Parvon and Triwathon having decided between themselves that the following morning would be well spent about their adopted activities, they arrived for breakfast suitably prepared, with Parvon wearing his formal robes while Triw brought his bow and quiver with him to the hall, setting it down near his seat. It did not take long for Daehel and Saelchanorion, already present and seated at a small table near the head of the room, to spot them. Daehel inclined her head gravely, and Parvon repeated the gesture.

'Your friend learns fast,' Triwathon said, a laugh in his voice. 'Almost it is a pity – I liked her enthusiasm!'

'I am sure she will regain it, in time,' Parvon said. 'Although I wonder whether there is something amiss; they both look more than usually solemn. Well, I can perhaps find out later.'

They had finished eating and were debating the rudeness of leaving before the day's announcements when Commander Govon entered the hall, walking briskly, his head high and his shoulders stiff as he stopped at the place where Legolas was wont to address the hall. He lifted his chin and projected his voice out across the full breakfast gathering.

'Good morning, mellyn-nin! Today our prince has suggested I read out the day's news to you, so if you are ready…'

'I think perhaps we've done well to stay and hear the announcements today,' Triwathon murmured over Govon's announcements. 'Where is the prince?'

'Good question.' Parvon finished the last of his breakfast tea. 'Govon looks distressed, almost, do you think?'

'There's definitely something amiss, he's looking too relaxed, except in his shoulders. I've seen him like that on the eve of battle…'

'Yes, indeed; at least we are not on a war footing currently. Well, I will see what our good scribes know of the matter later, no doubt…'

Both fell silent to pay attention to the commander.

'And today, again, the starlight gemstone is available for memory-speaking, in the formal meeting chamber. Someone from the garrison will be on duty outside when the room is ready. Otherwise, for the benefit of our guests particularly, a reminder that the weekly market is held today in the smaller square in Osgiliath… additionally, we have learned that the Swan of Ithilien is now moored in her departure position and is beginning to take on supplies. We expect to hear shortly concerning the time of sailing, but we expect it to be on either tomorrow's later tide, or the earlier tide on the day following. Should any of you have goodbyes to say, or wish to watch the ship, and our friends depart, be aware there may be another announcement shortly…' Govon paused as Daehel behind him cleared her throat, leaned forward to whisper up at him. 'Yes, thank you. There is now a notice board outside the new Office of the Prince, where announcements such as that will be posted each morning and updated regularly. Thank you.'

Govon dipped his head towards the room, looked at Saelchanorion with a questioning eyebrow, and marched from the hall. As soon as he'd left, and before Parvon and Triw had begun to assimilate the implications of sailing tomorrow, or the morning after, the underscribe had risen from his seat and crossed to their table, bowing politely.

'Please pardon the intrusion, Master Parvon, Commander, but Commander Govon wished me to invite you both to join him in the chief meeting room, if you please.'

'Of course.' Parvon wrapped himself in his formal persona and rose to his feet with a swift smile at Triwathon, who obligingly pushed his plate away and stood up, collecting his bow as he did so. 'Also, Master Saelchanorion, if you and Advisor Daehel would be willing, I shall put myself at your disposal this morning. Once I have seen what Commander Govon needs, of course.'

'Of course.' Saelchanorion bowed and stepped back, gesturing Parvon before him. 'You know where the meeting room is?'

'We do so.'

Govon was inside the chamber, kicking idly at the leg of the sturdy table on which the gemstone was set, causing it to rock in its setting. Parvon closed the door softly behind himself and Triw.

'Commander, you wished to see us? How may we serve?'

The commander turned, shaking his head and sinking onto a bench at the side of the room.

'I…' He looked down at his hands, deliberately stilled the twisting of his fingers and shaking his head. 'I need to tell you something. About Legolas…'

He broke off, and Parvon came to sit beside him, nodding Triw to a seat on the other side.

'How can we help, Govon?'

'Legolas is ill, he…'

'Ill?' Triw asked, disbelief in his voice. 'But he is an elf, he… Or… Is it something to do with the War?'

