[ He hasn't been in possession of the ring more than a few days, so perhaps it makes sense that he's yet to come to a conclusion on it. As a hobbit who has been safely tucked away in the Shire, things of magic and mystery have only been in the books stuffed away in his study; up until some weeks ago, the thought of glowing swords, enchanted rings and stubborn wizards have been silly thoughts he might have entertained on an evening after stuffing himself too full and smoking too generously. So he doesn't understand. He's new and fresh and entirely unprepared, so a ring of invisibility has only ever been seen for its usefulness, no for its potential consequences. Why would there be strings attached to something meant to... aid the bearer?
He trusts Aragorn, more than he really ought to with so little discussed between them, but that's always been a problem with sheltered folk; a kind smile, gentle eyes and a reassurance of a shared world is all it has taken to draw Bilbo in, his inexperience truly showing in his inability to stay strong and make Aragorn earn his trust, and so, there's a large, generous part of himself that wants to follow direction. But then there's the small, thread of doubt that whispers in the back of his mind, the kind that should be too insignificant to make a difference, yet somehow does. How can he know what's in his pocket? How could something so well known, so unique, so... precious be lost in the depths of a mountain? The one who'd lost the very thing couldn't even answer the supposed riddle and yet this man can already guess?
Perhaps he's mistaken.
He wants him to be. The ring is handy and he thinks, maybe, that it is what he needs to survive this quest, as well as the original, and so, inwardly he scrambles, wanting to protect what is undeniably his now. His fingers flex, blunt nails pressing into the bark for a brief moment before falling away as he steps out from behind the tree and there, he frowns in his hesitance, mouth opening once, shutting and then trying once more for a— ] … No, that cannot be right. [ There's still too much of the gentlehobbit from the Shire in him and so his building courage is far too fragile for him to remain brave; instead, he glances down and resorts to his fiddling to smooth out the damp, splotchy fabric of his once nice coat. ] I found… [ A swallow, a glance up and then down. ] … it deep within the Misty Mountains. One hobbit should never have been there, but two… [ Because how else would the ring have gotten there? That creature has surely never been to the Shire, so how has he seen this ring – which he has not seen here – around the neck of another hobbit? ] … entirely unlikely.
BUT HE WANTS TO WEAR IT TOO :C and rofl i need to read the booook
He trusts Aragorn, more than he really ought to with so little discussed between them, but that's always been a problem with sheltered folk; a kind smile, gentle eyes and a reassurance of a shared world is all it has taken to draw Bilbo in, his inexperience truly showing in his inability to stay strong and make Aragorn earn his trust, and so, there's a large, generous part of himself that wants to follow direction. But then there's the small, thread of doubt that whispers in the back of his mind, the kind that should be too insignificant to make a difference, yet somehow does. How can he know what's in his pocket? How could something so well known, so unique, so... precious be lost in the depths of a mountain? The one who'd lost the very thing couldn't even answer the supposed riddle and yet this man can already guess?
Perhaps he's mistaken.
He wants him to be. The ring is handy and he thinks, maybe, that it is what he needs to survive this quest, as well as the original, and so, inwardly he scrambles, wanting to protect what is undeniably his now. His fingers flex, blunt nails pressing into the bark for a brief moment before falling away as he steps out from behind the tree and there, he frowns in his hesitance, mouth opening once, shutting and then trying once more for a— ] … No, that cannot be right. [ There's still too much of the gentlehobbit from the Shire in him and so his building courage is far too fragile for him to remain brave; instead, he glances down and resorts to his fiddling to smooth out the damp, splotchy fabric of his once nice coat. ] I found… [ A swallow, a glance up and then down. ] … it deep within the Misty Mountains. One hobbit should never have been there, but two… [ Because how else would the ring have gotten there? That creature has surely never been to the Shire, so how has he seen this ring – which he has not seen here – around the neck of another hobbit? ] … entirely unlikely.