As he signed his name at the end of the letter, Parvon found an unexpectedly huge lump in his throat and had to fight down an urge to weep. It had never occurred to him that he might become over-emotional, and it dawned on him that he had been looking forward to the reunion even more than he had realised. But no matter; he would see his brother soon enough, and meanwhile, Triwathon would be happy and busy, and Parvon would be busy, and happy with Triw; it would not be many years – not much longer than a century at most until Legolas was ready to leave…

He sat pondering all this until the light in the cabin was fading, and it was either leave, or light the lamps. Folding and sealing the letter, he slid it into the pocket of his new over-robe and left the cabin, intent on a few quiet moments in the fresh air, perhaps up on the aftcastle to watch the sun setting across Gondor to the West. But no sooner had he closed the door than he saw Legolas approaching, with intention in his eyes…

'There you are, Parvon! Good, there is something I want you to do for me…'

The briskness of the demand made Parvon blink, refocus, push aside his emotions.

'Of course, ernilen, if I am able…'

'It isn't much, really. I would like you to take charge of the starlight gemstone…'

'My prince?' For a moment, Parvon was confused; for while he was certainly now the proper person to take the stone into his keeping, surely Legolas could not already know that...? 'I do not quite see…?'

'I want you to give it to the king.' As he spoke, Legolas handed over the small casket in which the stone had been placed. 'I think he will appreciate the gesture.'

'I shall indeed take the stone into safekeeping, and do my best to ensure the king gets it,' Parvon said. 'My word upon it. But…'

'Good. The ship's stopping for extra supplies at Harlond and to take on two or three more passengers; you'll have time to get it to Aragorn and Arwen and they can send it back here when they're done…'

Parvon turned to face the prince full on.

'Your pardon, your highness? Do you mean to say you wish me to deliver the gemstone to Elessar Telcontar? To that king?'

'Yes, that's right. Is there a problem? You'll have plenty of time…'

'A problem? In fact, there are several problems, ernilen; to speak of our Silvan ritual practices freely amongst human populations is bad enough, but to actively encourage Men to participate…'

'I'm sure he'd respect our traditions. Besides, didn't elves from Imladris speak memories to the stone…?'

'It is true that Melpomaen spoke the First Memory. But as he had been Glorfindel's last lover, it was his right.'

'Oh. I didn't realise he'd… Triwathon must have been upset, after all, he and Glor… they were…close.'

'They were, indeed, and it was Triwathon who cradled him as he died. But Triw had long accepted that their time was over, and was most supportive of Melpomaen and his friend Lindir in their grief, so I hear. It is best not mentioned in front of my husband, perhaps, for while I have accepted that he has lived and loved before our marriage, he finds it difficult to believe the knowledge does not hurt me. But back to the topic; yes, it is true that the other elves who remain in Imladris are respectful of our ways, Lord Arveldir has seen to that. But Men should not be admitted into Silvan rituals, it is not at all appropriate.'

'It is surely not such an issue?'

'I suggest you contact your father, Legolas, and ask his opinion before doing anything so rash, just to please one or two individuals, even if they are the King and Queen of Gondor,' Parvon said. 'I am sure the Elvenking will request that the stone be returned to the shrine in Eryn Lasgalen.'

'Which you just promised to see done, if I recall?'

'Commanders Thiriston and Canadion would be perfect escorts for the gemstone, on their return to home duty. I would prefer not to be foresworn, however, and so I suggest that I remain here in Ithilien until we hear back from his majesty concerning his wishes in the matter.'

Legolas paused for a heartbeat, taking this in before launching into speech.

'But, Parvon, the ship…'

'…sails in less than an hour, yes, I am aware of the fact. It is rather fortunate that Triwathon has been invited to work with the hunters of Ash Grove, and as you have admirably demonstrated in the short time that I have been here, you are in dire need of a Chief Advisor…'

'What are you saying? What do you mean, Parvon? Are you…?'

'I am saying, my prince, in my capacity as formal envoy from your royal father, that the starlight gemstone of the fallen Lord of the House of Gondolin will be seen by the King of Gondor only with full permission, in writing and under royal seal, and he will have to come here if he wishes to pay his respects. It is profoundly unlikely that he will be required to speak his memories, however, as the gemstone needs to be offered in the relevant closing ritual presently, and then go back to Eryn Lasgalen when the Elvenking commands its return. I hope that is quite clear?'

'I… No, not in the slightest, Parvon, what…?' Legolas lifted his head, called out to someone out of Parvon's eye-line. 'Triwathon? Do you know anything about this?'

'About what, my prince?' Triw came to Parvon's side, took his hand. 'Sorry I've been a while; you know, this ship is very nicely fitted out, but… does he know, yet?'

'Yes, but he seems to be struggling with the reality of it.'

'If by that, you mean do I know that Parvon will not permit me to send the Starlight Gemstone to Gondor without my father's consent, I fail to understand…'

'What? But that would not be right, my prince! Parvon, if this is so, then you have done absolutely the right thing; you know how such an act would be received in certain quarters; the elk-tamers would be furious, and even our hunter friends would feel it as a betrayal…'

'No! Not that! We have discussed the matter, but that's…' Legolas grimaced and tried to push his hand through his hair, catching his braids. 'Ai! Are you wilfully misunderstanding me, both of you? Triwathon, your husband has just announced that he will stay in Ithilien until either my father gives permission for the stone to go to Gondor, or until it is sent back to Eryn Lasgalen… but the ship is sailing soon and…'

'Oh, indeed, yes, I know the ship sails with the tide. Parvon and I are staying for longer than the time it takes to carry messages to the Old Palace, did you hear? Ash Grove hunters have asked me to work with them, and Parvon is your new Advisor-in-Chief…'

'Is he?'

