confusticate and bebother

[ringwinner]

Bilbo Baggins had been away from the mansion for quite some time, though it was hardly noticeable, being the well-mannered and generally quiet sort of hobbit that he was. He had been in Hobbiton again (having completely forgotten about his brief time in the mansion in the meanwhile), taking a stroll through the gardens of Bag-End when he suddenly

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[thenotsofair]

Someone bends and picks it up, half smiling in that way of his, and then just as quickly drops it, violently revulsion and violent yearing turning his stomach in knots. His sword coming whistling out of its scabbard, staring half horrified at the Ring his nephew helped to forge.

"Do you know what you hold?" He touched it. He touched it and part of him wanted it - he feels a little sick.

Sorry for the welcome, Bilbo.

[ringwinner]

"My ring," Bilbo said, quickly grabbing the ring after it had been dropped and tucking it safely back in his pocket. "And you shouldn't go around waving swords in people's faces like that. What if you lost your grip, then where would you be? With a large piece of steel sticking out of your foot, that's where you would..." The offended tone was dropped rather quickly when he saw just who he was speaking to. "...be?"

[thenotsofair]

Yes, it is an elfthing, looking very tall, very pissed off, nervous, twitchy, and more than a little insane. Though the insane's only visible if you look for it. "Not your ring," he says, voice tight with barely suppressed fear and rage. "Sauron's bloody ring, what are you doing with it?"

[ringwinner]

"What am I doing with it? I won it -fairly I might add- and it belongs to me. Not this Sauron fellow, whoever he is." His earlier brief-lived trepidation had quickly faded in the face of such rudeness, elf or no.

[eldeststark]

The boy himself standing in the door of the kitchen doesn't look very intimidating, especially now that he has his arm bound in a sling. He got sick of the shoulder aching and figures it'll heal faster if he can't use it.

The wolf on the other hand is half the size of a pony and snarling at the ring, fur puffed up around him. Snarling loudly.

[ringwinner]

Bilbo froze when he saw the wolf. Where was Gandalf when you needed him? He edged backwards until his back hit a table leg and reached up to try to find something to defend himself with, forgetting for the moment that Sting was sitting on a chair to his left. Armed with a spatula, he prepared to do battle for his ring.

[eldeststark]

Robb is frowning. "Grey. Grey Wind. Here." Grey Wind paces forward a few steps, keeping a careful distance from the ring on the floor, and Robb follows him, seizing his scruff. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, reaching to pick up the ring. "I don't know what's gotten - ow!"

That last triggered as Grey Wind grabs his boy's wrist in his mouth and drags him back bodily. Robb shakes him off and stares at his wrist, bleeding a little. Then at Grey Wind.

"...what is that?"

[ringwinner]

"A spatula," Bilbo said, still keeping a hold on it as he edged closer to the ring. It trembled a bit in his hands, but hopefully it wasn't too noticeable. "You use it for cooking." Who knew what kind of savages he'd found himself among if they didn't even know basic utensils.

[ringsmith]

He feels it the moment it passes the threshold and a cold fear grips him. He felt the power of the ring the moment its master put it on for the first time and it's something that he will never forget. Poor Bilbo will find a tall, dark elf striding quickly towards him with an expression like a thundercloud. He stares for a moment at the hobbit, the second he's met, before pointing at the ring and demanding angerly, "Where did you get that!?"

[ringwinner]

His first instinct would have been to flinch away from an elf in such a foul temper, who knew what he might do, cast a spell on him perhaps. But his ring was being threatened, the precious reminder of his adventures, and Bilbo couldn't let that happen. "I won it." It was so much more polite than saying he stole it.

[ringsmith]

No, Celebrimbor is Feanorian. He'd probably take a more direct, physical approach, but he's controlling himself for the moment. He takes another threatening step toward the hobbit. "Do you have any idea what it is that you hold?"

[ringwinner]

"It's my ring," he said, backing up as the elf advanced and wishing, not for the first time, that his voice was just a little more threatening. A bit of extra height would have been appreciated too under the circumstances. "It's... It's lucky."

[lorien_gal]

Galadriel was just walking in the room, when she came across Bilbo in the kitchen. She leaned against the wall, a little, and took a deep, deep breath.

"Perianath." Yet another, but why is the feel of Sauron so strong? She looked at him again.

He is familiar, vaguely.

[ringwinner]

He stared for a moment, his mouth hanging wide open, before hastily bowing. He'd never truly seen a great lady elf before, especially not one so lovely. "My lady."

[lorien_gal]

She inclines her head in return, polite and curious, wary, a little. This Galadriel has never met Bilbo, never met any ring-bearers, and her visions are skewed by the lack of a mirror, here at the Mansion.

"Sir Perian. Have you just come then?"

[ringwinner]

"Yes, lady." Another bow since he's not sure what the exact protocol for this sort of thing is, but he's sure that there's got to be one written down somewhere. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

[bythebrandywine]

"Why, Mr. Bilbo, you're the first person from the Shire I've seen. And it is a relief, if I may say so," says Merry Brandybuck.

[ringwinner]

"Oh. Hello. Likewise..." Well, it's definitely a Brandybuck, but which Brandybuck? "Who are you?"

[bythebrandywine]

"It's Merry Brandybuck," he says. "Don't you know?"

[ringwinner]

"Uh... Sorry. No. But you know me, yes?" Poor Bilbo does his best not to look too confused.