The same fine King's Office Elves were out in force next day to see Parvon off. The farewells had been private, and painful, and many, but Parvon had endured them all. One pleasant note was that Captains Canadion and Thiriston had decided to take another duty tour at Ithilien, and so formed part of the company. Canadion had promised to take special care of Parvon and his friend on the journey.

'For it is because of you that Faerveren has found his own place in his own way. I struggled, when I was young, to have my voice heard in the family, and so your support has been wonderful for him.'

And although Parvon tried to insist that his duty to Faerveren merited no special attention, he was still grateful to have almost a personal guard in the company.

They had not left the Old Palace until after the day meal, the travelling company invited to join their escort in the barracks' mess, to make sure everyone at least knew what everyone else looked like. After they had finished eating, the Over-captain got to his feet, named the duty captains for the trip – Magorion and Canadion, with Thiriston as Captain-in-Command, and announced the order of going.

'Your first march is but a half-day stroll through the forest,' he said. 'First camp will be made at the moot-circle, which is a couple of hours from the gates, or three, allowing for the non-combatants in the party. Any questions?'

Nobody seemed to have any, although from the looks on several faces, Parvon rather thought they were storing up their queries to present to him later.

'Very well. Assemble at the inner gates in one hour. We will not wait for stragglers, you will have to follow as best you can.'

'We'd better not straggle, then!' Thindorion murmured to Parvon. 'Unless you know the way?'

'Everyone knows the way to the moot-circle, I think,' Parvon replied. 'Over the bridge, down the path past the large oak, and straight on for two hours, or possibly three, apparently.'

Thindorion laughed. 'Well, just time for a last farewell to Naru, I think. See you in an hour?'

'Yes. I, too, have a last farewell to make.'

Inside his small rooms, Parvon looked round with a sinking heart. Now that it came to it, leaving seemed… difficult.

'Nevertheless,' he said aloud, and went into his sleeping area to cast his eyes over the star-scape of gems. That was another thing that seemed difficult; removing the stones. In a way, it felt that if he left them there, he would always have a home here.

And yet, if he took them with him, his home would be carried with him.

There were two gems that particularly caught his attention; a beautiful topaz that winked and caught the light like a tiny sun, and a soft and gleaming striped stone of tiger's eye which had always put him in mind of Triwathon, the variations of his hair in shade or sunlight, his eyes. These two he removed from their places and carefully stowed them in a pouch inside his tunic, leaving the rest to gleam in the darkness.

Back in his living space, he wrote a brief note to Baudh, asking him to take care of the desk, perhaps offer it to Faerveren, and propped it on the surface; Baudh had promised to look over the room once the convoy had left.

With a finality he hadn't expected to feel, Parvon removed his formal King's Office robes, folded them neatly, and stowed them in his pack; there was still room, he noted with a smile, but there was nothing else he wanted to take with him. The letters from Triwathon, absurdly precious, were already wrapped and stowed in a leather pouch inside his pack, his robes of office covered everything over, and he tied it up and slipped his coat and travelling cloak on. The pack on his back, his bow and arrow slung over, and he was ready.

Hoping to escape to the meeting point in privacy, he came up short at the outer doors to find Merlinith and Araspen, Faerveren and Baudh and Oldor waiting for him.

'We're going to walk you out,' Merlinith said. 'And I have a bottle of cordial here for you.'

'To warm you on the road,' Araspen said, and came across to hug him gently. 'You will be in our thoughts, Parvon.'

'Thank you; I really do not deserve…'

'Parvon!' Thindorion, already outside and waiting by the path to the muster-point, waved cheerfully. 'It's trying to rain, I think!'

'Well, rather that than snow,' Parvon said, taking the opportunity to cross to his friend and leave his King's Office colleagues near the doors. 'The hour is almost up; we should hasten.'

Joining the rest at the muster point, Parvon found his anxiety mounting as the company waited for the order to open the gates and set out. Finally, the command came, the wagon led the way with its four escort elves, half the warriors behind, then the elves with their packs and their elflings were ushered into line. Parvon took a place as close to the rear as he could, Thindorion by his side, but the Over-captain noticed and called him forward.

'You should lead,' he said. 'You carry the Starlight Gemstone of the fallen hero, its place matters, even if you think your own does not.'

'Alone?' Parvon shook his head. 'Impossible!'

'Captain Canadion will march at your side,' the Over-captain said. 'Once over the bridge, we can change our order of going, but not until then.

