||Chapter 10||
<|Third Age 2974|>
Thorin Oakenshield cannot shake that darned hobbit out of his head. Whether conscious or asleep, Endor seems to haunt his every thought and breath, as if he's known her for years on end. But it has yet to even be a single day of friendship. Thorin wants to hit his head against the wall thrice in an attempt to jarr her from his thoughts and punish himself at the same moment.
Like any good dwarf, the king decides to take his anger out at himself through violence. And thus, that's how he finds himself on the way to training, sleep still hanging from his eyes as he ties his hair up with a piece of leather. True, this schedule of his is no different than normal, though today he is far more anxious for physical exercise than any day before this. He needs someone to punch the woman out of his mind...maybe that'll knock some sense into him.
When he arrives, Thorin is failed to feel surprise at the presence of others in the room, including the blasted woman herself. She stands in one corner of the sparring area, talking to Oin and Gloin with large movements of her arms. The two seem overly entertained by her company, as she seems to be recounting a story, although Thorin quickly looks away to avoid the temptation to join them.
Thorin heads closer to the Captain of the Guard, Dwalin, who seems to be warming back up to the king. Dwalin, of course, saw Thorin's staring at the hobbit moments ago, though he has no desire to address the king's obvious attraction to his friend. However, he questions why Thorin is staring at her in this moment, with her hair in a mess and face crumpled from sleep.
"How are they doing?" Thorin asks, shifting Orcrist between his hands as he sets it on the ground. It's a bad habit of the king, Dwalin has come to notice.
"They're all fit and quite prepared. It's their mindset that worries me," the captain responds, worry evident in his tone and words.
"In what way?" Thorin asks, looking to Dwalin with a raised and worried eyebrow that seems to be contagious.
"None of our people want to march into war Thorin, especially with the elves," Dwalin remarks, looking completely serious as only necessary and desired.
"I'm not planning on sending them," Thorin says, throughly wishing to avoid trouble with Thranduil. After the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin developed a great hatred for the war scene, almost against the character of a dwarf. But with the scars of that battle, it is understandable why he hates it.
"You won't have much of a choice if you do not give those jewels back," Dwalin scoffs, annoyed that Thorin is still dawdling around in the mystery rather than trying to ease tensions. For a quick moment, the captain holds a hint of contempt for Endor's distraction of the king, but he wipes it away knowing that she only desires to stop the war.
"I am planning on it...but, I do not know how to do some effectively," Thorin says, admitting his weakness to the only confidant he had before yesterday. For some reason, the king wishes to trust Endor, though he knows far too little about her to be honest.
"Easy, you send a message by raven telling him to meet you someplace to exchange the jewels," Endor remarks, walking up behind the two and causing Thorin to whip around in surprise. She sends him a lazy grin, watching as Dwalin rolls his eyes at Thorin's surprise.
"How are you so quiet?" the king asks, counting the number of instances she has snuck up on him, not forgetting how she also spied on him without him noticing. It's as if she's a ghost upon her choosing.
"You forget that she is the niece of the silent burglar," Dwalin reminds Thorin, prompting the royal dwarf to grunt in acknowledgement of this truth. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet.
The king then looks back at the female hobbit who seems overly curious as to the way his hair now exists. As Endor stretches up to the leather holding his hair, he flinches away instinctively. Huffing at the nonsense of this king, she quickly ties a bow out of the leather strip, smiling and backing away once she is done. Thorin can only stare at her in irritation and surprise, though humor plays in his eyes.
"And how would you plan on dealing with Thranduil's refusal to meet?" Dwalin asks the hobbit, pulling Thorin out of his trance. He clears his face of emotion, though acknowledges the subtle blush hiding under his beard. If only Endor knew that she was playing him like he plays her...
"That's an issue for another day. I only know this: the longer you wait, the greater the hostility," Endor remarks, waving the two of them off as she moves towards the sparring area once more. The two of them watch her go in continued confusion over her character, though they doubt she will ever be fully understood.
