Disclaimer: Don't own it.
As usual, Tara was at her usual hangout. For once, there were no guys surrounding her. She noticed the two approaching Hobbits and slowly sidled towards them - or rather, sidled towards the cute, single Pippin.
That is, the cute single Pippin who did not particularly care for her.
~~Flashback~~
Pippin shrugged, rolling over in his bed to face his cousin. "I suppose I just don't get it."
"Don't get what?" Merry yawned, tired after a long day. Pippin on the other hand didn't seem tired in it's remotest.
"Don't get what most guys see in Tara. Oh, wow, she's an elf. I suppose that's the only thing that's good about her. Everything /else/ is against her."
Merry turned to face Pippin. Goody, the start of another long argument. And at midnight, too. "I actually feel rather sorry for her, Pip."
Pippin sat up, staring at his older cousin. "Why? There's nothing to feel sorry for, Merry. I hope you aren't falling for her too. Take a look at her for a moment - she clearly has no self-respect, pursuing that kind of career."
Merry shrugged. "Exactly. And I just wonder what happened to her, to make her hate herself so much. Now shut up and go to sleep, Pippin." . "And I am certainly /not/ falling for Tara, thank you very much."
~~End Flashback~~
Pippin was so caught up in his memories of Merry that he barely noticed the elf standing over him, or the puddle of drool collecting underneath Sam. He didn't wake up to the real world until he heard Tara's voice, about two feet above his head. "Hiiii."
He looked up at her for only a moment, and a fresh lot of tears began. Both Tara and Sam were quite taken aback, as this time there appeared to be no trigger. Sam shrugged at Tara, then turned and tried to awkwardly comfort Pippin. "Pip, it's okay. It's okay." Things weren't okay, though. But that's the line of comfort you use when you don't really know what's wrong, and you know you can't really help. And that pretty much fit the description of how Sam felt.
"No, it's not okay." Pippin sobbed, looking up at Tara. "Merry was right, that's all. He was right, and I knew it all along. But that's just another thing that I knew and was going to tell him eventually, but never got around to. And now I'll never get a chance to tell him because he's. he's. he's dead, Sam."
Tara looked rather stunned, but still seemed to have Pippin labelled as a potential customer, or perhaps it was just her natural way of doing things. Either way, she bent down and wiped a tear from his cheek, somehow managing to turn such a simple gesture into a seductive hint. "Honey, these things happen." She explained softly. "And they happen a lot. There's nothing you can do about it, except get on with your life. Come on, do you think Merry would want you to be crying over him every few minutes, or do you think he'd want you to have some fun?" She winked.
Almost immediately, Pippin stopped crying. It wasn't because he knew Merry would want him to have fun, it was that Tara didn't seem to care about poor Merry. He looked up at her, his eyes like icy daggers. "I don't think that Merry would have wanted me to cry over him, nor do I believe that he wished for me to get over his death by sleeping with the local prostitute." His tone of voice was every bit as icy as his eyes. "Especially one that does not seem to realise that this is not some stupid game. Last night, my cousin, my best friend was murdered. That is not the type of thing you can get over within a day, Tara. Furthermore, being partially responsible for this is not the type of thing you can get over in a day."
Sam was absolutely amazed at the sudden change in Pippin, and suddenly felt the urge to applaud. Certainly Tara was attractive, and had him as taken in as pretty much any other, after that show of distinct lacking care for the late Merry, he was convinced he would never be able to look at her in the same way again. Instead of applauding, he simply asked quietly, "Pippin, what do you mean you're partially responsible?"
Pippin glanced at Sam, his eyes again filling with tears. This time, however, they were not tears of sadness - they were tears of frustration. "Don't you see? I am partially responsible. If I had never left him alone with Samia at the party, this never would have happened. It's my fault. Why can't you see that?" He glanced up at the sky. "O Meriadoc, I am so very, very sorry! I take the full blame! Could you ever forgive me?"
I'm quite sure, as the author of this tale, you do not need me to explain that this caused Tara and Sam to wonder about his sanity, Tara more so than Sam. In fact, this wonder of his sanity almost deterred her from any wish to seduce him. Almost, but not quite. Unfortunately, she was the type to enjoy a good challenge.
She ruffled his hair with one long, slender hand, and gradually ran it down his cheek and jaw, then gently and slowly traced his lips. "But Pippin," she used his name for the first time, "I'm sure you agree, there would have been nothing you could have done about it, even if you hadn't have left him. Whoever killed him would have probably just brushed you aside, or killed you as well." She flung the hand to one side at the words 'brushed you aside'.
Pippin glared at her a second time. If his gaze had been like daggers of ice the first time, then there are no words to describe the look in his eyes the second time. "Tara, where were you last night?" He asked her suspiciously, steering back to the original point of the little visit that he was now mostly regretting. But then, if his suspicions were true, the little visit could pay off greatly.