'I am grateful.' Parvon bowed. 'And ready, if you are, Captain Canadion…?'

The gates swung open, and the company set off, Parvon and Canadion leading, the captain good-naturedly offering encouragement.

'You know the way, of course, the path leads to the outer courtyard and then we will march past the front gates and… oh, my, there are a lot of people come to see everyone off!'

There were indeed; it seemed to Parvon as if the entire Old Palace had emptied. The King's Office elves were to the fore, flanked by the Healers in their blue robes, and – most surprising of all to Parvon's mind – the king himself standing solemn and tall at the doors. Old habit taking over, Parvon halted and bowed to his king. Canadion caught the pause and halted in time with a gesture behind him that stopped the rest of the company so that it seemed a planned courtesy. The king inclined his head in turn, and with a lazy, soft gesture, waved them onwards.

A sharp order from behind, and they moved off in the increasing rain, along the path past the waiting elves. Some murmured farewells, but most were silent, aware of the significance of Silvans willing to sail, aware of the loss and fear that had driven some of them to the decision.

Parvon hoped none of those watching realised in full what drove his own choice.

Over the bridge and into the welcome shelter of the trees; shadow and protection from the rain. Around a curve of the path, and Captain Thiriston called the halt; Over-Captain Daerdorion's responsibilities had ended at the bridge crossing.

'All right! Order of going… First Company, to the fore. Non-combatants in the central column. Second company, rearguard, and give us a chorus to set a steady pace!'

Under cover of a refrain of 'Heroes Setting Out,' Parvon fell back to the rear of the civilians where Thindorion awaited him.

'You know, Parvon,' he said quietly. 'Hoods are wonderful things. With the hood up, the wearer's face is hidden; not only does a hood protect from the rain, but it hides tears.'

'Ah, but as it is, everyone will just think it is the rain,' Parvon replied. 'Which, in fact, it is. There are no tears, not yet.'

'Speak for yourself!' the dyer said, and pulled up his hood to hide his face.

Parvon clasped his shoulder for a moment.

'This is a solemn moment,' he said into the rain. 'It would be wrong, I think, not to be moved by the import of what we are doing. Come, my friend. Console yourself with the thought that at any moment you can change your mind. There is an irony, if you think; having given my word to the king, I am honour-bound to go all the way to Ithilien. But the first stage is simply a walk in the rain like any other.'

Simply a walk in the rain.

In truth, it was not unpleasant. Once around the turn of the path, the shelter of the trees drew close around them, blocking much of the rain. Parvon lifted his face and looked to the sky, welcoming the occasional drops that found their way through. The forest here was secure, safe, the trees strong and ancient, their slow song all but inaudible this deep into winter. They had never, to his knowledge, been touched by flame, escaping the terrors of the Battle under the Trees.

He thought of the trees in the forests around the New Palace, how scorched and sad and damaged many of them were, and that led him on to thoughts of Triwathon, and… and no, now he needed his hood up, there was rain from somewhere, surely…

'You, too?' Thindorion bumped shoulders against his friend. 'Damned rain. It'll stop soon, I think.'

'I'm sure it will,' Parvon said softly. 'But I am not entirely sure it should.'

It was more than two hours, yet somewhat less than three, when the company turned off into a side trail that led to a glade where Captain Thiriston called a halt. He gave swift orders to his command and they moved to make camp; tending the horses, setting up cook fires, erecting shelters.

'Walkers, gather round!' the captain called, clapping his hands and gesturing them to come closer. 'Well, we're here! Time for a few rules. The escort will be responsible for setting up camp, providing an evening meal, and stowing tents and bedrolls in the morning. Each set is numbered; if you're fussy about keeping the same ones, make a note of the number and give it to Captain Magorion; he will keep a list. If you want your own fires, that's fine. You find your own day meals and breakfasts. We'll have a couple of easy days to start with…'

'Wait, wait!' One of the company interrupted. 'Our own meals? We didn't know! Master Parvon, what is going on?'

'Careful,' Thindo murmured. 'You might find yourself roped in here…'

'Yes, I was afraid this could happen…' Parvon stepped forward and bowed to the captain. 'Captain Thiriston, would it be helpful if I explained…?'

