Golden wanted a little story about what Merry was thinking when the Rohirrim arrive at Minas Tirith - movie version. Most all of the lines in quotes are taken from the movie “The Return of the King”.
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For Our Friends

I’m hot, sweaty and strangely out of breath. It is easy at times to forget how much work it actually is to ride a horse, especially one that is going at a full gallop; especially when you aren’t seated in the saddle. But we’ve slowed now; slowed to a stealthy walk up a low rise. For some strange reason, I’m breathing harder now than I was before.

We have been able to see the city for a while now, growing ever bigger as we’ve drawn ever nearer, but the rise blocked our view of the plains that I’ve been told lie at the foot of the huge jutting mountain. The clouds have lightened behind us as we have come from the Northwest, and the reflected light of the rising sun now glows around us, but, before us and to the East, the clouds hang as thick and black as any thunder storm I have ever seen.

Pippin is somewhere in that huge city under that evil gloom.

I am staring where the city seems to touch the heavy clouds when I realize we have come to a standstill and I hear my Lady Eowyn gasp sharply. I lower my gaze.

I feel my blood draining from my head to run like ice through my body. My eyes widen till it feels as though they shall drop from their sockets.

Orcs!

The valley before us is black with an endless crop of Orcs!

The noise and the stench of the battle waft up to us on a fetid breeze before the brisk wind behind us tries to force it back down into the valley.

“Pippin! Pippin!” my heart is screaming although my mouth is silent.

There is no hope on the plains before us, only death.

My lady is gasping in shallow breaths; I’m not sure that I’m breathing at all. I feel her arm around me, just below my throat, and I clasp her wrist with my right hand. She leans forward as she tightens her grip on me, pulling me more tightly to her chest.

“Courage Merry!” I hear her say in a voice barely loud enough to be heard through the metal of my helmet. “Courage for our friends!”

Friends. Friends?

We don’t know if Strider, Legolas and Gimli are even in the city or on that embattled field. They are my friends.

Gandalf is there . . . somewhere. He is my friend, as much as one can be friends with someone as mysterious as a wizard.

But Pippin is no friend. Pippin is my kin. More brother than cousin. Pippin is nearly half of me. My wide open eyes continue to stare at the seething mass of Orcs before me.

King Theoden is speaking. “Fear no darkness!” he shouts. He is trying to stir our hearts for what lies ahead.

I don’t want to be stirred.

“Whatever happens,” my Lady says to me as she still clutches me tightly, “stay with me. I’ll look after you.”

I weakly nod my head in response. Normally, I would have been angry with any Big Person saying they will look after me. Now, however, nothing is normal and I only hope she can.

The King begins to ride down the long line of riders, clanging his sword against their spears.

“Ride now!” he shouts. “Ride now! Ride! Ride to ruin . . . and the world’s ending!”

He turns Snowmane toward the battle line; toward the field of Orcs.

“Death!” he shouts.

“Death!” the riders all around us shout in reply.

I cringe. I sense my Lady Eowyn doing the same.

“Death!” shouts the King.

“Death” the riders reply.

Yes!

My heart suddenly leaps within my chest.

Death! Death to the Orcs! The field before us stands ready to harvest!

“Death!” screams my King.

“Death!” I raise my sword high, my voice is one of the first to respond, close followed by my Lady’s.

Everything pauses for a moment then . . .

“Forth Eorlingas!” King Theoden commands.

The horns of the Rohirrim sound a mighty blast.

We are flying forward on the thundering sounds of horns and hoofbeats . . .

. . . for our friends.