"Does she fight?" Thorin asks, remembering Balin mentioning something of this sort, though not trusting his memory when it comes to the hobbit.
"She does now. I've been teaching her with the lads, but mainly Fili," Dwalin says, looking at the hobbit who now stares at the shiny weapons upon a nearby rack. If he didn't know any better, Endor could be a mindless creature that's entranced by shiny objects.
"I assume she uses a sword," Thorin remarks, knowing that Fili specializes in swordsmanship and knives. Kili will always be the archer of the dwarves, just as Dwalin only fights with axes.
"Two actually--dueling swords," Dwalin responds, prompting the king to turn to him with a raised eyebrow.
"An interesting choice," Thorin mutters, silently asking for more information on how she came to wield two swords. In no way is this a normal weapon choice, especially for dwarves.
"Well she's quick and agile, making her perfect for swordsmanship. But she does not have the strength to handle a full blade. Thus, we gave her two shorter ones and we've never looked back," Dwalin says, grinning proudly at his star pupil who now seems to be lost in space.
"How good is she?" Thorin asks, wondering how far she could have possibly progressed with two weeks of training. However, the king knows he cannot underestimate her, given Dwalin's proud grin and Endor's sharpness.
"I'd say she got her ease of learning from Bilbo...she's a natural," Dwalin remarks, barely finishing his words before Thorin sets off towards the small hobbit. The other dwarves, both stranger and friend, watch him walk with conviction towards the only female in the room. When she finally meets his eyes, just feet away, Endor relapses into visible fear before stealing it up behind a blank expression. Thorin can only grin at this reaction, seeing as he does the same, while grabbing two shined dueling swords from the rack nearby. He offer them out to her, her eyes shining onto his in question before slowly rising to her feet and grabbing her own weaponry. What is he planning now?
Thorin does not look back as she follows slowly behind him to the center of the dirt arena. Both their faces reflect serious demeanors, though Thorin is filled with curiosity while Endor is terrified of what is happening. The others in the room make quick work of circling around the two, though Endor knows this match will be nowhere as entertaining as that between Thorin and Dwalin.
"This is crazy! I have no chance of winning," Endor addresses the king in a relapse of her filter, once again. Thorin grins, almost maniacally, at her while beginning to circle her smaller form. Not wanting to seem inferior, Endor follows after him, keeping him across the center of the circle and three feet away.
"Of course you don't, but it's not about winning," Thorin remarks, leaving Endor to question what he means. But before she can go to asking him, the king is swinging Orcrist at her.
A quick scream escapes her lips before she blocks the attack by crossing her two shorter swords in front of her body. Her scared eyes meet the excited ones of Thorin, and that is when she realizes that she is in for it. While he goes to attacking, again-and-again, she evades and blocks his every move with a grace that she lacks in every other circumstance. But as the minutes pass and she is still standing, Endor begins to strengthen in her confidence. Instead of pure defense, she begins practicing offense while using her great skill of agility to slink near the king in quickness. Thorin uses his own agility, but an additional strength, to go after her and block her nimble attacks. Indeed, the woman makes great use of her deductive skills to predict his attacks, though Thorin's experience in battle is unbeatable.
In a sudden move that Endor has yet to have experienced, Thorin tucks his foot behind her ankle, pulling her to the ground and pointing Orcrist to her neck. They both still wear stoic expressions, though pant heavily with the ten-minute duel coming to a close. Around them, they hear the cheers of the other dwarves, awed at the skill of both dwarf and hobbit, but especially their dancing battle together.
With his breath catching up, Thorin removes the sword from Endor's neck, replacing it with a hand to help her up. She just stares at the king, not knowing if she wants to commit herself to the help, but a smile on part of the king stops her questioning. Her hand latches onto his as he pulls her easily to her feet, though she drops it quickly in order to busy herself with brushing off the dirt on her back and trousers.