'Go on,' Thiriston said, his voice growing gruffer. 'Be interested to hear what you've got to say…'

'Thank you, Captain. Please forgive these elves, they have forgotten they ought not interrupt you.' He turned to address the elves. 'Walkers. It is good name. Very well. You were told – you were all told – of the intended running of the camp. It is very good of the Captain to set his warriors to sorting out our shelters and a hot meal for us each day; on the notice boards for the sailing elves, in your information packs you were told you would need to provide your own food, and I know I have told you myself more than once. There are emergency supplies, but that is all, and the forgetfulness of elves is not an emergency. I suggest some of you think about hunting and foraging; there is still food to be found in the forest at this time of year. Do not forget that were you not travelling under the protection of the company, you would be doing everything for yourselves. I should add that I am not responsible for you – for any of you – any longer. I am here as escort for the Starlight Gemstone, and not to sort out your problems! Captain Thiriston is in charge and you would do well to follow his instructions. Captain, thank you. I am grateful.'

'But, Master Parvon, you cannot just…'

'Think you'll find he can,' Thiriston said loudly. 'If he weren't here, what would you do, eh? Just pretend he isn't part of the company, think about that. Now. Food in an hour. Until then, yes. Go and forage or hunt or something. Parvon, when you've a minute, could I have a word?'

'Of course, Captain.'

'Bring your pack. No, give it here. I'll take it.'

He shrugged out of his backpack and followed the big elf across the clearing and paused as he realised Thiriston was about to climb one of the trees on the outskirts of the glad.

'Flet,' the big elf said. 'That all right?'

'Yes, of course.'

'After you.'

It was a courtesy Parvon would have been happy to forego; it had been a while since he climbed a tree. He laid his hand on the bark and sent his greeting in, announced his intention, trying to learn its habit before he began the ascent and heard a chuckle behind him.

'Canadion's up there waiting. Stand back, he's throwing a ladder down.'

'Oh. Thank you.'

A word of warning in the soft, lilting voice of Captain Canadion, and a bundle of rope ladder unfurled, dancing before Parvon's eyes.

'On my way,' he called up, and ascended into the tree.

Already a shelter had been erected, an awning more than a tent, but which would fold down if needed. Inside was a bedroll and a small trunk to serve as a seat. Around the flet, light barriers of woven grasses provided some protection from the wind and served as a reminder not to fall off.

'Sit you, Master Parvon,' Canadion said. 'Be comfortable.'

'Thank you.'

Thiriston arrived as Parvon was settling.

'To the point,' the captain said. 'Not your fault the Walkers look to you. Don't give in to them, that's my advice. You'll never be done. So. Thought you might like a flet to sleep on. Keep you away from the rabble.'

'That's… very kind of you.'

'Now, there is room for your friend's tent as well,' Canadion put in. 'But that would cause talk, and you might not want that. Thiriston and I thought that we could argue you are here for the proper safety of the Starlight Gemstone, or something like that, and then you would get a bit of peace. Which really only works as a reason if you are alone up here.'

'That's very…' Parvon shook his head, smiling. 'To be honest, I thought you'd invited me up here to try to give me a polite scold on behalf of the Walkers, as you name them, Captain Thiriston. Nor would I blame you; discipline must be maintained, but they were repeatedly told they would need to source their own supplies.'

'Probably argue they don't have room for them.' Captain Thiriston grinned. 'Well? This do for you?'

'I think it will do very well,' Parvon said. 'I had not expected such an honour…'

'Well, you've been kind to our Faerveren,' Thiriston said. 'Counts for a lot with my Canadion.'

'There will be a call to supper when it's ready,' Canadion said. 'And while you wait, you might like to look in the trunk you're sitting on. Baudh asked me to bring it for you, a gift from your friends in the King's Office.'

'How kind!' Parvon sighed, smiling at the same time. 'I really neither deserve, nor expected such a courtesy. But you will tell Baudh I am grateful. I shall write to him from Ithilien…' He paused, realising he'd almost slipped up, decided to confide in these two captains who were also his friends. 'I need to tell you, in confidence, that…'

'That you are not intending to return to the Old Palace and so won't be able to thank him in person,' Canadion added softly. 'Faerveren mentioned it. But only to us, and we will not say anything.'

'Magorion's taking personal charge of your camp,' Thiriston continued. 'Including the trunk, so if there's anything you want to stow, save you carrying…'

'I am grateful. But I don't have much, really, I am sure I can manage. And if I had no pack at all, that would alienate me further from the Walkers.'

'Fair enough. Well. See you at supper, Master Parvon.'

Alone, Parvon drew up the ladder after the captains and touched the central trunk of the tree, trying to learn it a little better. It was a hornbeam with beautiful bark and a fine, exuberant habit, its interlacing branches and twigs arching away from the trunk and making up for its current lack of leaves with the elegance of its growth. It was, however, quite sleepy, so Parvon decided not to bother it and instead went to look at what his kind friends had sent for him.

