Parvon walked away from Thiriston, aware the captain was staring after him, gaping; he hid a smile. Yes, it was good that Triw had helpful friends, but any conversation about sailing – or not – would be between him and his fëa-mate, without the filter of friends possibly misinterpreting.

Belatedly he realised he ought not have told Canadion he still intended sailing; it had been an almost automatic reiteration, and could he now go back and unsay it, he would… but really, his intentions to sail were now predicated on Triwathon discovering he did not, actually, love Parvon after all, in which case the only way either of them could escape a difficult situation would be by one or other of them taking ship.

…him, if either of them, of course it would be him. Triw didn't want to sail.

Triw had never wanted to sail…

…and Parvon felt guilty and terrible and cruel for not capitulating immediately, because of course he would never make Triwathon sail, if he didn't want to. He wouldn't make Triw do anything he didn't want to…

…but it would be nice to be able to think Triw might be prepared to sail, for him, just as he would be prepared to stay, for Triw…

…only it seemed Triw now felt Parvon didn't really love him, perhaps, because he was insisting on short vows, which he was only doing for Triw's sake…

Parvon tried not to sigh. It was a difficult situation and he had put himself in it, and would have to get himself out of it, preferably without hurting Triw's feelings further.

Briefly he wondered if this was what love was about, putting someone else's wellbeing before your own, and still managing to hurt them. Surely there must be more to it than that?

He continued on, looking for somewhere relatively private where he could change out of his basic travelling clothes into something a little closer to celebratory garments; limited though his wardrobe was, he did have a better shirt and a nice tunic in his pack.

A friendly beech beckoned; it was far enough from the camp that he shouldn't be disturbed, close enough so he wouldn't lose himself, and he slipped behind it, took a few things from his pack and shook them out to remove the worst of the creases. Satisfied with the results – as much as he could be, at least, but then, Triw had packed in haste, so he gathered, and might be even less prepared – he stripped off his travelling cloak and shirt and dressed again in his better garments. As an afterthought, he added his formal King's Office robes over the top, bundled everything else into his pack, and returned to the camp.

Aromas from the cookfires swirled out across the camp and people were beginning to gather around the fires.

'You're looking very formal tonight, Master Parvon!' Mistress Cullasbes said as he passed nearby. 'Does this mean you're working again, at last?'

'Not as such, Mistress Cullasbes; that is to say, I am still working, of course; I am the official King's Office escort for the Starlight Gemstone, as you know. It is more that I wish to address the company after we have eaten, and formal robes fits the situation better than travelling garb.'

'Oh, I see. So you would not be interested to hear about the issues I have with some of the other travellers?'

'Not at all, Mistress Cullasbes,' Parvon replied with a smile and a bow, deliberately choosing a phrase to which she could not possibly take exception, but which stated his truth perfectly; he really was not at all interested in her issues. 'Good evening to you.'

Triwathon, approaching from the warriors' area of the camp, came into view. Parvon was already watching him when he himself was seen; Triw's demeanour changed, he burst into a smile and walked taller, straighter, and generally looked much happier than he had but a few seconds before. It was humbling, it was charming, it was… wonderful, and Parvon found himself smiling as he lifted a hand to wave and hastened his pace.

'Hello!' Triw said, reaching out, then hesitating. 'Ah, I want to hug you, but the robes of office are so forbidding…!'

Parvon laughed. 'You may hug me, robes notwithstanding. If… if you wish. It is…' He broke off as Triw took him up on his offer, cuddling softly against him, arms strong around him. 'Triw, it is difficult for me, all this affection, I have not been used to it. Not… not since my brother, really, was there any familial affection, and…'

'Oh, hush! I am hugging you, and if you do not like it, well, you will have to adapt. I love how it feels to hold you in my arms… but I suppose everyone is staring, and you are a private person, it is one of the things I love about you.' Triw released him. 'But so, I have let you go. Although I will take your hand, and lead you off to the feast.'

'Feast?' Parvon asked, allowing his hand to be taken.

'Well, as close to one as our good cooks can muster, they assure me, in your honour. What do you usually have at supper time?'

'It depends. Quite often it is known as Hopeful Stew – because we are all hopeful, until it arrives, and then we remember there is always lembas.'

Triwathon laughed.

'Ah, whatever they serve will be a feast indeed, now we are together again.'

Before they could find seats around the fire, Thiriston waved them over to where the escort company were arranged.

