||Chapter 32||
<|Third Age 2974|>
The next day is insufferable for Endor, not simply because she is spending little time with Frodo, but because she is spending all her time with Balin. Sure, the two have reconciled their issues, but that does not mean she appreciates his pessimism and constant delegating. Honestly, she has not felt this anxious since before her parents died, and that notion alone is enough to stress her out more.
Currently sitting in the throne room of Erebor, beneath Thorin's feet as he sits on the throne, Endor is tempted to jump from the bridge nearest her. For the past many hours, plans have worked out around her, with her voice chipping in ideas that are usually accepted and praised. But in the same way that it reassures her of her governing ability, it exhausts Endor to focus for this long.
"Now, lass, we need to be teachin' ya dwarvish customs of propriety," Balin says, gesturing for her to rise with the movements of his hand. But, like most people know already, Endor is not one to heed to the directions of others, choosing to raise her chin in defiance and her eyebrow in suspicion.
"So manners?" Endor asks, not paying a second to look at Thorin who is grateful that the attention has been pulled from him. One of his hands moves down to play with the hair on the crown of Endor's head, reminding himself to have a throne made for his One and soon to be Queen.
"Aye," Balin affirms, not catching the hint as he prompts her to stand again. She doesn't.
"Well, that's no problem. I am already well mannered," Endor tells him, crossing her arms and legs while leaning further back into the stone throne, getting as comfortable as she can.
Balin considers her words for a moment, simply baffled by this statement as he reminisces on her past stunts in private and public. "If you perceive your typical performance to be well-mannered--"
"That is not my mannered expression," Endor cuts in, confident in her abilities to practice perfect elegance, eloquence, and etiquette. If she did not know any better, her parent's training was meant to train her to be a queen.
"I do not believe you have manners," Balin barks back, prompting Endor to tense up in anger. Moments like these reveal the true tension between Balin and Endor, and how their personalities simply clash: Endor's free spirit rebels against the ordered and commanding spirit of the king's advisor.
"Would you like me to prove it to you, then?" the girl passive-aggressively growls through her clenched jaw. Thorin takes this as his cue to ease the tension around them, not wanting an upset Endor or Balin, nor a cat-fight in his throne room. He'd be the talk of Middle Earth, and all for bad reasons.
"Yes, we will do that at lunch today with the others," Thorin seemingly offers, though it is obviously a command. Balin looks unhappy with Thorin's interruption, but relents under the orders of the king. Of course, Thorin has no idea if Endor really has manners, yet he will always protect her dignity. He simply prays that she knows etiquette, not only for his sake, but for all of theirs.
<||>
Lunch does not come soon enough for a variety of reasons. Not only is the business boring and the hunger lurking, but there is a heightened competitive tension between Balin and Endor. Dwalin, having joined the trio soon after the bickering, sensed it almost immediately upon entering the throne room. And he has to say: this tension is far worse, though different, from the previous sexual tension between Thorin and Endor. Durin help Erebor.
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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...
