One Ring to troll them all

Gandalf

Gandalf was lost in thought. After his message to the eagles led to the Company's timely rescue, thoughts of what had transpired until now refused to leave his wandering mind.

As much as Gandalf liked to pretend he knew everything - Eru knew how many times that habit of his had left his dear friend Elrond exasperated beyond belief - he was often as ignorant as the rest.

Which is why he found himself so befuddled by the events of the last few hours.

Oh, sure, he had his suspicions - and considering their nature, they were not as unfounded as some would like to believe - but that was all they were. Suspicions. Theories. The meager, fragile hopes of an old man, believing that perhaps Bilbo Baggins had managed to survive somehow and was now in his way back to them.

And if what Fili said proved to be true, Gandalf would be forever grateful to whoever had saved Bilbo. If Gandalf's own suspicions proved to be true, in fact, he would be forever thankful to Mairon. For protecting Bilbo when he could not.

Gwaihir's voice brought him back from his musings.

"Heavy are your thoughts as of late, old friend."

Gandalf sighed, not even bothering to change the subject to avoid the upcoming conversation.

"Heavy thoughts of an old, tired man," Gandalf agreed, his gaze fixed on the light of the coming day. "Though I find the memories quite heavy, themselves."

Gwaihir hummed. "You speak of the halfling. Quite a curious creature, is he not?"

Gandalf instantly became alert. "Bilbo," he breathed, grief and guilt battling with fragile hope. "Do you know something, Gwaihir?"

"A new Great One has emerged. Yet he is something we have not seen before."

"Mairon?" Gandalf asked hopefully.

"Wait, and you shall see. That is what my Lord Manwë said of the matter."

Gandalf stared in shock. Lord Manwë himself had intervened? He almost did not believe it, but Gwaihir's words rang with truth.

How long had it been since Gandalf had had any contact with his home in the far West? His time there almost felt like a dream now. A distant dream he could only hope to reach one day, once again.

"My Lord was quite insistent, in fact," Gwaihir continued, not noticing how every word he said shocked Gandalf even more - or perhaps he did and found it amusing. Gandalf was not the only one who enjoyed being cryptic, after all, though he could admit it was a bit infuriating when he was on the receiving end of it.

"I have not heard him be this merry since Lady Varda agreed to marry him. It makes one wonder what it was, exactly, that amused him so."

Gandalf blinked. "...I see."

Well, now he was sure. If Mairon had absolutely nothing to do with this, he would eat his hat!

Honestly, the young Maia was like chaos personified! If something happened, Mairon most probably had something to do with it. He was more troublesome than an elfling!

Thank Eru the young one had not been anywhere close to the fire and the orcs; Gandalf feared what could have happened otherwise.

He had quickly taken notice of Mairon's reticence to getting near fire, as had Lord Glorfindel and Lord Elrond, and even though Mairon did not seem as if he knew the reason as to why yet, there could be many explanations for it, one more terrible than the rest.

After all, Mairon had been Sauron himself for years, even if he did not fully remember it, and he had already recovered some lost memories, if the events in the Hall of Fire were to be believed.