The elves from Imladris had been making fair progress when worsening weather necessitated an unplanned stop on the trail; snow and sleet falling on icy ground made conditions treacherous for the wagons.
So far it had not been a dangerous journey, but rather a cheerless one. The night previously, Melion had been reluctant to free the Starlight Gemstone from its case so that Lindir and Melpomaen could add to its memories.

'I do not see why you should need the gemstone,' he had said, when Lindir had gently asked for it at the end of the first day's ride. 'You have surely put enough memories into it by now! Besides, I thought you said that music held more memories for you now and so why would you need the stone again?'

'Because grief is a process, Master Melion,' Melpomaen said quietly. 'And this is how we have been told we may comfort ourselves; we can talk about him between ourselves, if you would rather, but it will be impossible not to speak his name if we do, and we have been asked not to. It is true that we do not need to store our memories in the stone, but we seek to honour the Silvan tradition which our friend held in such respect.'

'I do not need the gemstone, as such,' Lindir said, his tone sad and shy. 'But I cannot always be playing the music our friend loved and… some things need speaking, still.'
Elladan, sitting the other side of the camp fire and next to Lord Celeborn, overheard what had been intended as a quiet exchange.

'Have you ever lost anyone dear to you, Master Melion?' he asked.

'No,' Melion said, unbending a little. 'I suppose I have been fortunate. But it will not help your friends to dwell overmuch on these thoughts. It is but another day to the New Palace; the stone will come forth then.'

With that Lindir had had to be content; he took out his harp and played for Melpomaen the tunes Glorfindel had liked best, and when Melion had complimented the playing, he had just smiled and shared a secret look with Melpomaen. Elladan and Lord Celeborn listened in silence; indeed, Celeborn had been silent most of the journey and when Melpomaen asked him softly if all was well, he had sighed and said the heart of the forest was weeping.

The check to their progress, the additional delay just when the escort captain had told them they were but hours from shelte,r had brought back all of Master Melion's bad temper.

'And just when we had hoped to press on in haste!' Master Melion said, his tone vaguely accusatory. 'Well, what now?' he demanded of the escort. 'I assume you have the proper equipment to adapt the wheels to
these conditions?'

'We do, Master Melion. But it will take time…'

'Is that not typical?' Melion grumbled, jumping down from the wagon on which he rode. 'Well, let me see… if there is one thing I do know, it is the bad weather adaptations…'

'You, Master Melion?' Elladan asked.

'Yes, me, my lord. Before I came to my current position, I assisted with the family enterprise – we were traders, at least on my maternal side, so I spent many hours with wagons and such.' He pulled up the hood of his cloak as the sleet engulfed him. 'Many happy hours, that is. We did not trade through the darks of the winter.'

'A wise strategy, if one can achieve it,' Lord Celeborn said. He had dismounted from his horse and was walking the animal, seeming as impervious to the weather as he was of the stares of many of the other elves, for he had not spoken since morning other to express thanks for any service offered.

Melpomaen dismounted too, going to join him, leading his horse.

'I think you have a good strategy too,' he said. 'The horses will soon chill.'

Celeborn sighed.

'I will be glad to reach our destination,' he said. 'This forest's heart is breaking. It weighs upon me.'

Melpomaen nodded. The closer to the New Palace and the site of the dragon attacks they drew, the more sombre and sad the environment had become.

'They say it had just begun to recover, really, from the Battles Under the Trees,' he said. 'My new friend Parvon was there, during the recent attack. He saw Glorfindel, was there at the end. But you will have heard as much about it as I, of course, from the king.'

'Too much, I fear.'

'We are not far away now,' Melpomaen said. 'Two hours the captain said, in good weather, not more than four, even in this, once we get the wagons sorted.'

A shout from one of the guards, recalling them to the wagons, other signals sounding out and suddenly two guards were at their sides, bows drawn, arrows nocked.

'Someone in the canopy, my lords,' one said. 'It may be nothing, but come back now.'

But an answering identifier came from above. It seemed to settle the escort.

'It's one of our elves,' the captain of the guard said. 'He's on his way with despatches. We've called him down. No danger.

Presently an elf clad in green and brown jumped lightly through the canopy to land softly beside them. He bowed.

'Lagorion, with messages under the King's Grand Seal, for the New Palace,' he said. 'I was sent with all urgency.'

'You may deliver your messages to me, Lagorion.' Melion held out an imperious hand. 'I will see them safe.'

'I am grateful, but I cannot. My instructions were clear.'

'But I am Elf-in-Charge of the King's Office!'

'Indeed, I know who you are, sir, and my pardon, Master Melion. But you are not Elf-in-Charge of the New Palace, and it is to him I must pass the documents – hand to hand, my lord.'

