Pippin dismounted from Shadowfax, followed swiftly by Gandalf. “What are you doing, Pippin? This is no place for a hobbit, though it is probably safer than the spirals of Minas Tirith. The dangers of the battlefield will not have passed until it is cleared.”
Pippin continued walking, though his walk was subdued. “I cannot walk away from this field Gandalf. I am a part of this war, of this destruction. I cannot just walk away from these horrors. I know that you just want the best for us, Gandalf, but I have a right to fight, and honor, those whom I love most dearly. Now I must search for Merry, if he is here.”
If he is here,” Gandalf said gravely, “then I will pray to the Valar that you do not find him in such a critical need that I cannot save him.” He strode slowly away, looking at the dead and dying Rohirrim, who were scattered among the orcs.
Pippin watched the great wizard travel among the carnage. “Oh Mithrandir,” he thought, following the wizard’s progress through the morning mist, “what if he is beyond your help? What if Merry is…?” He could not bear the thought. Merry had to be alive.

Pippin was tired and cold after two hours of searching for his dear friend. Suddenly Aragorn, the future king of Gondor, Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, and Gimli, son of a dwarven king, appeared out of the mist. All of them were close friends to Pippin and Merry.
“Pippin! You rascal! You – you – oh blast it, you hooligan!” Gimli waddled to the hobbit and hugged him dearly. Pippin did not disguise his joy.
“Aragorn! Gimli! Legolas! This is wonderful!” Pippin rushed to each friend in turn, and their reunion was joyous. “Do any of you know where Merry is?”
“No lad, “Gimli replied gravely. “To our knowledge, King Theoden left him behind. A battlefield -”
“- Is no place for a hobbit,” Pippin finished sadly. “I know this; I understand it! But Merry would not have wanted to stay behind, I know it, because… because I wouldn’t have wanted to stay behind. He has to be here!”
Aragorn said, “We would help when and where we can, but do not trust hope. It has the ability to make you love and hate with the same emotion.” With that, Aragorn stood up and began to follow Pippin.
Legolas said, “If Merry was here, and I am hoping he is not, where would he be?” The party stopped.
“He would be in the midst of the fighting,” Pippin said thoughtfully, “but, as a hobbit, he would be kept away from the worst of the battle. My guess is that he -”
“- Would be with Eowyn,” Aragorn completed. His face, normally a dark, ruddy complexion, had blanched paper-white. “Eowyn could not have bared being left behind, and she was one of the only people who were kind to Merry.” With that Aragorn ran ahead, scouting for the woman whom he had come to regard as a sister.
Eowyn was, in fact, on the battlefield. Weeping for her dead uncle, and cradling her broken arm, she had crawled away from Theoden and Snowmane to die. “Forth Eorlingas… as though it did any good,” she muttered cynically. Cynicism was the only thing keeping her from crying in fear of death. “The Kings of Meduseld must frown….” She panted, unable to mask a sudden spasm of pain. “The…the Kings of the Golden Hall must frown…upon maidens in war.” Besides her the Witch-King lay dead, by her sword. Only then did she remember Merry, and the assistance he had given her in all their ridings.

Pippin was about twenty feet away from Eowyn when he came upon Eomer, the king of Rohan, although he did not know it yet.
“Pippin, what are you doing on these fields of battle? The Fields of Pelennor is not a place for a hobbit.”
“I wish everyone would stop saying that!” Pip cried out. “I am perfectly entitled to walk amongst the people I have grown to care for, and I must search for Merry! Have you seen him?”
Eomer shook his head. “No, I haven’t. My uncle…gently forbade his riding with the Rohirrim, although knowing that hobbit, he will have undoubtedly come with us.”
“And what of Eowyn? Do you know where she might be?” Pippin inquired desperately.
Eomer said, “She is in Edoras, Pippin. Theoden ordered her to take up his stead. In fact, have you seen Theoden?”
“No, Eomer, I haven’t seen the King,” Pippin mumbled. He walked dejectedly away from the new King of Rohan.

Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas scouted the massacre that was Pelennor Fields. “Legolas!” Aragorn shouted to the Elf, “What do your keen Elf-eyes perceive in this fog?”
Legolas replied, “Nothing, Aragorn! This mist is like a shield for all whom do not want to be seen by my eyes!” He climbed upon a dying Oliphaunt for more height. A small, weak, blond figure caught his eye.
“Aragorn! I think I can see her!”
Aragorn waited until Legolas was back on the ground to ask, “Where is she? I would be surprised if she was not in great pain.”
Legolas pointed to the northwest, close to the center of the Fields. “She is in the core of the battle.”
“Then we will hurry. Come, friends!”
Aragorn was two steps away when Legolas said, “Aragorn! There is something else.”
“What?”
“An ancient evil rests near her. It is dead, but…evil flows from its corpse. We need to take care whilst we are near her.”

Pippin was still searching for Merry. It was getting late, and he was getting very anxious. “Merry!” He shouted. “Merry!”
He came upon a dead Oliphaunt. He had seen these colossal beasts from his perch in Minas Tirith. An orc, lying dead on the ground, caught his eye. Pip approached the evil being cautiously. It was dead, he could see that. However, the young hobbit lying underneath the crushing weight of the orc was still alive.
“Merry!” Pippin sobbed. He rolled the dead orc off of his wounded friend. “Merry, it’s me! It’s…its Pippin!” He stroked Merry’s brow tenderly.
“Pippin?” Merry questioned feebly. He coughed heartily, and blood sputtered out of his mouth.
“It’s me Merry…. I’m here.”
“I knew you’d find me Pip,” Merry said, with a hint of a smile. “You’re not one to sit…around and let other…people do your duty.”
“You’re right, Merry,” Pippin whispered, “I’m here, and I’m going to look after you. You’re not going to be alone.”
“You’re not going to leave me?”
“No Merry….”

Aragorn came upon Eowyn, who was lying near death not far from where Pippin and Merry rested. “Eowyn….” Aragorn breathed. He situated himself next to her, while Legolas sat on her other side. This was when Aragorn noticed the dead Fell Beast and cloak of the Witch-King.
“Eowyn has killed the creature that no living man could kill!” Gimli cried joyously.
Eowyn coughed and said, “I am no man…. I am a shieldmaiden of Rohan.”
Legolas said hurriedly, “She needs medicine to draw out its evil poison. I do not know of anything that could cure such an ailment.”
“We must get her to Minas Tirith,” Aragorn said. Then he noticed two things: King Theoden and Snowmane lying dead, and Pippin cradling Merry near the Oliphaunt. “Legolas, bring the hobbits to Minas Tirith! Merry looks to be in dire need of medical attention. Gimli, alert Eomer that his uncle is dead. Funeral preparations will need to be made.”
Pippin looked up to see Legolas offering a hand. “Come, Master Pippin. Merry will be in Aragorn’s care.” Pippin stood up using Legolas’ offered hand.
“Are you sure that Merry’ll be all right?” Pippin asked anxiously.
Legolas smiled. “Do you not trust Aragorn? The best healing is done by a King.” With that Legolas scooped up the bruised and broken hobbit while Pippin trailed behind.