Endotherm {Thorin/Hobbit}

||Chapter 4||

    "What did you mean when you said 'rightly so' about being different?" he asks, the question still digging into his mind from moments ago.  Endor looks back at Dwalin with her pretty blue eyes, their retinas scanning his face as if in search of distorted intentions.  However, she knows the dwarf to be completely genuine and a loyal keeper of secrets.  He is, after all, the right-hand man of Thorin Oakenshield.  And though that could bode bad for keeping a secret, she knows Dwalin would never tell her story to another soul.  Plus, it will be nice to relinquish some of her pain through words.

    Dwalin is surprised when Endor grabs his hand, fearing that this is some sign of affection in the hobbit culture.  But he does not fear for much longer, as she pulls on him towards a darker hallway and one alone from listening ears.  Endor knows her secret is not a large deal and worthy of such secrecy, but it is a painful memory of hers, and one she does not wish to hear often.  It's better is fewer people know...those she is close to...and ones burrowing into her heart...like Dwalin.

    "Dwalin, what I am about to tell you is not worthy of any storytelling now or in the future.  It's the tragedy of a simple hobbit, not some great hero," Endor tells him, prompting him to nod in understanding.  He does not need to be psychic to know that she is telling him a secret of her past, and one he is never to tell anyone.  But the latter account is no problem for him, seeing as he never relinquishes the secrets of others, even under Thorin's command.  Loyalty does not only lie with the king.

    "Being simple does not make you unheroic, lass....just look at Bilbo," Dwalin reminds her, thinking of all the common heroes he knows.  Sure, there are the royal heroes here in Erebor.  But Bilbo and the Company alike were heroes to Thorin's goal of taking back the Mountain.  In some sense, and to some perspective, anyone can be a hero.

    "This is not a philosophical debate, Dwalin.  I am trying to tell a story," Endor responds, sending the older dwarf a glance that requires his silence.  Her eyes shift down to the floor, as if looking back to the past and the grounds of the Shire which bore such tragedy to her family.  Her heart skips as she takes a preparatory breath, eyes closing to recount the details of her tragedy:

    "Hobbiton has been my home since I was born.  It was where I grew into my manners and suppressed spirit of adventure.  I was raised as a proper hobbit, with neither curiosity nor anger.  The only time I ever got a hint of adventure was on Sundays when I went to Bilbo's house.  It was there where I heard of your journey...it was there that I came upon my dream to come here one day.

    But I did not act on my hidden adventurous spirit, seeing as I had to keep up my family title for the sake of my brother.  You see, Bilbo brought shame upon the Baggins family when he ran off with you dwarves.  I could not further that shame upon my brother at that time, when he was a simple newborn hobbit with sparkling and pure blue eyes. 

    I was left with him in the end, though, when my parents died.  It was really dumb, in actuality, when their boat tipped into the Brandywine River and they could not swim.  I mean, who goes out onto a river not knowing how to swim unless to commit suicide?  That's what it was, really, though I doubt they recognized that.

    It left me an orphan at seventeen years of age, to take care of a three-year old brother who would never remember his parents.  We had little hope as I fell into a depression, losing all my characteristics that made me the model hobbit.  I became blunt and sarcastic, but more than anything else, a fierce protector over Frodo, my brother.

    At the time, I was horrified having to go live under the roof of Bag End with my Uncle Bilbo, but it ultimately gave me the escape I desired by not living under any roof.  You see, I am now a traveller of the Western lands, spending mere days in Hobbiton between journeys and months abroad.  Frodo has grown since that time, as have I.  But one thing that has not changed: my desire to come here.