'But that is ridiculous, the Elf-in-Charge is my son!'

'My Lord, I suggest you take it up with our king; it was his order, and his seal. I cannot disobey a direct order.' He turned and grinned at the captain. 'Ai, I thought I was going to sneak past there without notice!'

'With me on duty? You have no chance! We must get together at some point, and run the canopy together when the trees are not gossiping!'

'Well, perhaps I will have chance to test myself against you later. For the moment, I am in haste for the warmth of the New Palace.'

Lagorion bowed to the elves, then ran off into the undergrowth. A moment later, a hail and farewell came from the canopy.

'Well, that's the excitement over!' the captain said. 'How are those wheels coming? The horses are stood too long.'

'We are not far off,' one of the elves said. 'Just this last wheel to fettle…'

It seemed to take longer than it should, the sleet turning to snow and the air thickening towards the early dusk, but in time the wagon was ready, the horses were re-hitched, and they were underway once more as twilight settled into darkness with the prospect of shelter seeming far, and yet not too far, ahead.

Triwathon tried to take the scowl off his face before he knocked on Faerveren's office door, a newly-arrived messenger at his heels. The fellow was breathless, starting to tremble, although he had been denying anything was amiss all the way from the gates.

Master Merenor, who had looked up when the commander had rapped on the outer door and entered, pursed his lips when Triwathon marched past without acknowledgment, but decided to hold his peace; Garrison and Palace Office had been communicating of late, so he decided to read it as a simple lapse of courtesy caused by important matters, and not a deliberate attempt at ignoring him. Since he happened to know that Faerveren wasn't actually in his office, he reasoned he'd have chance to chat to Triwathon sooner rather than later...

While the Commander waited for a summons to enter, or for the door to open, Triwathon turned to glare at Merenor who tried very hard to look innocently helpful.

'Don't offer to help us, you can't, this is for Faerveren only,' he said shortly. 'Is Faerveren not in? The messenger must hand over directly to him by order of the king and, as you can see, he has suffered from the weather and from his haste…'

'Emergency restorative, the desk beside you there, bottom drawer. And let the fellow sit. It's Captain Lagorion, isn't it? Well, sit you down, Lagorion – I knew your uncle, you know, nice chap, lovely hands… yes – and have a sip. Let me lend you my cloak… there. You will soon feel warmer. Your errand must wait a few minutes, if it's Master Faerveren you're after. Commander, if you want to wait with the captain here, I'll see if I can find my grandson. Or if you trust me with him, you can go yourself. I think Faerveren was after talking to someone about quarters for the Imladris elves…'

'Thank you, if you do not mind going, I will wait with the messenger.' By now Triwathon had found the emergency spirits, and poured a restorative measure which he passed to Lagorion. 'Bring your chair to the hearth, and get your breath, now.'

Merenor bowed and set off at a brisk bustle, agog with curiosity and aware that he wasn't going to find anything more about this mysterious errand until Faerveren was present… and even then he might have to do a little wheedling to be in on the action…

As he had hoped, Merenor found Faerveren in the guest wing being talked at by the housekeeper who seemed a little flustered.

'My apologies for interrupting,' Merenor said, his winning smile in place and fixating the housekeeper in its brightness, 'but I need Master Faerveren on a matter of urgency. So, I will have to steal him away…'

'But we were talking about accommodations, and…'

'Master Merenor,' Faerveren said, cutting across the housekeeper. 'You know what is required of the lodgings for our four guests; if you will assist good Mistress Lhéves, and give me some notion of this emergency…?'

'Yes, Master Faerveren.' Merenor twinkled; it was always odd, using their formal titles, and Faerveren did sometimes forget, and call him Daerada, but since this was officially official, he was careful to stick to protocols. 'There is a messenger arrived, one Captain Lagorion, in guard company garb, and he brings despatches to hand over only to you. Poor lad looked frozen, so…'

'Thank you, then. The Palace Office? I will attend directly, if you will assist here.'

Faerveren tipped his head and made a swift exit, and Merenor wondered what the housekeeper had been complaining about… well, he'd soon know. A pity; it would mean he wouldn't be in a position to eavesdrop about the mysterious missives, but no doubt he would find out sooner or later…

'Ah, good Mistress Lhéves,' he said in his kindest manner. 'Is there a problem I can help with…?'

Faerveren bowed to his visitors from the doorway and spread his hands in welcome. 'Commander Triwathon, it is good to see you… and my greetings, Captain Lagorion; I am sorry I was not here, you have a message, I think?'

'Under the Grand Seal of his majesty, Thranduil, Elvenking of Erin Lasgalen.' Lagorion rose from his seat and bowed, hand over his heart, before opening the documents bag. 'Entrusted to my care and for delivery into your care only.'

