[Imladris]

Finian had not forgotten about the burnt boy and had been glancing to make sure he had been taken care of all the while. He grinned when he saw that Rochadan had been conversing with him. He drummed his fingers upon the counter, one eyebrow cocked upwards. The boy seemed to be rather parentless or guardianless which was a shame. He seemed to be a cute little fellow. But they could use some help around the stable and the inn proper. The boy would not have to do heavy labour.

Of course, he would have to see into the boy's true state of affairs but for now there was the brewing of an excellent plan.

Finian sauntered down the room and was about to ask the boy about his parents and all that when the door flew open and the first boy came dashing back into the inn. Shortly behind him came another man who stormed through the door.

Harstan

Finian leaned his elbow on the back of the injured boy's chair, assumed a menacing slouch, and narrowed his eyes at the slime that called itself a man. So he was the boy's master, eh? Then the boy was definately staying here.