Hey peoples! I'm hopeless... I know... but I'm starting a new fic! Its gonna be a slash, so if it sucks, do NOT blame me... anyways... this is sorta related to my story Their Mistakes, except that Pippin is 'the one'... and don't ask what significance 'the one' has, and reading the other story will not help you, because it's not written yet.
Pixie: shut up and write already...
Dusk: don't be so cruel to my aibou
Ami: no worried... she has mood swings, remember?
Morder: mhm... she 'bout 5 months along now...
Ami: sweet!! Baby will be born in April!
Pixie: *grumbles* yeah... real sweet...
Ami: *rolls eyes* anyways... I spent time finding out the ages of the people in the Lord of the Rings!!
Morder: you don't 'ave everyone...
Ami: What because I got lazy after I couldn't find Legolas and Gimli... anyways... Enjoy! Joy Ginn!
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Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Lord of the Rings, J.R. Tolkin does. If I did, I wouldn't be here, begging on my knees for you not to rat me out (indeed I would be in a palace of Crystal...) I DON'T WANNA GET SUED!! I'M POOR!!
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Prologue
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It was the year 2999 in the Third Age. 1396 SR. At the top of a hill in Tuckborough stood an Elf. Her long hair fell to her ankles, and her grey-blue eyes were void of a pupil. Indeed, they were clouded over, and she could only see in shadows and faint lights.
She was gazing in the direction of sobbing... for though she could not see that well, all her other senses were hightened. Finally gaining courage, she started to walk towards the sobbing, her white dress bellowing behind her, the golden hemming sparking in the flash of thunder that came every minute or two.
Indeed, though it was raining, she was not wet at all. She was untouched by the weather, whether good or ill. Nor did her silver-grey shoes bend a single blade of grass.
When she found the sorce of the sobbing, she found that her heart did something that it hadn't felt in a long time... sorrow.
Crouching down next to the little hobbit child there, she wrapped her arms around him. He shivvered, and then looked right up at her... through her...
"Who's there!" He called.
"Just me..." she whispered. He almost jumped out of his skin.
"Who said that!" he called again, his dark red, almost brown curls dancing in the air as he looked around frantically.
"You can't see me..." she whispered. "No one can..."
"Oh..." he settled down a little uneasily. "W-why are you here?"
"Why were you crying?" She asked soothingly. She traced his curls, though he couldn't feel it.
"Merry..." the hobbit bit his lip cutely. "Merry got hurt... and he said it was all my fault... he hates me..."
"Who's Merry?" she asked soothingly. She hunched over him, and willed the rain not to touch him either. It complied, listening to the dark magic in her vains.
"He's my cousin," the hobbit cheered up a little, smiling. "He's my bestest friend in the 'ole wide world!"
She smiled at him, and closed her eyes...
The hobbit couldn't of been older then six... He shouldn't of been crying...
"And he hates me..." his tone was sad again, and she opened her eyes.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," she said softly. "He was probably just not thinking straight..."
"Pippin!!" The voice came from farther down the hill. "Pippin! Where are you!"
"That's Merry!" The young hobbit said cheerily. She smiled at him.
"I told you he wasn't mad..." she stood up, and made to go leave, but the hobbit started to blindly reach out for her, as if knowing she would go.
"Please don't go?" he asked. She stopped.
"You can't see me."
"I know..." he shrugged. "But I wanna friend."
"Al-alright..." she bit her tongue. "I'm Nimrodel..."
"I'm Pippin," he smiled at her. "I'll see you later?"
"You can't see me."
Pippin laughed, and then ran down the hill to Merry...
Pixie: shut up and write already...
Dusk: don't be so cruel to my aibou
Ami: no worried... she has mood swings, remember?
Morder: mhm... she 'bout 5 months along now...
Ami: sweet!! Baby will be born in April!
Pixie: *grumbles* yeah... real sweet...
Ami: *rolls eyes* anyways... I spent time finding out the ages of the people in the Lord of the Rings!!
Morder: you don't 'ave everyone...
Ami: What because I got lazy after I couldn't find Legolas and Gimli... anyways... Enjoy! Joy Ginn!
-
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Lord of the Rings, J.R. Tolkin does. If I did, I wouldn't be here, begging on my knees for you not to rat me out (indeed I would be in a palace of Crystal...) I DON'T WANNA GET SUED!! I'M POOR!!
-
Prologue
-
It was the year 2999 in the Third Age. 1396 SR. At the top of a hill in Tuckborough stood an Elf. Her long hair fell to her ankles, and her grey-blue eyes were void of a pupil. Indeed, they were clouded over, and she could only see in shadows and faint lights.
She was gazing in the direction of sobbing... for though she could not see that well, all her other senses were hightened. Finally gaining courage, she started to walk towards the sobbing, her white dress bellowing behind her, the golden hemming sparking in the flash of thunder that came every minute or two.
Indeed, though it was raining, she was not wet at all. She was untouched by the weather, whether good or ill. Nor did her silver-grey shoes bend a single blade of grass.
When she found the sorce of the sobbing, she found that her heart did something that it hadn't felt in a long time... sorrow.
Crouching down next to the little hobbit child there, she wrapped her arms around him. He shivvered, and then looked right up at her... through her...
"Who's there!" He called.
"Just me..." she whispered. He almost jumped out of his skin.
"Who said that!" he called again, his dark red, almost brown curls dancing in the air as he looked around frantically.
"You can't see me..." she whispered. "No one can..."
"Oh..." he settled down a little uneasily. "W-why are you here?"
"Why were you crying?" She asked soothingly. She traced his curls, though he couldn't feel it.
"Merry..." the hobbit bit his lip cutely. "Merry got hurt... and he said it was all my fault... he hates me..."
"Who's Merry?" she asked soothingly. She hunched over him, and willed the rain not to touch him either. It complied, listening to the dark magic in her vains.
"He's my cousin," the hobbit cheered up a little, smiling. "He's my bestest friend in the 'ole wide world!"
She smiled at him, and closed her eyes...
The hobbit couldn't of been older then six... He shouldn't of been crying...
"And he hates me..." his tone was sad again, and she opened her eyes.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," she said softly. "He was probably just not thinking straight..."
"Pippin!!" The voice came from farther down the hill. "Pippin! Where are you!"
"That's Merry!" The young hobbit said cheerily. She smiled at him.
"I told you he wasn't mad..." she stood up, and made to go leave, but the hobbit started to blindly reach out for her, as if knowing she would go.
"Please don't go?" he asked. She stopped.
"You can't see me."
"I know..." he shrugged. "But I wanna friend."
"Al-alright..." she bit her tongue. "I'm Nimrodel..."
"I'm Pippin," he smiled at her. "I'll see you later?"
"You can't see me."
Pippin laughed, and then ran down the hill to Merry...