||Chapter 5||
<|Third Age 2974|>
Endor's dreams were finally coming true after all the years of dreaming and struggling. She has found a family in the mountain home of the dwarves, branching out in ways she had never known before. That old tendency of hers to make friends everywhere has reappeared, though with the dwarves rather than the hobbits of the past. She is a magnet to all the people she meets, and a true light in their dark home.
In the mornings, she would train with the nephews and Dwalin in the weapon of her choice. She has made great headway in her skills, surprising many of the dwarves who thought her too weak due to race and gender. But if Endor is convinced to do anything, it will be showing these dwarves that women can be just as strong as men, if not stronger.
For lunch, Endor would dine with either her uncle, Dwalin, or the Company, if not all of them together. These were times of great joy and cheer for all of them, laughs exchanged more than words on many occasions. The bantering of Bilbo and Endor Baggins was always a sight to see, if not the pranks of the nephews and this niece. Ultimately, anything funny that happened, Endor was bound to have some part in it.
In the afternoons, Endor would often read in her room, work on her garden outside Erebor, or visit with others: on Wednesdays, it was Bard and his family, for example. Really, this hobbit spent time with every notable person in the Mountain, other than the king and his key advisor. They were far too busy in their respective duties that Endor practically forgot about their presence in Erebor.
At night, the Company and other close friends would gather for dinner in a hall of Erebor, spreading smiles through casual conversations that were not monitored in any way. Endor would surround herself in her direct family and those she grew to love: Bilbo, Dwalin, and the two sons of Durin. Of course, she felt a connection to all the dwarves, as they were so similar to her, but these four were her key company. And thus, she sat by them every night...all until one.
Somehow, the news that Thorin was joining them for dinner spread to the Company's ears before it reached her. Thus, she finds herself surprised as she walked into the hall, with the two nephews close to the table's head, while Dwalin and Bilbo sait farther down the table. Moving slowly towards the others in suspicion, she visibly claims the chair left between Bilbo and Dwalin, almost purposefully. Feeling heed to sit down, she leans over the back of the chair.
"What is going on?" Endor asks, knowing that Kili and Fili are sitting farther away for a good reason. She looks to the other dwarves now filling the two brothers' typical seats, smiling happily at them despite her unease. Across from her, Bombur sits with a large grin, seconded by his two family members on either side. Bofur simply grins at the blonde in that characteristic look of trouble.
"The King is joining us, lass," Bofur quips in his jolly voice. She furrows her eyebrows at this mention, hearing nothing of Thorin before today. Indeed, if she had thought about it earlier, their lack of conversing on him should have deemed him dead in all reasoning. Truly, it is overly suspicious that no one sees him or speaks of him. Endor can feel her curiosity stirring.
"Why tonight?" she asks, finally pulling out her chair and taking a seat. She cringes at the loud sound of pulling the wooden chair further into the table, so that she may easily access the food in front of her. Normally, the feast is half gone by the time she arrives, yet it is untouched tonight. Endor deems it a notion of propriety to await the king's company before eating. That explains the sound of growling stomachs around her.
"We do not know, though it's best if you stay silent right now," Dwalin mutters, failing to distinguish why her silence is necessary. But Endor follows in his words, trusting Dwalin's sense of propriety and advice. If he tells her to be quiet, then she will be as silent as the night.
Endor feels it unnecessary to heed the water in front of her, as it's not a real portion of the meal and she is very thirsty. Picking up the glass, she sips politely from the crown as her eyes wander the table. The two brothers chat quietly and seriously across from Balin, whom she has not seen since her arrival. Gloin and Oin sit in between Dwalin and Balin, staring heartily at the food. Next to Fili and Kili, Dori watches the others with blank eyes. At the other end of the table, the brothers of Ori and Nori converse with their eyes. It is strange to see everyone so tense, and Endor has a great hatred for the feeling.
