Chapter One

Eric

North of Bree, near Fornost, encircled by the hills of Evendium, there lay there lay a small part of the world that was not frequently visited, by Shire folk or any other. In the southeast corner of this country, just north of Fornost, an estate was nestled against the foot of the hills. The extensive grounds were completely surrounded by a high, stone wall. The mansion that the estate was built around had thick walls, a slightly more modern look than most of the castles and estates in the region.

Although the bright, fall colors, and the crisp, calm air suggested a peaceful atmosphere, not all was as it seemed. Within the mansion, raised voices echoed down the hallways, causing all servants in the vicinity of the drawing room to creep away leaving their chores for later. The cozy room, currently warmed by a crackling fire, was normally a peaceful, cheerful room. At the moment, however, the atmosphere was more akin with a thunderstorm, than with the gentle day outside.

"I won't do it!" Serian shouted, her green eyes flashing with anger. "I won't marry him!" Her parents, Ianis and Sera were fuming.

"You will marry him, and that is final!" her father shouted back, as he clenched his hand into a fist. Her mother's more gentle face was streaked with tears. Serian wasn't sure if they were angry tears, or sad tears.

"Serian," her mother said, trying to calm things down, "it is very important that you marry Eric. He is such a nice young man, and I think you will get along splendidly."

"I don't care," Serian shouted again, ignoring her mother's attempts to diffuse the argument. "I won't marry someone that I have never met before, and don't love!" With a loud bang, Serian threw the door open and stormed out of the room, leaving her mother sobbing, and her father looking like he wanted to break something. Serian hurried up to her room and stepped out of her dress and slippers. Quickly, she changed into a cotton shirt and pants, and her favorite sheepskin boots. Fastening her cloak around her shoulders, she exited her room and hurried to the stables. Her white horse, Swan, nickered when she saw Serian.

Quickly, Serian brushed Swan and checked her hooves. As she groomed Swan, Serian poured her troubles into Swan's steady, soft ears. "I'm not a little girl, anymore. I'm almost eighteen! I think I can be trusted to chose my own husband." As Serian carefully fitted a light bridle over the horse's head, Swan nuzzled her cheek gently with her soft nose. Serian smiled slightly and gently kissed the velvety muzzle. Leading Swan out into the sunshine, she mounted her bareback. At a brisk trot, they left the stables and headed toward her secret riding area. By the time they arrived, Swan was warmed up enough to go faster. Serian nudged Swan with her knees, and they took off across the plain at a dead gallop.

As the two of them flew through the space between the air and the ground, Serian simply concentrated on the feel of Swan's muscles rippling beneath her, and the feel of the wind as it blew her hair back from her face. As the ride went on, sometimes at a trot, and sometimes at a dead gallop, Serian allowed her anger and frustration to seep out of her, and blow away in the wind.

When she returned, a carriage sat in front of the mansion doorway. She glared at it, then slipped in the kitchen door. The cook looked up at her as she entered. Serian gave her a look that told her not to say a word. She already knew what she was going to say; her parents wanted her to change her clothes and come to the drawing room as soon as possible.

With a sigh, Serian returned to her room and changed into the sky-blue dress with silver lining that had been laid out on her bed for her. She quickly brushed her long, fair hair, and pulled it back into a simple, yet elegant bun on top of her head. Then, she headed down to the drawing room.

Her parents were waiting there with a young man and his parents. Serian tried to look demur, but it was so hard. Although her frustration and anger had been calmed a bit while she was outside, now that she was back in the mansion both emotions were growing hot again. The young man stood, bowed. It was a well-practiced bow, that seemed to convey a mixture of stiff nervousness, and eager elegance. "My lady, I have the great pleasure of being Eric, Prince of Fornost."

Serian's mother caught her eye, and with a barely concealed sigh, Serian curtsied and offered her hand for the prince to take. He smiled and kissed her hand, then led her to sit on the near-by sofa. His smile reached all the way to his blue-grey eyes, and made them sparkle. Serian's parents and Eric's wandered off to talk together, leaving Serian and Eric together. "So," Serian began awkwardly, trying to fill the silence left by the grown-ups retreat. "What activities do you like to fill your spare time with?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing too exciting," Eric replied, carefully brushing a piece of his light brown hair off his sleeve. "Our library is quite extensive, and I have set myself to learn at least one foreign language before the year is out. Then, of course there is history. I find the history of Gondor and the tragic lives of it's kings to be quite enjoyable. Then of course…" Serian barely suppressed a yawn, hoping that Eric wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, he did. "I'm sorry, how terribly rude. Father says that I tend to ramble on when it comes to history an my books. What do you enjoy doing?"

Serian sent him a grateful smile, "I enjoy riding my horse, Swan. I love to go on long walks in the fields and through the hills, I know every rock and tree around here."

"Oh, you love the outdoors then. Father says that I should spend less time reading and more time outside. Do you enjoy the piano or the harp?"

Serian shuddered inwardly, "No. At least not really. I'm not very good."

"Serian!" her mother called from the other side of the room, happily cutting short the uncomfortable conversation. "We just had the best idea; your birthday is coming up next week, why don't we have a ball to celebrate. It will give Eric a chance to get to know some of your friends."

"Yes, mother, that is a wonderful idea." Serian said politely, even though she thought it was a terrible idea. She hated balls, and all the stuffy women and men who came. The only thing that had made past balls even bearable, was when her best friend was there. Unfortunately, Tawariell was away on a trip so she would not be able to attend this ball. Suddenly, Serian's eyes lit up with genuine excitement. She had just found her chance.