When Gil-Galad was twelve he decided it was time to find out about the facts of life.
“Who's really my father?”
Maedhros looked up from the map he was studying. “Why do you ask?”
“I know Fingon’s not my father, and you know it too. So who is?”
“Unimportant.”
“My father is some random nobody?”
“Most likely, but that’s not what I meant. Who really fathered you is far less important than who people believe did so.”