Gondor, S.R 1419

Pippin had never remembered feeling so lonely before. He thought Gondor was a wonderful city but he'd prefer some company, someone to talk to. He especially missed Merry, who at least had been a constant companion until now. And he was beginning to wonder where Gandalf was. He hadn't seen him since the night after the, in Pippin's opinion, ordeal questioning by the Steward Denethor. Puzzling it over, he lay down to rest and wait, when something caught his eye by the windowsill.

§

Cautiously Pippin peered into what appeared to be a run down garden of some kind. As he crept quietly in he took note of the worn tower of stone near the middle, surrounded by small trees with wispy branches hanging about. The entire place seemed bathed in darkness. But not really a bad kind, he realized. It was rather comforting. The night and the stars softened the sharp edges of the barbed fence around and made the stone shimmer like silver.

Getting a good look around, he couldn't see a single person here. Perhaps he had misread the letter. At the thought he felt inside his coat for the small crumpled up letter. He had found it on his windowsill, folded neatly as though waiting patiently just for him. And for the life of him, he couldn't understand why he had agreed. Or, that is, he corrected himself, why he had come. He didn't dare contemplate what Gandalf would say or even think. He couldn't afford another mistake. Pippin was sure Gandalf wouldn't stand for it. Then why was he here? He sighed, unable to answer himself.

'Peregrin?'

Startled he spun around to face the owner of the voice. He was surprised that one of the race of Men, for he assumed that they were judging by the other's height, could have crept so quietly up on him without his knowledge.

The figure wore a heavy cloak and did not appear much taller than him. About a head taller he averaged. Moving slightly closer to the figure he said, 'Yes, I'm Peregrin. And who are you?'

He thought he saw the figure smile slightly.

'My name is Kiearâ.' The voice was softer than he had anticipated, and much sweeter, he was surprised to note. With a quick sweep of the figure's hand, they removed their hood.

Pippin nearly choked he was so startled. It was a woman. She was a woman. With deep set eyes, dark and consuming, with the richest shade of green, covered by a grey shadow reflected in the moonlight; hair an almost dusty color with brown and blacks intertwined together in long, thick tresses falling like starlight around her shoulders. Pippin involuntarily took a step back, shocked to his core at her appearance, and that he should think it so grand to begin with.

Tilting her head, Kiearâ looked at him seeming puzzled. Pippin shook his head, telling himself it was just the night and wondering intensely what he appeared like to her.

'Were you the one who sent me this?' He held out the crumpled letter in his hand, showing it to her.

She peered down at it, studying it. She looked confused. He felt his heart flutter. Perhaps she had not sent it to him. He hoped she hadn't. He couldn't bear to think that such a lovely creature would send him a note asking to meet him. It scared him almost as much as her appearance had shocked him. He didn't know why. The thought made him uncomfortable.

Straightening up, she murmured, 'Yes.'

'You did?' he squeaked out.

She nodded quietly. Feeling ashamed he leaned in toward her as close as he dared.

'It's not you…not really…it's just…' he paused, 'the thought that you sent this is rather frightening.'

She seemed startled. 'Why?'

'I don't…know.' He was feeling rather flustered. He wished she would move away a bit more. As though catching his thought, she moved toward the tower settling down in the damp grass beside it. She beckoned for him to come. Casting his unease away, he made his way to her side.

§

Kiearâ waited patiently for Pippin to join her in the grey green grass shaded nicely by the ruined tower, whose forgotten garden this was. She had always liked to come here when she was younger, creating thousands of imaginary stories and adventures. Her aunt Gîleran had told her and her younger sister old tales, passed down through her family's generations since Anaríon had become King of Gondor, so very long ago. The tales of creatures half the size of men and wandering tree-herders of the woods.

And now, here she was, with a real folk story character. A Halfling. Though it wasn't the way she had imagined it would be. She had thought that it would have been more…exciting in some way. But really, all she wanted was to see him. It was as if all those silly dreams of hers when she had been younger really didn't matter. Here was a living being, not some fictitious story character told to her to entertain. Here was a Halfling.

She sighed mentally watching him approach cautiously. He looked so young, at least in terms of her people. But she had the feeling he was young, even by his own peoples' standards. She wanted to smile for him to reassure him that she truly just wanted to meet him, talk to him. But she had seen the way he had reacted before. She was a little unsure what she had done that had unsettled him so much. Surely it could not just have been how she looked, could it? She had never prided herself on her exquisite good looks, yet she knew she was far from hideous.