'You could say so.' Govon took in a huge breath that had less to do with needing air and more to do with steadying himself, Parvon thought. 'He has the sea-longing sickness, it happened while he was away on his quest. He… there are days when he can't…'

'This is grievous indeed,' Parvon said. 'I have never seen one suffering under the sea-longing; when will you sail with him?'

'Sail…? I… Oh, he has promised to sail with that friend of his, the Dwarf; I'm to stay behind…'

'But would you not be with him?' Triwathon asked.

'Doesn't matter, he doesn't need me, no, not with Gim…'

'Govon.' Parvon made his voice calm and steady, cutting into Govon's rising bitterness. 'Can nothing else be done for him, other than to sail?'

The commander shook his head. 'There is nothing, not really. Not that we are not already doing. He… When it comes to it, neither of us want to go… He's better now than he was, really, you were not at the Old Palace to see him when he came home. He grew quieter and quieter, more and more pale, until at last we, his father and I, we could not bear it. There was this invitation from Faramir, and Nestoril said she had heard that those living near the sea sometimes became inured, and the river brings the song on the wind enough to stay the longing, so we came here. We thought, also, that building the ship, knowing there was a way for him to sail, if he must, would help… True, it has helped, but… he has days like this, when he can't face anything…'

'How often?' Parvon asked. 'Has coming here helped, is he improving, or worsening, or just settling to a level, can you say?'

'Improving, I would say. Yes, yes, he is not as bad as… well, he is, but not as often, only when it happens, I forget that it will pass, I just see and feel his pain…'

'And how long do these episodes last?'

'I don't… I can't think about this, Parvon, I can't do this! Leave me alone!'

Govon pushed to his feet and strode across the room to stare, unseeing, at the gemstone. Parvon crossed to his side.

'The suffering of those we love is worse than our own, at times,' he said. 'Forgive me, but if I am to help, I need to know more. I do not wish to intrude, truly.'

'I… no, it's me at fault. Let me think… this is the first time in weeks… so that's definitely better, when we arrived, it was every few days for much of a day or night… it can vary, how long they last, the attacks. Anything from hours to two days, shorter ones are less intense but come back sooner… this came on overnight, I woke to find him… You're right, he should sail, but he's promised the Dwarf to wait, since it's going to be decades before he's ready to go…'

'A companion from the quest, I think? It must hurt you, that he was there, at your husband's side, and you were not.'

'Of course it does! And that he promised to sail with him, but… he didn't know, at the time. How bad the sea-longing could get.'

'Would not the Dwarf sail sooner, for Legolas' sake?'

'He might, but… we… 'Las doesn't want him to know how bad it is. Besides, he's…' Another sigh, and a shake of the head. 'I hate this, I do, but 'Las is waiting for his other friends to die first.'

'Govon?'

'He doesn't say it like that, he says he wants to stay while they're here, but that's what it comes down to. His friends amongst the Men, I mean – Aragorn – King Elessar, that is… and Faramir, and Ëomer. There's Arwen, too, if you think about it – when her husband dies, she'll need friends…'

'I have met the lady,' Parvon said. 'I can see that she may not have many friends.'

'No, she…'

From the bench, Triwathon gave a snort of suppressed laughter.

'Ai, it is not her fault!' Govon finally smiled, and it seemed to Parvon that his anxiety and sorrow receded. 'She means well…! Parvon, did you mean it, you will help with Legolas?'

'While I am here, if I can, yes.'

'We both will,' Triw added.

'Then, my thanks. I really hate leaving him by himself when he's like this, I don't know what he might do… but there's been nobody but me to take over, garrison and state matters… If I give you his seal, Parvon, will you take charge of this side today?'

'Gladly. I might point out that this is what the King's Office was for, at the Old Palace, to attend to matters of state and business while the king was busy or indisposed…'

'Yes, and thank you for getting the scribes started here! Here – now you're in charge of state matters.' Govon removed the prince's seal ring from his smallest finger and pressed it into Parvon's hand before turning towards Triwathon. 'Commander, Thiriston knows what's going on. Tell him I give him command of the garrison today, and will you oversee the hunters of Ash Grove for me? I want them to keep their minds off their losses, if you can, get them working… perhaps now is a good day for them to try swords…'

'They don't like swords,' Triwathon said. 'They say they're hard to manage in the canopy. Which is true, in fact.'

