The first hour of Parvon's duty passed quietly. A room had been prepared, gently lit, calm and dim and suited to contemplation, the Starlight Gemstone presented on a table, seating around it so that people could either file past and pay their respects, or sit and ponder.

Presently he stood watch alone, for the expected representative from the guard was not due until after the first duty session at the practice grounds; mostly those who came in at first were the Healers themselves.

'I remember him, of course,' Healer Nestoril said as she stood by the table. 'He eased my burdens after the Battle of the Three Dragons, had a hand in our king's restoration, supported the princes in their illnesses. Later, he brought me home from a long way away when I was sad in spirit.' She sat, glancing at Parvon. 'Join me?'

'I am on duty, Healer.'

'Be on duty here, with me. Just for a moment. It strikes me you must have your own memories.'

Parvon left his station and took a chair near the Healer. He gestured towards the stone.

'Mostly I remember his effect on other people. How, with his encouragement, Triwathon began to grow in confidence.'

'Indeed. For myself, I find it hard to reconcile his kindness, his gentleness, with the Hero of Gondolin who killed a Balrog, even with our friend who fought to keep the New Palace safe from dragons.'

'I rather think he had in mind keeping Triwathon safe from dragons; the rest of us were incidental. Even so, we owe him great thanks.'

The Healer smiled, patted his hand.

'When you are done for the morning, come to my study. I will have hot tea and honey cakes waiting.'

She rose and left silently, allowing Parvon to return to his station by the wall.

Time passed. Parvon's mind drifted; he had not slept well, too aware of the nearness of his hostesses after so long used to sleeping in his own small rooms with nobody else in the corridors. He had found it difficult, too, not to consider the effect Melpomaen and Lindir would have on Triwathon, when they met; the commander would surely be moved by the elves' beauty and grief, and while Parvon did not think Lindir would be in need of that sort of solace, Melpomaen, perhaps, would be not inconsolable, and Triwathon… well, Triwathon had shown he was over the worst of his own grief and what more natural than that he should offer such comfort as he could…?

'Master Parvon?' Nestoril looked in and smiled. 'It is the end of the breakfast hour; I expect people will start coming soon. Meanwhile, I have Lindir and Melpomaen who would like to sit with the stone for a time, so if you would gently remind them this is now a public remembrance, should they seem to mind… I have explained it to them, but I feel they are still rather close to their loss.'

'Of course, Healer.'

'By all means let them close the door, but I shall tell other visitors to knock, and the door must be opened to them…' Nestoril sighed. 'This is not your job, Parvon!'

'No, but it is no hardship to stand honour guard. Besides, I like Melpomaen and Lindir.'

'As do I. I remember Lindir from before, of course; he seems far more distressed than I would have anticipated. But then, I only know him a little. Well, I will send them in to you.'

She returned presently and ushered the two Imladris elves into the room.

'Master Parvon is officially on duty, and so is not supposed to chat,' she told them. 'But until other elves arrive, it will be all right, I think.'

'Thank you,' Melpomaen bowed to the healer. 'We are grateful.'

Nestoril left, leaving the door ajar; Lindir closed it and went to the stone, reaching out. He hesitated.

'I do not know if I may touch the stone?' he said, glancing at Parvon.

'It is quite acceptable to handle the gemstone, Master Lindir,' Parvon said. 'You may sit, if you wish.'

'Master Parvon…' Melpomaen shook his head. 'I wish to thank you for all you have done, for trying to make all easy for us, but… now is not the moment.'

Parvon gave a small shake of his head.

'Here we honour the sacrifice of the Lord of Gondolin,' he said. 'Here memories are to be released to the gemstone, given to its safekeeping. Be at peace as you honour your dead.'

'Thank you.' Lindir cupped the stone, breathed on its surface, smoothed it. 'I remember our friend. He… I remember, he would growl, sometimes. But he was really only ever annoyed if Elrond was… being Elrond. Or if he was hung-over. And I remember…'

Parvon half-listened, mostly just taking in the melodic rise and fall of Lindir's musical voice. Melpomaen began to speak too, adding in his memories, trying always to turn to something uplifting, hopeful.

A knock on the door interrupted. Lindir started, gasping in a breath. Melpomaen gently took the stone from him and placed it in its cradle.

Parvon left his post to open the door, saw Thindorion there and bowed formally to his friend, retreating to the wall once more and hoping Thindo recognised the formality of the situation and the potential for awkwardness. He seemed to, for he came forward and bowed to the stone.

'I remember him, the Lord of Gondolin.' He crossed behind the seating and stood with his hands folded. 'We who were here when our king returned from the Battle of the Three Dragons, we remember how he rode in as one of our warriors, bedaubed with battle paint and showing his marks of honour as did the rest of the king's guard. My friend Triwathon rode at his side, and the whole palace heard tales of the aid the Balrog-slayer had given our king. Once again, we hear how he saved our friends and, this time, did not survive.'

Lindir scraped back his chair, rising hastily. Melpomaen followed suit.

'We remember him,' Lindir said. 'He was our friend.'

'May you remember him in peace,' Melpomaen added with a bow to Thindorion. He nodded fractionally towards Parvon, and led Lindir from the room.

Thindorion placed his hand on his heart and bowed towards the elves as they left. After a moment, he shut the door and came back in.

