A Second Victory

Amidst a sea of floodwater, surrounded by food in a newly discovered store room, Peregrin Took, Pippin, was a very happy hobbit. With the company of his best friend and cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck or Merry, Pippin was still filled with excitement from the destruction of Isengard, and even more excited that he was still the tallest hobbit in history at four feet six inches, thanks to a draught provided by Treebeard their new ent friend. But more than excited Pippin was hungry, and missing the meals in the Shire as he often did. He had not one day had all seven meals since the start of the journey. Twice he had managed both a breakfast and second breakfast, though no elevenses, luncheon, or afternoon tea and only supper but not dinner, which is why this store room was such a wonderful find, especially because they could only expect whatever food they find to be moldy or otherwise damaged from the flood.

It began with an apple, floating waist-high amongst the floodwaters. One apple led to another and another, before finding a turkey and the basket from which the apples had most likely come in the doorway of this store room. The room was slightly elevated, keeping the water a shallow puddle around the doorway and leaving the rest of the room untouched. Pippin hadn't seen so much food since Bilbo's one hundred eleventieth birthday and there couldn't be a more welcome sight. There were heads of lettuce as big as Treebeard's thumb; large sacks of potatoes, carrots, turnips, and other various vegetables; enough barrels of ale to satisfy the thirst of a crew of dwarves after a hard days work with enough salted pork to match; and to both Merry and Pippin's delight, there were two barrels of longbottom leaf, the finest pipeweed in the South Farthing, with an aroma far sweeter than any pipeweed Pippin had seen before.

"It's perfect!" exclaimed Pippin passing a barrel to Merry. "One Barrel each." Looking at his barrel he found himself overjoyed with having had this second victory in Isengard, and upon remembering the first victory he had a sudden realization. "Wait! Do you think we should share it with Treebeard?"

"Share it!?" Merry responded, almost shocked at the possibility, thinking about it for just a moment. "No...No, dead plant and all that, don't think he'd understand." Upon seeing a look of confusion on Pippin's face he leans in close, as if sharing a secret. "Could be a distant relative."

Pippin takes note of how clever Merry is, like he always is, realizing it may be best to not tell Treebeard at all, seeing how most outside of the Shire frown upon the smoking of pipeweed.

"Oh, I get it." Pippin said with a smile and a look of understanding. "Don't be hasty." Using Treebeard's words to support the decision.

Pulling out his long wooden pipe Merry returns the smile with an affirmatory "Exactly." Before puffing on his pipe and imitating Treebeard.

Full of joy the two Hobbits laughed. A good hard laugh that was well deserved and long overdue as they always are. They laughed and laughed and begun to pack bowls of the leaf in their respective pipes. They puffed upon their pipes long in the store room, sharing jests, drinking ale, and practicing smoke tricks. Being younger than Merry, Pippin found his smoke tricks rather lacking while Merry's seemed grand. Pippin could blow rings, but Merry could blow enormous rings, and then more rings through those, such that it would become a floating target of smoke. Pippin could Elvish-inhale, meaning he could take a draw from his pipe, let the smoke out of his mouth and inhale it through his nose, but Merry could Elvish-inhale into a Dwarven-exhale which involved smoke leaving the ears. The skill Pippin was best at was a re-inhale of sorts, where he would draw from his pipe expel the smoke as a dense, white cloud and suck it back in in one fluid motion, but Merry was still arguably better.

"Do you ever wonder how Gandalf can make such great things out of his smoke?" Pippin pondered aloud.

"Well that's simple, isn't it?" Merry replied, always quick with an answer. "He's a wizard."

"Yes well I know that. But his being a wizard seems to be extremely helpful with things like his fireworks, I think his tricks must be skill." Pippin argued.

"Do you know what I've seen Gandalf make with his smoke? A boat. Not just a row boat either, it was a ship, with sails. I even think he may have had a few birds flying around the top. How would he do that if not with magic?" Merry rebuked.

"His being a wizard probably doesn't hurt," Pippin replied, "but look at how much better of tricks you can do than me and you are only eight years older than I am. Think of how many more years of experience Gandalf has over both of us. I bet another experienced smoker could rival Gandalf if not beat him."