'Thank you, Captain. I acknowledge receipt of the documents…' Faerveren opened the bag, took out a large envelope, cracked the seal to reveal a further four separately sealed documents, all fastened with the wax seal of the king. 'And I am grateful… Commander, I assume you are happy to witness the handover went as his majesty ordered?'

'I am so, Master Faerveren.'

'Good, then thank you, I am grateful for your assistance. Captain Lagorion, does his majesty require an immediate response?'

'No, Master Faerveren.'

'Excellent, then you can stand down, and ask at the kitchens for something better for you than emergency spirits – there was winterstew at the day meal, that will warm you up…'

'In fact, Master Faerveren, I am very happy with the emergency spirits.' Lagorion smiled. 'Something you should be aware of, though; there may be a complaint…'

'Oh?' Faerveren pulled a chair across, indicated the courier to sit again. 'Continue, please?'

'My orders were to arrive before the Imladris elves, and to avoid contact if at all possible; I did not leave until the middle of the day after they set out, so I knew if I found them, it would be within a few hours of my destination. I ran the canopy much of the journey, and had word from the trees there was company ahead. I thought I could keep clear, but they'd stopped, and so the guards were on point, of course, and so I was hailed.'

Lagorion paused to sip at his emergency restorative.

'It is good to know our guards are alert, at least,' Faerveren said. 'Although perhaps the gossip of the trees ran in both directions.'

'Yes, I would like to think that. They had paused to fettle their wagons – there is some snow and adjustments had to be made to the wheels – about three hours out from here, I made better time than I thought. Well, to continue… Master Melion is part of the group – I am not sure if you knew to expect him? He offered to deliver the documents, and was most displeased when I refused to hand them over.'

'Master Melion is currently Elf-in-Charge at the Old Palace…'

'He said as much, although, in strict fact, he is Joint-Elf-in-Charge, so the king says. Of course, while I recognise Master Melion's authority in the Old Palace, the king's direct orders take precedent, and it was so strongly stressed upon me that the delivery of the missives must precede the arrival of the company…'

'You have acted entirely appropriately,' Faerveren said. 'And I am grateful to you. Take as much time to rest as you wish before you return; the wagons will go back in two days or three, so unless you are expected in haste, you look as if you deserve a little breathing space. You are very welcome to stay until then.'

'Thank you, Master Faerveren.' Lagorion finished his drink and set down the glass. 'I will leave you to your letters now.'

He rose and headed for the door. Faerveren looked over at Commander Triwathon.

'Thank you, Commander. I am grateful for your time, I know you are busy.'

'I was wondering whether there might be anything in those letters that might need the Garrison's aid…?'

'Not that I can see. Surely if there were, it would be under separate cover, Captain Lagorion being a guard courier rather than a King's Office appointed messenger. But do not worry; if the news is something I am able to share, I will mention it at our evening meeting before supper.'

Triwathon gave a small, rueful smile.

'Yes. I do admire your optimism; we are in expectation of a wagon-load of elves, and you think there will still be time for a meeting?'

'That is an excellent point! We had better meet earlier, then. Well, since our visitors are three hours away, I shall come to you in two hours, if that is helpful.'

'But… very well. Two hours it is.'

Alone with the documents, Faerveren went to his office and sat behind the desk, spreading the envelopes out before him. One each for Masters Hanben, Merenor, and Melion as well as a somewhat lager document with his own name on.

'Someone has been busy!' he murmured, thinking aloud. 'And one for Ada, too!'

He opened the letter addressed to him, recognising Master Parvon's finest formal hand on the topmost sheet…

'From His Majesty, Thranduil, Elvenking

'To

'Faerveren, Elf-in-Charge, Office of the New Palace,

'Greetings

'Whereas it has come to our attention that the excellent manner in which you have administered your post is marked upon often, and whereas the King's Office currently is in need of such administration, it is our command that you return hence with the next convoy to take up new duties as Joint-Elf-In-Charge of the King's Office, a post you will hold along with Master Parvon.
'Separate arrangements have been made with regard to a proper substitute for the post of Elf-in-Charge of the New Palace administration.

'Thranduil, Elvenking'

Faerveren squeaked in a most un-Chief-Elflike manner. He read through twice more, then folded the pages back up and sat staring at his hands; the rest of the document was simply too much to even consider yet.
Joint-Elf-in-Charge. At the Old Palace. With Master Parvon, it was… it was wonderful, terrifying, unexpected and… yes, slightly worrying. And much too much news to bear alone, he had to find someone to talk to…

What was more, he needed a hug.

Locking the other letters away in his desk, he left the office and went in search of Merenor.