||Chapter 29||

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||Chapter 29||

<|Third Age 2974|>


Endor Baggins, as intelligent and witty as she is, can be a blubbering idiot at times. She is absolutely convinced of this fact, especially now that she is paying for her idiocracy. Wrapped in the warm sheets of her bed, her brain does not want to settle back into the pillow, even as her body does. She is an enigma of brain and body at this very time.

And it is all due to Thorin's absence from her bed. Of course, she could go and snatch him from his bedroll right now, but that would mean leaving the warmth of her sheets. Why did she have to forget this issue earlier when she bid Thorin a goodnight? Now she cannot sleep, and she really does not want to move.

But from the darkness of Bag End nights comes the squeaking of her door. She squints into the dark world around her with the failed perception that she may be able to see. However, and like every night before, her eyes take hold of nothing and she awaits some emotion from the intruder.

She should not have been surprised as she feels the arms of the dwarf king wind around her waist as he shifts himself onto her bed. And yet, she jumps in startled feeling, before relaxing into his arms and turning around to face him. Now that he is closer, she can properly see his face, and especially his shining eyes. But she cannot help teasing him like he has done to her in the past. "I thought this wasn't proper."

"You're helping my back," he banters, prompting Endor to chuckle quietly as she burrows herself into the warmth of his chest. "Plus, I need to speak with you about tomorrow."

The girl sighs in recognition of this, moving away from Thorin again so as to meet his eyes with her serious and thoughtful expression. "Indeed...with Frodo being immortal, there is no way that he will ever be treated normally here in the Shire. I do believe that Frodo is the only thing keeping me and Bilbo here, and thus, I do believe we will all move with you to Erebor."

This was one of the last things that Thorin Oakenshield was expecting her to say, and yet he is beyond happy and wondrous. Before either can think of the future ahead, his lips are on hers in a passionate embrace, his arms around her back as hers lie on his chest. He leans slightly over her, pressing tighter against her form as his tongue slips into her mouth and she winds her hands into his hair. It is a deep embrace and comforting, hands firm and lips locked. But they break in the slowing of their kisses and exhaustion in their eyes, blue orbs locked together on one another.

"Of course, we will keep Bag End for familial and future use, but I do not want to live here again. I want to be with you forever," Endor tells him, laying a hand on his chest with such sincerity that Thorin wants to cry in happiness. But he is a king, and he will not show such poignant emotion, even to the woman he loves. After all, she'd tell his nephews that Thorin was crying in joy.

"As do I," Thorin says, laying a soft kiss on her forehead before winding his arms tight around her and laying her head on his chest. "Go to sleep, my love."

And they do, passing into their dreams of the future that seem more real with each second spent together.

<||>

After breakfast the following morning, the others find themselves waiting outside Bag End in an assumed meeting for their intended travels. It is clear to the wizard and dwarves alike that the hobbits will be leaving permanently for Erebor, not to come back here as regularly as before. Of course, the dwarves take great joy in the intended future company of Endor, Gandalf smiling at this strange happening of fate.

Endotherm {Thorin/Hobbit}Where stories live. Discover now