'Well, that wasn't as difficult as I expected! They are a lovely couple, those two, are they not?'

Parvon found he'd been holding his breath, now exhaled, but did not relax completely.

'Officially, I am on duty, Master Thindorion.'

'So you can't talk freely. I understand.' Thindorion sighed, toyed idly with the Starlight Gemstone in a decidedly less-than-reverential manner, set it down. He tilted his head at Parvon. 'Whatever else he was, the Balrog-slayer, he was good for business.'

'He was good for Triwathon.'

'Do you think so? The way I see it, he stole our hope… Even then I knew I'd no forever with Triwathon coming, but I had at least hoped for a pleasant interlude; I'd planned on visiting him, condolence on his Red's death, you know, rekindle the friendship, and not only once I'd seen him in his paint… and then didn't he and this golden hero turn into the corridor ahead of me, and Triwathon's head on his shoulder, his arm round Triwathon's waist…? and you, you lost more of him than I did…'

'But I had already reconciled myself to a celibate life. That Triw be happy was more important than on whom that happiness depended.'

'You see, I can't be like that,' Thindorion shook his head. 'Too selfish. I suppose… Red wasn't very good to him, did you know? One day I'll tell you the whole tale or… well, if there's time before I sail. Anyway, I resented that he'd been hurt, I was sorry for his grief but glad he wasn't Red's any more… and then I saw him falling for this golden fellow and I knew it would end in tears…'

'I think there was sadness when they parted, but they parted friends. They did so, in fact, for Triwathon to take up his current post as Commander of the New Palace; do not forget, that as long as he has led the garrison there, I had been the Chief Advisor, so I was witness to his mood and his mind.'

'But not his heart.'

'No, if you mean he did not confide in me, he did not, at first. But I was close enough to him to know when his mood was sad, when he was happy and content. Certainly, those early years were busy, but he thrived. The tears came really from his friend's death. It was only then, I think, that he felt things had not been finished between them.'

Thindorion sighed.

'Yes, but… perhaps really I feel aggrieved that I did not speak sooner. But Triwathon said it would have made no difference, that the time would not have been right earlier. Well. The time has run out for Triwathon and me, in any case, and I… am looking elsewhere.'

'Why should you not? I assume this has something to do with good Master Narudorion? And I do hope Master Melion's interruption yesterday was not too embarrassing?'

'For good Master Melion, it was!' A rueful twist of Thindorion's lips. 'We had been talking, and I had been on the point of letting Naru test out the theory that he just needed to get me out of his thoughts by spending copious amounts of time with him and enacting some of his imaginings… it seemed a reasonable plan… and then the knock at the door! Given I had been at pains to explain that you and I really were purely friends, this was a bit of a setback; Naru was rather cross. But I pointed out to him that it didn't matter to me what he thought, the truth was the truth and I was leaving soon, so to make up his mind what he wanted.'

Parvon shook his head, wincing.

'I cannot quite believe he liked hearing that?'

'He decided he wanted to storm out, so he did. Well, sometimes the facts are hard to take, when you've made yourself up a different story. He came back, though, a few hours later. So it may yet be fun.' Thindorion grinned. 'More fun than standing against a wall in honour of someone who is dead, at least.'

'And so, I shall keep my station, and you may go and have fun with Master Naru.' Parvon replied. 'I will not be at practice, I think.'

'Nor I – at least, it is not my bow skills I will be working with!'

The morning went on. There seemed to be a tacit understanding that if there were people already with the stone, newcomers would knock and wait; Parvon caught a glimpse of elves outside from time to time. But his duty was to stand the watch, and so he let them sort out matters amongst themselves.

Presently two representatives from the guard arrived. They wore ceremonial kilts, warrior paint, and had Glorfindel's name written on their arms. They bowed to the gemstone, spoke a few words of having seen the dead hero sparring, and then took up their places. One bowed to Parvon.

'You need not stay, Master Parvon. We will keep the watch.'

Parvon left his place, bowed in turn to the gemstone, to the warrior guard, and left the room. Outside, sitting on a bench along the wall, Lindir and Melpomaen were waiting.

'We thought we would just say one more memory,' Lindir said. 'While it is quiet.'

'As you wish,' Parvon said, preparing to pass by. 'But do not think yourselves honour-bound to repeat every moment you recall of the Lord of Gondolin's life! You will tire yourselves!'

He spoke with a smile, but Lindir looked puzzled.

'But, are we not to, then? Why are we doing this?'

Parvon hid a sigh and joined them on the bench.

'Because he was dear to you. The memories we Silvans share to the keeping of the stone are the precious ones, the things that bind us to our honoured dead. If one does not know the deceased well, it is usual to remember the reasons one has to be grateful to them.'

'I see. But… of those memories, we still have a store. I doubt we will ever be done remembering.'

Parvon nodded. 'When my brother died, that was how it felt to me. But it passes, Lindir. Your grief will not be always such a burden. I think it is something one always carries, but perhaps it does not weigh so heavy, after a time. And then comes one Night of the Names and the pain has faded and the memories are simply sweet.' He rose to his feet, gave his formal smile. 'Now, I have a meeting with Healer Nestoril, and so please excuse me. If you need anything, send word to the King's Office. If I am not there, then Mistress Araspen or Mistress Merlinith will take care of you.'