"Uncle Samwise needs you!"
The posters where everywhere now! Ever since the fellowship had disbanded, and the members scattered, Sam has made quite a name for himself, rising through the ranks of the Middle-earthen navy to become the first ever admiral who was a hobbit.
While all this was running through his mind, Legolas heard the man in the adjacent room rise, and come to meet him. The door swung open, missing Legolas' leg by an inch. Legolas bowed respectfully, and followed the man into his office.
"Now, tell me why you want to join the navy."
Legolas thought for a minute. Annoyance at Sam's success? No. Desire to serve Middle-earth? Nah, too corny. He picked the first thing that came to mind.
"I want to serve Middle-earth."
Damn. He cursed his brain silently, as his interviewer started to smirk.
"I see… Are you a people person?" Legolas thought of his frequent row with his father, and most mortals.
"Of course!"
"Ok then." She checked a box. "As far as you know, do you suffer from sea-sickness?"
"Good. Finally, do you like chickens?"
"What?"
"Chickens. You know, feathers, beaks, wings, they lay eggs? Sound familiar? Good. Now, I'll ask again. Do you like chickens?"
"Uhhh…Sure."
"Good. Congratulations, you're in! You passed the Medical exam, I take it?" Legolas shuddered, and nodded.
"Just as well. Fill in this form, and come back in two days. See you then!"
Legolas sighed, and left the room.
Pippin opened the brown envelope with a sigh, knowing exactly what it was. Sure enough, he was right, and tossed the important-looking letter into the garbage can.
Two days later, he received another letter of the same sort. After a lengthy think, he decided that he may as well humour the sender, and decided he may as well go. After packing up and tying up a few loose ends, (sending a few letters, watering his plants, having lunch, and other such menial tasks), he left. He was on his way to join the navy.
When he arrived, he signed in, and strolled over to his ship. To the on looking squirrel, he was quite calm, until he stopped dead, looking thoughtful. He had just realised something important: He was taking this navy business far too seriously. He arrived at his ship with a broad smile on his face. It was time to let the authorities see what they were dealing with.
After half an hour, Pippin stood back to admire his work. The entire deck of his ship was covered in flour, painstakingly drawn into intricate patterns. He slid down the railings to the ships store-room. He opened a box at random, and looked inside. In the box was a soft black powder. Pippin smiled, sifting a small amount through his hands.
After a while, he had stopped playing with the pretty substance, and was now preparing to take a short break. He took out his pipe, and went to light a match.
"I don't think so!"
A loud voice came out of the dark shadows in the corner of the room. Pippin winced, as the speaker snatched his pipe and matches, snapping them in half. He crossed the room in a single stride, and lent his face close to Pippin's.
"Do know what that stuff is?"
"N…No"
"Gunpowder. Light a match near that, and you can forget about staying in one piece. Do you know what the navy does to fools who strike a match near gunpowder?"
"No"
"Let me show you…"
And thus it was that Pippin spent his first night in the navy sitting in a jail cell.