Here's a challenge for y'all... Add a paragraph....Or even a sentence...

[rabidsamfan]

1) Pippin sauntered past the three layers of guards feeling smug. He’d finally managed to sneak Aragorn out of the Citadel the night before for a break from Kinging, and they’d gone on a glorious tear with the rest of the Fellowship, seeking out every low dive and unrespectable inn in the city before dragging themselves back up to the top of the horrid stairs and depositing the thoroughly beer-soaked Ranger in his quarters. The rest of them were still abed, even Gimli, who had an exceptionally hard head.

2) Pippin himself had decided after the third pint that not even Gandalf was planning to stay sober and since it had been his idea to go pub crawling he’d felt obligated to refrain and steer the rest of them. His virtue was paying dividends now, and he was rather looking over to gloating at Aragorn the same way he’d gloated at the others.

ETA, you might want to number your paragraph, so if the story splits into different trouserlegs of time we can follow along...

Comments

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

Pippin sauntered past the three layers of guards feeling smug. He’d finally managed to sneak Aragorn out of the Citadel the night before for a break from Kinging, and they’d gone on a glorious tear with the rest of the Fellowship, seeking out every low dive and unrespectable inn in the city before dragging themselves back up to the top of the horrid stairs and depositing the thoroughly beer-soaked Ranger in his quarters. The rest of them were still abed, even Gimli, who had an exceptionally hard head.

Pippin himself felt decidedly well; he observed the awakening city with bright eyes and a clear head. It was a great mystery to everyone else why the young Took was able to digest enough ale to sink a ship without suffering from any hangover the day after; when he had sneaked out of the bedroom he shared with Merry half an hour ago, his cousin had opened a glassy eye and murmured something inarticulate with a hoarse voice before burying his throbbing head back into the pillow.

Pippin made his way down to the third circle where he had found a little bakery two weeks ago. They made tasty cinnamon rolls, filled with a mixture of honey, nuts and raisins. The thought alone made his mouth water, and he turned around the corner, following the memory of taste and aroma as unerringly as the needle in a compass. He found himself whistling a tune, and it took him some time to remember what it was. But then the glorious image of a Gimli with glittering eyes and a dangerously tilted helmet appeared in front of his inner eyes and he giggled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, when he remembered the deep, booming voice and the words of the song:

Oh her beard is fine
As the bright gold line
Of a wire in an earring
But she won't bed me
I can't raise the fee
And she's too hard of hearing

The bakery came in sight; Pippin stopped whistling and closed his eyes, inhaling the warm, homely scent of fresh, warm bread with honest delight. When he was about to enter the shop, the door opened and a young girl came out, carrying a plate with small cakes. Pippin dodged to the left and bowed with a big flourish. She had a lovely, heart-shaped face with big, grey eyes that widened even more when she recognized the Ernil i Periannath. Pippin gave her a brilliant smile - she was no hobbit lass, but she was pretty nevertheless - and she blushed deeply and offered him one of the cakes before she walked down the white, sun-bathed street and vanished behind one of the ornate iron gates on the left side.

Two minutes later Pippin entered the bakery, still licking lemon icing from his fingertips, a very satisfied expression on his face. Fame pays off really well he mused, already eying a huge tray full of cinnamon rolls with appreciative eyes. You never grow hungry.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

"Good morning, Sir Perian!" the baker exclaimed. "Will you try one of our morning rolls?" From a tray by the counter the Man produced a confection of bread, cinnamon and icing which was nearly as large as one of Pippin's feet.

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

Lucky enough Pippin was not someone to shy away from a challenge... and though he had just wolfed down the generous gift of the young maiden, there was just a hole to fill here and there, so to speak.

"Thank you, Master Valandil", he retorted with a merry grin, "I should recommend your skills to my father's cook. She would be more than happy to lay her hands on the recipe. Which would enable me , of course, to enjoy a reminder of Minas Tirith's delicacies every morning, as soon as I have returned home."

The thought of Paladin (waiting for news about his only son for nearly one year now) made his grin fade ever-so-slightly. But Master Valandil didn't notice it.

"I will send my apprentice with some of my cinnamon rolls to the palace this morning", he said with a proud smile. "This might make a fine breakfast for the King, don't you think, Sir Perian?"

Pippin hurriedly decided to keep for himself what he was thinking. He had to suppress a giggle when the imagined the expression on the baker's face if he told him that the King of Gondor would probably turn downright green at the thought of cinnamon rolls right now, and that he most certainly would prefer a mug of blackberry tea to soothe his beer-soaked stomach.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

"That's a wonderful idea. In fact, if you'd care to entrust me with them, I'll take them along to the Palace myself," Pippin offered, rather hoping that the baker wouldn't catch on to the fact that he'd offered to carry the rolls to the palace and not quite as far as to the king. Not all of them, anyway.

[lame-pegasus.livejournal.com]

A few minutes later he found himself walking up the streets again, carrying a huge package and leaving behind a pleasant smell of warm pastry. He reached the topmost circle and passed the guards in front of the marble gate to the palace... two tall men, their stern, noble attitude slightly lessend by the fact that they were chewing on fresh cinnamon rolls when he had passed by.

Pippin made his way up the stairs (which was not a small task, for they had been decidedly built for longer legs). He exchanged a merry greeting with the guard keeping watch in front of the wing with the royal chambers (and passed him the next roll which was thankfully accepted), and he was just about to round the last corner to the King's bedroom when he ran into a huge, fat figure, clad in richly embroidered velvet.

