One morning at breakfast a few days later, Parvon overheard some of the guards talking about a hunting party. He looked up with a glance at Triwathon.

'Ah, I have been remiss in my foraging duties of late,' he said. 'But I have been… preoccupied.'

A smattering of laughter.

'No, no, we quite understand, 'replied Captain Magorion, who was listening and who often led the hunters out. 'We will have ample supplies presently, of course. Besides, you have much better things to do with your time.'

'Indeed, so I…' Parvon broke off. 'What do you mean, ample supplies presently?'

'Oh.' For a heartbeat, Magorion looked confused. 'Well, we are nearing the river… fishing, there are opportunities for fishing…'

'What?' Parvon frowned, shaking his head. 'That cannot be, I must speak to Captain Thiriston at once!'

'Parvon? What's wrong?' Triwathon asked.

'Our intended route does not lie anywhere near the river; we should proceed south, and leave the forest near to the new road they have made… if we have gone astray, this must be corrected immediately; now I think, I remember having wondered that our way seemed different from my expectations, but I have had better things to think about and so…'

'Ah… I may have spoken out of turn, but this is the route the Ithilien companies always take these days, I do not know if you knew this, Master Parvon? I am sure Captain Thiriston will explain it all… Let me go and warn – that is, let him know you are concerned…'

While they waited for Magorion's return, Triw stroked Parvon's arm gently.

'Surely it cannot be such a problem as you imagine?' he asked. 'I do not really understand why it should be?'

'The king's orders were quite detailed in the route and direction of the journey; he was keen for those sailing to spend as much time as possible in the forest, so they might be certain of their hearts; I was given strict instructions to keep the march away from the river, lest the lure of boats prove too enticing…'

'About that, Master Parvon…' Thiriston approached. 'Can I have a word? In private? Oh, he can come, your husband, but… this isn't for anyone else…'

They followed the captain through the warrior camp to a place out of the way of activity.

'Now,' Thiriston began, attempting to look stern (and managing to look rather ferocious, Parvon thought) 'you know how it is, we all get our instructions, and I was handed sealed orders to open only when we was over the bridge and on our way…'

'Yes…?'

'Well, Over-captain's orders were to lead off on your route, but then to divert to our usual paths towards the river…'

'…hence the potential abundance of fish for supplies…'

'Yes, but more than that… we've an outpost for swapping patrols; those headed to Ithilien come up in boats and wait there for those coming back up to the Old Palace, then the same boats are used to get the fresh troops to the colony faster. Too many delays leaving and on the road, Over-captain thought, so we're headed to the outpost to save time. Now, you can argue if you like, Master Parvon, but what's the point? All the Walkers are sailing, you're sailing… is it that important?'

Parvon's jaw dropped as Thiriston grinned and gurned at him. 'I… that is outrageous! If the king were to find out that the Over-captain had countermanded his orders…'

'Glad you put it like that. But it's not as if we're joining the Anduin proper; we're heading for just a little stream…'

'A stream.'

'Hardly more than a brook, really. Not even worth being called a stream, not at all… It rises north of Amon Lanc, cuts through the forest and over the open lands south west to join the main waters. It's so small it isn't even on the maps! Come, Master Parvon, who's to know? It's going to be easier to float down to Ithilien than walk, isn't it?'

'It depends. On the path, one can fall back, or speed up, if one is not happy with one's immediate companions. In a boat, there would be no escape.'

'On a ship neither, for that matter! But quicker, easier, and this way we can raid the supplies at the outpost for the Walkers, stop them grumbling so much. Now, if you will, I need to start everyone walking.'

Once Parvon had thrown off his King's Office disapproval of the change of plan, he found himself settling to the idea… and the walk. Indeed, with Triw's hand in his, it was more like a pleasant stroll through the woods with his sweetheart than a march, even if they were headed for an unsanctioned camping place...

'Can I intrude?' Canadion hesitated a few steps away from their place in the company, his friendly smile in evidence. 'I have a request to make, Master Parvon…'

Parvon gestured a welcome, stepping a little closer to Triwathon in order to make space for the captain on the path alongside.

'Walk with us, please. How can I help?'

'Well, we have made good time and expect to be at the outpost in time for supper. And Thiriston and I were talking, and it occurred to us, that the elves stationed there may have memories of the Balrog-Slayer, to add to the gemstone. And the elves from Ithilien, heading up to the Old Palace… they may also have memories, and no chance to speak them else… we would like permission to share the gemstone with them this evening, and perhaps overnight? It would be a kindness…'

'Of course,' Parvon said, nodding. 'If there were a spare pavilion, perhaps, where the stone could be placed, if an honour-guard could be found… I would be happy to be present for some of the time…'

'I will join you, Parvon, if you will,' Triwathon said. 'You and I, we were there, we can answer any questions there may be. But… not all night.'

Canadion nodded.

'Of course there will be an honour guard; Thiriston and I will take a watch. There will be others willing to honour the fallen, I am sure. Well, I will take back the word to Thiriston. And my thanks; I know myself, now, how much people wish to question one who was present; your offer is a generous one, and that both of you are willing… it is a good of you to give your time. Now, I will leave you to walk. The stream is not far now, only about a mile ahead.'

