~Pippin touched the skeleton and the head fell into the well. He heard it clanking. Everyone looked at him just as the rest of the skeleton and the bucket fell down the well. Gandalf came towards him. Pippin squinted his eyes closed as he heard the ruckus fall down the well and hit the bottom. Gandalf stepped right too him and took his hat and staff back.
"Fool of Took!" he walked back. "Let us hope your presence has gone unnoticed."
That's when the Orcs and cave troll came in. it had been a horrible battle scene, Frodo almost got killed, as did Sam. They managed to kill the troll and fend off the Orcs. But the demon started to chase them. Down the massive steps they ran, they're hearts pounding with fear.
"You shall not pass!" Gandalf yelled at the demon and he hit his staff to the bridge. It broke and the demon fell. As Gandalf turned, the fire whip grabbed his leg, causing him to fall.
"Gandalf!" Frodo tried to go to his side.
"Fly you fools," Gandalf said and he let go.
"No!" Frodo yelled, but Boromir carried him out.
They walked out of the cave. Pippin couldn't walk anymore. He fell to the ground in tears. Merry caught him and they both reached the ground. Merry nestled Pippin as they both sobbed.~
"No!" Pippin sat up in his cold sweat. Branwyn walked over to him.
"What's wrong?" she asked dipping the cloth in the water again.
"Its my fault…" he replied. He looked at her with tears rolling down his cheek. "Its my fault Gandalf is dead…if I hadn't…if I hadn't touched that stupid skeleton then…then he's still be alive…and we'd be with Frodo and Sam and…and Boromir would be alive…and…and we wouldn't be stuck out here in the middle of the woods-"
"Shh…its okay," Branwyn said. She dabbed his face with water, whipping the sweat and tears.
"No, no its not okay," he stood up. "If…if I wasn't…wasn't such a fool then…then he would still be alive!"
"Pippin…Pippin listen to me!" she stood up next to him then grabbed his shoulders pulling him down to her level. "You are sick okay? You're not thinking clearly! Just lay down and get some sleep."
"What's going on?" Merry asked, waking up.
"Nothing, go back to sleep,"
"If…if I hadn't come…Gandalf would still be here,"
"No Pippin, you had nothing to do with his death. You need to get some rest…lay down," slowly Pippin nodded his head and sniffled. "Come here." She guided his head down and he rested his head on her lap. He looked at the sky…sniffling and shivering. She dabbed his forehead again. "Its gonna be okay…tomorrow we'll head for Mordor…then we'll find them and you can head home…"
"I want to go home," he said before slowly slipping into sleep.
"Is he going to be okay?" Merry asked again.
"He'll be fine, he's just sick," Branwyn assured. "As long as we keep him warm, and give him lots of water, he should make it until you get back to your village."
"Should? He should make it?" he replied, slightly outraged.
"He is very sick and he needs medication, have you no doctors in your village?"
"We have doctors but…why can't we just take him there now?"
"Because I need to help make sure the ring is destroyed. Now go back to sleep," Merry mumbled some cursing then rolled away from her to face the open woods. Branwyn looked back down to Pippin, whose face was twitching with a nightmare and shivering with a cold sweat and she hoped that she was right. That he'd be able to make it to Mordor then back to the Shire.