||Chapter 4||
<|Third Age 2974|>
When Endor awakes the next morning, it feels as if a sledgehammer attacked her head in the middle of the night. Groans escape her lips as she attempts to merely open her eyes, fogginess swimming to-and-fro in her every thought and action. Rather than her quick mannerisms and tongue, she travels at a speed tenfold slower than typical. And thus, with her lazy movements, she cannot help awakening Dwalin who sits asleep in the chair next to her. Given his large drinking capacity as a dwarf, as well as his maturity, he feels none of the effects of the previous night, other than the chair's imposing of a cramp upon his back. This is what causes Dwalin to groan in harmony with the hobbit who finally manages to open her eyes.
"Master Dwalin, why-re you here?" she asks, grogginess clogging up her throat. She attempts to push herself higher into her bed, to very little success before Dwalin perches himself up to help her.
"To solve these problems. You drank far too much last night, lassie," he tells her, not coming across as criticizing or pitying, but blunt. Endor likes this about him, as she can relate to her lack of emotions on the usual occasion. It's just one of the things that makes her different than Bilbo.
But out of the corner of her eye, Endor sees the chair at the side of her bed, with squished pillows pushed into the linen fabric. Her brain may be foggier than normal, but her normal is pretty sharp. And thus, she finds herself confused as to why Dwalin spent the night here.
"You slept there," she murmurs, pointing lazily to the chair feet away before looking back at the gruff dwarf. "Do you care for me, Master Dwalin?"
The dwarf cannot help chuckling at her, seeing as she still is lost in her dreaminess. To anyone other than a dwarf, Endor would appear drunk, but the mountain-kin know better than this. With her pupils moving and her clear words, he can say she is simply tired, and not completely aware of her words.
"In no more than a friendly manner, but yes. You're different," Dwalin tells her, taking notice of her eyes following him suspiciously as he grabs a glass of water from the bedside table. Offering it out to her after taking a drink of it himself, she almost jumps with relief, guzzling the rest of it down. Dwalin huffs, knowing that he now has to get more water.
"And rightly so...and rightly so," Endor echos, swinging her legs over the bedside and placing her feet on the ground. Pushing upward, she takes a few seconds to reestablish her balance before grabbing the glass from Dwalin and heading out the door. This makes the dwarf like her even more, seeing as she does not treat any of them like servants.
Rushing out the door, Dwalin follows behind Endor's slow footsteps, making sure she does not have a nasty fall here in the stone corridors. They walk together into the kitchen, Endor noticing the missing Bombur she met last night. Dwalin reminisces on Bombur's square-dancing with Endor, a dance she was extraordinarily good at.
"Where can I find the water, Dwalin?" she asks, raising on her toes as if a better view will illuminate the source of the clear liquid. But Dwalin simply gestures for her to follow after him, as she realizes he is not one to talk on choice. If he can get away with silence, then Dwalin will always be silent.
He leads her into a room attached to the pantry, drawing a ladle of water from a large tub and pouring water into her cup. But just like before, she guzzles the liquid up quickly after blowing a few bubbles into the water, raising her glass for more. Dwalin almost huffs in irritation when they get to the fourth ladle of water, but she shakes her head and walks back to her room, smile on her face. Dwalin is surprised she is taking the drunkenness so well, given her immaturity. But if he were to guess, hobbits are large drinkers, and she is used to these repercussions.
"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.
When I came home yesterday to see Bilbo packing for his journey here, I knew he would not leave without me this time. There was no option for me other than Erebor. I've reached the end of my rope with these travels and this pain. I've tired, with nothing more than dreams to live by."
Dwalin does not know what to take of her account, desiring to hide his pity but feeling it all the same. So, in appeasement of his strange feelings and her own pain, he pulls her into his chest in an embrace. Endor huffs out in both surprise and impact with his armor, feeling weird as she attempts to wrap her arms around him. But it is a failed attempt, as he is far too wide for her arms, choosing to just smile and relax against him.
No words are said between the two, knowing how strange this is. Dwalin does not express emotion and Endor does not tell her story. And yet, here they are, embracing over her shared pain. To any outsider, the situation would be utterly baffling, but being tucked away into the shadows has its positives in hiding them. Thus, no words break their lips, even as they split from the embrace with Dwalin patting her back in a manly maneuver.
Smiling up at the dwarf, Endor turns back into the lighter hallway and back towards her room, Dwalin watching from his position in the shadows. And though neither acknowledges it, something changes between them and inside each of them. Endor has shared her secret with an outsider, relieving some of the pain on her chest. Dwalin has learned to respect this hobbit. But more importantly, they've fostered a friendship stronger than either have ever known, not based on loyalty or responsibility, but choice.
Dwalin can only smile at that as he turns to his duties for the day.
