Anita and Gerard rounded a corner and stopped dead. "It's Ronin!" Gerard whispered, relieved, as he spotted his friend sitting at a table alone.

"I can see that," Anita answered peevishly, yet she failed to keep the happiness out of her voice. He wasn't dead!
They sauntered forward, dodging drunken patrons and stepping around overturned chairs. "Ronin, I'm so glad we found you!" Anita said to him as she sat down next to him. She flicked away her red bangs and shook her head at the dazed look in the Prince's eyes. "Ronin, what have you been doing?" she asked in a concerned voice. She knew already however, as she spotted a large, empty mug sitting in front of the Prince. "Oh no," she sighed.

Gerard sat down at the table heavily. "Can't leave you alone for one second, can we old boy?" he muttered.

Anita held a hand to Ronin's forehead. "He's heating up. He must have downed it all in three gulps."

Ronin put a puzzled look on his face when his two friends came over.
"You know, I have a couple of friends who look just like you guys," he said, smiling. He laughed at the look that came across their faces. "I'm only kidding! It's so nice of you to join me! Here let me order you an ale, Gerard, you'll love it! I'd get you one, too, Anita, but you're a little too young."

Gerard leaned forward, almost interested, but Anita put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're only a year older than me, Ronin, and Gerard, I'd cut off my hand before I would let you drink that poison.

"I wasn't really serious, sister dearest," Gerard said, peeling her hand from his shoulder.

Anita turned once more to the tipsy prince. "What did you tell that barmaid?"

Gerard looked puzzled. "What barmaid?"

Anita smirked. "I'm surprised you didn't notice her, brother dearest," she mocked. "She was quite a pretty thing, but I guess your oblivious side got in the way."

Gerard looked hurt, yet slightly interested. "Oh, that barmaid," he said with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"Well she asked me for my name, so I told her," Ronin answered, obviously not seeing the seriousness of that revelation. "I think she rather fancied me, but of course I would have to refuse her. I'm too in love with you, Anita!"
Without waiting for a response, he stood up and pulled his ornate room key from his pocket.
"Shall we head back to my room? All of a sudden, I'm feeling rather tired. And I'm sure you two must be as well, chasing after me like you did," he laughed loudly, drawing the eyes of a few men sitting nearby.

Anita gasped as Ronin stood up.

"Honestly. You mean you didn't know?" Gerard blurted. Anita was silent. When Gerard saw the disapproving expressions of a few gruff-looking men a few tables over, Gerard took Ronin by the shoulders and smiled knowingly. "One too many ales. This way friend."
The trio walked on to Ronin's room, with Anita looking rather stunned, the Prince grinning goofily, and Gerard shaking his head coolly.
Once inside the room, Anita sat down in a wicker chair, hands in her lap and eyes staring blankly.
"Oh really, come off it!" Gerard waved his hand at her, clearly irritated.

Ronin sat down on his bed when he got in the room, tossing the key onto the bedside table.
"If you'll both excuse me, I think I'm going to sleep for a while," he said. He flopped backwards rather dramatically and fell asleep almost instantly.

Tirithiel left her master's room, hearing the familiar click of the door being locked behind her. She was debating in her mind whether or not she should tell the kind boy that her master had taken an interest in him. If he was the Prince of Hunvel, surely her master had plans to kill or capture him, and if he wasn't, her master wouldn't take the news too kindly. She walked back to the bar, mulling it all over.
"Tiri!" someone called to her. She looked over and saw it was one of Authon's associates, obviously drunk despite the fact that he was supposed to be on guard duty.
"What is it?" she asked, annoyed that he had to deal with her.
"That boy you were talking to left a minute ago with some others. A boy with red hair and a girl too."
"Oh, him. Master said he doesn't care about him," she lied craftily.
"Right then."
"Listen, why don't you head back to your room and I'll take over your guard shift?"
He nodded gruffly and left, taking his mug of ale with him as well.
Tirithiel sat down at a table and idly watched the customers of the inn eating and talking merrily, wondering if she should attempt to find the "Prince" Ronin and warn him, or to just go about her own business until she saw him again.

