One Ring to troll them all

Run Like the Wind and Soar!

I came to with a gasp - echoed by Bilbo's surprised own - and a throbbing headache that only got worse when I hit my head against Bilbo's forehead - the poor hobbit had leaned over to check my condition and got a painful headbutt as thanks when I tried to rise.

"Sorry," I muttered, brushing my head with a grimace of pain.

"It is alright," Bilbo choked out, holding his forehead, and practically toppling backwards from the hit. "No harm done," he squeaked, and I looked at his rapidly reddening mark dubiously.

I was pretty sure there was, in fact, harm done.

I groaned and closed my eyes tightly as my head throbbed, and it wasn't because of the hit.

I had the funniest feeling that I had just been dreaming of something from my childhood, something really important, and yet...I tried to grasp the dream and it seemed to slip from my fingers like butter. I could only remember something about a hospital, and a garden?

I clenched my teeth in frustration and resisted the urge to hit the rock behind me.

This was the closest I had come to understand even a little bit of what was happening to me.

I knew that much.

And yet I couldn't remember.

It was frustrating as hell.

But as much as I wanted to spend all day trying to remember my dream, there was no time.

I just couldn't think about this now.

I would leave the future breakdown that would inevitably come for future me - because, with my luck, bad things would probably happen no matter what I did - and I would continue the journey to the Lonely Mountain with my best friend.

I couldn't forget about the dwarves either. I didn't want to imagine how they must be feeling right now.

I took a deep, deep breath and then let it go.

Right. I could do this.

"Thank goodness, Mairon!" Bilbo exclaimed, his eyes frantically scanning me for any visible injuries or any signs of distress. "I was so worried you would not wake! It has been three days since we fell!"

I promptly choked on my spit.

Three days?! How the hell was I unconscious for so long?!

Bilbo fluttered anxiously around me as I practically coughed my lungs out.

"Are you alright? Do you need any water? Oh, let me get it from my pack..."

"I am fine," I wheezed, waving my hand at Bilbo, who slowly settled down again as my coughs subsided.

"What are we to do, Mairon?" Bilbo asked, still looking anxious but fortunately calmer than before. "Thorin and the others will believe we have perished! Oh, and what will Gandalf think? We need to do something!"

"And we will," I reassured Bilbo as I slowly got up from the ground. I quickly patted myself and blinked in confusion.

Huh. I felt fine.

Better than fine, in fact. One would think I'd have more injuries because of the violent landing we experienced - especially since I took all the brunt of the impact - but it didn't seem as if I had any broken bones.

Or even a scratch, really.

Mairon, you son of a bitch.

At least this body had its perks. Things could have been way worse. I mean, sure, the dwarves were probably freaked out - they did see me dive after Bilbo, though, so maybe they knew the hobbit had somehow survived, saved by a giant eagle that had appeared from the middle of nowhere - and would be wondering what had happened to him.