The doors swing open from the left side of the room, prompting the others to freeze as feet appear from the closer side of the column. These boots lay wait to the muttled black trousers, then thick fur vest that covers a blue and royal tunic. Hand stitched cloth disappears under a well-trimmed beard with silver clasps, highlighting the few grey hairs in the dwarf's midnight hair. He reaches the head of the table in a few well-placed strides, only turning to face the masses as he sits in his large chair and begins eating.
The silence is extinguished immediately by the dwarves chowing and chatting, all at the same time. For this, Endor is thankful as she sputters over the water that drains from the cup in her hand. Attempting to smother her cough with a hand over her chest, she only manages to alert Dwalin and Bilbo of her choking, both of them patting her on the back. Endor peaks back up from under her thick and dark lashes, looking down the table at Thorin Oakenshield who has yet to even see her.
"That's Thorin Oakenshield?" Endor whispers astoundedly, watching as he converses easily with Balin to one side, and his nephews on the left. His mannerisms flow most naturally from the air of his royalty, shoulders straight and firm against the back of his chair.
"Yes, and our king," Dwalin responds, sounding slightly bitter, yet Endor knows better than to question the dwarf. Indeed, Dwalin will only reveal his inner feelings on his own terms and time, wishing for power over the spreading of his secrets for those he cares about.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Endor asks, too dumbfounded by the sight of Thorin Oakenshield to even touch her napkin or plate. Her eyes wander to those around her, wishing for an answer from any one of them. But the dwarves across from her are too busy eating like beasts, leaving only Bilbo and Dwalin to listen.
"What? Tell you what?" Bilbo counters as he reaches out to grab a bread roll from a basket of pastries. Endor huffs at her uncle's ignorance, though knows better than to expect anything different from him. She is the only female here, though this is not unusual given the small dwarrowdam population.
"That he is so attractive. I could have at least put some clean trousers on," Endor responds harshly, looking down at her dirtied green pants from planting earlier. But Thorin Oakenshield is truly beautiful, as she revolves her gaze onto him once more. He appears slightly sickly, despite his greatest intentions to hide it, yet it does not take away from the gods' sculpting. With high cheekbones, a noble nose, a perfectly trimmed beard, and poignant blue eyes, he is a sight for sore eyes. And Endor's eyes are very sore, spending her every waking moment with hairy dwarves.
"I didn't think that's a proper conversation to have with my niece," Bilbo responds, feeling extremely awkward in this moment. Of course, he expected her reaction to be like this, as she lacks a filter on most occasions and has spent a week surrounded by hideous company. However, that does not make this conversation any less strange to his ears.
"And when have you been proper?" Dwalin asks Bilbo, though he speaks from two chairs over. Bilbo leans over the table to look at Dwalin, giving him a glare that scares none of the dwarves nor Endor. At times, Bilbo attempts to be fear-inducing, but none of them feel anything of this sort. Rather, his angry face is simply hilarious.
"Says the dwarf who pillages my pantry," Bilbo mutters, leaning back into his chair with a scoff as Dwalin smiles slightly. Despite Bilbo's words, they both look upon this memory with favor, since it was the first time they met. If Bilbo had known what was to come in repercussions of that day, he would not have yelled nearly as much...but he still would have yelled some. They did ruin his plumbing, after all.
While the two men on either side of Endor gaze off into the past, she is stuck on the sight of Thorin and his nephews. Fili's eyes mirror that of Thorin as he laughs, though Kili most resembles his uncle's hair color. With smiles on the nephews' faces and a slight smirk on Thorin's, Endor cannot help gaping at the only handsome dwarves of this Mountain, quipping "Like damn, that family has good genes."
"Endor!" Bilbo shouts, looking outraged at her use of bad language. This seems to snap her out of her trance, looking away from the trio down the table before they turn their eyes on her. Endor looks at her uncle with a faked innocence, eyes widened to shine their bright blue. However, Bilbo knows this look well, turning away with eyes rolling.