Gerard sighed and turned to Anita. "Can you stay here? I'm going to go look around for that barmaid. She…uh, might be a spy of Authon's."

Anita just shook her head. "Right." The word was sarcastic and very drawn out.

Gerard just kissed her on the cheek and smiled his charming little half smile. He locked the door behind him and sauntered around the inn. He happened to notice a pretty girl---woman, he thought dreamily---sitting at a table. Though he didn't know if she were the barmaid in question, he sat down across from her.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked smoothly, assuming his half smile once more.

"Yeah, go ahead," Tirithiel said, not sparing a glance at who had asked. She waved her hand absent-mindedly as though to grant him permission while at the same time brush off his company.
Now what about that boy with the red hair? she thought. I wonder who that could be. Haven't seen many red heads at all for a long while.
Her eyes scanned the crowd before her as she thought and she brushed a stray piece of her light brown hair behind her ear.

Gerard tilted his head and thanked a passing barmaid as she placed a bowl of thick stew before him. He picked up a spoon and stirred it around, looking at the girl across from him; she was peering busily around the room.
"Are you looking for someone?" he asked as he ate a stringy piece of meat.
There was no answer; maybe she hadn't heard. Gerard shrugged it off. "My name is Geran, by the way," he lied. He had no reason for subterfuge with the pretty barmaid, however his father's name simply slipped out.
"Do you have a name, or are you simply called 'Hey, miss'?" he asked with a small smile. Let's see if we can get her to talk, he thought to himself.

It was only after she realized that the boy who had sat next to her was talking to her that Tirithiel looked over. She nearly gasped, but managed to remain cool. He has red hair! It's got to be him. It took her a moment to register what he had said.
"Yes, I do have a name," she said, mildly annoyed. "I'm Tirithiel. Do you come to this bar often, Geran, trying to court young girls? I've never seen you here before, though I do normally work the early shift. Most of the flirts don't come until later."
She smiled warmly, but there was a challenge and a threat in her words.

"Court?" Gerard exclaimed mildly. "Idle chit chat has changed I see."
He took a drink and smiled. "I suppose a country bumble like me doesn't belong in such a big bar. I saw you feeding my sick friend ale. It's not good for his condition. He honestly thinks he's a Prince, you know?" He raised his mug again and smirked inside of it, but when he set it down, his face was earnest and concerned. "Please don't tell anyone he's here. He has a bad reaction to ale; I wouldn't want to scare off you patrons."

"So he is sick then? He looked fine to me, but I suppose I am not a healer. Just a common barmaid," she said as she smirked to herself, remembering the time she had gone under the guise of a healer once again to gather information for Authon. "Please tell him that I hope he gets better soon."
Her words were sincere enough, but in the back of her mind she wondered if she really trusted this boy. Whether I do or not, I have been commanded to gather information on this "Ronin." Although he didn't seem drunk enough to imagine he was a Prince.

Gerard thought back to what she had said earlier. "'Court young girls.' It's strange that you say that, for you look about my age. You make it sound as if I was some venerable old man." He laughed deeply and held out his hand. She probably won't even shake it, he thought, but he extended it jovially anyhow. "It's nice to meet you Tirithiel."

"Looks can be deceiving. That is one thing I have learned working here," she said, and she looked questionably at his hand. Finally, she extended her own and shook his briefly before pulling back.
You should leave now, a voice in the back of her head told her. Don't get too attached! But she silenced it quickly.

Gerard chuckled, then he saw a hesitant look on the girl's face and cocked his head. "Is something wrong?" Gerard asked quietly.

"Oh no, nothing," Tirithiel answered, now obviously flustered. "I was just thinking that it was getting late and perhaps I should be heading back to my room or something."

Gerard frowned. "Yes, I see. You have your work to be getting to," he said.

Tirithiel blushed. "Well, what I meant was that my father would be disappointed if he saw me sitting alone with a boy, and he has friends who come here often. They would pass the word along. So it was nice chatting with you and all, but I must go." She got up from her seat, but waited for just a moment, to see if he would stop her.