"You are impressive," Thorin remarks, proud of both Endor for her skill, and Dwalin, Kili, and Fili for their help. A ten minute duel with the king is one thing, but when the competitor only began training two weeks ago, it is incredible. Thorin thought he once heard Gandalf say that hobbits are the most remarkable creatures, and Thorin now cannot help in agreeing.
"Thank you, Master Dwarf," Endor remarks, coughing awkwardly as the others stare at her. "I was really trying."
"And succeeding. I nearly lost for a second there," Thorin remarks, a small smile on his face, though it is only visible to the short Endor Baggins. Her cheeks blush at his words, forcing her to turn away and continue brushing the dirt off her legs.
"Beginner's luck is all," Endor says, reminding Dwalin of her inability to ever take a compliment.
"No, not beginner's luck," Thorin says in a rare show of care for another. But what is more surprising to both Thorin and Endor is the king's reaching out to brush some stray dirt off the hobbit's shoulder, his hand finally brushing downward to rest warmly on her arm. Their eyes lock in a mutual feeling of breathlessness, not from battle, but simple contact.
"Dora! You are amazing!" Kili exclaims, practically bulldozing her to the ground before Dwalin catches the hobbit. Endor can only blush as the prince embraces her in a hug, followed quickly by Thorin's other nephew.
"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Endor asks, faking irritation at the mere fact that Farmer Proudfoot always called her "Dora." However, the nephews are not hobbits, but great friends with only good intentions.
"Not nearly enough. Good job, Shorty," Fili says, smiling at her before she rushes at the two of them in a playful chase.
Dwalin and Thorin can only watch these overgrown children in their antics, though Endor holds the soul spot of Thorin's eye. The remainder of the crowd shuffles away with the end of the battle, paying little mind to the staring king.
"I think she's stolen your pride," Dwalin remarks with a large smirk.
"I think she is my pride," Thorin mutters, imagining what it would be like to introduce her to others as an Ereborian warrior, and something more.
"Will you tell her?" Dwalin asks, wishing the best for the small and kindly hobbit.
"Never," Thorin responds before turning his attention to his duties as king over Erebor. "Come, we have a bigger pestilence to face. Let's go send that letter to Thranduil."
<||>
Endor is the first to arrive again that night, though she is extremely surprised about this. After battling the king this morning, she spent many hours doing intense training in an attempt to become an even better warrior. Of course, she will never be as good as that king, but it does not mean she cannot try.
But in response to the trying, Endor now finds herself extraordinarily sore and in need of walking at a snail's pace. Thus, she makes it to the library strictly on time, only to find that Thorin is late. Plopping out at the table, Endor stretches her legs across the chairs, feeling the joints pop with each muscle's movement. But thick footsteps draw her attention away, flipping her head around to look at a humored Thorin, in response to her pain.
"Good evening, Master Dwarf. Are you ready to continue on with this mystery?" Endor asks, wiggling her eyebrows to emphasize the great amount of fun this will be.
"You make it sound more interesting than it really is," Thorin responds, though he seems slightly humoured, not at the mystery, but at the strange woman in front of him.
"A mystery is a mystery...practically a state function," Endor remarks with a slight shrug, not realizing how educated her words are before they leave her mouth. It's a continual problem for the hobbit, it would seem.
Thus, it comes as no surprise when the dwarf king's face turns into that of confusion, looking at the woman strangely. "I am not going to ask."
"That just might be best," Endor remarks, shaking her head in criticism at herself. Thorin takes a seat across from her at the table, looking at her with seriousness that leaves her wondering what he is thinking. "Have you sent the letter?"
"Yes, earlier today and after training," Thorin says, drawing her back into the last conversation she wants to have: "I must insist: you did very well today."
"I did humbly. Now, have you heard anything back from the elven king?" Endor counters, leaving Thorin to huff in irritation at her inability to accept a compliment of utter honesty.
"No, but I don't--" Thorin begins only to be caught up in the running of a messenger, into the room, dropping the message on the table, and leaving within seconds. Endor wonders how he moves so fast, but his job must be a great practice of speed. Maybe she should ask to be a messenger.