'Come and sit with us, Master Parvon, you and Commander Triwathon; we have saved the best seats for you!'

The food, when it came, was the best that could be served, but, in truth, Parvon could have been eating tree bark and grass and it would have seemed a feast. There was wine, Parvon thought, although it could have been water for all he cared, and there was venison, but mostly there was the thrilling touch of Triwathon's hand on his arm, the warmth of Triw's skin when Parvon brushed his fingers, there was the jolt and jump of his senses when Triwathon smiled at him, or spoke low words in his ear, his breath heated and enticing… Parvon drifted through the meal, only dimly aware of anything that was not Triwathon…

'Parvon? Master Parvon?'

Canadion's friendly voice, laughing, broke in on him.

'Yes, Captain?' he said, smiling swiftly and pretending he had not been distracted by the play of firelight on Triw's glorious hair… 'Did you speak?'

'Just to say, if you are finished here, I have chosen a lovely spot for you, and your Witness has send word that all is in readiness, when you are.'

'I am ready,' Triw said swiftly. 'I have never been more ready for anything!'

Parvon laughed and rose to his feet. 'As am I. But I was going to speak to our fellow-travellers first.'

'And you will need to change, of course,' Canadion said. 'You really cannot take vows dressed as a crow, Master Parvon!'

Making his way to a point between the escort's camp and the Walkers' chosen eating area, Parvon clapped his hands for attention and smiled at Triw, who had followed and now waited at a little distance.

'Everyone!' he said. 'I have an announcement, if you will permit me.'

He waited for them to settle, to look towards him and across to Triw with curious eyes.

'Some of you may have noticed we have a new member of the company; Commander Triwathon, formerly in charge of the garrison at the New Palace, has joined us on our journey and… I am delighted to say that we are taking vows together…'

From where he watched, Triwathon took in a sharp breath of surprise. The wording - not, 'he is taking vows with me', nor 'I am taking vows with him', was wonderful, it was Parvon saying, we are together in this, you and I, equals…

'…And so, if any of you would like to share this evening with us, this particular event in our lives, we would be more than happy to welcome you to our ritual. Captain Canadion will tell you where… after he has told us, that is.' Parvon paused for smiles, but only met with astonishment. Well. Perhaps it was a shock to them; after all, it had been rather a shock to him when Triw had landed at his feet… 'I am only sorry that we cannot feast you nor provide you with wine to celebrate the occasion. Perhaps, when we reach Ithilien, we may celebrate more fully. But for tonight, it is Triw and I and our Witness, and the stars as we exchange our vows.'

The escort company gave a shout, applauded, and some of the Walkers did the same, but one or two sniffed and shrugged. As the cheers subsided, one of the elleth was caught in mid-sentence, grumbling to her friend…. 'I don't know, this is why we are sailing, things are so different since the War, if my elflings was to see anything upsetting because of this… marriage…'

Parvon took a breath, Triwathon stepped forward, took his hand, but it was Thiriston diffused the sudden air of tension with a large guffaw.

'Married quarters for newlyweds are on a flet to give them privacy from the rest of us,' he said loudly. 'If your elfling sees anything, well, first, what's he doing in other people's tents and second, what kind of a mother are you that you don't keep an eye on him, eh? Come, Master Parvon, Commander Triwathon. Follow me.'

Smiling to himself, Parvon did as he was bid, Triw keeping hold of his hand as they moved off. The captain led the way to an area beyond the camp where the trees either side of the path had been, somewhat improbably, swagged with bunting in a range of bright colours.

'That… I recognise those colours,' Parvon said. 'Most inventive, but…'

'My Canadion's idea, can't have a wedding without bunting, he says, and good Master Thindorion let him raid his samples bag,' Thiriston said. 'He wants them back after, but it's a good way to display the colours, don't you think?'

'It is… very bright, and I am flattered that Canadion has gone to such trouble for us,' Parvon said with care; Triw was looking surprisingly moved by the detail of the bunting and it was perhaps kept private that Parvon thought Thindo's samples would have been better left in his pack… 'I – we, we are grateful.'

'Canadion will be glad to hear it,' Thiriston said. 'Now, Master Parvon, here's a pavilion for you so you can change in private, and Commander Triwathon, you're to come with me, Canadion has a similar place waiting for you. Master Parvon, I'll be back in a few moments.'

Would he so?