<||>
The week passes in a smooth progression from that day onward. Dwalin takes to Endor more strongly as he begins training her in weaponry in their free time. Endor learns more about the others and fosters deeper connections with most of the dwarves of the Company, and others outside their immediate friends. Perhaps the most important of these encounters is Bard, when Endor travels to Dale on one Wednesday morning with Dwalin.
It was simply her desire to see the city, not wanting to make a hastle of the humans' time. However, when Bard saw Dwalin in the marketplace, he could not help checking in on the dwarves. You see, Erebor is an isolationist nation with little desire to interact with others for reasons other than trade and military alliances. Thus, Bard could not help in questioning Dwalin of the whereabouts of King Thorin and the health of the Company. He was a caring man, and took great love of Endor.
The female hobbit, as witnessed and felt by Dwalin, has a way of getting under the skin of strangers and digging her way into their hearts. First, it was the Company, and then outsiders like Bard. Indeed, the only people who seem unaffected by the female was Balin and Thorin Oakenshield themselves. The latter had yet to even hear of her arrival, while the former was too muddled in his suspicion over Endor to recognize her good graces and pure heart.
Anyways, the visit to Dale did not go as expected, with Dwalin and Endor staying with Bard for a great part of the day. Of course, Dwalin did not desire to stay very long, but Endor had an affinity for the man, and thus, could not decline the offer to lunch with him. And it was a great lunch, with Bard and his grown children, and even their grandchildren. To Endor and Dwalin alike, the family was a dream and perfect example of a great life. But the former creature felt deeper pain at the scene: these people could have been her if only her parents had lived. At the time, she did not realize how she still had the chance of happiness with family, simply not in blood, but in bonds.
<||>
The chambers of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, were not up to the expectations of others, at least nowadays. What others expected to be jeweled were wood, order was now strewn papers and books, and antiquities were hidden stashes of gems. Indeed, if anyone were to come into the room, they'd never have thought it to be Thorin Oakenshield's chambers.
However, no one but the King himself and Balin were allowed in there. Locked and keyed in three places, it was a practical treasury of exchanged information and mysteries. It is the sole location in which Thorin Oakenshield is now living, darkened everywhere except in spotted places of gathered candles. The King Under the Mountain had become the King of the Darkness in the past few months, due to reasons unknown to everyone but Thorin and Balin themselves.
These are the two dwarves to sit in the room at this time, one surrounded completely by books at his desk, and the other staring at the King with concern. The current tribulations of Thorin Oakenshield have left Balin to the king's job, though others thought Thorin to be working through him. For it was true that the King had not been seen in weeks, strange yet unacknowledged with the great amount of business going on. The people had greater things to worry about than the mysterious disappearance of their king.
"Thorin, Thranduil is getting anxious about the jewels. Are you almost done with your curiosity?" Balin asks, peeking around the back of the King to look upon the book of today's interest. Thorin turns around in his small chair to look at Balin with contempt, knowing that every second spent talking is one less spent searching. He may be tired, but that is never any excuse for a king.
"He can wait a while longer. You forget: we have the jewels, and thus, all the power in this little arrangement," the deep voice responds, dry from disuse and dehydration. Balin hands him a glass of water, which the two brothers always seem to cart around, with Thorin grabbing it and taking a drink wearily. The King Under the Mountain had not changed much since the journey, still serious and pig-headed to his possible enemies and friends alike.
Thorin Oakenshield did not return the starlight gems to Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, following the Battle of the Five Armies. Despite the hopes of many, and most notably Gandalf, tensions rose once again between Erebor and Mirkwood following their short alliance against Azog. And thus, for the past twenty-nine years, Thorin Oakenshield has horded the elvish jewels while Thranduil has threatened him.
"I don't think that is wise," Balin responds, looking warily at the King Under the Mountain. To the mind of this advisor, Thorin is acting almost as crazily as he was under the dragon sickness, though he knows it to be for a good cause at this time. Yet, the king is really paying the price physically. His blue eyes do not gleam as brightly as they did months ago, and bags now hang under his eyes from little sleep. Thorin has paled and lost weight within these months, leaving a shell of his previous self.
"Well, it matters not what you think," Thorin responds, turning back in his seat to face the candle in front of him. His eyes watch the flames like a little game, drawing him deeper into weariness. His forehead comes to rest upon his hand, wishing to be done with his search and return to his kingdom.
"I am tired, Balin, of these petty ordeals...tell me, has Master Baggins arrived?" the king asks, wishing to speak on others matters at the moment. It's one thing to be locked in a room for hours a day, but to be put in contempt by his advisor makes it even more miserable.
