Parvon watched Triw until his husband and Commander Govon had vanished beyond a turn in the corridor before knocking at the prince's door.

'Come in.'

He did so, securing the door after him.

'Good, you weren't long. Now.' Legolas at a wooden chest, strongly bound with brass corners and strapwork, housed underneath the table 'This is the coffer where the documents are put.'

'Most convenient, hir-nin!'

'Well, it's rather a nuisance having to lift it out every time there's something to file, or something to find, but it works as a system.'

'And your scribes? How do they find it?'

'Daehel and Saelchanorion? They don't mind. They live in talain and come in for the morning hours…' Legolas looked around him. 'They don't work in here, of course, they do their paperwork at the tables in the eating hall; that way, they can take notes when I give the day's notices and news, and then come to find me when they need to file their documents…'

'And if they need sight of previous notes and records?'

'Yes, then, too.' The prince grimaced. 'Parvon, you've got that look about you…'

'Which look might that be, my prince?'

'The patient one that I remember from breakfast meetings long past. The look that says, you have much to learn, princeling, so I will not scold you yet… I suppose I probably need an office, somewhere… do you think?'

'I do indeed think that, ernilen. For the sake of your scribes, if not for your colony…'

'We've had priorities, you know. The more so after your sufferings at the New Palace; it was a reminder that danger can still strike, and so we had to get shelter under the stone for as many as we could; the rooms where your travelling companions slept last night, they are our emergency shelters.'

'The room where the gemstone is to be set up would be ideal as an office…'

'Yes, I suppose it would be. Except that is the private meeting room, for when Faramir or his counsellor come to talk to us. Besides, as you noted, the starlight gemstone will be there soon…'

'Only for a day or so, surely? Very well, a room near that one would be ideal, your scribes would be to hand for when these meetings took place…'

'I agree, it surely would be… unfortunately, there is nothing finished on that corridor…'

'How long would it take? And how unfinished, exactly?'

Legolas shifted uneasy shoulders.

'I do not know. A month, perhaps, to make something workable. Potentially longer if you want a proper floor. The rooms are hewn out, but Gimli wanted to come back to oversee the fine work, so we were going to start when he sent word he was free…'

'Legolas, I know you do not love formality, but this is important!'

'So is building ships. And that's more to my liking, Parvon. You remind me so much of Arveldir, did you know?'

'Flattery, my prince, will not deflect me from this. You have asked for my help, and I am trying to fulfil your request…'

'Is it too late to un-ask you?'

Parvon held the prince's gaze until he capitulated.

'What about if I promise, two months, it will be done, a proper office will be made somewhere for my poor scribes, and they will be beset and overworked and I will have far too much work to do because I will have to read everything they present to me!'

'I will not be here in two months to see your promise kept, hir-nin. And so I will agree, in the spirit of compromise…'

'Excellent!'

'…that if you permit me to take over some two or three of the rooms allotted to emergency shelters for a temporary office, and to bring me to your scribes immediately so that we may find suitable rooms forthwith …'

'Villain.' Legolas grinned. 'Bully. Former Advisor-in-chief! I liked you when you were my personal advisor, Parvon, I really did…'

'But that was in the Old Palace, under the Elvenking your father. It is simply that when you are in charge of a community, the pressures on you are different from when you have someone senior to take the lead. When it is you to whom everyone looks, it is important to have records, so that you do not accidentally contradict yourself. So that when you have meetings with the lords of neighbouring provinces, they cannot take advantage of you by claiming to remember things differently. This… administrative indolence is harmful and practically begs for the Men to take advantage of your neglect…'

'Faramir is my friend; he would never do such a thing!'

'Perhaps not. Does his chief counsellor have the same moral integrity? Or does he have his lord's interests, or what he perceives his lord's interests to be, so much at heart that a neighbouring prince of the elves is of little matter to him, especially one who doesn't seem to worry about such things himself?'

I… well… It is true that Minister Vanathir is very much a Man…' The prince appeared to give this some consideration. 'And I have wondered, a little, about things I had thought were matters to be discussed in detail which suddenly have been implemented, without my having to make any decisions… But I am sure it is fine…'

The hesitancy in Legolas' voiced made Parvon nod slowly.

'It will be presently, my prince. It will all be fine presently. Now, shall we start by introducing me to your scribes?'

Triwathon, following Govon out of the caverns, looked around with eager, experienced eyes.

'You have your barracks away from the caverns?'

'We've set up more or less halfway between the talain and the shelters,' Govon said. 'On the basis that if there's an emergency, then we can gather where we're needed most with least time.'

'Yes, that's sensible. Of course, you've a more compact area of habitation, I think?'

'Just the one official talan village, although the hunters are fond of spending time on the flets and I think have some unofficial lodgings for off duty time. They're not keen on the caverns, and in fact, we really don't use them too much...'

'But Legolas has rooms there, and the staff…?'

