Melion glowered at Triwathon.

'That rather depends on whether or not you classify a missing dignitary as an emergency!' he said. 'Lord Celeborn is lost in the woods!'

'How in the name of all the Valar did you manage to lose him?'

Triwathon was already moving as he spoke, reaching for his cloak, his bow and quiver.

'I did not… it was not my fault!'

'Tell me. And walk as you talk.'

By the time Triwathon had summoned his guards to the muster point and they had assembled, he had a better idea of what had happened, thanks to the more coherent account of the elf who had escorted Melion back to the New Palace. Triwathon summarised for his warriors.

'As some of you know, earlier this morning, our guests Lords Celeborn and Elladan went to inspect the damage done to the forest, and the villages, in the dragon attack. It was a distressing experience, particularly for Lord Celeborn whose ties to his forests are as deep as ours to Eryn Lasgalen. The company stopped at one of the memorials to pay their respects, standing with bowed heads and hands on hearts. When the observance was done, and everyone looked up, Lord Celeborn was no longer with the group. The forest is not responding to queries as to his whereabouts; this does not mean the trees are necessarily complicit in his disappearance, rather they are sleepy, they are slow, and they are mostly young. Thus we need search parties to head out towards the memorials, to the three villages, to circle the outer trails, and to cover as much of the forest as possible. Duty captain will sort you into trios.'

Triwathon waited for a moment as the company assimilated this.

'One thing more,' he continued, when they were ready. 'Lord Celeborn has but lately recovered from illness. He may be disoriented, perhaps confused. But he has done nothing wrong, he is merely lost, separated from his friends, who are anxious for his welfare. Please bear this in mind should you find him; speak gently, and two of you remain with him while the third reports in. That's all.'

He stepped back, beckoning to Melion.

'Come, then. Show me where.'

'But could not my escort…?'

'No, he's more use in the search parties. Now, let's waste no more time, Master Melion.'

'I am the Elf-in-Charge! My place, in an emergency, is here!'

Triwathon shook his head, exhaling heavily.

'When the dragons attacked,' he said, 'in the middle of the night, Master Parvon joined the sortie against them. When there is an emergency, Palace Office and Palace Garrison work together. Now, we've wasted enough time! Lead on!'

Elladan and one of the escort guards were waiting at the memorial cairn where Celeborn had last been seen; the other two, and Captain Hannith, were already searching the forest.

'In a sunwise spiral pattern, sir,' the escort added.

'Good, thank you. Had you been to the villages?' Triwathon asked Elladan.

'We'd been to Beech Tree Village, where my brother's honour-kin lived. It was… heart-breaking. Grandfather was distraught, the forest speaks strongly to him, I can only imagine…'

'We'll find him, never fear. From there?'

'Rather than go through the forest – it looked so sad – we returned here and decided to spend a few moments thinking about those lost before going on to the next place. It was… yes, it was hard. But they're free, now. We were… looking inwards, if you understand, not seeing what was taking place around us… then, once we had finished, I looked for Grandfather and he was no longer here.'

Triwathon clasped Elladan's shoulder for a moment in sympathy.

'Do you feel able to come with me? That way, if we find him, you will be a reassuring friend.'

'Yes, I can do that.'

'What about me?' Melion asked. 'Did you drag me all the way out here just to dance attendance on you?'

'No; in fact, I had thought you would be rather more use to me than you have. No matter, you can return to the New Palace and ask Healer Maereth to come, and see if Masters Lindir and Melpomaen will join her, perhaps in one of the narrow carts.'

'That's a good idea,' Elladan said. 'Tell Lindir to bring his harp; he used to play for Grandfather by the hour at home, when he wasn't himself. It soothed him.'

'Good. Thank you, Master Melion; the guard will go with you.' Triwathon turned his back on the new Elf-in-Chief and focussed on the problem at hand. 'Elladan, which way do you think he would have gone?'

In the finish, Lord Celeborn was found, but not until several hours had passed and all three villages searched to no avail. It was one of the search parties on the wider trails that first had word, and signals flew through the forest, crossing and connecting and passing on the news: Lord Celeborn had been found, sheltering in a grove of oak, but refusing to emerge. It took several more hours, much coaxing, and Lindir playing soothing melodies before Celeborn was safely restored to the care of his grandson.

Finally reaching his office long after darkness had fallen, and fully aware that any hope of asking Faerveren to take his letter to Parvon was as long gone as was Faerveren himself, Triwathon sat with bowed head for a moment.

