||Chapter 7||
<|Third Age 2974|>
Endor Baggins cannot believe she is being forced into this. Part of her mind is rejoicing in her ability to get close to the king, for the mere reason of spying on his activities. However, the greater portion of her mind wishes not be put in such an awkward and strange position as this will be. Why must she be the one to do this?
Balin and Thorin's plan was in the works, with the former dwarf charging Endor with bringing food to Thorin's room the next night. To be honest, Balin doubted that she would take to the task so easily, but she seemed committed to helping out in the kitchen. All it took was Balin's request and Bombur's reassurance of her lack of need in the kitchen to get her to bring Thorin food. But at the same time, she did not look happy with the plan.
All too soon, and under the quick directions of Balin, she finds herself in front of the door which should lead to Thorin Oakenshield himself. Huffing, she takes recognition of her dirty clothes, once more, though the dark attire hides it better than last night. However, Endor still wishes she had put better clothes on, seeing as this will be the second occasion when Thorin sees her in a gross state. Maybe she can blame the garden...
Before she can flee from the task at hand, her knuckles come to rap on the door, not too lightly nor too harshly. Rather, it sounds like a louder heartbeat, like that thrumming sound in her chest. Breathing becomes a greater challenge for the lungs of Endor, a fear unlike anything she has ever felt rising in shivers up her spine. There is something about Thorin Oakenshield and the mystery of his disappearance that drives terror into her heart, like a warm knife.
In a stroke of sudden brilliance, Endor leans down to leave the tray of food at the door. She is sure that Thorin Oakenshield will come to open the door himself, and will be able to pick up the plate. But as she sets it down slowly, a harsh "enter" sounds from the other side. Endor should have known it will not be that easy.
Picking the tray back up, Endor steels herself up in confidence that betrays her inner feelings. If she is to do this, then she must promote the same air of pride that Thorin Oakenshield exerts. This takes a mere millisecond after the dwarf demands her entrance, one hand holding the tray as she easily opens the door with the other.
Endor is surprised by the sight that meets her eyes upon opening the door. The impossibly dark hallway shines brighter than that of this room, candles sporadically placed across a desk. With the little light to go by, Endor paces into the cavities of the dark, paying attention to the simple wood furnishings that cover the walls and floor. If she did not know any better, this would be the room of a servant, not a king. But there Thorin Oakenshield is, standing up from his desk and turned to face her.
"Where's Balin?" Thorin asks, playing dumb to his hidden plans. The two confident creatures face off to one another, a king and a practical servant, though they act on the same playing field. From Thorin's eyes, Endor looks slightly angelic with the light of the hallway streaming in behind her. And to Endor, Thorin looks ghostly, candlelight playing on the cavities of his face. You can tell which creature has seen daylight recently.
"Your servant's caught up in the clean up of another antic of your nephews," Endor remarks, though she does not know if this is the case at all. Given, this is of the highest probability, but Balin only used "business" as an excuse to push his duties onto her. But either way, Endor knows that Thorin will never learn of why she is here instead of Balin.
"They'll be the downfall of this kingdom," Thorin grumbles honestly, prompting Endor to roll her eyes. Thorin sees this action easily, hardening his character into action. If he is to get information from her, he will need to get her angry. This is the best way to pull information from others, after all. "Well, are you just going to stand there, or will you give me my food?"
YOU ARE READING
Endotherm {Thorin/Hobbit}
Fanfiction"The world was young, the mountains green, No stain yet on the Moon was seen, No words were laid on stream or stone When Durin woke and walked alone. He named the nameless hills and dells; He drank from yet untasted wells; He stooped and looked in M...
