Minas Tirith, T.A. 3009

"How dare you?" Amanoir Thorongial looked at his son, Lieunoir, his eyes filled with disgust. "Father, please, you have to accept who I am, I have not changed, I'm still your son." "You are not worth it, to be my son." replied Amanoir, grabbing his son's throat, "You are nothing more but a useless, filthy, daydreaming abomination of man-kind." Amanoir released Lieunoir from his grasp, and pushed him out of the door, on the street. "I do not allow you to enter through this door again, not until you can prove to me that you are a man." Lieunoir looked at his hand, and spoke indirectly to his father. "If that is what you wish, my Lord, then I will not be your son. I warn you though, one day, my words and dreams will become reality, and then, my Father, I will show you no mercy, just like you have shown me no mercy this day, and all days before. I will grow up, I will become strong, and wise. Father... farewell." Lieunoir, that day, was broken, and bent. His uncle, Esnaldeth Thorongial, offered him to live with him and his daugther, Saeldith, but he refused. Instead, he lived in the library, together with the old librarian. He soon found out that he had a passion in cooking, taking care of the old man, whose life withered away, dying he was. It did not take long before the last tendrils of life flooded out of him. The death of the old man struck Lieunoir, as a dagger in the chest. After the funeral, Lieunor visited his uncle, who now lived alone, he said, "Lieunoir, Minas Tirith has brought you nothing more but grief, go, and move on to Bree, Saeldith would be happy to see you again." And so he did, Lieunoir moved to Bree, not knowing what to expect in that far-away land...