Yet, down the table, Thorin Oakenshield hears a shout of a name, looking upward to see the burglar of his Company sending a criticizing look at the female next to him. Turning away, Thorin thinks nothing of it until his eyes whip back in shock of her appearance and identity.
This is the woman of Balin's recalling, the niece of Master Baggins. With her eyes wide, he gets caught up in the sheer beauty of her visage, blue orbs framed by dark and thick eyebrows that contrast to her pale tone. Her hair lays flat down her back in straight blonde locks, revealing a dirtied tunic like that of a peasant.
The girl's eyes turn around with Bilbo's looking away from his niece, looking simply to Thorin's two nephews as she attempts to ignore the kingly dwarf. At first, Thorin thinks she is looking at him, but when she makes a silly face, he knows the look is directed towards his nephews. Removing his eyes from the female, he looks to the distorted faces of his own kin, mirroring her silliness.
It seems as though Dwalin cannot keep his laughter in check, letting out a chuckle before choking over the potato soup he now eats. The sounds of his choking send Endor into protective mode, turning away from the hilarious brothers to pat Dwalin on the back, harshly at first then softer.
"Come on, big guy," Endor says, only smiling as Dwalin pushes her hands away. But even from far away, Thorin can see the affinity of his friend for the helpful and kind female, friendliness swimming between their eyes. Endor looks up, once more, to scan the table of her great friends, landing on Bofur with a finality of "I'd say the soup's especially deadly tonight. Aye, Bofur?"
"I think it knocked my socks off," Bofur says, raising his foot to show his lack of socks, and shoes altogether. The others, including Endor, burst into laughter at this, still stuffing themselves with food in the shifted joy of the room. But Endor has a thought in regards to her own words, looking over at a humoured Bombur, though slightly hurt.
"But don't get me wrong, Bombur, it's fantastic. Exquisite use of chiles, I tell you," she tells him, smiling a beautiful grin that practically stops the breathing of Thorin Oakenshield. It seems so natural for her to express happiness and humor, unlike the King Under the Mountain. She smiles like an innocent child, though obviously grown due to her young adult age.
Endor watches Bombur's cheeks grow red at her words and with the attention of many around her. She giggles at the sight of his jolly blush, standing to her feet to lean over and pinch his cheek between her soft fingers, exclaiming "Aww, he's blushing!"
Thorin cannot help looking her over fully as she stands from the table, being the only dwarf not to have seen her before. Her legs and body are lean muscle, giving her definition to her naturally boney shape. Thorin can already tell that she is an athletic hobbit, though from what activity, he does not know.
"Endor, that is not proper!" Bilbo shouts from beside and behind Endor as she pinches Bombur's cheek. Her happiness drains at his words, consumed and feeding her sudden fury over the "propriety" of her actions. It reminds her of the criticisms of her parents, and that of the hobbits nowadays. To both sets of them, she is an utter failure.
"Like being proper ever gets you anywhere!" she shouts angrily into Bilbo's face, taking deep breaths to calm herself as she plops back down in her chair. Her chest rises forcefully upwards and downwards, silence ticking through the group as they stare at her with misunderstanding. Indeed, it is only Dwalin and Bilbo who understand, the former one patting her head in comfort before turning back to his food.
This seems to set the others into motion, though without the happiness of before. Indeed, Endor is the life of the party, or the extinguisher of the fun, it would seem. Even the nephews cannot chat amiably, making small talk rather than jokes. Thorin's eyes revolve around to Balin's, in understanding of what needs to be done.
It comes as no surprise to anyone when Endor leaves early and alone despite the insistence of her uncle. The others dawdle out in the following minutes, leaving only a few dwarves to eat the food upon their plates. Within five minutes, Thorin is back to his room and his search, although his mind continually falls back onto Endor and her outburst. It's all he can do to push through her presence and resolve himself to another sleepless night. He does not need another distraction.