Also ahead was the waystation, settled a little way from the tributary Thiriston had claimed was hardly more than a brook, not even worthy of the name 'stream'…

'It's more like a canal!' Parvon exclaimed, trying to keep the disapproval from his tone. 'I wonder whether his majesty knows of…'

'No, he doesn't!' Canadion called out, overhearing and laughing as he replied. 'And it would be better if he didn't get to know! Someone thought it would be helpful to ask the trees just to shuffle aside, and it created a natural gully and someone else thought it would be useful! And it is, it shaves six days off the journey and gives the hunters time to rest as they journey on. Now, Master Parvon, if you will take that sour look from your face, I'll show you where your accommodations are tonight; we have spared no effort… and then I will take you to where the gemstone should be set, if you permit.'

'We will set the stone first, if you will, and then see our lodgings. If it suits the company, after supper, Triwathon and I will talk about the attack on the New Palace settlements…'

'In order to get it out of the way, no doubt!' Canadion nodded. 'It is a good notion. Then Thiriston and I can support your tale with our experiences – hopefully, it will be the last time for a while!'

'Thank you,' Parvon said. 'After that, we will go to the gemstone and take first watch. An hour, I think, will be enough.'

'More than enough,' Triwathon put in. 'Parvon?'

'An hour. And after that, we will not be disturbed with questions for the rest of the night,' Parvon said with all the authority of his King's Office persona. 'Very well. Where is the stone to go?'

'Follow me.'

Canadion took them through the outpost buildings, pointing out the relevant huts and structures as he went.

'The cook fires are along there… hygiene facilities over there… workshop for archery needs… stores… the general barracks…'

'There's a barracks?'

'Oh, it is nothing, just a structure. Tents are pitched inside, it keeps out the rain and snow…'

'And Thranduil knows nothing of this?'

'We hope he does not, Master Parvon, it might be awkward… That is, it will be a nice surprise for him, when he comes to visit his son in Ithilien, no?'

The pavilion for the gemstone had been erected a little distance from the barracks in a clearing open to the stars. The stone was soon set, and Parvon nodded approval.

'Yes; it sits well, and is appropriately housed. Good. Now, you mentioned our lodgings? For if I am to address the company, I will wish to change into my formal robes of office...'

'And no doubt you will need your husband's help.' Canadion grinned as he said this. 'Come. We could not find you a flet, but we have a nice tent for you through here…'

It was indeed a nice tent, although splendid pavilion seemed more appropriate to Parvon's mind. Spacious and fitted out with mattresses beneath their bedrolls, their packs already placed for them and a small table with wine and cups waiting.

'This is luxury indeed!' Parvon exclaimed. 'Please express our gratitude to whomever provided this, including the wine.'

'Especially the wine,' Triwathon said, eyeing the bottle. 'It looks like the good Dorwinion, although how it has come here…?

'Intended as a softener for if Thranduil should chance on the camp,' Canadion said. 'But we thought you would appreciate it almost as much. So. You will hear the call to supper in around an hour; plenty of time to enjoy the wine. I will tell the company of your offer to relate the tale of events, and that you will be honour guard for the Lord of Gondolin.'

The captain loped off, and Parvon repressed a sigh, but smiled as he heard the ghosting of Triwathon's breath beside him.

'It is nothing,' he said, in answer to Parvon's silent enquiry. 'It is just… it seems we will never be done with… him.'

'You know, Triw,' he began, 'I was thinking much the same thing myself. But this has to be done, and when we get to Ithilien, I'll have to go through it once more for everyone there… I knew this when I left, of course; it was not a surprise to me to be called on again.'

'No, but… does it not hurt you? After all he and I… we…' Triw tailed off, floundering in a wash of furtive guilt. 'I am sorry.'

Parvon decided now would be a good time to broach the wine. He passed a cup to Triwathon, filled one for himself.

'I've tried not to dwell on it overmuch, love. I'd enough to do, really, without allowing my own feelings to get in the way. King's Elf, remember?' he said. 'Public face, formal stance, don't let the mask slip… after a while, it becomes a shield. And now… well, I won't say it doesn't matter, because that would be to belittle all the good that came from your friendship together. But it cannot be changed, and so I have learned to accept it; we are shaped by our lives, by our past and the people we meet there. It was because of your Balrog-Slayer that you found your confidence and became such a good captain… and it was because you were a good captain you were given the command of the New Palace. So but for him, we would not have worked together, would not have had the chance to form a friendship on which we have since been able to build. No, I can't mind it, Triw, even if there have been moments when I found it difficult. And this? A ritual to honour him? I can do this, I think, for not only is it my duty, but… it is because of him, perhaps, that we are here now, married and with our lives ahead.'

He lifted his winecup in a silent toast.

'Triw, we may never be done with him; I have accepted that. But I am sure the time will come when his death no longer hurts you as much, and guilt no longer troubles you. So. Drink, and sit, and we will steel ourselves for the conversation to come.'