Thorin looks baffled by this intrusion, eyebrows furrowed at the quickness of Thranduil's reply via raven. If Endor could guess, Thorin does not typically communicate with people outside his border if he has any choice. That would at least explain the shock he holds over the messenger.
"And I was half expecting him to shoot the bird..." Thorin mumbles from his trance, prompting Endor to laugh jovially and slowing Thorin further. The king listens into the melody of her joy, ripping open the message with a slowed haste and worry for Thranduil's words. But when he sees the letter, he cannot help in his sudden scoff. "Oh, even better!"
"What is it?" Endor asks, standing from her chair and sliding onto the table to sit above Thorin and look over the letter.
"He responded in elvish...I'm going to kill that pointy-eared bastard," Thorin grumbles, though he is far from shocked at this choice of the elven king.
"Take a breath. I'll read it," Endor remarks, going to nab the paper from the king's hands when he holds it away from her in shock.
"You speak elf?" he asks, though practically shouts in Endor's nearby ear, making her cringe.
"I speak elvish," Endor says, rolling her eyes at the ignorance of Thorin Oakenshield.
"How?" Thorin growls, looking at her as if she is a traitor to her own kind.
"I read," Endor replies with that usual line, going to grab the paper only for Thorin to hold it away from her once more. This time, the hobbit growls much to the surprise of the dwarf king.
"Now why would you want to know the language of my enemies?" Thorin seriously questions.
"They're not my enemies, now are they?" Endor remarks with a case of complete logic that Thorin cannot help grunting in agreement. "And it comes in handy for situations like these and travelling."
"You travel?" Thorin asks, prompting Endor to cringe back at the realization of her words. She must be more careful around this curious king.
"Yes, but that is for another day. Give it to me," Endor demands, though Thorin continues to hold it away from her body. Once again, the woman growls challengingly at the king, though Thorin can only grin at her response this time.
"One more question," Thorin says, raising his finger to emphasize the one.
"Shoot," Endor grumbles, leaning back on her hands so that she now leans farther from the dwarf king.
"Do you know anymore languages?" Thorin asks, another question hiding behind this lesser one.
"Most of those used in these lands," Endor remarks simply, placing her hand outward for Thorin to place the letter in.
"You know Khuzdul?" Thorin finally asks, though Endor expected it.
"That's another question," Endor quips, attempting to be as difficult as the king is being at this moment.
"Just answer me," Thorin growls threateningly, though it seems impossible to truly scare this hobbit.
"Yes, I know Khuzdul," Endor relents, shutting Thorin up before he can cut in with another question. "And yes, I know it's safe guarded by the dwarves, but that does not mean there are no Khuzdul books out there, now does it?"
The king can only grunt unhappily at this, finally handing her the letter that she is more than happy to read. The curiosity is killing her as much as it is hurting Thorin, knowing he could be the cause of a war. Endor simply wants to protect these people that she loves.
"Let's see..." Endor says, reading from the text on the page while translating:
"It's about time that you replied, and I was just about to send my troops. In any other matter, I'd tell you to bring the jewels yourself. But I hold no trust in your conscience. I will be there at noon in three days' time."
Endor and Thorin simply stare at each other as her words unlatch from the paper, setting it down on the table. They both express that identical lack of emotion until Endor suddenly breaks into uncontrollable laughter. "I like him!"
"He's a traitor," Thorin says with a look of contempt at her joy.
"A traitor he might be, but you cannot downgrade that attitude. It's priceless," Endor replies, allowing Thorin to grunt at her recognition that the elf king is a traitor. Thorin moves his hands towards the letter, before returning it into its envelope and tucking it into his coat.
"Now, where are we with Ori's journal?" Thorin asks as Endor moves back around the table to sit at her original chair.
"Done. I read it this afternoon and there is no hint to anything that may cause prolonged life," Endor replies honestly, though she spent much of her time looking at the pictures rather than reading. Ori truly is a remarkable artist.
"I thought we were doing this together," Thorin growls, too offended for such a petty matter. Indeed, it would seem that he regrets the lost opportunity to spend time with the blonde hobbit of the Shire.
