"Merry—don't look to your right."
Merry looked at Pippin. "Why not?" he asked, confused.
"Just don't look—Ah!" Pippin cried in disgust. "Why did you look?"
"What's the big deal Pip?" Merry asked as he looked back towards Pippin. "It's only the hobbit that showed up yesterday."
Pippin cautiously looked over Merry's head, and immediately turned away, trying to shrink and appear innocent at the same time. "She did it again," he muttered.
"Did what?"
"Looked this way."
Merry's eyebrows rose. "What?"
"She looked over here again…that's the fifth time I've seen her do it."
Merry looked to the right again—to Pippin's dismay—and looked at the girl. She was standing on the porch outside of her room dressed in a loose robe of sorts. It looked as if she had just come out of the bath, for she was drying her short hair with a cloth and staring solemnly at the beautiful visage that laid before her.
"She's just standing there, Pip."
"I'm telling you, she was looking at us—kept glancing over with those keen eyes of hers and then looking away." Pippin peered over Merry's head again—only this time, he wasn't trying to be as sneaky. "Hey Merry," he started, "does she look familiar to you?"
"What?"
"Just look at her—does she look familiar?"
Merry grumbled something about Tooks as he turned to the right again. He looked at her, intently studying Rivendell, when those intent eyes turned on him.
Merry was quick to turn back around, and try to look as if he hadn't noticed her. "The eyes look familiar," Merry said, a bit taken back. "Definitely something about the eyes." He turned towards Pippin. "How's about we move?" he asked, trying to sound relaxed. But in fact, he wanted to get far out of sight of the strange girl.
Pippin ignored him as he leaned against the porch railing, looking pleased with himself. "I thought she looked like someone from the Shire. Hey, Merry?" he asked again. "Which family do you think she's from? I mean, she's got to be related to someone back home, since where else would you find hobbits but the Shire?"
"I don't know, Pip—besides, it's none of our business," Merry warned him, his tone final.
"You sound just like Sam, Merry," Pippin whined. "But still…I wonder how she ended up here…"
"Pippin…"
"She looks awful serious—kind of sad like," Pippin suddenly said. "Look at her—she looks as if she's never smiled a day in her life." He nudged Merry. "Well, go on! Look!"
Merry sighed as he looked again, by now quite a bit peeved. She was still standing there, though now Merry could only see a profile of her face. Her mouth seemed to turn naturally into a frown, and her face seemed hard. Her gaze then fell from the mountains, and turning her back to them, she walked back into her room.
Merry looked back at Pippin. Pippin had leaned over the railing to get a better look. He had a very thoughtful look on his face, which surprised Merry—Pippin never looked thoughtful, even a little bit. "I bet…" Pippin began slowly, "I bet that I could make her smile."
"Isn't that a bit too ambitious?" Merry countered.
"Is not!"
"It is too! Come on Pip—she's just shown up, and you could call me an elf if she wasn't a seasoned warrior…or a seasoned something, a least." Merry leaned his back on the railing as he looked at Pippin. "What I'm trying to say is that once the council ends, we're going to head back towards the Shire, and she's probably going to head in the exact opposite direction without so much as a smirk."
"So are you trying to say I couldn't make her smile?" Pippin asked, seemingly offended.
"I doubt that your quick cheerfulness and winning charms would win her over."
"I bet they could!"
"Well, I bet they can't."
"Well then—it's a bet! I bet you a pint of ale at the Prancing Pony that not only will I make her smile by the time we part company with her, but that I'll make her laugh as well!"
"Then that pint's as good as mine," Merry said as he and Pippin shook hands. "It's a bet."
"It's a bet, alright. I'll show you, Meriadoc Brandybuck," Pippin smugly said.
"We'll see, Peregrin Took."