'Knives, then, or hand-to-hand. Close quarter work, to show them not every encounter ends in death.'

'Ah, I see, now. Yes, I will do what I can.'

'I am grateful.' Govon strode to the door, the spring almost back in his step. 'If anyone needs me, I can't be found, but if it's really important, I'll be in our quarters with my husband.'

'Thank you, Triw,' Parvon said when they were alone. 'It's good of you to speak up for the hunters. I can see Govon has more to manage than I realised.'

'And good of you to help, also.' He took Parvon's hand and pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek. 'Well, I planned on working with our friends today, anyway. I don't know how they'll react to taking orders from me, though!'

'Don't give them orders, then. Just tell them your ideas.'

'As you'll be telling the scribes your ideas, no doubt?' Triw grinned suddenly. 'Good luck with that!'

'Oh, I am sure it will be well. Apart from expecting information about the departure of the ship, I don't think there's much official business today. Instead, I'll try to get them used to the idea of taking charge, I think. That way, if the prince is taken ill again, it will be one less worry for Govon.'

'The ship! I know we were expecting it to be soon, but… that is very soon! Tomorrow?'

'I know. But at least we do not have lengthy preparations to make.'

They paused inside the doorway to exchange another kiss, then left, decorously apart. Outside, two or three elves were waiting.

'Is the room open for memories, yet?' one asked.

'Not yet,' Parvon said. 'When the honour guard arrives from the garrison.'

'I am on my way there now, to ask Commander Thiriston to send someone,' Triwathon said, as if it really were his true intention. 'Parvon, I will send word when my duty is over.'

'Thank you, Triwathon.'

They exchanged eye-smiles and parted, Triw to the garrison and Parvon hastening towards the Offices of the Prince in Ithilien. Daehel was in the larger side office, and Saelchanorion in the main room, under the light, copying. Both raised their heads, Daehel giving her best attempt at a formal smile.

'Good morning, Master Parvon, how may we serve?'

'Advisor Daehel, good day to you. I am charged by Commander Govon with an unexpected task today; he has asked me to bear the prince's seal and act under his authority, which means I do, indeed, need your help.'

'Really? Is it Legolas, how bad is he today?' Daehel exclaimed, then huffed out a breath. 'And I was doing so well with the formality, too!'

'You were, indeed.' Parvon smiled. 'I know it is not easy, at first, and, in truth, there has been a move towards less formality in the King's Office of late. The Elvenking hates it, however, but does at least always have a terrifying enough manner of his own without the formality of his advisors. I think, firstly, I have a question; does it often happen that the commander takes our prince's morning address for him?'

'It used to be a quite frequent occurrence, at first. In fact, we wondered whether they were sharing the duty, but… the prince is ill, sometimes. His absence has been far less frequent, however, of late. Forgive me, but I do not know if it's my duty to tell you what's up, or my duty not to…'

'Generally, you will do better to keep private matters such as Legolas' illness to yourselves. Commander Govon explained to me this morning that the prince suffers from the sea-fever, and asked that I take the lead here, while Commander Triwathon helps in the garrison, so that he may be free to stay with our prince.'

Saelchanorion came into the office and closed the door quietly behind him.

'You know, then?'

'Yes, it came as something of a surprise, but I can only sympathise; I have no personal experience.'

'They say it is like being in love with one who does not return one's feelings,' Saelchanorion said. 'It is an unpleasant thought, for love will fade, in time, but they say the sea-fever is always present.'

'Love doesn't always fade, Saelchi,' Parvon said softly, dropping formality to soothe the underscribe. 'But sometimes, it is not a bad thing, even if there is pain mingled with the love. Now, what have you there? Is it the day's notes? Oh, excellent… shall we put them on the board? And have you much else to do, or is there something you would like to discuss concerning the filing system…? Oh, and when do you expect to hear about the ship…?'

