Pippin's Rivendell
By Jocelyne Pipe
a.k.a
Two Methyloctane


Disclaimer: Once again, the characters and settings that gave me inspiration for this story are property of Mr J.R.R. Tolkien, and to a lesser extent, New Line Cinema because they helped me visualize the trilogy. I also thank both of the aforementioned person and company for putting these amazing pictures into my head. I also can't get them out of my head, which is a problem for art class because everything I'm drawing relates to Lord of the Rings. The image in my head of Minas Tirith is beautiful. But anyways, on to the story.

Chapter Three
The Ghosts of the Past


Amy showed Pippin many of her favourite places in Rivendell, but still avoided his question from breakfast. At noon they stopped under a tree in one of the many gardens. Amy sat down on a log, and beckoned Pippin to do the same. Sitting beside her, the light in her eyes that had brightened through their walk, dimmed again.

Before I was born, my parents came to Rivendell because my mother was very sick. They managed to get here in time for my birth, but it was too late for my mother. She died in my father's arms while Elrond attempted to rescue her. It was too late though. A tear slid down her cheek, and she continued. My father was unable to deal with his grief, and left for the Shire, alone. I have not heard from him since. He left me here, in Elrond's care. That was seven and twenty years ago. So Elrond raised me. I grew up here, learned Elvish, and only a few years ago I was told the story of how I arrived here. I always felt alone, like I didn't belong. I was different, and I knew it. So Elrond told me. I felt even more alone afterwards, knowing my father abandoned me. She started crying, and Pippin, unsure of what exactly to do, put his arm around her shoulders. This seemed to comfort her, and her crying stopped in after a few minutes.

I am sorry, Pippin. I did not mean to drag you into this. Pippin took a fresh handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, annoyed at himself for not doing it earlier.

It's alright, Amy. I asked the question. But you said your name was Smallburrow? She nodded as she wiped her eyes. Well, I have heard of the name Smallburrow in Combe, I believe. She turned and looked at him.

My father is still there? She started crying again, and Pippin quickly felt angry for telling her this. He put his arms around her.

Now it is my turn to apologize. I should have known that would upset you.

No, no. Not at all Pippin. I am very happy to hear this. Really, I am. I have spent the past few months debating whether to go find him again. Thank you. She hugged him, and Pippin felt his insides quickly jolt.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking under the tree, unaware of the passage of time until the sun set behind the hills.

A/N: Sorry this one's kinda short. I have to pick points in my story to end the chapters, cause most of it's written, and that seemed like a good place for it. It might be a little while before Chapter 4 gets up. The teachers in my School Division just got off strike, and I've had to work like hell to get caught up, even though we only missed 2 weeks, one of which we had off anyways, but for anyone on the semester system, you know how hectic it is. As I say in all my post-chapter author's notes, please review. Constructive criticism and ideas are always welcome, flames are not. Anyways, thanks to all those who have reviewed, and please stay tuned for Chapter 4, tenatively titled The Offer. Of course, this will probably change as I develop the rest of my story. -- Jocelyne Pipe, a.k.a. Two Methyloctane