Pippin groaned as he landed hard on the ground, the thud of Merry's landing echoing his own soon after. Pippin's arms were useless weights after clinging to the orc's neck all day. He and his cousin lay still as they watched the orcs stomp away, grumbling about carrying prisoners with two working legs.

They were alone in the deepening dusk. Pippin slowly sat up and looked to the fading light in the west, where the dark of Fangorn Forest loomed. He remembered the warning of Lord Celeborn and shivered. Would the orcs take them in there?

Something tugged on his arms, and then Merry grabbed his hands, still bound together, and began shaking them vigorously, so that his arms swung up and down. "What are you doing?"

"Your arms are numb, aren't they?" Pippin nodded. "Well, this ought to get the blood moving again."

"Right." Pippin allowed Merry to continue until he felt the prickle of returning circulation in his fingers. "Ooh, pin pricks." He shook off Merry's hands. "Now let me return the favor."

After a few minutes, both hobbits were feeling more fully limbed. Pippin was examining the knots on the ropes binding his wrists when Merry squeezed his arm hard. "That's quite enough now, Mer—"

"Shush! Look!"

Pippin followed Merry's look, but saw nothing unusual. That is, he saw a bunch of smelly orcs arguing, as they always seemed to do. Many of the creatures glanced over at them often. The two appeared unguarded, but they were not unnoticed. Even in the dark, the brutes would see every move. Pippin looked back at Merry. "Yes, Merry. We're surrounded by orcs. Your point?"

"That one, over there. Look at what he's holding."

Pippin watched for a creature holding anything of interest. The grey orcs seemed to blend in with the twilight and he could barely distinguish one from another. Many walked at all times with their weapons in hand, as if always ready for battle. More often, it seemed the battle was with another orc. They brandished swords carelessly, threatening each other on a whim. Then Pippin saw something that struck him as vaguely familiar. He frowned as he tried to remember.

"If you don't say that's Gimli's axe, I'll shear the hair off my feet!"

"That's it! I couldn't place it without-" Pippin stopped suddenly and swallowed. "But if he's got Gimli's axe..." He looked at Merry with concern. "That doesn't bode well, does it?"

"No, Pip. It doesn't, not at all." Merry seemed deep in thought as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "He must have continued to fight the orcs, tried to rescue us."

Pippin wondered at Merry's words. "Instead of taking Frodo to ...where they're headed?"

"Maybe. They might have split up. The others would continue on-"

"Maybe they changed plans. Boromir wanted to go-" Pippin's last sight of Boromir loomed before him suddenly, complete with arrows. "Oh."

"Maybe Gimli had to go alone," Merry said quietly. "Although, if an orc is walking around with his axe..." Pressing his lips together firmly, he looked at Pippin. "I've heard they take the weapons of those they've slain."

Pippin stared at his cousin, eyes wide with horror. "Merry! How can you-don't say such a thing!"

"Look around us, Pip. We've got ourselves in a mess. This isn't Old Maggot's Farm. We won't get out of this with just some cleverness. We have to face the truth, no matter how bad it is."

Pippin bit his lip. "Can you not see any hope for them?" He added in a whisper, "Have we no friends left at all?"

"I don't know, Pip. It's hard here, among these beasts, to find such assurance."

Recalling the many times when Merry had raised him up out of despair, Pippin realized now was the moment to be strong for Merry, and he drew himself up. "Well, you must. Whether there is hope to be had or none at all, we must hold onto ours. It's the only way that we'll get out of this. That much I know."

Merry rewarded Pippin with a small smile. "We hope then. Whether it makes sense or no."

Pippin beamed. "That's my Merry." His smile faded as he looked out among the orcs. "An orc may have Gimli's axe, but Gimli may yet live."

"He may." Merry's look grew distant. "He tried to rescue us, that's what he did. But not alone, I think. Legolas would not be parted from him." He looked back to Pippin with a solemn expression. "They must have trailed the army, but then something went wrong."

Pippin nodded, allowing Merry to create a new fate for their friends. "I can't imagine what would make Gimli give up his axe." Pippin's chest grew tight, and his throat felt as if it had shut on him.

Suddenly, an orc appeared in front of them then. "Quiet, you two! No talking. No tricks. Got it? We got ways of keeping you quiet that won't upset nobody." The threat in his gravelly voice was clear. The two hobbits looked back at their new guard with wide eyes and closed mouths.

When the orc had stomped off far enough, Merry continued without looking at Pippin. "He would only give up his axe if he had no choice, Pip. If he were captured, for instance."

"Captured!" Pippin glanced at the orc who'd threatened them. Seeing they had no extra attention, he reconsidered Merry's words. Capture was possibly the best chance for Gimli. "Right,"

His cousin frowned sternly. "That's right, Pippin. The rest might have gone off to--" Merry looked up at the guard now paying them no mind and hushed his voice anyway. "--to complete their task." Merry sighed. "Gimli captured, I'd never have imagined it. Gimli is as tough as stone."

Pippin nodded, clamping his eyes and mind shut against more likely tales. Didn't he just tell Merry they must hope even when there was none? It was proving harder to do than to say. "If Legolas went with Gimli as you say, he would be a prisoner with him then!" Pippin frowned. "But Legolas is faster than anyone, Merry. How could he be captured? And by orcs! Bilbo says they hate Elves so!" He thought for a moment, then raised his eyebrows hopefully at Merry. "Perhaps it's part of their plan, to get closer to us."

"I suppose." Merry's voice held no conviction, and Pippin's optimism faltered.

Pippin looked at his filthy feet. "I hate to think they've been captured because of us. Perhaps they haven't been captured! Perhaps--"

Merry gave Pippin a fierce look, his brow furrowed deeply. "An orc is walking around with Gimli's axe! What better explanation can you give-what explanation do you prefer for why that orc has his--?"

"Ai! Do I have to teach you the meaning of quiet? Hush now! If I have to go over there and leave this hunk of meat behind, it won't be here when I come back. Then you'll have to provide some meat for me!" With a threatening glare, the apparent guard returned to his meat.

When he dared to speak again, Merry looked straight ahead, despair thick in his voice. "What better scene can you imagine that ends with an orc walking away with Gimli's axe?" He took a deep breath. "There was a battle, we can be sure of that, and we know they fought fiercely." Pride raised Merry's voice and he had to lower it to a whisper once more. "But with so many orcs, even great warriors as they could not win such a fight."

Merry sighed. "I suppose the escape we were hoping for won't be coming from that direction now."

Pippin closed his eyes. He could not bear the thought of losing more friends. As it was, he could hardly think of Gandalf without being overcome with grief. He did not allow himself to think on Boromir. Additional losses would be more than he could endure.

He believed in the tale they created because he needed it. He was able to feel a bit of relief then in the idea of Gimli's and Legolas's capture, dreadful as it was. They were alive. Alive but prisoners, as he and Merry were. That was enough.

It had to be enough, for there was little else from which to draw comfort. They were likely injured, and the orcs wouldn't treat them too kindly, he imagined. "Well, I suppose it's up to us, then." Pippin looked at Merry expectantly.

Merry's frown slowly turned into a bit of a smile. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We must work something out. We'll have to free them as well, naturally. Wouldn't do to escape and leave them captive."

"Oh, certainly. That wouldn't be polite at all." Pippin smiled back, but like Merry's, it failed quickly. They had no weapons. Their hands were bound so tightly Pippin feared he would never again feel his fingers. And the orcs assigned to them rarely left them alone. Even now, he felt the watchful eyes of their new guard upon them. Escape of any sort was going to be quite a trick.