One Ring to troll them all

Thoughts and Conversations

I stared at Grimbeorn, my mind torn between contemplating the man's early existence and the pain in my leg. Deciding to focus on the latter, I smiled slightly at Grimbeorn and bowed my head.

"Well met. I am Mairon, and this is my friend, Bilbo Baggins," I said, motioning to the hobbit, who also bowed his head at Grimbeorn. "I presume Thorin, and the others are at your home, then?"

"Oakenshield and his Company, along with the wizard Gandalf the Grey, arrived at my father's house yesterday morning," Grimbeorn nodded. "They have awaited your arrival with hope and, dare I say, much impatience."

I huffed with reluctant amusement at that last bit. Thorin was probably already beside himself.

I wondered if the dwarf king would apologize to Bilbo and almost snorted in derision. Yeah, right. Fat chance.

"You are wounded," Grimbeorn observed, looking pointedly at the arrow shaft still protruding from my leg, and I winced. I had almost completely forgotten about that, actually. Weirdly enough, it seemed to burn way less than before. Maybe it was growing numb?

"Oh, this? 'Tis but a scratch," I said cheerily, slowly shifting my leg until the arrow was a hand's distance away from my reach.

"Uh, you might want to keep that in, Mairon!" Bilbo exclaimed while fussing all over me, wriggling his hands anxiously.

"Nonsense," I huffed, and without even thinking about how stupid it would be, I firmly grabbed the shaft and pulled. Bilbo let out an exclamation of shock, and Grimbeorn watched with a slightly surprised yet curious gleam in his eyes. Heh. Morbid much?

I felt a stab of pain, though it wasn't as painful as I had imagined it would be, and I dumbly stared at the arrow, now in my hand, while a trickle of blood fell from my wound ever so slowly.

"Why did you do that?!" Bilbo shrieked, quickly rummaging through his bag. I watched in bemusement as he retrieved a roll of clean bandages, which surprised me.

"Since when did we bring that from Rivendell?" I asked curiously. Bilbo, still looking harried, threw me a strange look when he noticed I wasn't panicking about the wound.

"Does it not hurt, Mairon?" He asked instead of answering, looking at my leg. A soft gasp escaped him as we watched the wound stop bleeding and the gash start healing slowly until only a very thin mark remained. The scar was so small, in fact, that I wouldn't be surprised if it had completely faded by the next morning.

"Remarkable," Grimbeorn stated while Bilbo gaped at my leg incredulously.

I smiled cheekily at the hobbit. "See? Nothing to worry about!" I laughed brightly and stood up, startling Bilbo, who clutched his bag like a lifeline.

After a while of staring in incomprehension at me, he just huffed, sighed, and put the bandages away again.

"I am too tired for this," Bilbo grumbled, and when it looked as if no one was going to say anything else, Grimbeorn tilted his head and said,

"I will bring you to my home, if you wish. Perhaps we could make haste if the little one were to get on my back once I change skins again."

I nodded, "good idea. Bilbo must be tired from all that running, anyway."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow but eventually sighed. "We may as well. A ride it is. Just promise me you will not drop me."

Grimbeorn gave a booming laugh and smiled at Bilbo, who smiled back with a little hesitance. I couldn't blame him. Grimbeorn looked the part of a wild bear right then, even if he hadn't transformed yet. And I noticed that he hadn't promised Bilbo he wouldn't drop him, which was as concerning as it was hilarious.