Parvon nodded and smiled and reluctantly released Triw's hand with a squeeze of his fingers; he was rapidly growing used to the comfort of the contact – and ducked into the pavilion to disrobe and fold his formal robes of office to reveal the soft green tunic and cream shirt beneath. The armband with its Tiger's Eye centrepiece he folded with care and stowed it tenderly into his tunic pocket, hoping Triw would like it…

…and he was ready.

Triwathon found himself greeted by Canadion and led into a shelter just a few minutes away from where he'd left his beloved.

'Knowing you left in haste, and probably did not think to pick up any wedding clothes, I have looked in the stores and found we are carrying several formal uniforms with us,' Canadion began. 'Including the regulation kilts, and knowing how impressed others have been when you wore your ceremonial garb, I brought one for you to borrow, if you wish?'

Triw hesitated. It was true, he had worn the kilt and been much admired… but mostly, he was remembered for the elf who had gifted a kilt to the Balrog-Slayer, and it would be too much a reminder for Parvon, perhaps, if this kind offer were accepted…

He shook his head, smiling.

'It's true, I ran off with barely a change of clothes, but it does not matter; if Parvon will take vows with me, what I wear will not change his mind, I hope.'

Canadion nodded as if this was wise and, uninvited, sat down, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees.

'I remember my wedding,' he said, with a happy sigh. 'It was wonderful…'

'We all remember your wedding,' Triwathon said. 'What I remember most was your father flirting with me… and then trying to pair me off with… with Parvon…. To be fair, he'd flirted with him as well…'

Canadion laughed. 'Ah, Ada! It was the first time I'd seen him in ages! It was lovely to meet up again and find him so glad for me. But what I was going to say, was…'

A pause, and Triw found himself wondering if Canadion had been sent to offer helpful advice as well as spare kilts. He tried to make things easier.

'If you're about to mention that Parvon hasn't got the same sort of past as I do, and I need to watch myself, you don't need to worry… I know what goes where and when and how not to be awkward about it…'

'Oh. Oh, dear! No, of course you do, and I didn't… I wasn't… but since you mention the word 'advice', there is something I think I ought to say…'

Parvon waited outside his pavilion, breathing the chill night air. Above, through the skeletal branches of the trees, the sky was blue-black, punctuated with diamond stars. Here and there one glowed with a hint of red, an aura of blue, a sheen of gold.

Thiriston returned.

'Seems Canadion wanted a bit of a chat to your Triwathon,' he said. 'Done now, didn't take as long as we thought it might, so…'

The big captain finished with a shrug; Parvon carefully didn't comment but nodded.

'I think Canadion might find Triwathon to be well-versed in marriage protocol,' he said. 'After all, he has attended several avowing ceremonies.'

Thiriston cleared his throat. 'True, yes. Ah… so, here they come. Canadion, let's you and me go and show the rest where to come. Let these two find their own way.'

The captains departed, leaving Triw and Parvon looking at each other across the path. There was a soft silence for a moment or two, then Triwathon smiled.

'You're wearing your favourite tunic,' he said. 'And is that your good shirt?'

Parvon smiled back. 'Only the best for you, love,' he said. 'And you look perfect.'

'I am in my travelling clothes, I have no others, I didn't stop to pack, I just… ran… Canadion had found me some things from stores, a kilt. New, an unworn kilt, but I thought… no.'

'That's what I mean. Perfect, Triwathon. You, just you, as you are.' Parvon closed the gap between them, took his beloved's hands. 'Now, are you ready for this?'

'I am, but I just wanted to say something first, Parvon, I… I do love you. And if I seemed… ungrateful to take short vows, I am sorry.' Triw closed his eyes, a suspicion of tears hiding beneath his lids. 'It felt almost that you did not trust my word when I said I love you. But I was being foolish, I see that now…'

Parvon squeezed his fingers, his voice kind as he replied.

'I hope Canadion wasn't intruding too much? I am sure he and Thiriston mean well – I know they do, so I forgave Thiriston the liberties he took – but Triw, are you all right? He didn't upset you?'

'He made me think. He said that once, he nearly lost his Thiriston because he did what he thought he wanted, but it wasn't… and Thiriston was doing what he thought was best for Canadion, so they almost lost each other. But then they realised, and all was well. So I think… I think you want short vows not for you, but for me, for my sake? Only… you are my always now, Parvon. But then, it will be nice to have a full celebration later, won't it?'