Back in the dining hall, Dwalin heaves himself from the table and moves through the door that Thorin entered from earlier. He easily perceives his own brother's following after him, with a white beard that glows and characteristic footsteps. Thus, Dwalin slows to a stop and waits for Balin in the hallway, knowing that a conversation is to come.
"You seem close to Endor, brother. I must say, that's the first for you," Balin says, continuing to walk and thus, pulling Dwalin along with him. The younger brother looks at the other with a protective gleam in his eye, like that when it comes to protecting family.
"She's genuine. Middle Earth needs more people like her," Dwalin answers. And although his words are truthful, it is blatantly obvious to both dwarves that Dwalin is protecting Endor from the questioning of the king's advisor...an advisor who acts solely for the king.
"But is it genuinity that makes her so strange?" Balin asks, coming upon the topic that divides them. Dwalin may be loyal to Thorin, as he is their dwarven king, but Dwalin is also loyal to those he cares for, including Endor. And, to him, this questioning seems like a sick game of curiosity for Thorin, and one Dwalin wants no part of.
"I have no idea what you mean," Dwalin responds, accelerating his pace, making Balin then follow after his brother. If Thorin and Balin are as curious as they seem, the two will stop at nothing to understand the hurt enigma of Endor Baggins. And Dwalin can only hope they are not hurt in the process.
"You're the only one who understands her...why is that?" Balin asks, placing a hand on Dwalin's upper arm. The younger brother pulls away at this touch, yet heeds to stopping at the feet of his sibling. Their eyes meet in battle, one on the side of the nosey, and the other on the side of the hurt. And though the most virtuous is obvious, Balin will always follow the command of Thorin Oakenshield.
"Who's asking?" Dwalin grunts, his joy of earlier not even a shadow to the current atmosphere. Surely, if anyone walked in on their conversation, they would feel the tension in the air. It's as if the two brothers have forgotten all their ties to one another, connected only to those that they protect and serve. They've forgotten their past tribulations together, and what they've gone through to come home.
"I am. Who else?" Balin answers innocently, refusing to back down from the task at hand. And yet, with every minute and motion, he becomes more hopeless to discover the true cause of Endor Baggins's differences. Dwalin is not one to back down from a fight, if not clear already, and will go to his own death to protect those he is loyal to.
"No one. But brother, I'll give you a warning. Her past is not one to mess with, even at the command of a king," Dwalin warns, sending a pointed look to Balin. And though the two are obviously fighting for alternate causes, they still hinder their anger for the sake of one another. Brothers will always fight, but not to the extreme of enemies or non-kin.
Balin fakes innocence, once more, at the words of his brother. Yet it fails to work, as this white-haired dwarf is a rubbish liar in the eyes of all. There is a reason he is often kept from secret meetings, as Thorin knows Balin cannot keep his lid shut. But Balin tries anyway, saying that "I have no idea what--"
"Save it," Dwalin cuts in harshly, not sparing a second look as he storms down a dark hallway. This younger brother hates the elder at the moment for the situation he has put them in, nevermind his secretivity when it comes to the whereabouts of Thorin. He is his best friend, after all, and no secrets should be kept from him.
Balin stares after Dwalin with a torn heart. His loyalty to his king and old friend keeps him committed to that cause, but keeping secrets from his brother and spying for Thorin is wearing on his nerves. Now that the king has hurt the bonds of brotherhood between him and Dwalin, Balin wonders to what extent Thorin will make everyone suffer to end his search.
Sadly, Balin ekxpects he will never stop looking, even if it means the end of Erebor.
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Hello readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the first one with both Thorin and Endor. True, there was no real interaction between the two of them, but that is to come within two chapters time, so stay tuned.
I hope you are all having wonderful days! Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy whatever-you-celebrate!
Thank you all for the amazing comments on this story, as well as the votes. You've made my Christmas wishes come true.
xoxo
Patagonian