'Yes, well, that's it. He's spent so long underground, he's not at ease with open sky above. So he says.' Govon sighed. 'I think it's something else… I think it's the war. He doesn't talk about it, not really. He's travelled so far, halfway across the world, it seems to me…'

'It's a long walk from the Old Palace down to Ithilien,' Triwathon said. 'And I should imagine, when you came, you didn't have the benefit of a nice, friendly, unsanctioned canal to make things easier…?'

Govon laughed.

'That's true, and poor 'Las went the long way round, too. No, there's always a presence in the caves – mostly because when 'Las is dealing with the Men, they're not at ease in talain, and we fear they might accidentally hurt the trees. Besides, the woods already feel too private to share. So, yes, we have our rooms there, but I try to be present in the garrison as well. It's not ideal, which is why I desperately need a good Second in Command…'

'But that's not what Mago was being considered for?'

'No, it was, just a captaincy to start with. But then he'd have freed up space for someone else to move up, and I could try out the ones I think might not be completely useless.' Govon shot him a sideways glance that was almost sly, somehow. 'Of course, if I could find someone with the right experience who would just fit in, that would be perfect…'

'It's a tricky ask, I suppose. Thiriston would be ideal, as I've said… but…'

'Exactly. But… where Thiriston goes, Canadion goes, and Canadion doesn't like being so far from his father… and his father's husband is not fond of Men and shudders when they are mentioned, and so Merenor will not come, and Canadion will not come for more than a duty round, and so Thiriston will not…' Govon tried not to sound too exasperated. 'It's a pity, I like him, the hunters and regulars alike respect him, and I'd like him for the job.'

'Celeguel, then. Hunter background before moving across to the guard. I trained with her, she's really rather good at what she does.'

'Yes, but I don't think she wants to do it here. Not all the time, and that's the problem; I can get volunteers for a season's tour, easily enough, but a fixed posting…?'

'I sympathise, Commander. From my own people, both Narunir and Hannith are more than competent troop captains, but both hail originally from the villages north of the Old Palace, and I doubt they would consider Ithilien… Lieutenant Maldis was happy to return in Tawon's place, that shows willing for your captaincy, perhaps?'

'That's a thought; she's good enough, I think, just lacking a little bit of command practice. But that will come, of course, in time. At the moment I need someone who can slot straight in, so to speak. What doesn't really help is the mix we have here – two hunter troops, two warrior companies, each taking a month's tour, so there are always three here and one on the road. When there are more warriors, the hunters feel outnumbered, and when there are more hunters, the warriors feel they've something to prove. There's no real cohesion. It's all very friendly, of course…'

'Of course. Well, where are your training grounds?'

Triwathon looked around. Ahead, the barracks building was a solid presence, a muster ground was laid out before it, but of the expected sparring circles and archery butts there was no sign.

'Well, we didn't really want any visitors seeing our tactics and techniques, so… the line of trees, there? We've set up behind those; the trees moved around for us to make a good, discreet area. If my people are doing their jobs in the watch flet, they should hail us once we get within bowshot.'

Within a few minutes of this, a whistled call came from behind the line of trees. Govon cupped his hands around his mouth and sent out a greeting in reply before hastening his pace.

'That's Faug signalling,' he said. 'He doesn't have the experience to captain for me either…'

'You'll find someone,' Triwathon said.

The flet guard Faug descended to greet them, to hail Triwathon as an old friend, although Triw only remembered the hunter as an occasional sparring partner. He smiled and repeated 'Well met,' however, and Faug seemed pleased.

'Commanders, are you here for practice…?'

'Just to observe. What are they up to today?'

'Open hand, knives, and bows.'

'Thank you. Come along, Triwathon; we go round and then there's a gate.'

The trees grew so closely together that there was no easy way through, making both a living screen and an effective blockade of the forest within that hinted at more than just to hid the practice grounds. When Triwathon commented, Govon's smile was more like to a grimace.

'Poachers! We are trying to restore the woodlands and their populations, but the Men are hungry and claim they have rights to hunt here. They do not, but by the time we catch them and complain, that's another deer slain, more coney dead… Legolas hates it, but so far hasn't managed to make anyone understand.'

'I have to admit, I do not understand either…?'

'No. Well, our agreement with Faramir was that we live on this land, and restore it, and Men would come only when invited. Now, the Men say Ithilien is part of Gondor, and the king has hunting rights here, and the king is a Man, and so they are keeping his rights alive. One of these days, we will find a way to remind them that poaching from the King is itself a crime, but in the interim, we do what we can to protect the wildlife. It means we eat less well than we should, because someone amongst us has to be restrained… Never mind that, here is the gate. Faug will have unbarred it for us.'

The gate was sited in an archway formed by two trees curving across to meet above, and it yielded to Govon's touch. Faug was waiting within, grinning.

'Will you be long, Commanders?'

'We may be. Go back to your post, we'll signal when we leave. Or perhaps climb up to your flet inside, and down on the outside of the woods. Triw, this way now, the grounds are not far.'

'Indeed, I can hear the practice!'