Hobbit Interrupted: Bingo Bolger-Baggins

[bingo_bolger_baggins]

Well, this is quite a contrast, isn't it? *pulls his cloak tight about him* It's cold and dreary out here, more so because it was so warm . . . and deliciously inviting in there . . . and was starting to become much warmer still, if we were not interrupted. *sighs*


But perhaps the time wasn't right, seeing that I'm out here right now; my dear Dunedain does need to deal with his troubles with Tobey. And timing is all important with these things, isn't it?

Or is it? We were just reaching for a little bit of fun together, which neither of us have been having much luck finding of late. Still, our bit of fun might have been one more stumbling block for him and Tobey, one which they do not need if they're trying to put things back together between them. But that does seem to be quite a big "if" at this point, isn't it? And if I took him back to the Pantry Smial . . . am I really ready? Sure, I'm quite more than painfully ready on the physical side of things, but . . . is that why I'm hesitating; am I really being considerate of him, or am I but using his relationship for an excuse? *grows glassy eyed* Would the memories there . . . haunt me and intrude on our pleasure?

But enough of this! *chuckles* Obviously I'm going to have to haul this ranger into the wine cellar instead and lock the door. It just doesn't have to be that complicated, does it? *smiles to himself*


And what of this Cele . . . ba . . . Celebrimbor? What does he wish to confide in me? Something that would just entangle me in the twisted paths the Noldor tread no doubt! *puffs and shakes his head*

Still, I'm prejudging again--not that my experience doesn't warrant caution--yet this Noldor just doesn't seem to be one bearing a cloud behind him, but quite the opposite, if I were just to follow my perceptions . . . and not my memories of others so shrouded in blood. *closes his eyes*

*sighs* I am curious though about what he has to tell me. And though curiosity and an open hand can bring cruel doom, so do sword-guarded approaches and doors closed with suspicion. I'd rather walk openly then. And we'll see what Melba and Celly's impressions are when they return--I needn't rely on my own alone. It will take him some time to recover, I suppose.

So why do I have this feeling of foreboding? Bingo Bolger-Baggins, you simply think too much! And that won't do at all. *looks out into the woods, then turns to go back inside*

Comments

[bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! *is hoisted in its teeth, lapses between pained consciousness and the unconsciousness from blood loss*

[wargrunt.livejournal.com]

*runs*

*slows to a trot as the first rays of dawn peek through the trees*

[arathorn.livejournal.com]

*at last catches glimpses of fur moving between the trees up ahead; drawns in his breath sharply*

The warg has not stopped to eat his prey. That is a good sign. There is still hope.

You can do this, Arathorn.

*continues on even quieter than before*

[wargrunt.livejournal.com]

*keeps running past the Woody End through the thickets and fields of the Marish and back into woods, reaching a low point (http://bensstockphotos.homestead.com/Millers_River_Erving_Ma._Hoz.jpg) in the Branduin south of Buckland, filled with rocks and ice, with the sun high in the sky and heading downward, crosses jumping along the rocks and over some stretches only having to swim a short stretch, drenching them in the icy water, runs into the Old Forest*

[bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com]

*is numb with pain and wet and cold*

[arathorn.livejournal.com]

*hears splashes of water; realized he is near the Branduin* This warg is a tireless runner! I hope my own strength doesn't fail me.

*finally sees the river but does not see any sign of the warg* No matter, I heard him. I can cross a little lower downstream easier than right here.

*runs down the riverbank a short distance; stops short* A print! Here they crossed. And so shall I.

*leaps deftly up and over rocks for as long as he can before having to swim*

[wargrunt.livejournal.com]

I wanna sleep so bad, but if I sleep the snack might get a way. This fucking sucks. I'm never going to get him fresh to the pack. And I can't feel my damn jaw. I'm going to have to pick a spot. *slows to a walk as the sun sets and he wends his way through the Old Forest*

[arathorn.livejournal.com]

*leaves the freezing cold river at last; runs his hands over his weapons and supplies to make sure nothing washed away in the swift current* Everything in place. Good.

*searches the brush for a likely path that the warg might have chosen* Some of the branches are broken here. And oh! A few thread of fabric snagged on this twig. At least Bingo made it across the river and wasn't taken by it. But is he alive???

I wish I were a better tracker. Oh well, no use lamenting at this point. *runs into the Old Forest without even a rustle of leaves betraying his steps*

[guestpuppet.livejournal.com]

*the Old Trees watch the chase, whisper to each other in the breeze about which party they are each going to place bets on, much chatter ensues, rules are set to prevent interference, they watch and each hopes they'll be the lucky winner*

[wargrunt.livejournal.com]

*hears whispering among the trees he doesn't like, grows weary as the moon rises*
That's it. My internal clock is all screwed up now! *and hungry* I can't take this anymore.

*stops in a clearing, drops his prey and put his feet on its chest* Grrrrr! Erudammit, I can't move my jaw!!! *stands over him trying to loosen up his jaw muscles, drools, looks hungrily down at his prey*

[bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com]

*gains a moment of focus above the haze of pain and coldness, sees the eyes above him glinting with a brighter fire* I'll never see Samwise's and Frodo's finished herb shop; I'll never know what Cele . . . Celeb . . . wanted to tell me; I'll never know what Celly and Melba's assessment of the Elf is; I'll never know how well Essy's bake goods sell, I'll never know how Tiger's game goes; I'll never know what Uncle Sennie's been doing in his room all this time . . . maybe that's not so bad . . . ;I'll never know what Gramma Addy cooked for dinner . . . what was in Tobey's letter to Aragorn, what the skin on Arathorn's chest tastes like . . . *his hand alights upon a rock beside him*

[arathorn.livejournal.com]

*slips between the trees; spots the warg at last poised over his friend; whispers to himself* Eru be praised! But how to approach...

*stays hidden from view as only a Ranger can; quietly draws his sword as he nears closer to his target*

*hopes that Bingo doesn't see him and become agitated thus destroying the element of surprise*

*whispers to himself* Stay still, Bingo. Be brave. Only few seconds more...