Part Two:
Pippin had told them all how it had happened. The Three Hunters and the White Wizard sat with the small hobbit in Fangorn Forest where they'd met and listened to the sad tale. Gandalf would only allow them a precious few moments to listen before they were off again, and so Pippin had told only the important details.
After they had split up at Amon Hen, Merry and Pippin had been left alone to either run into the forest, or fight off the Uruk-Hai that threatened the Fellowship. Pippin's voice lowered to nearly a whisper as he told haltingly of Boromir saving them from being slain. As he told of each arrow, his voice quivered so much as to be almost intelligible. He fell silent then, and for a long moment would not speak, until Gandalf put a comforting hand on his small shoulder. Pippin, seeming to draw strength from the wizard's touch, took a deep breath and continued.
He had been knocked unconscious, but when he woke found his hands bound painfully around the thick neck of a running Uruk-Hai. It was a position he would be in for close to a week, save for when he and Merry were flung to the ground while their captors rested. Pippin, fearing for their lives, simply kept quiet on their journey, save for stolen whispers to Merry. Merry however, would have none of it.
Perhaps it was a residue of Boromir's heroism and courage, but something had gotten into the small Brandybuck to make him challenge every order the Orcs gave them. When he did they would strike him, until Pippin would beg them to stop, and then their leader would finally remind his group that the hobbits were not to be harmed. Merry knew of this well and used it, testing further his limits with the brutal overseers, never giving in to anything. Pippin had pleaded with his cousin repeatedly to stop and accept their fate, but he was too stubborn and never gave up. Finally, it was his end.
On the fifth night since they'd been caught, they reached the outskirts of Fangorn. Merry and Pippin were again flung to the ground while the Uruks built a fire. Not too long after a great commotion began and many riders came out of nowhere, assailing the unsuspecting Orcs.
Joy and hope soon rose within the hobbits at their arrival, but it was quickly subdued as they realized that this was just another danger. Fighting was all around them and the two hobbits, being underfoot, had several near-misses with spears, swords and hooves. Together they began to run for the forest, but as they did Merry was grabbed from behind.
Pippin turned to see Merry fighting with the orc who had grabbed him, kicking and punching for all he was worth. Pippin was about to run to help him but froze in his spot with horror. One of the Rohirrim, spotting the pair on the ground, threw a spear that shot through the orc, and out of Merry.
And then there were five.
Pippin fell silent, unable to continue as his voice and body trembled. Gandalf hugged him and told the others of how he'd found him huddled among the bushes, terrified and alone.
"But now we must move on," said Aragorn. "The Ents sleep here, and we should not disturb that which wishes to be left alone." They all agreed and each mounted their horse, Pippin riding with Gandalf upon Shadowfax. Together the company left the woods, heading south to Edoras.
"Legolas?" He started and blinked, turning to look at the hobbit behind him. Pippin looked up at him with great concern, prompting a weak smile from the elf. "Are we leaving?" Legolas turned back to the horizon, seeing that the sun had been up for several hours. He had been so involved in memories he hadn't noticed the light he'd been staring at. He turned back.
"Yes, Pippin, we will go." He went with Pippin back to their small camp and gathered their things. Then they shouldered their packs and prepared themselves to make the perilous journey through the Gap of Rohan, the lands now controlled by the renegade wizard Saurman.