'Yes, Triwathon, it will, it will be perfect. And you could even wear a kilt, if you wanted. As long as it was your own.'

Triw gave a laugh which held something of a sob in it somewhere. Parvon released his hands, turned towards the path with a smile.

'Come. I think if we follow the bunting, we'll find our Witness at the other end.'

Reaching the end of the lines of bunting, lanterns marked place where their vows would be made. A torch fixed against a tree trunk cast light, but cast a deeper shadow where a hooded figure waited. As Parvon and Triw approached, the figure stepped out of the shadow and cast back the hood.

'Welcome my friends,' he said.

Triw gasped. 'Thindorion! Is it you? Parvon, did you ask…? Oh, this is beyond wondrous…!'

'You are glad, I hope, Little-Elking?' Thindo asked, smiling as he greeted them. 'Because how could I refuse when Master Parvon said he thought you would like it…?'

'I am, I am most glad! Parvon, thank you… this is better than anything, I thought it might have been Thiriston, or someone and…'

'One question,' Parvon began, smiling more than he ever thought possible. 'What's this? 'Little-Elkling'…?'

'Ah, it is an old name, from when I was young and silly and… I am surprised Thindorion has not told you already!'

'We did have other things to discuss than you, Elkling!' Thindorion said with a laugh. 'Now, if you permit, I will tell the tale to Master Parvon later. For the moment, come, stand here, and wait for your guests to arrive.'

The time stretched out, long beyond Parvon's expectations, for there were not really that many people here who would consider themselves his friend, and while Triw could claim all the guard as such to some degree or other, even so, it ought not take this long for them to gather and find their places…

Finally, Thindo lifted his head and spoke.

'Friends – and so many friends, it is wonderful to see everyone gathered here, elflings included, as we Witness the vows of our friends Parvon and Triwathon.' He paused, bringing his attention back to the two elves in front of him. 'So, Parvon, Triwathon, in the sight of our friends, under the bright stars, surrounded by our trees and in sight of Lord Eru Ilúvatar who sees all, speak your vows before us all.' He lowered his voice. 'You do have vows, I hope?'

Parvon blinked; of course he had vows, he…

…had been so busy worrying about making a proper token that he'd not given thought to vows…

'Parvon,' Triwathon turned towards him. 'I will love you forever. But we live in uncertain times, and so, with that in mind, I will vow myself to you, entirely to you, but lest the world be unkind, if death or ships should sunder us, then let our vows fall into abeyance, in sight of our bright stars and all the Valar, and Eru Ilúvatar may see my love for you.'

'Triwathon, I already have loved you forever! I do not see a time when that will stop but, as you say, this is not yet a safe world; let it be as you suggest, that we are vowed forever unless death or ships intervene, but with the hope and intention of binding us each to the other for all the days there are, when the time is right for us. May Eru Ilúvatar see our vows, made in the bright starlight surrounded by our forest.'

'Let these, your vows, be noted and it brings joy to me to be Witness for you,' Thindorion said. 'If you have tokens, now is the moment to exchange them.'

With a little fumbling and uncertainty as to who would offer the first token to whom, Parvon fixed in place the armband he'd made for Triw; his newly-vowed husband grinned, and would have paused to exclaim and delight, but Thindorion cleared his throat to remind them of the as-yet incomplete ritual.

'It is lovely,' Triw said. 'I can see a silver ring, and a beautiful stone. I have this for you…'

He wrapped Parvon's wrist in a woven band, leather and silk threads, bowstring and a slim braid of his hair.

'Triw, thank you! All the colours I love…'

'For the elf I love. Parvon, I…'

'Your vows are spoken, your tokens exchanged,' Thindorion interrupted hastily, lifting high a lantern and uncovering it. 'Live in love and light!'

The bright glow of the lantern shone forth, and Triw took Parvon's hand, turning to face the gathered elves behind them. As many stars as were in the sky, it seemed to him, were repeated in the numbers of the lanterns and candles and lamps lifted for him and Parvon, and he squeezed Parvon's hand delightedly.

'Everyone is here, everyone!' he exclaimed. 'All the guard, all the Walkers. Everyone!'

'Indeed,' Parvon said. 'And they have even brought their elflings, even though there is a chance they might see something they ought not…'

'I don't… what do you mean, Parvon?'

And Parvon pulled close against Triwathon's body and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him as if he might never stop.