The news came early in the morn that day of what had happened. Coming with tears still fresh in their eyes, the messengers told of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad*. I thought the name very true for many of our people felt the pain of that battle, I myself included.

"He fought very valiantly, Ereinion*, one does not easily defeat a Balrog, let alone Gothmog*." That seemed all everyone could tell me, how brave he was, how well he fought, how he slew the mighty Gothmog. No one ever said clear to my face, your father is dead.

I had not seen my father in what seemed ages, he sent me to the havens when I was a child to protect me. My mother had been killed in one of the many battles of that age, maybe that was why he sent me.

"Cirdan will keep you well, do not worry my son. When Morgoth is defeated, we will be reunited and peace will come to our people." He had told me gently. I was so young, I didn't truly understand the concept of war and death, of kingship and ruling. I understood the concept of family, though. I didn't know why my father was sending me away.

I had spent three short years with my mother and eight with my father. In the time of elves, these years would go by in the blink of an eye. And they did. More than half of my life had been spent without the feel of family. More than half of my life had been spent waiting for news that the wars were over, that Morgoth was dead and I could see my father again. Instead, I learned that the many alliances formed to do just that, were in vain and Morgoth remained undefeated.

Cirdan looked out for me and kept me safe, bound to a promise he made to my father. But he was not kin. Not to me.

Being 26 when this happened, I was considered too young by the elves to rule, so my uncle took up the crown. But Morgoth came to know of Gondolin, the city unknown to many where Turgon, my uncle dwelt, through the torture of Maeglin. Gondolin fell and with it, my uncle. I was unaware of any family of mine that still lived existing beyond him when I took up the crown. I did not know of my cousin Idril* or her husband...or their son. It was a short while ere Tuor* grew weary of the mouths of Sirion*, where I dwelt as well, and sailed to the west. When they sailed west, Idril and Tuors son took up lordship of Sirion. Earendil, he was called. It was shortly before he went to sail west that I learned of our relation. But I never truly came to know him because he sought the help of the Valar against Morgoth. I grew to dislike him though, despite his valiant effort. Earendil left behind a wife and two children. When Maglor* sacked the mouths of Sirion to find the Silmaril bound to Elwing, Earendils wife, she was forced to leave their children as well.

I lost track of the boys* then in the commotion, but fortunately, I stumbled upon them when many were fleeing the city. They were hiding in a cave, but I heard splashing. The younger one, Elros, was playing in the water near a waterfall even as his brother tried to silence him.

"Peredhil?" Elrond looked up from his brother, a panicked look was in his eye.

"Run Elros!" He shouted to his little brother.

"Wait, I am not under Maglors command, nor am I bound to their greed for the Silmarils." Elrond looked up from his sopping brother and finally noticed who I was.

"King Ereinion!" He exclaimed happily. Elrond brought his brother from the waters and came to me, a smile filled with great weariness covered his face. "I thought you might have been slain in the sacking."

"You have little faith in your King." I smiled down at the child who began to shake with cold as did his brother.

"Come, let us get you some dry clothing and perhaps some food and drink." I brought them both into my arms and carried them from the cave. I was amazed at how light they were to bare. They were tired, and obviously had gone without food for days, so I took it upon myself to watch over the two children, just until they were strong enough to care for themselves, of course.



Nirnaeth Arnoediad* was the battle which the Noldor, allied with the Edain attempted to overthrow Morgoth, but did not succeed. It means unnumbered tears or the battle of unnumbered tears. During this battle, Erenion*s, the name Gil-galad was actually first given, father was killed by Gothmog*, the lord of Balrog demons.

Idril* was the daughter of Turgon, making her Gil-galads cousin. She married Tuor, A messenger(with a whole big back story that is not all that important to Gil-galad at the moment, so I'm not gonna say anything about him.) The had a son named Earendil the mariner. Idril and Tuor were half- elven, so therefor Earendil was as well. He married Elwing who was also half-elven making their sons half-elven as well.

The Boys* of Earendil and Elwing were technically closer to 50 years of age when the sack of the mouths of Sirion occurred.(all dates according to the encyclopedia of arda) Phew.

Any mistakes, which I'm sure there are many, I'm sorry for but I'm trying to keep this all straight for the sake of a semi-good Gil-galad fic.

I've taken some poetic license with this fic because I had to, I have found no info on Gil-galads mother, I dunno, he just popped out of thin air :)

I know this is lots of history, but I had to throw it in to show that he was pretty much alone for most of his life.