"Aye, and brought with him his niece," Balin tells him, prompting Thorin to turn around in his chair to look at Balin with a raised eyebrow of curiosity and shock. The advisor has spent so much time working this past week that he has had little time to talk to Thorin, nevermind tell him of Endor Baggins. But now that Thorin has learned of her presence, he knows that Thorin will not let his curiosity go.
"Niece? I hadn't a clue he had a niece," Thorin shouts in a baffled tone. It is a strange concept that the burglar of his Company has an relation to the hobbits he saw in the Shire. Indeed, it was hard for all of the Company members to see this, until seeing Bilbo and Endor banter and bicker. Truly, the duo is overly humorous and a perfect example of family. But both Balin and Thorin do not know of this.
"I don't think any of us did," Balin remarks, and speaking the truth. Bilbo had just adopted Endor and Bilbo when he left for Erebor two years hence. And for his own emotions, he did not tell the others of his family since he did not know if Endor would ever return. Bilbo was hurt at the time, but now that Endor has promised to stay, he is fine with introducing her to his extended family in Erebor.
"Well, what's she like? A hobbit of the Shire or burglar of my Company?" Thorin asks, thoroughly entranced in his curiosity and thoughts over this mysterious hobbit. He can only imagine a female Bilbo with curly brown hair, gray eyes, and big feet. Yet the king knows that her looking exactly like Bilbo would be a strange coincidence.
"Neither, strangely enough, but of her own breed. There's something different about her," Balin says, increasing Thorin's curiosity over the hobbit female. It's one thing to learn of a friend's sudden family, but to hear they are "different" can change the entire thoughts of an individual. Now, Thorin cannot simply assume she is like Bilbo.
"How so?" the king asks, another mystery forming in his head as he thinks over this female. If she is anything like the male Baggins, there will be no air of mystery to her since Bilbo is an open book. Therefore, she must have some differences to the hobbit of his Company, and thus, Thorin is more inclined to be suspicious.
"It's not clear yet, but Bilbo alluded to some incident," Balin answers, looking off at the possibilities of this incident. Thorin follows along in this pondering, wondering what makes her so different. But it's the latter of comment of Balin that get's Thorin's main attention: "I will ask Dwalin, for he seems to get on well with the lady."
"Dwalin gets on well with a hobbit?!" Thorin sputters, his face overcome in extreme shock. It's true that Dwalin was the last dwarf to take to the hobbit in the Company, even after Thorin Oakenshield himself. So to think that Dwalin connects with some Shirefolk is overly outrageous, especially for a dwarf who never favored female company.
"Like I said, she's different," Balin says, baffled by the whole thing as well. No one knows Dwalin better than his brother, and Balin can say that his brother is overly suspicious and unaccepting of differences. But Endor Baggins has some attribute that has frozen these aspects of personality, and it is that aspect that he wants to know of.
"Well, I might just have to journey out to meet her," Thorin offers up, still staring at the ground as he ponders over this woman who has penetrated his best friend's heart. Balin looks up at the king with the cessation of his words, silently praising Endor Baggins for her ability to draw Thorin out of his cave.
"That curiosity will do you good. You haven't been out in weeks. This matter will drive you mad if you don't breathe occasionally," Balin says, a rare smile nowadays coming upon his face. These are the instances that truly illuminate the magic of Endor Baggins: the stranger is the creature that gets Thorin Oakenshield outside.
"I get where you come from, but this matter must be solved. The jewels have the answer and I am determined to find it," Thorin says, meeting eyes with Balin in a determined look. Balin remembers this expression well, seeing it on the first night of the Company's journey long ago. And that's when he knows that Thorin will never stop searching until he finds the answer. Thus, Balin just prays that someone will come along to help.
"And the break?" Balin asks, reassuring that Thorin's face will touch natural light tonight. The King is dearly in need of it, as well as a good meal. Maybe then, he wouldn't look half dead in the candle-lit colors of the room.
"I guess dinner tonight will not hurt," Thorin mutters, turning back around in his chair to continue his endless search. If he is to dine tonight, then more work must be completed now. Thorin simply needs time, though he fears he has too much of it. Any other business arising can be tended to by Balin and his nephews.
"No, laddie, it will not," Balin remarks, hitting Thorin on the back before moving out the door and into the light. So as Balin moves back towards the throne room, empty of a throne, the dwarf can only pray that a miracle comes along to save this kingdom through their king.
It isn't so surprising to him when that miracle is Endor Baggins.
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Hello readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as I put a great deal of effort into it. As readers have pointed out in the past, the Thorin Oakenshield I created in Saving Durin was not nearly like the Thorin Oakenshield of Tolkien. Thus, I've taken greater heed in my creation of his character in this story.
Thank you all for the wonderful comments and votes on this story! I am truly excited to continue writing and to post the first chapter of interaction between Thorin and Endor tomorrow. So, stay tuned and please vote/comment!
xo
Patagonian