bingo_bolger_baggins: (broody)
[personal profile] 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*

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-23 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com
*becomes lucid for a moment and turns over* Arathorn? *is suspended between consciousness and blankness*

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-23 04:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arathorn.livejournal.com
*throws down his sword, kneels at BIngo's side, slips his hand under Bingo's head*

Yes, Arathorn, yes. You are safe now. The Warg is gone.

*searches Bingo's face while trying to blink back his own tears*

Let me have a look at you.

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-23 04:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com
Ohhh, Arathorn. It's gone? *feels the hand behind his head, the first comfortable sensation he can remember* Are there stars?

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-23 05:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] arathorn.livejournal.com
*swallows hard; tries to appear brave and wise*

Yes, it's gone. I scared it away. Or rather, my sword did.

And oh yes, there are stars. More than you can count.

*blinks more*

Bingo, you must stay still. I need to check you for injuries.

(no subject)

Date: 2005-02-23 06:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bbolger-baggins.livejournal.com
*earnestly* Oh . . . you will find them; . . . I have many.

*reviews what each of them just uttered and perceives the unintentional humor of his own answer--a level of consciousness he had not known in days and begins a chuckle that ends in a pant, the ironic distance allowing him to recall his experience of these past two days--wheels in his head rusted by fear start rolling again--and from the greater height this distance affords, he falls back into sensation--sharp and searing and terrifying beyond naming, and so pours forth a wail born of the darkness he had just but returned from, a darkness that disperses in tears and sends tremors through his limbs; he cries and reaches for his friend*

To be continued . . .

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