Now having sat and smoked pipeweed for a long time, Pippin found his hunger unbearable, but with the store room as crowded as it was and the kitchen next door flooded the hobbits needed to venture outside of Isengard into the nearby forest for some wood to build a cooking fire. In a storm of unbearable starvation, Pippin began collecting items for a sort of picnic in a frenzy. He grabbed the salted pork, rushing past Merry who was still engrossed in his South Farthing pipeweed, to grab a turkey plucked and seasoned, a few fish, some potatoes, peas, carrots, and other ingredients for a stew. Having found Pippin on a mission to bring any and all foods that they had, Merry decided to find a way to transport it all. Just outside the doorway was a large variety of driftwood, which he quickly bound together into a small raft. Upon bringing the raft back inside, Merry found Pippin, or not so much Pippin as a large pile of food covering Pippin's body. Swaying like a drunkard, Pippin kept running into the walls and shelves breaking bottle after bottle of oil, which were in a very precarious position due to the flood, with the broken glass and all of the bottles' contents spilling into the water in the doorway.

"Watch yourself Pip! Remember, don't be hasty." Merry jeered, chuckling at his younger cousin. "Don't want to drop that salted pork now do we?" Finding a new equilibrium with his mountain of food, Pippin regained composure, "Wouldn't dream of it Merry, I just wanted to make sure we each had a cask of ale." Flashing a grin, Pippin dumped his load onto the raft, and they were off. Floating his creation over the waters, Merry noticed that the surface of the water looked different than normal water, as if there was something forming a layer just on top of the water. Though normally very thoughtful on this sort of thing, he decided that it may be best to save it for after dinner as he was very hungry, and it was looking to be quite the feast. They waded their way to outside the front gate where Merry found a nice spot to set up camp and began to make preparations while Pippin went out in search of the firewood.

Walking through Fangorn forest, Pippin gathered a lot of good, dry kindling lying around fangorn forest, with good starter logs which he took to Merry to begin the fire while Pippin went out again to find more wood to keep the fire going. During his second trip, Pippin discovered a familiar and sweet scent amidst the trees. Upon further inspection, he found a lone ent sitting in a large clearing with his back to a tall, white rock wall and his eyes looking up through the trees, fixed on the slowly moving and color changing clouds as they were nearing sunset. Pippin found him puffing on a giant pipe made out of what Pippin could only assume to be stone, sitting next to the largest bag of longbottom leaf that Pippin had ever seen, it had to be four times the size of himself. This ent was an old willow tree, with long, braided willows for hair and some short white whiskers, with a kind, wise face implanted into his bark. Pippin had never seen this ent before, but felt an immediate need to meet him...though he was a bit frightened to introduce himself alone. He was an ent and ents are gentle, but they are quite large as well and seeing that there is strength in numbers, Pippin decided it couldn't hurt to bring Merry the logs he had collected thus far and grab him to bring him to this mysterious new ent.

"Merry! You'll never guess what I've seen." Pippin said excitedly to his cousin who was engrossed in the foods, trying to decide the order to eat for dinner.

"What is it Pip?" Merry replied, suddenly disinterested in food.

"It's an ent, he's out in Fangorn Forest all alone," Pippin explained. "And I think he's smoking pipeweed."

"No way," Merry said in disbelief. "Show me."

So back into Fangorn Pippin goes, with Merry right on his heels. He zigs and zags along the same path he had taken before, finding his way back to the tall rock in the clearing.

"Do you smell that?" Merry asked, sniffing the air like a dog looking for food.

"Yes!" Pippin responded happily, "I told you he was out here smoking pipeweed."

Continuing along their root-filled path, they happen upon a large, white rock.

"This is it Merry." Pippin whispered, suddenly worried of the possibilities when they go around this rock. "I found him in this clearing."

Cautiously the two hobbits moved along the base of the rock, ever so quiet as to not alert a potential threat. Peeking their heads around the rock, they find the same kindly, old willow tree in the same spot with the same giant sack of pipeweed and large, black stone pipe.

"Sweet Ainur that's a lot of pipeweed!" Merry shouted surprised.

Merry's surprise only helped to shock the ent who was sitting enjoying the quiet "Who goes there?" He asked in a deep, slow, grinding, yet kind voice.

"We are just two Hobbits from the shire." Pippin replied nervously, "We helped Treebeard defeat Isengard, and when gathering some wood, I noticed you. We know all of the other ents and I wanted us to introduce ourselves," Pippin went on, "I'm Pippin and this is Merry, is that by chance longbottom leaf you're smoking?" Pippin asked.

"Why yes it is." The ent responded, "That's a keen eye you've got there."

"I've got an even keener nose." Pippin declared proudly.

The ent chuckled a deep, rusty-sounding laugh, "I suppose that is just as useful isn't it?"

"Indeed it is." Merry agreed, "What should we call you?"

In a booming, deep, and wise voice, the guardian of the forest replied, "My name is Willowsnare." Before adding in a kinder tone, "But you can call me Willie."