"Well, only one person can read at a time," Endor reminds him, prompting Thorin to grunt in agreement once more. "So now we have Orcrist, which poses a whole new problem?"
"Why?" Thorin asks, wondering why his sword is such a problem in their search.
"I do not speak the elvish of the First Age. For that, we need an actual elf," Endor remarks, reminding Thorin that the sword was made in the First Age. This prompts the king to release a loud groan, laying his forehead on the table as Endor chuckles at his childish antics.
"But we now have that. Thranduil is bound to know ancient elvish," Endor remarks, prompting the dwarf king to rise his head to look at her with furious eyes.
"He'll discover our problem!" Thorin exclaims, thinking over how horribly that would go with the king of the elves. Thranduil always bragged of his immortality and the dwarves mortality, putting Thranduil in a superior position. Thus, shifting that notion may prompt an emotional response on part of the elven king, and nobody wants that.
"Not if we go about this wisely...and for that, you will need me," Endor remarks with a wink which Thorin rolls his eyes at. His nephews are rubbing off on the hobbit.
"I am disinclined to acquiesce, but I do believe you are right. Balin has no cunning," Thorin remarks with humour in his tone, prompting Endor to burst into more laughter and Thorin to smile at her. Although these two individuals often clash, they cannot help feeling happy and complete in the company of one another.
"So we'll bring Fili and Kili...'" Endor remarks, not expecting the faltering expression that crosses Thorin's face. "What, what did I say?"
"Kili might not appreciate that sentiment," Thorin remarks thoughtfully, remembering Kili's last encounter with the elves of Mirkwood with a cringe that Endor can see.
"Why ever not? I thought he liked conflict," Endor asks, baffled by the notion of Kili's discomfort, as he often makes light of everything.
"He does...in every other case except for one it comes to Tauriel," Thorin remarks, cringing once more at the name of the eleth who hurt his nephew.
"Who?" Endor asks in a hurry.
"Kili's One and the Captain of Mirkwood's Guard, whom Thranduil will probably bring with him," Thorin relents, his eyes falling from the hobbit's face. She releases a saddened sigh at this, feeling a pang of hurt for her good friend, as Thorin basks in his care for the younger nephew of his family.
"Why did he not tell me?" Endor asks Thorin, losing the humour that pertained to their every word just minutes ago.
"It did not end on a good note with her choice to leave him for her home," Thorin responds, falling into further disrepair but not before pulling Endor with him.
"Oh...I cannot try to understand that...I'd never leave your Company, but that might be because I had no home before coming here," Endor says, tears rising in her eyes as she relates the story back to her own life. This alerts Thorin back to the hobbit in front of him, curiosity and care stirring his heart.
"What do you mean?" Thorin asks, eyebrows furrowing in an attempt to catch her gaze, though it fails.
"...nothing," Endor mutters, though she is tempted to tell him. Maybe another time. "We should offer up the chance to Kili and let him decide."
Thorin looks at the fallen face of the woman in front of thim, tempted to dig for more information, but not wanting to hurt Endor further. Thus, the king can only lean back in his chair, sinking into the melancholy of this changed conversation. "Of course."
Endor nods at the king, never once meeting his eyes, as she stands to her feet at the table. She makes no sound as she leaves the room, though Thorin thinks he sees a tear glint down her cheek, catching in the light of the fire. He wishes to rush after her form when she exits the library, but thinks better of it. After all, she has Dwalin to comfort her nowadays.
If only Thorin knew how wrong he was...and how much Endor wished Thorin would run after her.
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So, this chapter kind of ended on a sad note...which will continue through the next few chapters. Like I've said in previous notes: the relationship between Endor and Thorin is a smoldering one that will not be nearly as easy as in my previous stories. With the depth of their characters and personal problems, disagreements and denials are bound to occur. But I promise that it will be happy again within a few chapter.
I hope you are all having great days! Please vote and comment!
xo
Patagonian