Puzzling it over, she unable to help but notice the way he moved, so quietly and the way his hair curled around his head, looking like dark gold in the moonlight, light that shone off his face, making his eyes shine like stars. She smiled. She couldn't help herself. His looks moved her, which took her by surprise. Had she done the same to him?

'What?' He asked as he settled down next to her.

Startled, she looked at him in surprise. 'Hm?'

Pouting, he said, 'You smiled. What did you smile about?'

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep him from seeing her smile spread, though she doubted it did much good.

He grinned tentatively at her.

She wondered if he was always like this around women. Though if he was as young as she thought she had a hunch he had never really paid much attention. She pondered if she should be flattered by his aroused interest.

'I was just thinking about how I used to come here when I was younger.' She answered in regards to his question.

'Oh!' his eyes brightened as though a light had just dawned on him. 'So you're from Gondor then?'

She laughed. She couldn't help herself. The tone of his voice, with that brightening of his eyes, warmed her heart and she just had to laugh, the entire situation was just too… pleasant not to.

He seemed offended by her sudden laughter. Shaking her head, she gasped out, 'Oh, it isn't you Peregrin…just the way…you…' she grinned at him. 'Oh, I'm sorry I'm being rude, but you were just utterly delightful.'

'Oh.'

There seemed as if there was something on his mind, lingering there, from the quiet way he spoke. She could almost sense it as if it was in the air, scented in the dark night, beneath the shadow.

'What it is?'

His eyes trailed upward to meet her own, the lids half shaded. He gave a small smile. 'It's just…I thought that all the refugees, all the women and children, had been seen away, to the south, thereabout.' he stammered.

She nodded in answer.

'I came after. I had been away up north and by the time I had returned the last wagons had left. My…sister and mother had already left as well.'

Tilting his head in inquiry, she laughed gently. 'I aid a friend in his recording--'

'That was not what I was thinking.'

His startled voice took her by surprise. Staring at him with wide eyes, she asked curiously, 'Then what?'

'I was…' He seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable again. Letting his eyes roam around the weedy patch of grass and garden, she heard him mumble, 'was that all the family you have? You seem…as if you would have more…'

Sensing the train of his thoughts, though puzzled by it, she said, 'That is all. I had a husband once, and we had no children. He died a few years back.' A thin smile stretched across Kiearâ's face. 'Though he never seemed quite as curious as you.

He seemed flattered, yet unsettled again. Trying to put him at ease, guessing that that lovely reaction she had seen earlier was probably his general atmosphere, she stretched out, relaxing.

'What's it like where you're from?'

Taken off guard, Peregrin was quiet a moment, before saying, 'It's lovely there. That is, the Shire is. That's what we call it, I mean. We keep to ourselves rather a lot, though,' here he chuckled slightly, 'my family has been known to be a bit too…adventuresome for the general "well-to-do" hobbit. In fact--'

§

They were both silent a moment. The silence seemed so odd. Pippin assumed it was due to the way they had been talking for so long it seemed like, maybe even hours. He had never been so open with anyone before. He didn't, he couldn't, understand why he had been so frightened of her. Though, now that he thought about it he realized that it was just her appearance that startled him and that it should startle him was what frightened him. But she was marvelous company. Almost better than Merry in some aspects.

He sighed feeling content with the events and his thoughts, it all seeming to be just the way it should. She grinned, sighing as contently as he had as she leaned down near him resting her head against his shoulder. He stiffened a moment, than feeling foolish relaxed, holding her gingerly in his arms.

Before he knew what he was doing he was stroking her dark hair gently, watching it shimmer in the moonlight. Feeling his touch her eyes flashed open, as she moved to peer up into his eyes not disrupting the hold he had on her. She smiled up at him almost wearily. He smiled back, feeling his heart flutter as he gazed at her.

Coughing slightly, Pippin murmured, trying to somehow take a step back from where they had been going, though he wasn't too clear what that was, and back on to more comfortable topics, such as the Shire or Gondor. Anything else, it didn't matter as long as it was something else.

'Ah, Kiearâ, I still don't understand why you wanted to see me out of every one in Gondor?'

Secretly he was appalled at what he had said. How was that supposed to help his situation? Though a small part of him wondered what it was he thought he wanted to fix.

She shrugged, still in his arms. She peered up at the sky a moment. Returning her gaze to his own, she said, 'Because you sparked my interest. More than any native of Gondor ever did.'

