In the afternoon of the following day, Percival and some of the other young men practised fighting with wooden staffs and swords. They did it more for fun than for any other reason, though of course it was always good for a village to be able to defend itself. Occasionally a few of the older men would join them, just to prove that they were still fit and could definitely best the young people who thought they knew everything.

Percival was slow because of his big build, but the others soon learned to be wary of his great strength. On his side, he could withstand a lot of strikes, but had to take his opponents' greater speed into account. He sparred with his friend Gareth and they seemed to take it in turns who would be the one to fall in the grass. He had just sent Gareth sprawling when his eye caught Bree walking by with a friend of hers. Percival thought the girls had good timing. They didn't seem to be in a hurry, but walked slowly, chatting quietly to each other so only they could hear, while eyeing the men who were fighting.

"Hello, Bree," Percival said, straightening himself.

"Hello, Percival," Bree answered.

They sort of looked each other over in the shortest of moments. Then the two girls walked on. Bree's friend was giggling excitedly.

"Have you looked at his arms? They're amazing!" he thought he heard her say into Bree's ear. Hard work paid off in several ways, Percival thought to himself.

"Why did you say hello to her?" Gareth asked when Percival heaved him up by the arm.

"Because we're betrothed to each other," he said, straight-forwardly. Saying it that way would help him get used to the idea, he hoped. Marrying would definitely be a big change, even though it was still years ahead in the future.

"You're joking!" Gareth replied.

"No, I'm not." He cast another look at her walking away and it suddenly occurred to him, that he did not actually know what she thought about the whole thing. His parents had not said anything about that. He would have to ask her one of these days.

Bree seemed to have accepted her destiny the same as Percival, and as the months went by, he slowly got a clearer and clearer picture of how life with her would be like. It was quite a nice picture. He made sure to talk to her whenever the occasion arose, trying to get a bit inside her head and see what kind of girl she was. But that was a difficult task. After a while he began to wonder if she deliberately kept him at a distance, however short a distance it was. In the end he accepted it. After all, they had a whole lifetime to get to know each other. It would only get boring if he had read her inside out within the first year of their marriage.

The two or three years passed by. Plans were made, a date for the wedding set and the celebrations prepared. However, on the morning of the wedding, walking out of the barn, he found a note with his name on it stuck behind the latch of the door. He unfolded the piece of paper and started to read.

Dear Percival

I want you to know that what I am going to do tonight has nothing to do with you. You are a good and kind man, and I have no doubt you will make a woman very happy one day. But that woman is not going to be me. I love someone else. I am very sorry. But my father never asked if I actually wanted to marry you. I'm running away with Feoran tonight. We are going to marry tomorrow, before anyone finds us. If I hurt you by acting in this way, I beg you to forgive me, but I cannot act differently.

Sincerest,
Bree.

That was that, then. Percival never showed the letter to anyone, but he told his parents that Bree had been decent enough to let him know why she had gone. He was not hurt, merely disappointed on his mother and father's behalf. They had wanted the best for him and Bree had been an advantageous match. He wished her happiness and believed readily that she would be happier with Feoran, the man she was in love with and who was in love with her, than with himself. He would just have to marry someone else, that was all, and he decided that he would try a little harder to search for a good, sweet girl by himself, rather than burden his parents with making the choice for him one more time. He dared not hope that he would actually fall in love some day, in over his head, like in the stories. The thought of it was actually somewhat intimidating. Simply liking his wife, caring for her and trusting her would be enough for him.

However, Bree's father and especially her mother did not take so well to their daughter's news. Elsa, not able to see fault in her own family, blamed Percival for the whole business.

"How can it be my fault that she chose someone else?" Percival complained to his mother in anger over the unjust criticism.

"She is shocked and probably ashamed that her daughter ran away from home. She is just taking it out on you because of that," his mother said, "Don't pay heed to what she says, I'm sure she doesn't mean it. In a few days she will see sense and maybe apologise to you."

But within a few days, Bree's mother seemed to have convinced herself that Percival was a wicked and cruel man, who had threatened Bree into despair at the prospect of a future life in the same house with him, and thus made her run away in fear. Different rumours of the whole affair were being whispered in corners and went from house to house. Bree's family was quite influential in the little village, and Elsa managed to divide its population into two separate factions.

The people who knew Percival as a gentle and patient person took his side in the dispute, but most, especially other mothers of young girls, supported Elsa's claims. Fuelled by the bad rumours, they became afraid of his strength. A feeling of mistrust and unease plagued all of the village.