Thiriston was waiting at the barracks when Triwathon arrived.

'You know, then?' he asked. 'Pity. Can't be helped, they say. So. I've got the easy job, Govon said you'd be with the hunters?'

'I am glad to help,' Triwathon said. 'Do they know, about the prince?'

'Not supposed to,' Thiriston said with his fierce grin. 'They do, of course. But Govon don't know they know. Not helpful, the silences.'

'They rarely are. Well, I will be discreet.'

'Good fellow. Grateful to you.'

'I don't suppose you can spare twenty minutes? Knife practice, there's none to match you…'

'You remember?' Thiriston looked over his shoulder, thinking. 'If I can get away, might join you. Now, got them in the common room waiting for orders.'

'Well met, Follow!'

Cýrion was sitting on a table near the doorway. Around him, other members of the two hunter companies were arranged on benches, tables, chair, sitting on the backs as often as the seats, or on the window sills looking out; it was more as if they were sitting in the forest, with the furniture serving as trees and branches, stumps and fallen logs. There seemed to be a demarcation between Ash and Rowan, with the latter watching with interest as more and more of the Ash hunters hailed Triw and he nodded greetings back and waved, and accepted claps on the back and remembered names.

'Cýrion, how does the day find you?' he asked, when he had chance to approach his friend.

'Better than some days of late. How's your Stern?'

'Parvon is well, my thanks. He's said again how much he enjoyed shooting with everyone.'

'Then he must come again.'

'Thank you, I know he will enjoy that.' Triwathon glanced around the room, expecting someone to say something about the day's work, but there was nothing. 'Are you busy today?'

'We haven't been. We were waiting.'

'For what?'

'For you, apparently.' Cýrion hunched a shoulder and gestured. 'Rowan hunters, are you coming too? Shall we all follow Follow today?'

Nods around, and the hunters readied themselves to leave. Although Cýrion was in front, he drew Triwathon with him and led the way across to the poacher-proof gate and inside, calling out to the watch and then making his way into the trees to a glade Triwathon had not seen before. In the open space the hunters took seats on fallen logs and old stumps. It reminded Triw of how they were gathered in the barracks, and he smiled.

Abonnessel spoke, cutting over the soft conversations that had started.

'Triwathon, this is where we gather to take orders from Commander Govon, or from Captain Shout,' she told him. 'Neither are here, but you are. Govon was not in the barracks at all today. Legolas is ill again, isn't he?'

'It seems so, yes.'

She smiled, shaking her head. 'Yes, you are wise to be cautious, but don't fear, we know what's going on; our friend Moss was in the hall this morning, for the announcements.' She nodded across to an elf amongst the Rowan Grove hunters. 'Thus we know that Commander Govon took the address, and he only does that when our prince cannot. Do not fear! We are not about to press you for court secrets! It is known amongst us already that Legolas suffers the sea-fever. Did you know, perchance?'

'Commander Govon told Parvon and I this morning… but I don't think he knows you're aware of it…'

'No, he finds it hard to dissemble, that one. It is not a bad thing,' an Ash hunter called Dusk said. 'But it explains why he is not here today. He will have to be available in case there are problems.'

For a moment Triw wondered whether he should explain that Parvon had been asked to take charge in Legolas' stead, but decided that was something for Govon to explain, if he would.

'He did mention that Commander Thiriston would be taking over in the Garrison,' Triw admitted. 'And suggested if I were free, perhaps I could… join your practice?'

'Oh, Valar! What does he want us to do?' Cýrion asked.

'I told him swords and the canopy are silly, if that helps. But really, I think he just wants to know you're not feeling… neglected, perhaps?'

'Well,' Dusk said, a briskness in his voice. 'Let us go to the practice grounds. I'm feeling in the mood for knives, suddenly. Moss, are Rowan with us today, or will you go elsewhere to work?'

'No, if you're content with that, we'll take longbow on the further range. Perhaps after the day meal we could work together on open hand and quarterstaffing?'

