[ Dressed down now, to his tunic and trousers, Bilbo attempts the slight hop on the bed, and soon goes about fussing with the sheets. All the while, he scoffs and rolls his eyes, briefly, in exaggerated exasperation, even though he's not quite facing the correct way for Thorin to see. He's busy pulling back the sheet and rearranging himself with it, quipping— ] Oh. I blame Gandalf for many things.
[ Like, disturbing a mid-morning smoke. Conjuring up a secret meeting in Bag End, that had been so secret, not even the supposed host had known. Abandoning them one too many times, only to save them at the last moment. Gandalf is... frustrating. Unpredictable. Even so, Bilbo trusts him. Is even fond of him. And he feels immensely better any time the wizard is near... but sometimes, when he really sits back and thinks on their shared history, he wonders if there should be a reason for concern.
It's a difficult thing though. To go backwards, Once Bilbo allows someone into his modest, usually tightly defended space, it's almost second nature to put his faith and trust in them. Despite all his outward grumblings, it's within his nature to give others the benefit of his doubt and think better of them than, perhaps, sometimes they deserve.
So he doesn't fully mean it— ] Always meddling, speaking in riddles... [ And there's that annoying ache again; he really, truly misses Gandalf. Misses all of them. Even misses their quest – not the near-death parts, of course, but the sense of purpose it brought and the tight-knit unit they had been becoming. He overcomes that slight pause with a huff though and then settles down, resting on his side with his head pillowed. ] A true disturber of the peace, that's what he is.
immensely. c:
[ Like, disturbing a mid-morning smoke. Conjuring up a secret meeting in Bag End, that had been so secret, not even the supposed host had known. Abandoning them one too many times, only to save them at the last moment. Gandalf is... frustrating. Unpredictable. Even so, Bilbo trusts him. Is even fond of him. And he feels immensely better any time the wizard is near... but sometimes, when he really sits back and thinks on their shared history, he wonders if there should be a reason for concern.
It's a difficult thing though. To go backwards, Once Bilbo allows someone into his modest, usually tightly defended space, it's almost second nature to put his faith and trust in them. Despite all his outward grumblings, it's within his nature to give others the benefit of his doubt and think better of them than, perhaps, sometimes they deserve.
So he doesn't fully mean it— ] Always meddling, speaking in riddles... [ And there's that annoying ache again; he really, truly misses Gandalf. Misses all of them. Even misses their quest – not the near-death parts, of course, but the sense of purpose it brought and the tight-knit unit they had been becoming. He overcomes that slight pause with a huff though and then settles down, resting on his side with his head pillowed. ] A true disturber of the peace, that's what he is.