Rings and Roses

Chapter One

I ran through the woods at the edge of the Brandywine borders, enjoying the spring sunshine for the first time in weeks. Somehow or other, I had caught a flu earlier in the spring.

But now I was free. I could run, I could play.... but most of all I could shoot my bow and arrows and practice my sword fighting. Most of the hobbits in Hobbiton scorned me for such an attitude towards fighting, but I didn't care. I was fifteen; why should it make such a difference anyways? And besides, if I was going to keep up with Frodo and the gang, I would need to stay sharp. If that meant switching dresses and corsets for trousers and puffy shirts, and trading bows, hairpins and ribbons for USEFUL bows and arrows and swords, I was all for it.

I ran to the Brandywine River's edge and began searching for my bow, which had been crafted from the sacred tree of the elves; the Mallorn. I have to hide my bow in a certain tree so nobody could find it; to be perfectly honest, it is my prized possession. No one in the Shire had a bow such as this, no, and neither did anyone outside the Shire for all I knew. At least, that was what the elf who called himself Elrond had said. Yes, I socialize with elves. Why? I can honestly tell you that I don't know. Perhaps it is because my uncle and step brother so freely converse with them, or maybe I am just a rebel. I don't know, and I couldn't care less.

The elves are very interesting. They tell me stories of old, they show me how to shoot and fight. Mostly I would see the elves that often patrolled our borders to keep the Shire safe, but sometimes an elf from Rivendel would show up.... like the one who had given me my bow.
The arrows I had fashioned myself, save the pure silver one that had been my first. (From Elrond as well.) I fashioned all of my arrows after this make and model, yet none came close to it's standard. My uncle Bilbo would always support my decisions, even if they were a bit out of the ordinary.

Yes, I call Bilbo Baggins "uncle," even though he is not related closely. (All hobbits are technically related in some manner or other, however closely or distantly that may be.) He adopted me when I was just a halfling (which, ironically, the big folk derived from hobbits themselves. Except, we do not use this term to describe all hobbits of all ages; just the ones between the ages birth to eight.) and he took me in as a Baggins. I have used that name my entire life with him, and don't know any other.

I do not know much of my past. I only catch glimpses of it every once in a while, in nightmares. I say nightmares, because most of the memories go back to an Orc raid at night, and the sight of many mangled and distraught people crying for help. Frodo is my only comfort. He helps me through my nightmares, even when I am too terrified to explain.

I finally stopped running when I found my tree. It was an old willow, it's branches hanging far out over the water and obscuring anything that might have been on the inside.

I ducked inside the branches and walked over to the lowest branch to begin my climb. I swung up, and my feet caught a foothold. My arms reached for branch after branch, until I was a good halfway up the tree.

Suddenly, I felt a twig crack beneath me and I let out a scream, finding myself dangling by my arms.

"Help!" I screamed, though I knew no one would hear me. The branch I was hanging from slipped further. My short legs flailed helplessly, and I found myself wishing I wasn't a hobbit, but some taller creature.

Then I began to fall. I was beginning to plummet towards the water when a strong, tanned hand reached out and caught my waist. I was pulled back up through the branches, and set safely on a secure one not that much lower than the cracked.

I turned to see what had saved me, but it was merely a silhouette against the trunk.

"Hello," I squeaked.

"Hi." the slightly deeper voice of a boy replied.

"Th-thank you, for saving me," I stuttered. I mean, how do you speak casually to a shadow?

"Eh, it was nothing." he replied shortly. All of a sudden, a bird fluttered in the branches above, allowing a bit of light through to shine onto his face. I caught a glimpse of curly, light brown hair and cheerful blue eyes.

"Merry?" I questioned, leaning forward a bit to see clearer. I touched his face gently and moved my thumb against his cheek. "Meriadoc Brandybuck?"

"H-hi, Seria," he managed to stutter out. I giggled and scooted closer. The branch was wide enough for the both of us, so I was able to sit next to him without feeling like I would fall again.

Merry was one of Frodo's closest friends. And because Frodo was my adopted brother, I saw a lot of his friends.

"How're you?" I asked. I never really got to talk to Merry much, he was always too busy helping Frodo and Pippin raid Farmer Maggots. Not to mention he was two years older than me.

"Fine,"

I narrowed my eyes. "What? You're like an older brother to me. Relax!"

Merry seemed to stiffen even more. "Like a brother." he echoed. "Oh."

I tilted my head, but he seemed to not want to say anything more on the subject. I leaned my head against his shoulder and looked up at him. His eyes had closed and a smile had spread across his fair face.

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We stayed like that for a while, until we heard a shuffling below us. "Hey Merry! MERRY!"

My blue eyes snapped open. I hadn't even realized I had closed them. I nudged Merry and his eyes flickered open. "Mhmm?"

"I think Pippin's down there." I said quietly.

"So?" he asked, not moving. That was when I realized he was holding my hand. His warm breath tickled my neck and sent shivers down my back.

"He's calling you." I pointed out.

Merry lifted his head groggily. "And?"

I lightly smacked his shoulder. "Aaaand he's your friend! He probably wants to know where you are!"

Merry groaned and lifted his head. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted me gone." He smiled.

I just looked at him. "Isn't that what all little sisters want?"

The smile was removed, and Merry began climbing down the tree without another word.

I sat on the branch on my own. The sun had begun to set as I heard the two boys walk off, twigs crunching under their feet. Suddenly I felt cold, without Merry there. I began to climb carefully down, and sprinted back towards Bag End.

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It was a long run, from the Brandywine to Hobbiton, and I was puffing and panting by the time I got to Uncle Bilbo's hole. Thank goodness I wasn't the dress wearing type.

"Seria! Where have you been?" Frodo exclaimed, racing out the round front door to embrace me tightly. I chuckled.

"I'm all right Frodo, I'm all right! I just went out for a bit of a run and practice my shooting."

"A bit of a run?" Frodo said in disbelief. "You've been gone for nearly four and a half hours!"

My eyes widened. "That long? But we were only asleep for a little while...." suddenly I was aware of Frodo's eyes looking suspiciously at me. "What?" I asked.

"With who?"

"With who?"

"With who, yes."

"Nobody." I said defiantly, holding my head high. I didn't know why I didn't want Frodo to know, it just didn't seem like his business.

Frodo raised an eyebrow. "And would 'nobody' happen to have light brown hair and blue eyes, wear a yellow waistcoat and be lucky enough to call himself my cousin?"

"Yes." I said without thinking. "N-no! No. Not at all."

I was saved by uncle Bilbo opening the door. "Frodo! Seria! It's getting late! Come inside."

I walked toward the warm, inviting light of Bag End happily, with Frodo sniggering behind me. His questions could wait till another time. Right now, supper was calling my name.