'I am sorry to disturb you, Master Parvon, but there is a Situation at the Healers' Hall and Healer Nestoril sent for you particularly. There is a messenger at the door.'

Parvon blinked. Roused from sleep by Mistress Araspen shaking him with word that someone was at the door for him, he was still trying to properly wake as he gathered bedding around himself and took in the message at the doorway.

'Thank you,' he said to the servant. 'I will come. Go, I know the way, I will follow once I am properly attired.'

The servant dismissed, Parvon clutched the blanket closer to his person and apologised to Araspen.

'For had I realised my work would follow me here, I would never have taken up your kind invitation to lodge with you.'

'It is not really very late,' Araspen said kindly. 'Shall I leave the door unlocked for you?'

'There is no need; I will see you tomorrow, in the King's Office. Once more, I am sorry.'

He returned to his room to dress and hurried out, nodding again to Araspen. At least, he admitted to himself, she hadn't stared at his blanket-clad form like some females might have, which was some relief.
Nestoril was waiting in the entrance hall.

'Thank you for coming, Master Parvon; it was Melpomaen's idea to send for you, but I thought it better if the message came from me…'

'Is something the matter? Are Melpomaen and Lindir well?'

'Yes. That is, there is nothing physically amiss. But Lindir is… he is with the gemstone, still.'

'At this hour?'

Nestoril nodded. 'Officially, the Memory Room closes an hour after the end of second supper – but for Lindir, I made an exception. An hour, I told him. I looked in on him after the hour was up and he said he would stay but a few moments longer… that was three hours ago.'

'And Melpomaen?'

'He left earlier, alone, to try to make the point to Lindir that it was getting late. Then, when Lindir didn't follow, he came back. We decided the best thing would be if Lindir could have possession of the gemstone tonight, but I do not have the authority to release it to him.'

'As a representative of the king, however, I do. Yes, I quite see the difficulty. Of course, I will be glad to help.'

'I rather think it may be Master Melions's doing, accidentally, of course. He has tried to control access to the stone since it arrived; he means well, and I see his point –Starlight Gemstones belong to the Silvan community. But to Lindir and Melpomaen, their friend belonged to them. Letting Lindir have the stone can only be a temporary reprieve, but it means the poor fellow will not have to give up control of his memories just yet.'

'Is he there now?'

Nestoril nodded.

'Melpomaen is in the room with him. You know the way.'

By the time Parvon reached the door to the Memory Room, he thought he had an idea of how to proceed. He knocked, entered, and walked to the table which held the gemstone, disregarding Melpomaen's murmured greeting, Lindir's soft sigh.

'We remember the fallen,' Parvon said. 'We at the New Palace, we at the Old Palace. We are honoured that he left his friends and his loved ones to come to our aid. He is mourned, and his loss felt, far beyond those same friends and loved ones. Thus, by treating him as our own, we lay claim to a share of grief and gratitude.'

He bowed, held still, rose again and now looked at Melpomaen and Lindir.

'He is not here, in the stone, Master Lindir. He is in your heart, and no amount of speaking or remembering can take him from you.'

Lindir nodded.

'What… what are you going to do, Parvon?'

'I will take responsibility for the gemstone tonight; it is not within the duties of the Healers Hall to have it here, unwatched. So I will remove it, and bring it to safety.' He smiled, an offering. 'Since you brought it from Imladris, you are a safe keeper, Lindir. I will bring it to your rooms tonight, and fetch it from you in the morning. Is that acceptable to you?'

'Yes, oh, yes! I am most grateful, Master Parvon!' Lindir rose, turned to see Melpomaen already risen and waiting in the doorway, and gave a bright smile. 'Are we not fortunate in our friends?'

'We are indeed,' Melpomaen agreed, standing aside so that Parvon, the gemstone carefully cradled in his hands, could pass through the door. 'Now, come, it's getting late. We ought to thank the Healer on our way out.'

'Of course, yes, everyone has been very kind. Well, almost, but… Healer Nestoril! I am sorry, I did not know how late it had grown. Please pardon me and… and we are grateful!'

'If you wish to repay me, Lindir, I hear you brought a lap harp with you. Perhaps tomorrow you might play for my Healers and I, and that will be thanks enough. Goodnight, now.'

Outside the door to Lindir and Melpomaen's sleeping chambers, Parvon turned to his companions.

'If Lindir will step inside, beyond the threshold, I will pass the stone across. It must not cross the threshold again until I return for it in the morning. These are the King's Office conditions which must be met in order for me to leave the gemstone in your care, is that acceptable?'

'It is.' Melpomaen unfastened the door and Lindir stepped in. 'Lindir, once you have the stone, I will offer Master Parvon hospitality in our sitting rooms.'

'Yes, do. Thank you, Master Parvon. I am ready to take charge of the gemstone now.'

With all solemnity due to the occasion, Parvon bowed the stone into Lindir's care.

'Guard it well, Master Lindir, for you will be guarding the housing for the memories of the kingdom.'

'I will, Master Parvon.'

'Come, Master Parvon, there is wine in our sitting rooms.' Melpomaen gestured across the corridor. 'I know it is late, but there is something I wished to ask you about the journey to the New Palace…'

'Of course.'

Presently finding himself seated in a comfortable chair in what had formerly been his own sitting room, Parvon sipped at his wine. Really, it was too late for him to drink, but perhaps the sooner he did so, the sooner Melpomaen would come to the point and then Parvon could perhaps find somewhere to lie down and get a little sleep…

'People think it odd that Lindir is so distressed,' Melpomaen said.

