Endotherm {Thorin/Hobbit}

||Chapter 14||

"The incident?" Thorin asks softly, realizing this is the cause to the pain under her smile and reservations towards the dwarves.  But this time, his questioning does not come from sheer curiosity and suspicion, but care for the female and her family.

Endor sees this difference in his eyes, prompting a sigh of relinquishment to escape her lips.  Her blue eyes meet those of Thorin's, which shine in the light of the nearby fire.  "I want you to promise me something."

"Anything," Thorin responds, knowing that he would do anything for Endor Baggins at this time.  She means much to him and his family.

"No more secrets," Endor proposes, no joke or joy shining from her words.

Thorin examines her beautiful face for any sign of a lie to this promise.  Yet not finding anything, he agrees in a soft tone: "Okay."

The female hobbit leans back into her chair and away from Thorin who is tempted to move closer.  Instead, the king simply stares at her as she prepares her words of utter tragedy and pain.  This will be the second time she has told a dwarf of her story, though it is no easy than the first.  "I was the perfect hobbit just three years ago, you know.  I never did anything remotely interesting and spent a great deal of time homemaking.  I was a favorite in the town, for both men and women, with my pink bows and perfect skip.  If there was ever a reference made to me, it was in praise or longing.  But as it turns out, that was not the real me at all.

    "I find it strange that it took a tragedy to reveal my inner character and desires.  You see, my parents trained and perfected my image like the good hobbits they were, but when they drowned in the Brandywine River three years ago, I was left an orphan.  I went to live with Bilbo, and although he did everything for me, I could not stay in the Shire any longer.  And thus, I left.

    "I've been journeying the Western lands ever since, from Bree to the Western Mountains.  And in that time, I've learned of the world outside Hobbiton, and the looming darkness over our heads.  They say Sauron is rising in the east, in Mordor.

    "Whenever I would return home, I'd receive the nasty criticism of my own kin who praised me just years ago.  I am a hoodlum, apparently, and a no-good thief of their every sacred vegetable.  I have no concern for what they say to me, but my actions have repercussions on Bilbo and my brother.

    "Frodo, my dear Frodo.  He is the true light of my life, with his crystal blue eyes and large peaking smile.  And that mop of hair, as untamable as it was when he was a mere infant.  You ought to meet him, Thorin, for he can bring a smile to even the grumpiest of faces.  That six-year-old grin is a light in this dark, dark world.

    "I've been begging Bilbo to take me to Erebor since the first time I heard your story.  I grew up on the tales of the Lonely Mountain and the strong line of Durin.  Bilbo was always my idol, even in my reserved times, but I always looked up to you.  To the king who would do anything for his people.  Even before I met you, I knew you to be a great man.  And I was not wrong."

    To strangers and friends alike, the expression shining from the eyes of Thorin Oakenshield speaks of a pure and present love for the hobbit.  His desire to coddle and protect her is obvious to all the eyes excluding the hobbit's, whose tears are blocking the greater part of her vision.  But she does not need to see to know his care for her, leaning forward to squeeze his hand with a small smile on her face.  And though she wishes to pull her hand away, Thorin grasps tighter to it, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in the small expression of his adoration for Endor.  "I am sorry for your loss."

"I choose not to think of it that way.  It may hurt, but I've gained more in their death than I have lost.  Without that River, I'd never had made it here...I'd probably be married to some dingy hobbit," Endor says, making light of her pain with a laugh hindered by sadness.  Thorin sees through all this, holding her hand tighter in his own as he wishes for her confession of weakness.