She would have looked down on him, but that is hardly the appropriate term. She did look down, but 'twas not in a condescending manner. Doing this, she took an automatic step backwards. "I went to the party to earn a bit of spare change. I met up with Merry. He was quite a catch, you know, for a Hobbit." She winked again, lapsing into her regular behaviour. "Not unlike yourself." In spite of himself, Pippin blushed. "Anyway, we were talking for a while, and although he seemed to enjoy talking, he ignored every move I made on him. Again, not unlike yourself. He was a bit challenging, but in the end I talked him into at very least taking a stroll with me. Finally, he agreed. And so we went walking. I kept trying to talk him into /something/, but every time I tried something, he continued ignoring me. It got so frustrating I."
Pippin continued glaring at her, unable to take any more of it. "You killed him, didn't you? You were so frustrated by his ignorance, that you killed him!"
Tara shook her head. "No - no, Pippin! I could never do that! I could never kill someone like Merry! I left! That's all I did, I'll swear it over his grave if I must. I left him, and I'm as much to blame for his death as you are! I left him as well! I walked off on him!" For the first time since she had been exiled by the elves, Tara broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. "I should've known something bad was going to happen.. I never should have done it. I'm still an elf, no matter what else I do, and I still have instincts. And when my instincts told me not to walk off, I should have trusted them."
"Can you look me in the eye, Tara, and tell me that you did not in any way harm Merry?" Pippin asked her quietly, the coldness in his tone and his eyes subsiding.
She looked Pippin in the eye, and repeated it. "Pippin, I swear it, I did not in any way, shape or form harm Merry." The sincerity in her voice was echoed in her eyes. She could not have possibly had anything to do with it.
Pippin turned to leave, convinced that she was innocent, and truly realising for the first time that Merry was right. She deserved pity, and not spite. True friendship, and not just. well, whatever it was that she got. "Tara, I would not be able to lead the life you lead, and I don't know anyone who could. That could be because if we had to resort to that or die, we would die. It could be because we don't hate ourselves as much as you seem to. I suppose I can't make up my mind whether I admire you, or feel sorry for you. Either way, you should sleep easily tonight, knowing there is one Hobbit who doesn't only feel something towards you because of the way you look and act."
He walked away from her, beckoning for Sam to follow him. Tara was unsure what he meant by that, but went back to her original seat to await the crowds that often appeared in the late hours of the evening. Pippin looked up at Sam. "Oh, Sam, whatever can I do? There are two, possibly three people to partially blame his death on, yet none of us three actually committed the crime. It seems that all the people he was in the company of that evening left him alone, and I suppose some spirit appeared out of nowhere to commit the crime. Can you see any real answer to the riddle?"
"No." Sam replied, shrugging helplessly. "I'm afraid I really can't see any answers at all. It doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever."
"I'm afraid that makes two of us, Sam."
As usual, Tara was at her usual hangout. For once, there were no guys surrounding her. She noticed the two approaching Hobbits and slowly sidled towards them - or rather, sidled towards the cute, single Pippin.
That is, the cute single Pippin who did not particularly care for her.
~~Flashback~~
Pippin shrugged, rolling over in his bed to face his cousin. "I suppose I just don't get it."
"Don't get what?" Merry yawned, tired after a long day. Pippin on the other hand didn't seem tired in it's remotest.
"Don't get what most guys see in Tara. Oh, wow, she's an elf. I suppose that's the only thing that's good about her. Everything /else/ is against her."
Merry turned to face Pippin. Goody, the start of another long argument. And at midnight, too. "I actually feel rather sorry for her, Pip."
Pippin sat up, staring at his older cousin. "Why? There's nothing to feel sorry for, Merry. I hope you aren't falling for her too. Take a look at her for a moment - she clearly has no self-respect, pursuing that kind of career."
Merry shrugged. "Exactly. And I just wonder what happened to her, to make her hate herself so much. Now shut up and go to sleep, Pippin." . "And I am certainly /not/ falling for Tara, thank you very much."
~~End Flashback~~
Pippin was so caught up in his memories of Merry that he barely noticed the elf standing over him, or the puddle of drool collecting underneath Sam. He didn't wake up to the real world until he heard Tara's voice, about two feet above his head. "Hiiii."
He looked up at her for only a moment, and a fresh lot of tears began. Both Tara and Sam were quite taken aback, as this time there appeared to be no trigger. Sam shrugged at Tara, then turned and tried to awkwardly comfort Pippin. "Pip, it's okay. It's okay." Things weren't okay, though. But that's the line of comfort you use when you don't really know what's wrong, and you know you can't really help. And that pretty much fit the description of how Sam felt.
"No, it's not okay." Pippin sobbed, looking up at Tara. "Merry was right, that's all. He was right, and I knew it all along. But that's just another thing that I knew and was going to tell him eventually, but never got around to. And now I'll never get a chance to tell him because he's. he's. he's dead, Sam."
Tara looked rather stunned, but still seemed to have Pippin labelled as a potential customer, or perhaps it was just her natural way of doing things. Either way, she bent down and wiped a tear from his cheek, somehow managing to turn such a simple gesture into a seductive hint. "Honey, these things happen." She explained softly. "And they happen a lot. There's nothing you can do about it, except get on with your life. Come on, do you think Merry would want you to be crying over him every few minutes, or do you think he'd want you to have some fun?" She winked.