'Why, yes; Advisor Daehel does not mind. And, look, they gifted him Ithilien formal robes, so it is quite official.'

'And his first act as my Chief Elf is to tell me I must offend the king of the land in which I am living by not allowing him to speak his memories to the gemstone?'

'Why would this king person be offended, unless you have promised him sight of the stone already, and can there have been time for that?' Triwathon asked, glancing at Parvon with innocent eyes dancing. 'Would he even know what to do with it? Besides, better to offend one individual Man than to betray the beliefs and rituals of your Silvans, surely?'

'I… Oh, very well! I will hawk a message to Adar on the morrow. Meanwhile, Parvon, if it is true, and you have decided to accept employment here…'

'It is indeed, my prince, and the first order of business will be some reconstruction work on the formal offices; we will need to let a doorway into the wall between the interview office and the main work room, and there are one or two other…'

'Tomorrow, Parvon. Bring me a list of what you think you'll need.'

'I will look forward to presenting it to you, ernilen.'

Legolas sighed. 'I'm sure you will. And while I am very glad you will stay, Parvon – both of you – is it not rather an extreme way of ensuring I don't send the gemstone into unworthy hands?'

'Even if that were the only reason, my prince, it would be reason enough. However, it is as much to do with making room on the ship for the elves who were stranded in the Brown Lands as anything else; really, this change of route, this new canal that was opened up, and you knew of it, but did not seek to tell your father – do you see what it has led to?'

'I do indeed, Parvon – I have gained an experienced advisor and Govon has acquired the best help he possibly could wish for with his hunters! But it is a little early for you to begin scolding – the care of the gemstone aside, you are not officially working for me yet…'

'True. In which case, ernilen, I will excuse myself from your presence; I need to speak to Master Thindorion, while I have the chance.'

Now lanterns were being lit across the ship, and on the quayside, points of glowing orange and yellow and white to brighten the darkening decks. Around the vessel, mariners were setting all to rights, readying the ship for her voyage and calling out to one another. A bell rang, twice, and a voice lifted up to call the half hour to casting-off.

Seeing Thindo and Magorion emerging from the gloom of a below-decks stair, Parvon hailed them. Thindo waved, beckoning towards his cabin once more.

'We'd best not come in,' Parvon said, shaking his head. 'Too easy to lose track of time and then what? Swim to the bank?'

Thindo grinned. 'No, Harlond's not that far; they'd put you off there. Come to think of it, you could do that, spend one night aboard and then get horses back?'

'Don't put ideas into my husband's head, I beg you!' Triw said, laughing and nervous. 'I am promised to lead archery practice in the morning!'

'Well, you can't let your friends down, can you?'

'I wish… we wish you weren't going, Thindo,' Triw said. 'But we will follow.'

'I almost wish we were staying,' Thindorion replied. 'But for me, it's still the right time. And besides, if we do not sail, who will take Parvon's letter for him?'

'Did you tell him we were married?' Triw asked.

'Of course; I know my brother will be pleased for us.' Parvon said, his voice strained as the emotion of it filled him again. 'Our friend here will be able to tell him all the details.'

'That's a kind thing to do, Thindo. If you should see… anyone I might know… tell them I'm happier now than I ever was then.'

'It's been good to see you joyous, Little-Elkling. Now, Parvon – where is this letter? There, thank you.' Thindorion tucked the sealed missive into his tunic. 'I shall do my best to get it to him, even if I have to wait on Mandos' doorstep shouting for him to come out. So, I suppose it's time to hug and cry and be brave about all this. At least we're parting by choice and we know each of us will be looked after by someone who cares.'

The call came for all those not sailing to disembark, and Parvon and Triwathon did, indeed, hug their friends, although Parvon and Magorion left the crying to their respective beloveds. After a long moment, the two old, old friends broke apart, and Parvon took Triw into his own arms to comfort him.

'Farewell, Master Thindorion, and my deep gratitude for your friendship.'

'And you for yours, and your forbearance with my bad manners…! Ai, it will not be the same without the pair of you!'

'Goodbye, Thindo!' Triw managed. 'Be…be well.'

They hurried down the gangplank just as the mariners gathered to cast off, and into a little cluster of hunters, waiting to receive their new captain and friend, and there were murmurs of welcome for Parvon himself that made him feel less of an intruder. The sounds of last preparations on the ship were loud on the evening air, and the lamps shone out across the decks, in the rigging. Finally, the sails swelled and billowed in the sharp, brisk air, and a sound went up that mingled cheers from the Men and a soft keening from the hunters. From somewhere a voice lifted in a new rendering of a traditional song, no longer a rousing marching tune, but a soft, haunting lament:

'Silvans heading home,

Silvans heading home

Sailing to their future

In Ancient Elvenhome…'

The cheers died down as the song continued, building and rising as more and more voices joined the simple tune, singing the ship on its way until not even elven eyes could distinguish its sails and lanterns against the darkening skies.

The lament ceased. Around Parvon, a soft, collective sigh rose from the hunters. He squeezed Triwathon's hand.

'Ready to go home with someone who cares?' he said.