Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings

Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction story! Please R & R and no flames, please.

Chapter 1

This story begins in a place called Middle Earth during the third age in a little town called Bree which lay between Rivendell and the Shire. Mainly humans lived in Bree and rarely did any travel farther than they would, as they felt safe within their borders. They did trade occasionally with other folk but were content to keep to themselves for the most part.

One of the livelier places in Bree was an establishment called The Prancing Pony. It was a tavern and inn where all were welcome. It could be a rough place if one did not watch his step. The proprietor, however, was a kindly man who had no family of his own save his brother, who owned the livery, and his nephew who was sometimes a bit too mischievous for his own good. The boy's name was Seth Colton. He was 16 years old, about 5 feet 10 inches tall with dirty blonde hair that always seemed to find itself in his eyes. Still, he was a good-looking young man who worked hard to help his father with the livery business.

One night at the tavern, the oldest man in the village, who was also known as The Storyteller, was in a more than usually talkative mood as he most likely had one too many pints of ale. Needless to say, he had the whole of the tavern tuned in to his story that night. This particular story was believed to be only legend and was quite intriguing to listen to. Seth's father, Yahnko, knew that what the old man was saying was, indeed, truth. The story went like this:

Long ago, the mighty elven Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin slayed an evil beast - a Balrog of Morgoth - in order to save his people from their doom. Unfortunately, Lord Glorfindel was the only survivor and that was because he actually died and was then brought back to life by the Valar.

The people of Bree admired Lord Glorfindel and it was said in the legend that parents would tattoo or brand their children with the seal/crest of Lord Glorfindel's house. The reason for doing so was that should the parents die or the inhabitants of the town be destroyed by some evil force, and if the children survived, the children could then be taken to Lord Glorfindel where he would keep them safe. The brand or tattoo meant that the child belonged to the elf lord - he or she would be the property of the Balrog slayer.

Yahnko was perhaps the last of the humans to have actually branded his son with the mark of Lord Glorfindel's house. The brand was kept hidden. Yahnko did not want his neighbors and friends to think he was crazy, after all, it was a myth and the people wondered who would be so cruel as to actually brand their own child in the first place. Seth knew what the brand meant and he had always obeyed his father by keeping it secret, even until this very night. No one knew and, as he would find out, they would never have the chance to know of its existence, for in the dark of the night after everyone had gone home and had long been in their beds, foul creatures descended upon the townsfolk and slaughtered them all, save one.

Yahnko had stirred in the night after hearing the horses panic in the livery. His gut told him something bad was about to happen. He quickly woke Seth.

"You must go to the secret hiding place and stay there until morning," his father told him urgently.

Seth begged his father to let him go with him. "But father, I want to come with you. If there is trouble, I can fight." His pleading was to no avail.

"Son, I need you to stay safe. I do not know who or what is out there and I cannot risk losing you. Please, you must do this for me."

"Very well," Seth agreed a bit unwillingly, "but be careful". Seth was to stay hidden then and wait for his father's return, yet he really did not want to hide. He wanted to fight, but he would obey his father.

Yahnko fetched his weapons and went to the livery to check on the horses. He would never return.

Seth heard many screams while in his hiding place. He smelled smoke and heard more screaming and yelling as time wore on. He wished he could help but he was frightened and wanted his father to come back to the house and tell him everything would be alright. At the same time, he wanted to rush out of the hiding place with a weapon and fight, but he promised his father he would stay hidden. By the time morning arrived, all was eerily quiet. Seth decided to stay in the hiding place a bit longer. He was afraid of what he might find upon his emergence but he knew he could not stay hidden forever.

Eventually, at about mid morning, Seth climbed out of his hiding place and hesitantly opened the front door. Many buildings and homes had burned but what he saw next he would never forget. There were bodies littering the dirt road, some lay in the doorways of their shops or homes, some with weapons beside them or clutched in their dead hands. Some of the bodies were charred. The smell of blood was overwhelming and, as he scanned the area, he noticed other bodies strewn about - bodies of the attackers. The strangers had dark hair and tanned skin, some had shaved heads and some had tattoos. He thought that these people were either the Easterlings or the Haradrim, or were they one in the same? He did not know for certain. He had heard stories of unsavory tribes and evil creatures but he had been spared any dealings with them. At least some of the townsfolk were able to dispatch a few of the enemy forces before being cut down themselves.

Seth knew he had to find his father. As he walked cautiously toward the stables, he wondered why the strangers would target the people of Bree. Who was behind the villainy? His world had been fairly safe and sheltered up until this point but there was no use trying to figure this whole thing out right here and now. He had to find his father. Trying to stay close to the buildings for cover in case any enemies remained in his town, he continued on until he reached the stables.

The doors were open and Seth crept inside. He found his father lifelessly upon the unforgiving ground, dead. Seth could see that the man fought bravely but it was not enough to save his own life. Seth knelt next to Yahnko and cried. He told his father goodbye, said a prayer for him and then dug a grave. He wrapped his father in some canvas material he found in the stable and put him in the grave which he then filled in with dirt. He piled stones atop the site so as to protect the body from ravenous animals, which would undoubtedly descend upon the scene in a few hours. With this in mind, Seth kept the burial simple, yet reverent. Yahnko had been a good man and a good father. Seth was glad his mother was not here to witness such savagery or to have succumbed to her death in such a way. She had died when he was a very young child and he did not have many memories of her except he knew that she loved him. Now, however, was not the time for such sentimentalities. Seth felt he did not have much time as his senses were on high alert and he felt almost paranoid that the enemy would return. He went back to his house to gather some supplies that he would need for his journey. He knew what he must do. He had to find Lord Glorfindel.

By the time the young man was ready to set out, it was nearly suppertime, not that it mattered much as he had no appetite. However, he would not get very far before darkness settled in. Despite this, Seth could not remain in the town surrounded by death or take the chance that the murderers would return. He was determined to make good time nonetheless. As it was, however, the town's horses were either killed, taken by the surviving attackers, or had just run away, which left Seth in a very unfortunate situation.

Seth headed east towards Rivendell, for it was rumored that Lord Glorfindel resided there. The boy had his father's sword strapped to his back and carried various bags of food and water. He had a bedroll, a rope, a cloak and a few cooking supplies. Seth carried a knife and a bow and some arrows. One could never be too prepared.

Just out of town and down the road about a mile, Seth discovered another survivor. He couldn't believe it! Not 20 yards away stood a white yearling colt that had belonged to a prominent businessman in town. Now it belonged to Seth - at least he hoped to be able to secure his rope around the animal and fashion a halter so he could lead it along with him. The yearling was thought to be a descendent of some great elvish horse and, if he truly was of elven horse blood, he needed to have an elvish name. This might prove to be an unfruitful task as Seth knew very little elvish. At the moment, they both needed to get as far away from Bree as possible. The colt was friendly and kind and was, therefore, an easy catch.

The boy and the yearling set out for Rivendell. If Lord Glorfindel was not there, Seth figured the elves should know where to find him. And so began the saga to seek out Seth's protector and rightful owner.