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

[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?"