Part 1

Eowyn frowned. “How could anyone abandon such a sweet little—” She stopped herself, aware that the elfling’s eyes were upon her. “He is so wet, Lassui,” she said. “We had better get him home straightaway.”

“Oh, melmenya!” Legolas shook his head, smiling fondly. “We cannot just take him home.”

“Why not? That is what the note says.”

“He is not a Yuletide gift, my darling.”

“But we cannot leave him here!”

“No.” Absently, Legolas picked up the child’s waterskin and pulled out the cork. “But we must make some effort to find his parents.” He handed the skin to the boy.

Melannen took a drink then offered it to Eowyn. “Would you like some?”

“Thank you,”—she raised the skin to her lips—“Melannen! You speak Westron!”

The child nodded.

“You clever boy!” She gave him a little hug; then she took a sip, and handed the skin to Legolas.

Melannen smiled up at her, proudly.

Legolas, meanwhile, having drunk from the waterskin, re-corked it, and put it back in the child’s basket. “Come, melmenya,” he said. “We will follow Melannen’s footprints back to wherever he came from and, with luck…” He saw the disappointment on Eowyn’s face, and laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

“It is getting so late, Lassui,” she pleaded, “and—oh…” She yawned.

“There is still enough light, my darling. And we must make absolutely sure.”

Eowyn covered her mouth and, yawning again, nodded reluctantly.

“Goodness,” said Legolas. “You are making me feel tired!”