Unwittingly he asked, 'Even your husband?'

Seeming confused she rose out his arms. Standing she moved near one of the hedges by the fence staring forlornly up at the sky. Feeling he had been awfully rude, Pippin rose after her, moving silently beside her. He began to tell her he was sorry for his behavior when she said instead.

'Yes even my husband. My late husband.' She added. 'You seemed different from everyone else.'

'Well, I am a hobbit.' He said indignantly.

Grinning, she looked down at him.

'Oh really?' She teased, 'I hadn't noticed.'

He wasn't sure if that was a joke or an insult. Shaking her head, she kneeled down in front of him, having to look up at him sighing.

'It's more than that. You're so much more than any one I've ever known or met, whether man, or elf, or dwarf, or,' she added after a pause, 'hobbit.'

He was quite startled, not to mention flattered. Smiling, thoroughly happy with what she had said, he took her hands in his saying softly.

'You didn't quite spark my interest, but you sparked something in me. Or at least your looks did. And the more I talked to you the larger the spark grew.'

To his surprise and delight she appeared flustered by his little speech.

'Pippin, I—'

She stopped, almost as though she had forgotten was she was going to say. She sighed again, seeming sad. Not wanting his new companion to be sad, Pippin took her in his arms again, trying to somehow comfort her. She leaned against him, seeming as content as before. She looked like she wanted to say something, though she didn't know what it was. Oh how he could relate. He felt as if he had a million things to get off his chest but he didn't have half a clue as to what any of them were.

Feeling frustrated he pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. He felt her touch his face gently with her hand. Peering up he saw her eyes were so close to his, so beautiful, so sad. Wanting something, but not knowing what it was he opened his mouth but no sound came out. He sighed. Then to his surprise and wonderment he felt her kiss him gently on the cheek. He thought his heart had skipped a beat. He held her tighter, not knowing what to think or do. A part of him wanted to push her away, but the other wanted to feel her smooth lips again, caressing his skin. As though sensing his dilemma, she said.

'I think that's enough for tonight, don't you think Master Took.'

Without waiting for an answer she rose to her feet. She smiled almost sadly down at him. Then she turned to go. Struck by her comment and her decisive action, he caught up to her offering her his arm.

'It's the least I can do.' He said apologetically feeling he had been rude enough these last few moments, and he truly wanted to make up for it.

'Oh Pippin, you've done more than enough,' she whispered, her voice dry. But she took his arm anyway, almost gratefully, as he escorted her out of the garden.

§

Once Pippin had her to her home, or at least to a place where she had a hunch he thought she'd be safe he left, leaving slowly, seeming as cautious as he had when she had first seen him. A small part of her wanted to ask him back, to stay just a little longer, to hold her just a little longer, but she knew he had something more important that was to come then tending to a heart struck young widow.

Sighing she let herself in, going straight to bed. Flinging herself down on the woven sheets, she stared up at the ceiling. Folding her hands under her head, she contemplated this…Pippin, as he called himself. Peregrin. Peregrin Took.

She wasn't sure what to think of him. He was certainly completely different than anyone she had ever met in the few travels she had undergone in the past.

Musing to herself she remembered how upset her mother had been when she had become friendly with the recorder and translator Vërtainir. There had been all these rumors around him and his life style, her mother had been happy to point out. Now she could understand a bit more why perhaps her mother had reacted the way she had, but at the time, Kiearâ had thought her mother too clinging and in the end that protective atmosphere was what drove her to befriend Vërtainir in the first place.

Vërtainir really was an amazing man. Though he had never been out of the city, as far as she knew he had an uncanny way of describing the world in extreme detail. In spite of his handicap, or maybe because of it, he was always alive with news and life. He wasn't technically crippled, but it took far more strength for him to move around then was required of an average person than he let on. He had never really told her what had happened to him to cause this disability of his, though she had her hunches as always.

Struck suddenly, she realized she actually knew more about this Pippin than she did about her own partner. Musing it over, she rolled over on to her stomach, wondering idly what Pippin was doing right now.

She didn't know what to think of him. He…meant something to her. Or at least…she thought that he could mean something to her. Oh, she had loved her husband, but it had never…it had always been more friendly love than anything else had. She wasn't sure what it was she felt for Pippin. She thought maybe…

Sighing, she rose for her bed, staring out the window at the rising sun, thinking of Pippin, since it seemed unlikely that her heart would let her think of anyone else.