With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 64: Epilogue

"Pippin, don't be silly. They're your spoils. Besides, if you and Gandalf can smoke on the way, I imagine he'll be a bit less grim."

"We've gone all this way without pipeweed. I imagine Gandalf and I can live a few more days without a smoke. Minas Tirith is a big city! They've got to have pipes. How can you have a proper city without pipes?

"Pip, Big Folk don't smoke. Except for the Rangers, and I think they learned the custom from hobbits. I don't expect that you'll find pipeweed in Minas Tirith.

Instead of looking disappointed, as Merry expected, Pippin looked annoyed. "Well, that's just—just—uncivilized, it is. When my pipeweed runs out, then—"

"Runs out! Here, I thought you were giving me your pipeweed. So, you give me a pipe and nothing to smoke, is that it?"

"Of course not! What do you think of me? I'm giving you half my pipeweed. That way we both will have something to smoke. Not much, mind you. In fact, it's only a few smokes' worth, but it'll do for those moments, you know, when the Shire feels so far away, it seems we'll never get back?"

Merry sobered. Indeed, he knew those moments—he'd had many in Orthanc. Their smoke the night before had brought the Shire closer than it had felt in weeks.

What truly struck Merry was Pippin's acceptance of the coming separation. He had indeed grown into a great and brave hobbit. Merry was proud to be his cousin. He promised himself he would make Pippin as proud of him.

"Merry? Are you going to just stand there with that silly grin and think about pipeweed? Or are you going to take it?" Merry laughed as he accepted Pippin's gifts.

Pippin's smile faded then, as did Merry's. His stomach flipped and he pressed his lips together, refusing to waver in his composure.

"You will find your way to Minas Tirith, won't you, Merry?"

"You can be certain of it, Pippin. The Rohirrim plan to continue to Gondor after they do combat with Sauron's orcs. I shall be with them. Even Gandalf thought it fitting that I accompany Rohan as they ride to war. He knew I was ready and fit to do battle. And this way, he says I might find my way to Minas Tirith. Lady Éowyn said it's very big. So I imagine the city will be easy to find."

"Yes, Gandalf said the same. I only hope it is not so big you can't find one small hobbit in it." Though a bit forlorn, Pippin did not look frightened. Merry's stomach untied a few of its knots.

When Gandalf picked his cousin up and deposited him before him on his horse, Merry forced himself to remember Orthanc. Pippin was not in the hands of orcs. He was with Gandalf. He could be no safer. The pain in Merry's heart eased a small bit.

Éowyn soon arrived and told him he must prepare to ride with the Rohirrim. Seeing the bustle of activity that had sprung up, he wondered if he should be more worried for his own safety. He glanced back at Éowyn as she prodded him on and noticed a sharp look of determination in her eye. Merry decided it must be the look of war.

(o)(o)(o)

As dawn approached, the Rohirrim prepared to set out to meet an army from Mordor, while the three from the Fellowship, with the sons of Elrond and the Dúnedain, prepared to take a road untraveled.

His hand finally free of the sling, Legolas carried his pack to Arod, the horse the Rohirrim had provided for him. He turned as someone approached.

Éowyn's white raiment glowed faintly in the dark. Tension and worry were clear in her eyes. Legolas left the horses to meet her, and Éowyn granted him a brief smile. "My lady, you should smile more often. The dim halls of Meduseld would be brighter for it."