I think the idea of a story based around Ceredin is an awesome idea, as so little is known about her character. I've tried to keep everything in chronological order as best as I could, although some differences might arise in further chapters. I will update after 6 reviews.

"Ae aníral hirad, " Ceredin breathed in as she continued to sketch the scenery enveloping her in its beauty. "A welcome afternoon." With little more than a glass ink well and a worn quill, she had set aside a few moments of peaceful activity to venture to the hilly terrain where the mountains of Osidh Elanor loomed behind her house in a perfect backdrop of bluish-gray. The quaint cottage itself was situated on meadow's edge over looking Tuillien, a village neighboring the prodigious school of Lirigon. Its spacious yard was encompassed by a grove of willows, whose wooden arms stretched majestically towards the heavens and whose tousled fingers rained onto the earth in a faint breeze. It was her home, the only place she aspired to live, untouched by the evils of the world. She could study here, learn as the pupils of old from her mother, and grow into a full bard without the monotonous activities each "proper" bard experienced. All in all, Ceredin was content with her life and didn't wish it to be disturbed.

"Sindaiva nan merilyë ista, len orë cé cenda parmat nóleva, " her roan mare whinnied. To Ceredin, the speech still held its perplexity and she could barely contain her excitement at the horse's words, which caressed her mind with a tingling joy. "I hope we never travel far from these fields."

"I am quite sure there are other places just as lovely," she replied optimistically; her insides twisted at the blatant truth- She had never traveled far from her town, save to Lirigon with her father, and the idea of traveling many leagues away to attend a school made little sense to her.

"You lie," Cara snorted. "There is naught but dirt and stones that stir beneath your feet when you move. Nay, I should never like to travel from here.

Ceredin did not comment further; Cara was impatient but would understand her mother's decision to send her to learn in Norloch. It would better everyone's lives, however hard it would be to leave the warmth of everything familiar and dear. She turned back to her drawing; it had grown into a beautiful portrait during their brief conversation, and Ceredin was quite proud. "Why take up a mentor when one can learn from one's own talents?" she questioned; the last rays of the sun answered her as she signed a corner Ceredin N893.

"I see you have occupied yourself" a voice broke in. She met her mother's sturdy gaze which hastened from her face to the drawing.

"Yes," Ceredin responded, stretching her legs. "I hate the idea of having no charcoals to use."

Her mother frowned, her face withered with age. "Perhaps there are some in Lirigon."

Ceredin paused. "And how will that help me?"

"We have a visitor waiting in the yard who has called upon you," her mother explained. " An attractive visitor," she smiled.

Ceredin's eyes widened slightly as she stood and stowed her drawing away in the saddle bag. "From the school, I should imagine?"

Her mother nodded. "Aye, I should expect he is; he wears the brooch of Lirigon."

Mounting her horse, Ceredin sighed; her peace was already stolen. "Would you care for a ride back?"

"Light no! I should like to see what you find so dear that you must sit here for hours on end!" she exclaimed slapping Cara's rump.

Ceredin galloped to the house and in no time her eyes fell upon the dark haired man who sat patiently on her doorstep. "Greetings!" he called cheerfully as she pulled up. Her mother had been correct in her observations; he was handsome and polite. He graciously took the reins as she dismounted, a gesture she was unused to since her father's death. It had been a near flawless execution, but her leg caught the edge of her drawing and it fell to the ground. "An artist?" the man raised an eyebrow as he fetched it; Ceredin couldn't help but blush. "It's stunning," he said in a low voice. "For an untutored bard, you certainly show ability."

"Thank you," she said hesistantly, unsure if it had been a compliment. "But my mother has taught me many things and I would not consider myself to be untaught."

"My apologies," he excused himself. "I did not mean to offend you."

"Might I ask your name and why you are here?" she inquired gently. He did not appear to be rough as the men of Tuillien were and thus she granted him courtesy.

"Ah. Curse my manners," he chuckled. "Nelac was friends with your father I believe."

"I do not recall the name," she responded truthfully; his penetrating blue eyes did little to help her cognition. "Is he of Lirigon?"

"Aye; a great mentor he has been to many young bards, including myself. You should consider it a great honor that he wishes to teach you," he spoke wisely.

"I do," she smiled awkwardly. "It's just that I do not wish to leave my home."

He idly fingered Cara's mane. "You will not be travelling far; Lirigon is only a few leagues from here," he assured. "You can visit your mother as often as you wish."

Ceredin nodded; at least she had met someone who understood her lack of motivation. "If I am to leave, surely I must bring some belongings," she walked up the steps of her house, nearly forgetting a most important piece of information. "Your name?" she asked.

"My name?" he grinned; he seemed confused.

"Yes, you haven't given it to me!" she laughed.

"Cadvan," he smiled in return.

She licked her dry lips as their eyes met. "You might as well stay for dinner then, Cadvan."

Fixing up some mistakes, I'd like to point out that a ton of you have apparently read this, yet I have 3 reviews. 3. I hate begging for them, guys. I just think it should be a natural thing- you read a story, and then help the author out by saying something. Perhaps I just have too much hope that people actually care. =(