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rabidsamfan1) 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...
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...
