7. Some Say the World Will End...
Some Say the World Will End...
“Merry, how long has it been?”
“Since what, Pippin?”
“Since what? What do you think? Since we’ve been strapped to these orcs.”
“I’m not sure. A few days, I guess.”
“Far too long, I’d say.”
“Too right, Pippin.”
As if on cue, the hoard of Uruk-Hai stopped to make camp for the night at the edge of a forest.
Before the Uruk had the chance to put him down, Pippin tightened his grip on the villain’s neck. It reached back to smack him, but before the arm got there, it froze in mid-air.
No, literally, it froze. With a sickening crackle, the Uruk became one giant popsicle. Pippin snapped the rope that bound his hands (pretty easy now that they, too, were brittle as ice) and hopped to the ground.
He smiled at Merry, whose Uruk was now a smoking pile of ash. Merry grinned playfully and blew out a small flame that lingered on his fingertip.
Sharing a gleeful look, they turned back to back to face the orcs and Uruks that, already surrounding them, finally noticed what had happened. Then Merry burst into flames and Pippin morphed into a moving ice sculpture.
The orcs fell on them like a wave, howling and clanging their armor. Merry reached out and a column of fire spewed from his hand, throwing several orcs back a dozen feet, where they landed as charred skeletons. Pippin just pointed to the orc nearest him and an icicle shot out like an arrow and pierced the orc’s neck.
For about a minute, it was a wild scene: orcs screaming, hobbits laughing, fireballs flying, frozen Uruks being shattered by their own fellows. It might seem easy that the cousins would have hurt each other, but, whether by practice or nature, they didn’t. They had finished off a quarter of their enemy when they heard the blast of a horn.
The orcs turned to face the Riders that bore down on them now, running to them partly out of lust for battle and partly out of desire for one they could win. Merry made to chase after the orcs, but Pippin grabbed his wrist, the contact of ice and fire strangely doing nothing to either.
“Wait, Merry,” he insisted, “They won’t get far.” He looked to the treeline, where one lone orc was heading for the forest. “Let’s get that one.”
Merry nodded, but instead of running after it, he created a fireball, aimed with all the precision a hobbit possesses, and threw it. The hobbits whooped in victory when the fireball hit the orc and flame spread across its back. Then the screaming orc continued running into the forest and they stopped cheering.
“That’s not good.”
They sprinted forward, charging into the forest. When they broke the treeline, it wasn’t hard to find the orc. It was still screaming and running around, flailing wildly, trying to put the fire out but setting every tree alight in the process.
“Yipe!” Pippin yelled, then looked at his cousin in panic, “Merry, your fire! You’ll make it worse!”
Realizing he was already singeing the grass, Merry returned to his normal state while Pippin ran after the orc. With a quick blast of cold air, the younger hobbit extinguished the orc, who was already well beyond saving. As he tried his best to put the tree fires out, Merry heard a booming voice behind him.
“Hoom! What orc magic is this?!”
Merry turned to see that a tree behind him had come alive and was talking, and it looked very angry. Startled and unable to stop himself, his flames exploded from his body. He threw his hands up to ward the tree off, but inadvertently sent out a shower of fire. Treebeard howled in pain and anger and Merry, now startled at his own response, yanked his arms away from pointing at the ent. Unfortunately, he didn’t look to see where they were now pointing or see that the flaming was turned off and he proceeded to send fire to the trees on either side of him.
By the time Pippin turned back to him with a satisfied smile, one side of the forest was frozen while the other was burning. When he saw even more fire, he panicked again, but didn’t have time to do so properly when he heard a voice yell out through the forest.
“What have you two done?!”
Suddenly there was a bright light and they could make out a robe and a staff. Before letting the light subside or the voice say any more, Pippin shouted, “The white wizard!” and blasted the figure with freezing air. He didn’t stop blasting until the wizard was encased in a block of ice.
When they saw the face of the stranger through the ice, they were so terrified and ashamed and just generally stunned that Merry’s self-fire fizzled out and Pippin’s ice visage evaporated away. Gandalf’s glowering face stared back at them. They were certainly happy he was back, but they were terrified at what he might now do to them when he worked his way out of the ice, as it was clear he was already doing.
“This isn’t good, Pippin.”
“I’m afraid there’s more bad news, Merry.”
“You burned off all your clothes again.”
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.