Peregrin Took stood on the ledge of his room in Lothlorien. He looked down
at all the elves going by living their daily lives, he wondered for a
moment why he was not scared of the tremendous height. He shook himself
and recalled the last few days. The Fellowship was in Moria, and Gandalf
the Grey had fallen there….it was his fault, his fault he died. If he
hadn't been so foolish the wizard would still be alive and well. He sighed
and couldn't get the look on Gandalf's face when he heard the loud clanging
of the orc skeleton as it fell to the bottom of the well. It was horrible
and frightening, the worst part though was looking the rest of the
Fellowship in the eye. He heard the drums and knew he caused them.
"Pippin?" a gentle voice shook him from his memories. He turned around and
discovered the voice belonged to Meriadoc Brandybuck, his cousin and
friend. "You're kinda close to the edge, you don't wanna fall all that
way, and you're not as nimble on your feet as these elves are." He stepped
forward and pulled him back. "Are you ok?" Merry asked examining his
cousin's face with a look of concern. Pippin's face was sullen and sober.
Merry had never seen his cousin look so serious, it was unnatural. Pippin
was always so cheerful so happy. Pippin looked into his cousin's eyes and
saw pity in them. He sighed and blinked away some tears. "No, I'm ok, a
little taken back at the height that's all," he tried to smile. Merry
grinned, "Come let's get something to eat." Pippin shrugged and allowed
himself to be steered into his room where a tray laden with food was there.
He ate a few bites then sighed and thought some more, another nagging
thought came up. "Fool of a Took!" Gandalf scolded little Pippin. "You've
brought shame on the Tooks!" his father's voice cried. "Stupid Pippin, you
ruined our outing" his sister whined. "Pippin, you worthless hobbit!"
Farmer Maggot screamed. "Pippin! Can't you do anything right?" asked
Merry
"Pippin? Pippin!" he was shaken violently out of his memories again. "You don't look so good." Merry said, Pippin looked into his eyes and recalled the last voice he heard, Merry scolding him, it made him burn with sadness as he realized that he really was a worthless hobbit who caused trouble. "Stomachache" Pippin grumbled to Merry. He didn't want him to see him cry, that would make matters worse. "I'm gonna get some rest maybe I'll feel better in the morning" he told Merry. "Ok, but I'm gonna check on you" and he left. Pippin layed down on his bed and began to sob uncontrollably. "No one cares about me…they all hate me." He muttered. Suddenly something gleaming caught his eye. It was his small pocketknife, he reached over to his bedside table and picked it up studying the wooden handle and the sharp gleaming edge. He took it and dragged it over his wrist and winced a little at the pain. He looked at the blood running down his hand. This is the only way he thought. He was almost glad. Then as he was about to slit his other wrist Merry came in. "Pippin, I brought you some tea to help you feel better." His eyes trailed over the bed and saw Pippin with a bloody arm and knife. "PIPPIN!" Merry lunged at him and grabbed the dagger out of his hand. Pippin looked balefully up at him, not uttering a sound. "Pippin, why? Why would you do this?" Merry cried tears running down his face. He held the little hobbit who began to shudder in his arms. It's not too late, he can still be saved a sob escaped his lips and he looked into Pippin's eyes. Pippin looked at the clouded face of Merry. There was a gleam in his eye that Pippin noticed. He wasn't just crying cause of his friend. He saw something more than friendship in his eyes. Maybe…Maybe…Merry… Then blackness closed over him and he knew no more.
"Pippin? Pippin!" he was shaken violently out of his memories again. "You don't look so good." Merry said, Pippin looked into his eyes and recalled the last voice he heard, Merry scolding him, it made him burn with sadness as he realized that he really was a worthless hobbit who caused trouble. "Stomachache" Pippin grumbled to Merry. He didn't want him to see him cry, that would make matters worse. "I'm gonna get some rest maybe I'll feel better in the morning" he told Merry. "Ok, but I'm gonna check on you" and he left. Pippin layed down on his bed and began to sob uncontrollably. "No one cares about me…they all hate me." He muttered. Suddenly something gleaming caught his eye. It was his small pocketknife, he reached over to his bedside table and picked it up studying the wooden handle and the sharp gleaming edge. He took it and dragged it over his wrist and winced a little at the pain. He looked at the blood running down his hand. This is the only way he thought. He was almost glad. Then as he was about to slit his other wrist Merry came in. "Pippin, I brought you some tea to help you feel better." His eyes trailed over the bed and saw Pippin with a bloody arm and knife. "PIPPIN!" Merry lunged at him and grabbed the dagger out of his hand. Pippin looked balefully up at him, not uttering a sound. "Pippin, why? Why would you do this?" Merry cried tears running down his face. He held the little hobbit who began to shudder in his arms. It's not too late, he can still be saved a sob escaped his lips and he looked into Pippin's eyes. Pippin looked at the clouded face of Merry. There was a gleam in his eye that Pippin noticed. He wasn't just crying cause of his friend. He saw something more than friendship in his eyes. Maybe…Maybe…Merry… Then blackness closed over him and he knew no more.