Almost immediately, Pippin stopped crying. It wasn't because he knew Merry would want him to have fun, it was that Tara didn't seem to care about poor Merry. He looked up at her, his eyes like icy daggers. "I don't think that Merry would have wanted me to cry over him, nor do I believe that he wished for me to get over his death by sleeping with the local prostitute." His tone of voice was every bit as icy as his eyes. "Especially one that does not seem to realise that this is not some stupid game. Last night, my cousin, my best friend was murdered. That is not the type of thing you can get over within a day, Tara. Furthermore, being partially responsible for this is not the type of thing you can get over in a day."
Sam was absolutely amazed at the sudden change in Pippin, and suddenly felt the urge to applaud. Certainly Tara was attractive, and had him as taken in as pretty much any other, after that show of distinct lacking care for the late Merry, he was convinced he would never be able to look at her in the same way again. Instead of applauding, he simply asked quietly, "Pippin, what do you mean you're partially responsible?"
Pippin glanced at Sam, his eyes again filling with tears. This time, however, they were not tears of sadness - they were tears of frustration. "Don't you see? I am partially responsible. If I had never left him alone with Samia at the party, this never would have happened. It's my fault. Why can't you see that?" He glanced up at the sky. "O Meriadoc, I am so very, very sorry! I take the full blame! Could you ever forgive me?"
I'm quite sure, as the author of this tale, you do not need me to explain that this caused Tara and Sam to wonder about his sanity, Tara more so than Sam. In fact, this wonder of his sanity almost deterred her from any wish to seduce him. Almost, but not quite. Unfortunately, she was the type to enjoy a good challenge.
She ruffled his hair with one long, slender hand, and gradually ran it down his cheek and jaw, then gently and slowly traced his lips. "But Pippin," she used his name for the first time, "I'm sure you agree, there would have been nothing you could have done about it, even if you hadn't have left him. Whoever killed him would have probably just brushed you aside, or killed you as well." She flung the hand to one side at the words 'brushed you aside'.
Pippin glared at her a second time. If his gaze had been like daggers of ice the first time, then there are no words to describe the look in his eyes the second time. "Tara, where were you last night?" He asked her suspiciously, steering back to the original point of the little visit that he was now mostly regretting. But then, if his suspicions were true, the little visit could pay off greatly.
She would have looked down on him, but that is hardly the appropriate term. She did look down, but 'twas not in a condescending manner. Doing this, she took an automatic step backwards. "I went to the party to earn a bit of spare change. I met up with Merry. He was quite a catch, you know, for a Hobbit." She winked again, lapsing into her regular behaviour. "Not unlike yourself." In spite of himself, Pippin blushed. "Anyway, we were talking for a while, and although he seemed to enjoy talking, he ignored every move I made on him. Again, not unlike yourself. He was a bit challenging, but in the end I talked him into at very least taking a stroll with me. Finally, he agreed. And so we went walking. I kept trying to talk him into /something/, but every time I tried something, he continued ignoring me. It got so frustrating I."
Pippin continued glaring at her, unable to take any more of it. "You killed him, didn't you? You were so frustrated by his ignorance, that you killed him!"
Tara shook her head. "No - no, Pippin! I could never do that! I could never kill someone like Merry! I left! That's all I did, I'll swear it over his grave if I must. I left him, and I'm as much to blame for his death as you are! I left him as well! I walked off on him!" For the first time since she had been exiled by the elves, Tara broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. "I should've known something bad was going to happen.. I never should have done it. I'm still an elf, no matter what else I do, and I still have instincts. And when my instincts told me not to walk off, I should have trusted them."
"Can you look me in the eye, Tara, and tell me that you did not in any way harm Merry?" Pippin asked her quietly, the coldness in his tone and his eyes subsiding.
She looked Pippin in the eye, and repeated it. "Pippin, I swear it, I did not in any way, shape or form harm Merry." The sincerity in her voice was echoed in her eyes. She could not have possibly had anything to do with it.
Pippin turned to leave, convinced that she was innocent, and truly realising for the first time that Merry was right. She deserved pity, and not spite. True friendship, and not just. well, whatever it was that she got. "Tara, I would not be able to lead the life you lead, and I don't know anyone who could. That could be because if we had to resort to that or die, we would die. It could be because we don't hate ourselves as much as you seem to. I suppose I can't make up my mind whether I admire you, or feel sorry for you. Either way, you should sleep easily tonight, knowing there is one Hobbit who doesn't only feel something towards you because of the way you look and act."
He walked away from her, beckoning for Sam to follow him. Tara was unsure what he meant by that, but went back to her original seat to await the crowds that often appeared in the late hours of the evening. Pippin looked up at Sam. "Oh, Sam, whatever can I do? There are two, possibly three people to partially blame his death on, yet none of us three actually committed the crime. It seems that all the people he was in the company of that evening left him alone, and I suppose some spirit appeared out of nowhere to commit the crime. Can you see any real answer to the riddle?"
"No." Sam replied, shrugging helplessly. "I'm afraid I really can't see any answers at all. It doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever."
"I'm afraid that makes two of us, Sam."