'

'Well, yes, but the manner of travelling thence is traditionally from the Grey Havens, or from the mouths of Anduin; you would still need to find a ship to take you there. The Ithilien initiative is not purely an elvish venture, but makes use of some of the Men in the region and is overseen by the Silvan and Mannish colonies jointly. I have already been informed that there is a finite number of berths on this particular ship, and even now the list of elves enquiring for places threatens to exceed the spaces available.' For the moment Parvon kept to himself the fact that the journeying elves were expected to carry their own luggage; Ravomen seemed annoyed enough without that. 'At present, I am still in the early stages of organisation, but now I have your details, as soon as matters are more certain, I will make sure you are informed.'

'See that you do,' Ravomen said. 'See to it personally; I am not sure that Master Melion can always find time to keep me informed of those matters which concern me.'

'It is true that the King's Office is understaffed at present,' Parvon said, rising to his feet and going to the door to open it for Ravomen to pass through. 'There are few underscribes to do the filing and similar, and no underlings at all, so we must all take turns. But still, we are keeping up. Good day to you, Master Ravomen.'

There was nobody visible in the outer office, so Parvon walked the elf out, glad to see the back of him. He turned towards his own workspace just in time to hear a snatch of impassioned speech from within Baudh's workroom:

'I do not care if his majesty thinks it would noble of me to rescind my place for Parvon, I am not travelling through the forest with… with That Ellon at any cost! Thranduil can throw me in the cells first, I…'

Parvon passed quietly into his office and fastened the door with equal silence, the words repeating in his mind…

…and then he realised exactly who Ravomen was and why the name Cullasbes had seemed familiar.

Cullasbes was the mother of Melion and Baudh – and Canadion and Caraphindir, too, of course. But their father was Merenor, not Ravomen…

It was a sad tale, in many ways, and spoke of a different ethos, a different necessity for the Silvan population. In times past, those who had not found their fëa-mate and felt it unlikely to happen, or those with different tendencies, had often been encouraged to make vows with someone compatible, for the sake of having a family, of elflings. Such had been the case for Master Merenor and Mistress Cullasbes.

But short vows were not always held as binding under such circumstances, and so those who had entered into such arrangements and whose families were grown, or were elflings had never appeared, were permitted to seek annulment and move on with their lives. For Master Merenor, it had been a good move; he had met his forever-love, and was now happily, enthusiastically married to his Hanben; presumably something similar had happened with Ravomen and Cullasbes, although why there was such… such hostility between Melion, who had his father's easy temper and friendly nature, and Ravomen was a mystery to Parvon…

A knock at his door and Melion entered in a little, stifled shuffling motion as if he'd been pushed. He paused to glare back over his shoulder, and Baudh's head appeared round the door.

'Take all the time you need, brother,' he said. 'I'll guard the doors!'

A heavy sigh before Melion spoke.

'I despair of Baudh, at times… Master Parvon, forgive the intrusion…'

'Will you sit? And if you wish to share what's troubling you, Melion, I have had my fill of maps for the moment, and would gladly rest from the thought of the journey to Ithilien…'

'Thank you, Parvon, you're very kind. And you are not an underling, I have never thought of you as such, we all work here for the good of the kingdom, I apologise you were spoken of in such a way…'

From the drawer of his desk Parvon drew out a small flask and two cups. He tilted a judicious amount into each of the drinking cups and pushed one towards Melion.

'I inherited the notion of emergency spirits from Lord Arveldir,' he said. 'In the New Palace, your Faerveren has charge of the keys to the desk; being not over-fond of the stuff, he can usually tell a real emergency from thirst…'

Melion smiled, didn't quite laugh.

'I have never felt like an underling here, Melion,' Parvon said. 'You have been consistently welcoming and diligent in making sure our different duties do not make me feel there is a difference in status. I had an interesting conversation this morning,' he added abruptly. 'Unfortunately, I have been asked not to mention that the Elf-in-Charge of the King's Office has decided it would be a kindness to me if he made himself, and all his family, sad by moving to Ithilien so that I can take over his role. In fact, this would make me as unhappy as it would, in all likelihood, make them. But he is a generous individual, unstinting in his kindness and the welcome he has provided…'

'Stop, please!' Melion's voice was little short of anguished. 'Please, Parvon, I… this was not my idea, so I cannot take credit for the kindness you see in the suggestion… although I, too, am unable to explain that it was put to me this would be a wise course of action. Had not I discovered that… that the ellon with whom you assisted, that he intended to make the journey, I would, of course, have proceeded… and still, I may yet take up a posting away from here, but I am loath to go anywhere with him… perhaps you do not know the story…?'

