Pippin and I were captured by the Uruk-Hai in that bright, heavenly forest. We had no idea where Sam or Frodo had gone. We didn’t know where Aragorn, Legolas, or Gimli were either. All we knew was that we were together.

I had stupidly struggled around and hit my head on some sharp piece of metal. All I remember was Pippin’s gentle voice asking me if I was okay. I must have knocked out then. I woke to a drowning in Orc liquor, a vile drink that parched my throat even more. I told Pippin that it was an act, that I wasn’t hurt too badly but just wanted something to quench my thirst. I think that he mostly believed me, but he was skeptical of my excuse.

Days passed and we finally had a chance to escape. Pippin was brave, smart, and stealthy. He freed the two of us and we ran into Fangorn forest. We met Treebeard and asked him to allow us to sit on the ground for a few minutes and rest. The life was draining out of Pippin and I didn’t know why. I checked his arms and legs and stomach for wounds. I checked his head carefully for bruises or gashes. He was perfectly fine physically, but I think his heart was just so overwhelmed with the feelings of fear. He sat in my lap, breathing heavily and freezing. I wrapped my arms around him and rocked him gently, hoping to help him regain some of his strength. I whispered beautiful stories into his ears and he responded with a comment every once in a while. When I talked of the fields he told me he remembered. When I reminded him of the food, and he said he wished he could taste it. I stroked his hair softly until I heard footsteps. I scooped him up in my arms and carried him as far as I could, hoping Treebeard would keep danger away from us.

I carried him for days. We would stop and rest and I would feed him whatever food I had left. He told me to eat it myself but I didn’t listen. Every day, I saw Pippin lose physical strength. He talked me, asking me about everything he could think of. He told me stories when he had strength, stories of when we were young and played games. I wanted to renew his spirit, but I didn’t know how. It finally dawned upon me that the best thing for Pippin would to be to go home. I began our journey north, hoping to reach the shire in a few days, so that Pippin could rest and recover.