"That's a shame." Gerard said, truthfully disappointed. "I'd ask you to stay, but I don't want to get you in trouble. Nothing worse than an angry fath---" He couldn't bring himself to finish the phrase, as he felt a wave of guilt and homesickness wash over him.
Gerard suddenly grinned. "I thought about kissing you goodbye on the cheek, but I remembered that it's the thought that counts so I just thought about it. It's been wonderful, good luck with your father and nice hair!" He said the mouthful in a comic spiel and ended with a curt salute, then kissed her hand and spun around to walk rather quickly back to his room.

The morning sun rose slowly over Hunvel, as though dreading the painful discoveries that daylight would bring. The unknowing Elves of Hunvel woke with the sun normally, busying themselves with their cheerful garden work and crafts.
Hiranneth arose to the sound of birds, but she felt something was out of place. She wrapped herself in a soft white robe and walked out onto her bedroom balcony. Kiran was still asleep in bed, but as the sunlight streamed onto his face he stirred and muttered something. Hiranneth turned and watched as he covered his head, still grunting about the sunlight. Her gaze was suddenly taken off her husband and onto an Elf maid that was hastening toward the palace. In her worry, the Elf did not notice the Lady Hiranneth watching curiously from her balcony. The maiden stopped short just before entering the living quarters of the palace.
"What am I to do?" the Elf wondered sadly under her breathe.
Hiranneth made her way down the stairs and opened the front door. The Elf was surprised at her sudden appearance.
"My Lady…."
"Yes?" Hiranneth asked softly.
"When I went to clean your sons' rooms, they were not there."
Hiranneth did not think anything of it at first, "They probably went out to hunt. They did the other day."
The Elf maid looked down. "My Lady, their beds looked as though they had not been slept in. I've inquired everywhere and heard nothing of their whereabouts. And what I've heard about Authon---"
Hiranneth stopped her. "You will not speak of him right now. It is a rumor, and nothing more."
The maid became restless. "But my Lady, please! I found this." She handed Hiranneth something small and then walked off quickly.
Hiranneth held up the small object in her hand; it was a folded paper note. Unfolding the note, Hiranneth began to read Ronin's scribbled handwriting. Her eyes widened and tears began to fill in them as she ran up the stairs back to her bedroom. Kiran was still mumbling under the blankets when she rushed into the room. Hiranneth ran over to the bed and shook her husband. "Kiran, the children! They are gone!"

The city was in full search of anything regarding the missing Princes. Despite the reassurance that the most thorough procedures were being taken to find them, Hiranneth had been edgy all morning, worried senseless about her sons. Kiran was just as apprehensive not knowing the whereabouts of his children, but he was trying to keep his composure as much as he could.

Too troubled to eat, Hiranneth was pacing about the palace gardens that morning while Kiran watched uneasily nearby, talking with a guard of the city gates.

Hiranneth's face momentarily brightened when she saw Leeum and Ahéawan heading her direction. However, her smile soon faded. Their steps were heavy, and their eyes downcast.

As Ahéawan approached, Hiranneth could see she her face was tear-stained and worry-stricken. She looked as though she had aged twenty years overnight. "Hiranneth," Ahéawan said as she approached, "my Laurëa is gone...She's gone."
Leeum held Ahéawan as she cried onto his shoulder, his face also looking aged. "Her room was askew and some clothing were taken," he said slowly. "I did not see any other signs of a struggle; I would have woken up if she screamed…" He looked helpless as he searched the Lord and Lady's faces.

Kiran looked at Leeum strangely. "Do you think your daughter is with our sons?

Leeum pursed his lips and nodded a slow but simple yes and returned to comforting his wife.

Geran came running up the gentle slope towards his King and Queen. "My children are gone as well, your Majesties. They left this," he said breathlessly, his red hair askew and looking as though he had just awoken.

Hiranneth grabbed the note unthinkingly. She read it aloud, in a cracking voice, eyes filled with tears. "Father, Ronin has run away. I have left to follow him, for I am worried for his safety, but as his most trusted friend, I couldn't tell anyone. If Anita follows me, don't worry. I'll look after her." It was scrawled hurriedly in black ink, and as the Queen read it, her voice faltered. As Geran just shook his head, Hiranneth let out a cry of despair. "Why would they leave us?"