"Mother," Elros said as he looked up from the soup he was, well, dripping with. "What does illegitimate mean?" he asked, stumbling over the large word.

That was the one question Melannen had been trying to avoid for the past nine years, but she knew that it was inevitable. "Why do you ask?" Elros pretended not to notice. "Elros, why do you ask so suddenly?"

He moved the cheese in his soup around with his spoon, "Some of the other kids, they call me that sometimes." His large blue eyes looked up from his soup and drilled into Melannen's head.

"It means . . . . it means that . . ."

"Mother, you can say it, whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

Melannen nodded, "Very true. I means, Elros that when you were born I was not married to your father."

The young Elfling thought about that for a moment, turning the idea over in his head. "But isn't Glorfindel my father?"

Melannen shook her head, "No, ion nin. Glorfindel is not your father."

"Then who is?"

Melannen felt her stomach roll and she felt nauseous. She wasn't sure whether or not to tell Elros that he was a prince, so she changed her wording slightly. "Your father was one of the great Elven warriors in the old stories, the ones you like so much. He was one of those valiant Elves, though he was killed in battle."

"Mother, tell me the truth, I know you're lying!" Elros said, annoyed.

Melannen fought back tears, but soon they began to leak from her eyes. "Elros, please, not now. I don't feel very well." She stood up and went quickly to her room and shut the door.

Elros got up a minute or so later and opened the door slightly to see his mother laying on her bed, sobbing. He went in and sat beside her.

"I'm sorry."

"Elros, it isn't your fault, not at all."

The Elfling sat in his mother's lap and hugged her tightly, "It's all right, everything is going to get better."

Elros had finally gotten an answer, though vague and riddled with inadequacies. His father was dead. Though it wasn't a very nice thought, it was something. He thought as he kicked a small stone.

The road which he was walking down had high stone walls on either side and was somewhat dark and gloomy. He had gone with his mother to Bree for a day or two, she tended to spend time there whenever something bothered her. Though now he had wandered down a path and had gotten lost.

Suddenly the Elfling heard a crash behind him, Elros whirled around to see seven mean looking boys with knives coming at him. He, being unarmed and alone, took off running in the other direction. Though he was far swifter than the mortals, he reached a dead end and he could see no way out.

The leader of the posse approached him. "I think you look lost." He said, sniggering.

Elros glared at him, "No, I think not."

He turned to the group, "I think the Elf is lost!"

"How long has it been since you stopped searching for your brain?" Elros said challengingly, he wasn't one to give up that easily.

The large boy turned on him and went to punch the young Elf, but Elros was too fast and he was able to duck and knock the boy off of his feet. The rest held back laughter but held out their daggers menacingly. Just as one was about to attack the unarmed Elf, they heard a stern voice behind them.

"Leave him be." They turned to see a dark stranger in a hooded cloak, an arrow cocked in his bow. "Just because you feel inferior doesn't give you the right to attack an unarmed Elf child."

"Why should we care what you say?" the largest boy asked, but before he could finish his sentence, an arrow whizzed past his head and embedded itself in the cracks of the stone.

"That's why. Now get moving." The boys darted in every direction and soon had disappeared.

Elros bowed his head in respect, "Thank you sir."

"You should be more careful next time, what are you doing here alone anyway?" the stranger asked.

"My mother is at the Inn, drowning her sorrows."

He nodded, "Well, the Inn is better than out here." He said, turning to leave.

"Actually, sir, I have gotten lost and I do not know where the Inn is. I was searching for it when those scoundrels attacked me."

"Follow me." he said curtly. Elros hurried after him.

Soon the stranger led Elros to the Prancing Pony and decided that he himself might as well drown his sorrows in a pint, or gallon considering the number of sorrows he would be drowning.

Elros dashed in and found his mother sitting at a table, looking depressed. "Mother, you should not drink yourself sick, I am sure there are other ways."

Melannen smiled, "You are right, Elros. Though this seems the fastest method." She smiled at her son. "Where were you?"

Elros exhaled deeply, his mother wasn't going to like this. "A few boys decided to try and beat me up but a stranger scared them off."

"Elros! I thought I told you to stay within sight of the Inn!"

"You did."

Melannen shook her head, "What do you mean though, he scared them off? Was he a big fellow or something?"

"No, actually he was quite tall and lean and had an amazing aim with a bow."

Melannen felt sick again, she took a deep swallow of her ale. "Did he now?"

"Yes, actually," Elros spotted the man sitting in the corner of the room, "That is him there." He pointed to the cloaked figure.

"I think it is wise for me to thank him, you can come if you wish." She stood up and walked over to the man. "Sir, I would like to thank you for helping my son."

He looked up and seemed to study her intently. "I know you."

"I do not think so."

He set down his drink, "I do. You are Melannen, I am quite sure."

"How do you know?"

"We where friends once, long ago." He said sadly.

Melannen looked at him, "I am afraid not." He was drunk and she preferred to keep her son away from such men. She took Elros' hand and led him away.

"Meow."

Melannen whirled, "What?" he pretended not to hear her. She turned to leave once more.

"Do you really think that wise?" He asked once her back was to him.

She turned around again, that voice. She knew that voice.