||Chapter 9||
<|Third Age 2974|>
Endor Baggins has been making a conscious effort to avoid the library, even being the experienced reader that she is. However, it is for this exact reason that she avoided the location of books, knowing that if she picked one up, the dwarves would lose her for eternity. Therefore, it was for the sake of her social needs and those of the dwarves that she avoided Erebor's library like a plague, all until today.
The library is everything that Endor could have dreamed of, walking into the room just minutes before five o'clock. At first, when the need arose for books, Endor was hesitant to search this library with Thorin Oakenshield. But she has been putting off this moment for far too long, and the king is in need of her help. Endor cannot think of a better excuse for going against her promise.
The bookshelves tower into the heavens in proportion to the small hobbit. And unlike the shelves in her personal and temporary quarters, these ones are packed to the brim with stories from all ages and people: histories, novellas, folktales, and philosophy. So in the way that the shelves astound her, height wise, Endor is astounded by the amount of knowledge in this room. Even with eternity, Endor would not be able to go through them all.
Her bare feet wear through the room in her stumbling steps, paying no mind as she stares upon the beauty of the library. Spiral stairwells, as well as ladders, cling to the walls with the promise of more books on upper levels. The walls are made of rich oaken pieces and stone outfittings, worthy of royalty in every form. And the room is alit by sporadic fireplaces and lanterns, probably not the most brilliant choice, but the only one at that.
Endor sits herself down at an old wooden table near one of the fireplaces and near some plush leather couches. She is tempted to jump on them, to be sure, but with no sound echoing through these halls, she fears disrupting other readers. True, she has yet to see any dwarves here, but with the massive size of the room, there is bound to be someone in her presence.
"You're early." Endor whips around to face Thorin Oakenshield, her heart accelerating in pace from both his presence and his surprise. However, she hides this surprise with a stoic expression, leaning back into her chair as he moves towards the table.
"The early bird catches the worm," Endor quips as the King of Erebor sits down in the chair across from her. From the way they sit, his hair is illuminated by the fireplace behind his back, just as Endor's face is alit in firelight. So while he basks with an exterior light, she shines internally.
"It does what?" Thorin asks in complete confusion, having no clue as to how worms relate to anything of earliness. Endor's cheeks perk up at this, gladly knowing something that the king does not.
"It's a hobbit colloquial...pretty much 'early arrivals always win,'" Endor informs him with a small smile over the imagery. She remembers the small sparrows, wrens, and larks that found homes in the area of the Shire. As a child, Endor always awoke early just to play with them in the front yard. On many occasions, these birds would bring her presents of worms, just like a cat brings its owner a bird in a sign of devotion. Like Bilbo said: Endor has a way with animals.
"That's an interesting one. I am surprised I have yet to hear it from Bilbo," Thorin remarks, watching as the female's eyes light up at her own words. More than anything, the king desires to know what she thinks on, but given her previous anger over recollections, he decides not to ask. If he can keep Endor happy and that smile on her face, Thorin will not regret anything.
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...