"And what", said an oily voice a rather pompous tone, "do we have here?"

Pippin sighed.

"Peregrin Took, at your service", he replied, carefully tugging the paper around the last remaining rolls, "as you should know pretty well, Sir Alandor. I have brought some special delicacies for the breakfast of the King."

"Our liege still rests", the seneschal said solemnly."His duties kept him busy until late in the night, and he needs his sleep."

Pippin peered up at him, suddenly overcome by the overwhelming urge to laugh.

I bet he does, he thought, especially when part of his duty was to empty five enormous tankards of ale and to make up nasty verses about you, my bombastic friend.

[kimbys-place.livejournal.com]

3.What his companions did not know was that Pippin had a card up his sleeve- his great-great uncle Bramble's hangover solution. It had been a bit of work, assembling the ingredients in this faraway land, but at last, with the covert assistance of the King's assistant assistant chemist, Pippin had a wee container of the hangover remedy in his pouch. All he needed was to carefully slip it into a mug of plain water, down it, and then sit back and watch smugly while his compatriots fell one by one. However, never one to tempt Fate (at least not since the rock-throwing incident in Moria) Pippin didn't want to overdo things.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

He composed his face as he reached Aragorn's door and knocked politely. The answering groan ruined the effect however, and Pippin was grinning broadly as he pushed open the door and peeked around it at the tangle of blankets that was hunched away from the light coming in across the foot of the bed.

[dreamflower]

Biting his lip to suppress a chortle, he asked in his most solicitous tone. "Are you well, my liege?" He tiptoed silently into the room and approached the royal bed.

A single bloodshot grey eye opened briefly. "Urghh," came the mumbled response. The face shoved against the pillow with a bit of drool decorating the corner of the mouth was decorated with stubble, and the aroma of stale fumes very nearly overcame Uncle Bramble's potion. With a smirk of satisfaction, Pippin thought delightedly "Strider's back."

For King Elessar had been much in evidence in recent days, and Pippin had missed the scruffy Ranger a good deal. With a nod to himself, he wondered if he'd had similar success with Cousin Frodo, who had also been a bit too solemn.

He felt the potion in his pouch, and looked at the water pitcher that stood on the table by the bed. Should he take mercy on good old Strider, or leave him to the dubious delights of a hangover just a bit longer?

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

He decided to tease Aragorn, just a little, and went over to nudge the Man's elbow. "Hey, hey, Strider. Do you want me to tell them to fetch your breakfast yet?"

Aragorn made a strangled noise and turned a little greener. One large hand came shooting out to knock Pippin away from the bed.

Pippin, startled at finding himself turned arse over teakettle, pulled himself upright ready to protest the treatment, but he found himself backing even farther, as Aragorn hung his head over the side of the bed and was thoroughly sick.

[piratesmoon.livejournal.com]

"Threaten me with food again and I'll have you stripped of rank and tossed out of the city." Aragorn whispered. "What I need is some Bibiana."

Pippin had never heard of it and it was no use asking Merry. (Not in his current condition.) He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I've never heard of it."

"I'm not supprised. It's just legend. Intant hangover cure."

[semyaza.livejournal.com]

The rest of them were still abed, even Gimli, who had an exceptionally hard head.

His smugness was fated to be short-lived, however, for just as he'd negotiated the third set of guards--a ruffianly pair in ill-fitting uniforms--he heard a shout from behind.

"Oy, you in the short pants. Where do you think you're going?"

Pippin, who was accustomed to being referred to as 'Prince of the Halflings', gazed around with a bemused expression.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

"I'm going to see Strider," he answered, and when that didn't enlighten the guards said, "Aragorn... You know, the King."

"A likely tale!" Before he could protest, one of the guards had him by the shoulder in a come-along-with-me-grip and was hauling him down the corridor toward one of the servants' stairs.

[semyaza.livejournal.com]

"I'm Peregrin Took," Pippin ventured. "Knight of the City and of the Mark. Friend to--"

The guards glanced at each other, their faces suffused with mirth. Pippin could have sworn that the taller of the two winked at his companion, but it must have been an effect of the flickering torch-light as it shifted fitfully in the narrow passage.

"Pull the other one, it's got bells on it," said the tall guard, pushing Pippin ahead as they reached the top of the circular staircase. "Down you go, my lad, and no more sauce. Next thing you'll be saying you're Mithrandir himself in clever guise."

Pippin was about to observe that not even Gandalf had the power to impersonate a Took, but there was a gloved hand at his back, a rattle of pikes against cold stone, and nowhere to go except--

"Where are we going?"

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

"You'll find out," the guard growled. He was pulling Pippin along at such a quick pace that it was hard to keep up, and Pippin, tired of being manhandled, decided it was time to assert his own authority.

"I'll have you know..." he began, and got a cuff on the ear for his trouble.

[semyaza.livejournal.com]

"We're going to see Cook," piped up the second guard who had, until then, been silent. "Aren't we, Iarhen?"

Iarhen's groan echoed off the low ceiling.

"You had to go and spoil it for him, didn't you?" he muttered. "It should have been a surprise, but oh no, you couldn't wait."

Pippin, seizing his opportunity, put on what he hoped was a smile worthy of a prince--although after three Gondorian pints, no food since supper the night before, and an indecent amount of gloating, it was a mite shaky--and said, "Breakfast then, is it?"