'I would not put you through the distress of explaining… I know he is now the husband of your mother; it cannot be easy, I am sure, especially with as loving a father as you…'

'Easy!' Melion's voice was bitter. 'No, never easy! Simpler, perhaps, when they were in the south of the forest, but, of course, the war brought them back and there has been an uneasy truce between us; it is not that my mother has found someone happiness with someone else, you understand; that would be unfair of me to say, given my father's happy marriage, but… and, understand, I found my forever-love when I was very young, so all was simple for me, but… but that… and it is not widely known… my mother and her current husband had known each other for far longer than is publicly admitted to; my father kept his vows, all that time, and gave up so much for our sakes, and she sent him to work away, saying it was so he could not be a bad influence, but really so that she and… and him… it is so unfair! I can tolerate him, since I must, but travel with him I will not do, or there will be a kinslaying…'

'What generally happens?' Parvon asked. 'That is, it cannot be the first time he has come to the King's Office…?'

'Ah.' Melion gave a smile. 'Usually, Ada is here, and is out of his office like an arrow from the string! He is delightfully helpful to Master Ravomen and explains it as being grateful to him for making sure he has never had to feel guilty about ending his vows with my mother…'

It may have been inappropriate to laugh but Parvon had such a strong impression of the helpfulness of Master Merenor, that he could not help himself. Melion, too, joined in.

'Ah, that is better! My father never fails us, even when he is not here!'

'Melion, I hope you understand that I don't want your job,' Parvon said, gesturing towards the main office with his cup. 'I want my old job, I want to be there, in the New Palace, helping at its death as I helped during its birth; I could not simply slot back in to my previous life, even if there were a need for me to do so.'

'Are you sure?' Melion asked. 'That is, his majesty seemed so certain that the reason your spirits sometimes drop is because you are working in a subordinate position and regretting that you no longer are in charge here…'

'Not at all,' Parvon insisted. 'Rather, I am relieved not to have the constant responsibility of keeping our king in check any longer; I had forgotten how tiring it could be… But I cannot see what is to be done; we have both betrayed his majesty's confidence and so can neither of us protest his arrangements. I suppose the only valid argument we might marshal is that, since I am tasked with organising the journey, it ought to be my responsibility to accompany the elves making it… but then, I do not expect the arrival of elves from the New Palace region to slacken off very soon, and really, they look to me for support… I do not really know what alternative there may be…'

'I do not suppose there is any chance that you will be allowed to return to the New Palace? For then, I am sure my Ada would love to ride to Ithilien, with Honour-Ada Hanben helping, and that would just be exactly what both Naneth and Master Ravomen deserve…'

'That would suit me very well, but no, it has been made clear to me that I am not expected to return for a goodly time, unfortunately. Although… Melion, how attached to your mother is Canadion?'

'I do not quite follow, Parvon…?'

'If he knew she was taking ship, would he wish to say goodbye to her?'

'He is kind-hearted, yes, I am sure he would. Else he might feel guilty about her…'

'I had thought of a possible solution; Master Ravomen could make his own arrangements to travel to Ithilien, and once there, he could arrange for berths on the ship himself; of course, there is a long list of elves who have already told me they wish to sail, and I am honour-bound to reserve places for them, of course. Were I to tell Master Ravomen this, he would hasten to leave as soon as might be possible, I am sure, before my request for berths arrives… this would get him out of your way more quickly, but if your brother wished to say his farewells, it complicates the timing…'

'Or…' Melion brightened, the glint back in his gold-tinted eyes. 'Or… you could tell Master Ravomen to hasten down, reserve the places, and then Naneth can travel with the convoy; I would have no issue in travelling with just Naneth, and it gives time for Canadion to say his farewells here first; or he may wish to ride guard for the convoy, he and his Thiriston. My understanding is that they are not actually assigned to the New Palace Garrison?'

'That is correct; they had arrived for Yule, of course, be volunteered their services freely when the dragons attacked… I believe they had spoken to Triwathon about a posting there, but, of course, that will not happen now… I think Canadion could easily make the trip down to the Old Palace, though.'

Melion grinned.

'Will you mention it to Commander Triwathon in the messages, or shall I?'