'That sounds like a plan. Well, Follow. We'll go to the knife range.'

While knife target work wasn't what Govon had in mind for Ash Hunters, Triwathon decided that the session after the day meal would fulfil the commander's requirements.

It wasn't his strongest discipline, but the hand/eye co-ordination he honed with his archery skills meant that he was certainly comfortably in the middle range of the hunters' standard. Abonnessel threw best of them all, and Cýrion was narrowly the worst, but his shoulder was still stiff from his injury and Triwathon didn't think he would be at the bottom of the ranking once his strength and mobility returned.

'Best of the set?' the elf on the next target said with a grin.

'Certainly, Frond. By turns, or at will?'

'Just let them fly when they're ready, yes?'

'Yes, as you please.'

They threw their six knives each at the target. Frond hurled his blades, as if he were attacking a living enemy. His vehemence made Triwathon steady himself and cast more slowly, and his deliberate preparation and patient throwing gave him the win by two clear hits. It was only as he sighed out his relief and stepped back that he realised Thiriston had arrived and had been watching.

'Well thrown, both of you. Frond, watch your temper, you'll do better next time.'

As they reached their targets to remove their blades, Frond nodded at Triwathon.

'Well done. I didn't know knives were your special things.'

'Nor I. Luck, perhaps. But you made me work, and your speed was the greater.'

They headed back towards the waiting hunters.

'I can do better than that, it was an off day. We should cast again.' Frond laughed and shook his head. 'If there is time before you go running off to follow your husband across the seas!'

A murmur from those of the hunters in earshot; Triw wasn't sure if they were protesting or encouraging their friend. He shook his head.

'No, for I was named Follow when I was young and foolish and believed I had to do all that was asked of me. Parvon I follow for love, and because he has waited long for me. There will be time to throw against you, if you wish. Or archery is good, if you are not afraid to pit your bow against mine?'

'Afraid? No, I am not afraid of you…'

'That's agreed, then, 'Dusk said, sliding into the discussion before it had chance to grow unfriendly. 'Now, Shout has offered to show us some of his tricks, so gather round and find seats. Let's see how the best amongst us does it!'

As everyone found places, Frond edged nearer to Triwathon and sat beside him.

'I meant no harm, friend Follow, with my words.'

'I took no harm from them, friend Frond.'

'It is just that we know you always said you would not sail. And now you are.'

'The same could be said of many. In fact, Parvon was not going to sail until misfortune struck him so hard. I did not wish to be here without him.'

'To have one for whom you would give up all… I do not know whether to envy you or pity you!'

'Neither, friend Frond. But I do not pity myself, at least. He is where I am at my best.'

'And, really, I should honour you. After all, Govon will not sail, although our prince needs to. He refuses. It is not right. So I beg your pardon, for in this you are acting far better than he.'

'You flatter me, but really, I do not think it is as easy for the commander as it may seem.'

Dusk called them to order, then, and Thiriston began throwing his knives. As he watched the display, it occurred to Triwathon that on previous days Cýrion or Abonnessel had been the voice of the company, but today Dusk had begun to speak for them. It interested him, for he had not been told who the captain of the Ash hunters might be, just heard their leader referred to as 'he', as one who had stood back after the attack, losing his wish to lead. Although the assumption had had been that it must be Cýrion, since he had lost his lover and was obviously still in emotional pain, now Triw wondered if this was not the case. Abonnessel he thought would make a fine leader, but so would Cýrion.

Well, whatever happened, whomever took over, Triw hoped the hunters would be happy with their next captain, although he rather hoped that their former leader would find it in his heart to take charge once more; the close loyalties of the hunters would respond to that, he thought.

'…And that is all there is too it, obviously!' Dusk said, stepping forward to clap Thiriston on the shoulder. 'Captain Shout, that was outstanding!'

Only then did Triwathon properly look at Thiriston's target, everything in the gold, clustered neatly. Perfect. He joined in the applause.

'Right, then,' Thiriston said. 'Who wants to go next?'