[And here he is indeed. The ranger turns on his heels at the sound of Bilbo's voice, hesitant and tentative, jolting him from the myriad thoughts plaguing his mind. He can't be fooled. He wishes it was a simple mistake, but the glint in the hobbit's eyes speaks a truth that cannot be denied. The knot in his stomach twists tight as the fear he's tried to dismiss returns with cutting sharpness, causing a deep frown to crease his face. As aware of its power as Frodo once seemed to be, Bilbo doesn't seem to share the same knowledge. He's caught off-guard, surely, yet he remains unafraid, as if merely playing with a toy. Harmless. Safe. And Aragorn knows that it's torn too many candid souls to be as innocuous as it looks.
He reaches the hobbit in quick, silent strides, the scowl on his face filled with concern. There's clear disapproval in his gaze, and it falls to Bilbo's hip with a kind of distant fear he doesn't dare acknowledge.]
I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely... [His lips curl, a tight frown; he's said this before. The sense of déjà-vu that fills him in that moment leaves him agitated, and he promptly looks around to ensure that nobody else has caught a glimpse of what he did. He looms over Bilbo, a protective shield. There's nothing but rough stone structures around them, and if they once gave a certain degree of comfort, the turmoil of the past recent years have clearly reduced them to nothing more than what they seem; broken shelters. This could be Middle-Earth in exact similitude and he swallows back the uneasiness in his throat, glancing back down to his little friend.] I know what lies in your pocket. [Because there really is no point in delaying the truth. Aragorn may not fully understand how past and present and future have somehow mingled in a different universe, but the evil laced around the golden trinket has subsisted throughout the ages and this he knows all too well, unwilling to allow further damage.
He gives a quiet sigh, lips pressed tight around softened edges.] I've seen it before, heavy around the neck of your kin. Leave it be, lest it draws unwanted attention upon us.
GOOD. KEEP IT IN YO POCKET 8|
[And here he is indeed. The ranger turns on his heels at the sound of Bilbo's voice, hesitant and tentative, jolting him from the myriad thoughts plaguing his mind. He can't be fooled. He wishes it was a simple mistake, but the glint in the hobbit's eyes speaks a truth that cannot be denied. The knot in his stomach twists tight as the fear he's tried to dismiss returns with cutting sharpness, causing a deep frown to crease his face. As aware of its power as Frodo once seemed to be, Bilbo doesn't seem to share the same knowledge. He's caught off-guard, surely, yet he remains unafraid, as if merely playing with a toy. Harmless. Safe. And Aragorn knows that it's torn too many candid souls to be as innocuous as it looks.
He reaches the hobbit in quick, silent strides, the scowl on his face filled with concern. There's clear disapproval in his gaze, and it falls to Bilbo's hip with a kind of distant fear he doesn't dare acknowledge.]
I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely... [His lips curl, a tight frown; he's said this before. The sense of déjà-vu that fills him in that moment leaves him agitated, and he promptly looks around to ensure that nobody else has caught a glimpse of what he did. He looms over Bilbo, a protective shield. There's nothing but rough stone structures around them, and if they once gave a certain degree of comfort, the turmoil of the past recent years have clearly reduced them to nothing more than what they seem; broken shelters. This could be Middle-Earth in exact similitude and he swallows back the uneasiness in his throat, glancing back down to his little friend.] I know what lies in your pocket. [Because there really is no point in delaying the truth. Aragorn may not fully understand how past and present and future have somehow mingled in a different universe, but the evil laced around the golden trinket has subsisted throughout the ages and this he knows all too well, unwilling to allow further damage.
He gives a quiet sigh, lips pressed tight around softened edges.] I've seen it before, heavy around the neck of your kin. Leave it be, lest it draws unwanted attention upon us.