'It is really none of people's business, Melpomaen,' Parvon said with a smile. 'I will admit, I have wondered, but we all feel the loss of the same person in different ways.'

'I would like you to know. Of course, I know you will not tell anyone… but you are a kind friend. Arveldir speaks so highly of you, I knew all would be well when we met… you see, Lindir carries not only his burden of grief, but something of mine, as well. I have tried to control my sorrow, for his sake, but… we are fëa-mates, you see. Every night he has knocked on his wall, I have already been awake and waiting, every day he felt… distressed, I felt his need for support, and I was there.' Melpomaen paused to smile. 'He thinks it is just that I am very good at my job. But it is the fëa-bond.'

'What of the human lady of whom he speaks so highly?'

'Well, Lindir has no idea, of course, that I feel this way. He has never suspected, never doubted, never even considered he might be one of those special people who can find love in a person regardless of their gender. His love for his lady means he does not have to ask questions about the closeness of our friendship. I… that is one reason Glorfindel meant so much to me; we consoled each other, I think. He let Triwathon go before he was really ready, I think, but did it for his friend's sake. But at the same time, Ecthelion, and Valinor, seemed a long way away for him.' He glanced down, raised his wine cup. 'As does my own hope, if hope it even is. Sometimes I think my life will simply be one of caring for Lindir as a friend and healer, but not as an acknowledged lover. But then, if it must be so, I will take that as my willing duty.'

'There are times, Melpomaen, when a life of duty and service to others is not a bad thing,' Parvon said. 'I have found it a comfort, in itself, to have something always to do.'

'Yes; Arveldir said something similar, that service was an honour. He would usually add that being loved by Erestor was more of an honour, though, and he has no regrets.'

'I am glad he found happiness. But you said you had questions about the trip to the New Palace; what can I help with?'

'Ah, it is… well, you know we are to go home from there, and not return to the Old Palace first? I think Lindir would prefer to return and may wonder why it must be so… but as for me, my concern is Triwathon. We have already spoken briefly about him, but… how am I to face him?'

'I am sure he is wondering the same thing; after all, your seneschal died on Commander Triwathon's duty watch, and he bears much guilt that he could not stop your friend's death. He bears too much guilt for all of it, of course, as did I – the New Palace was entrusted jointly to our care, and, due to a miscommunication, a lost message, we were unprepared for dragons. I had not issued warnings and Triwathon had not roused the guard; it was too late when the warning came, and but for your friends…' Parvon sighed, shrugged. 'What you mean, I think, is the particular experiences of the seneschal which you and Triwathon hold in common. I sympathise, but, forgive me, one of my friends has expressed it thus – what a pleasant problem to have, that you both had such a special connection to him. I would try, were it my problem, to acknowledge, accept, and consider it as forming common ground. After all, he is gone; neither of you need fear he will have to choose between you.'

'And if he did, he would choose neither, for he loves his Ecthelion more than life itself.' Melpomaen managed a smile. 'I hope he will understand about Lindir… but if he does not… I suppose it will, at least, take the attention off me.'

'I am sure it will be well,' Parvon said. 'As to the practicalities of the trip, it is two or three days, depending on conditions, with wagons. An elf can run through the canopy in much less time; in fact, after news of the destruction of the dragons reached the Old Palace, two did; Master Merenor and his spouse Hanben. I mention the, because you will meet them; Merenor will take care of you, do not fear. Nominally in charge of the New Palace is Faerveren, whom I have tutored. He is also the son of Master Melion, and grandson of Master Merenor; as you will have gathered, the administrative departments of both palaces are almost a family affair, these days. Faerveren is the one to speak to officially, but Merenor is the perfect person if Lindir is suffering low spirits; he is an excellent and loving father to four sons and is always sympathetic to those in sorrow. Healer Maereth, too, is an approachable and kind ellith, should you need support.'

'I am grateful, Master Parvon. So, we will see you in the morning?'

'Indeed.' Parvon set down his wine cup and rose. 'I will come early for the gemstone. It would be better if I could take it to the Memory Room alone, but if Lindir is concerned, and wishes to come, he must be ready when I knock. After that, I will break my fast in the Feasting Hall and would be honoured if you, and Lindir, would join me there. And so I bid you a good night.'

Parvon headed towards his old, small rooms, intending to spend the rest of the night there. It would save disturbing his kind hostesses again, for one thing, and furnish him with the privacy he had been used to. Not that the ladies were not kind, but…

'Oh, Master Parvon, there you are!'

Mistress Araspen had turned into the corridor ahead of him, a lantern in her hand. She appeared to be attired in three layers of nightwear, and a travelling cloak.

'Mistress Araspen! This is an unexpected meeting…'

'Yes, but we thought it likely you would end up with the sad elves, so Merlinith suggested one of us run to see if there were lamps on in their rooms, so that we could rescue you; they are nice ellyn, and we are sorry they are said, but really, Master Parvon! You should not have to be running around after them!'

'I am glad to do so, however. I am sorry, this has disturbed your household, perhaps it would be better if I found an empty room elsewhere and…'

'There is an empty room waiting for you, at our home,' Araspen said, beckoning. 'Now, come. Merlinith has the restorative cordial waiting.'

Parvon thought longingly of his small, silent, private room.

'Yes, Mistress Araspen,' he said.