He took a breath and lifted his gaze.

No. This was but a temporary delay, a minor set-back. He could finish his letter, go to the barracks' common room and ask for a volunteer to run the letter across to the village where the Starlight Gemstone had stopped for the night; the messenger would be there before midnight, could stay there for the night, and report back in the morning. His letter would go to Parvon.

As long as he finished it.

Pouring himself a cup of wine, he unlocked his desk drawer, took out the partially-written letter, and continued working.

'So. After all I said about not starting over, I intended to write this in one go, but an emergency intervened… and now it is over, I will continue with the story of how I was interrupted…

'Today Lords Elladan and Celeborn were escorted to the villages; Lindir and Melpomaen wished to return to the earth-cave of their friend – which is where I was, with them, when I realised how foolish I have been, but that is beside the point. This meant that Master Melion had to attend the lords with one of the other captains, although I am sure the outcome would have been the same. Somehow, Lord Celeborn was separated from his friends, and we had to empty the garrison to hunt the forest over for him! All was well, in the finish, but he is – perhaps you noticed – not a generally social elf, and seems even more reticent now. Elladan says it is the loss, firstly his wife sailing, then watching Lorien fail after Galadriel's departure, and now seeing our forest burned and suffering has caused him to pull back into himself; he was like that before, apparently, at Imladris and only recovered very recently. We wish him well, and Healer Maereth says there is nothing physically wrong with him. Certainly, the latest reports have him sitting up in bed in Mae's Healers Rooms, eating winterstew and listening to Lindir play all the old tunes he likes… he is safe, though, that is the main thing. However, he is in no fit state to travel back across the mountains as he is, so it looks as if we will have guests for the foreseeable future.

'And so, I do not know what to say now. Other than that I would dearly love to see you, Parvon, and talk to you about everything, but I do not know how it is to be arranged. Perhaps you will have some idea, or perhaps Master Melion will manage to lose himself, and we will need the most competent advisor in the forest to come and find him, which would be you, of course. I have thought about running away and hitching a ride on the wagons, but really, I think even for me that would be silly…

'It had been my intention to pass this letter to Master Faerveren or Merenor to deliver, but the wagon with them, and the Starlight Gemstone, had already left by the time I got back from searching for Lord Celeborn. I will attempt to find a courier to run to the villages – the convoy is staying there overnight, so I hope to get this to them before they leave in the morning. Thinking of the travels of the gemstone reminds me that your elves will be sailing soon, and, although it is a guess, I hope that will mean you have a little more time to read correspondence… I am guiltily aware I also owe our mutual friend Thindorion a letter, but it would have been rude to answer his first when you are so much more to me, and have waited longer for the reply to your last.

'I shall continue to hope, however, that we will be communicating – talking, writing – again soon, delay notwithstanding.

'Be well, my most dear friend,

'Triwathon'

He read back what he'd written, sighed at its inadequacies, and again for the delay, decided to hold to his original word and not start over, sealed it up, and headed for the common room, wondering what he could offer as bribe or reward for a courier…

…but when he got there, he changed his mind.

The company looked up almost as one when he entered, eyes hopeful on him even as he took in their weary poses, the sag of tired shoulders, the ache of cold in their bones; searching a fire-haunted forest where their friends and kin had died was not something these warriors should have had to do today. They needed cheering, not asking to go running through the night for the sake of their commander's love-life…

Triwathon stuffed the letter into his jerkin, and came to the head of the room.

'Everyone,' he began in clear, confident tones he didn't feel. 'I don't want to interrupt your well-earned suppers and downtime, but I didn't want the evening to pass without speaking to you. I know you will say you were just doing your jobs today, but even so, to search the forest for a lost Sinda lord is not really within your daily duties…'

He paused as a little laughter came. There were smiles around the room, though; they were tired, not dispirited.

'So, I wanted to thank you for the effort you put in, for willingly abandoning your daily duties to search for our lost guest. Although, of course, you did not all find him, you did, at least, make the search easier for those who did. Lord Celeborn is physically unharmed and his friends are with him. Thank you once more. Now, try to enjoy your evening and rest well, tonight. Our king would be proud of you all. And so, goodnight.'

And after all, Triwathon consoled himself as he headed for his private rooms, the letter was written now, with love and hope, and there would be another convoy going to the Old Palace in no more than eight days, and by then, Parvon's work with the elves who were sailing would be done, he would have more time to himself. Eight days, it was not so long, really, was it?

All would be well.