In the trunk, he found a bottle of blackcurrant cordial from Merlinith and Araspen, (as if the one they'd given him at the gates was not enough!) a pack of honey cakes from Merenor, a small flask of lavender oil with a note from Healer Nestoril saying it would soothe tired muscles if his backpack chafed, a very nice set of writing materials from Faerveren '…and the rest of your Friends in the King's Office,' the accompanying message said.

It was a kind thought when, really, he did not want to dwell on the kindness of those he'd left behind. He lay back on his bedroll and looked up through the branches at the gathering dusk until the call came for supper.

As he dropped his ladder down, he saw a lantern bobbing at the base of the tree.

'I am Corcthel, Master Parvon,' an elleth of the guard called up. 'I have light for you.'

'Thank you, Captain Corcthel,' he called. 'I am descending.'

Thindo was waiting with the captain, and took charge of the lantern as she bowed and left.

'I'm pitched over with some of the other bad shots from archery practice,' he said cheerfully. 'We offered to go hunting in the morning, but the rest said we'd do better to forage for nuts. Come on, I'm hungry tonight. I suppose you've got a month's rations in your pack, have you?'

'No, just two weeks' worth. You had no room, I take it?'

'Just a couple of packs of waybread. More than some have brought, silly fellows. So you're on a flet? Lucky chap.'

'It's to keep me away from the rest of the company,' Parvon said. 'I think it is meant as a kindness.'

He began to really appreciate the courtesy later, around the communal cook fire trying to eat his supper in peace. The fare was more than adequate; hot soup, brought in jars from the Old Palace, bread and cheese, but his meal was constantly interrupted with one elf after another taking the opportunity to '…just mention, we don't know what we'll do about meals tomorrow…' or to express their anxiety that '…the shelters will not be warm enough for the elflings…'

'You have my sympathy,' Parvon answered. 'But short of offering to join the hunting or foraging parties, I cannot help…' or pointed out that he could not control the weather and everyone knew that it would be cold, and had been warned to prepare accordingly.

And 'You need to speak to the captain about it,' he was told at the end of every complaint.

'No, I do not,' he replied calmly. 'Since it is you who are bothered, it is you who must say so. Now, if you please, I would like to eat.'

Eventually, he managed to finish his meal, and as if the moment served as some sort of signal, Thiriston got to his feet.

'Everyone,' he began. 'Just to clear up a few points. Leave Master Parvon alone, he isn't here to help you, he's here to honour the fallen Hero of Gondolin's gemstone. So. Any problems, see me, or Canadion, or Magorion. Now. Short march today, give you a chance to realise what you've signed on for. We'll be walking for six hours tomorrow, working up to eight hour days as we go on. Long way to go. If you don't like it, if you think it's too far, you don't have to carry on. Send an escort tomorrow with anyone who wants to go home, as far as the perimeter an hour out, and send word on to the palace to expect you back. Just let one of us captains know in the morning. That's one of us, not, Master Parvon. All got that?'

Around the fire, heads nodded.

'No doubt they'll forget by morning,' Parvon murmured to Thindorion. 'I wish them luck if they try seeking me, however; I intend to stay on my flet and eat honey cakes for breakfast.'

Thindorion gaped at him.

'Hark at you! Lembas not good enough, Master Parvon?'

'A gift from kind friends in the King's Office. I'll save some to share, never fear.'

Morning brought more rain, heavy and chill, and when Parvon descended from his flet, he found a little cluster of elves gathered mournfully around the tree trunk.

'Good morning,' he said politely. 'I am on my way to seek my friend, but if there is anything you need help with…'

'We came to say goodbye, Master Parvon,' one said. 'We've decided to go back.'

An elleth lifted her elfling into a more comfortable place on her hip. 'It was a mistake for me to think now a good time,' she said. 'Perhaps the next ship, if one goes in warmer weather. Or in a few decades, when my little one is older. But I wanted to thank you, Master Parvon, for your patience with us and your help.'

'Our escort is waiting,' another said. 'So, farewell.'

They turned away, the couple with the elflings and two other elves. Parvon waited for them to leave the glade, then went in search of Thindo.

'Honey cakes for breakfast,' he said. 'And then we walk, I suppose. Just another walk in the rain.'

Thindorion accepted a honey cake with a smile.

'It sounds as good a plan as any,' he said.