The Middle Earth Wonderers (The Hobbit/LOTR)

Chapter 7.

I rolled my eyes at Jack, leaning back and smirking. "Jack, how many times do I have to tell you? The day you do poetry is the day hell freezes over."

Jack clutched his chest like I'd just stabbed him, gasping dramatically. "How dare you speak such heresy! Poetry is the cornerstone of culture and emotion. When I unleash my verses, even the most stoic hearts will be moved!"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Oh, come on, Jack. Spare us the theatrics and save your poetry for the damn trees."

Lulu, who'd been listening quietly, jumped in with a grin. "Yeah, Jack, you really think your flowery words are gonna impress anyone? Stick to fighting."

Jack straightened up, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Let me cook, alright? Just one shot. I've got some serious lines waiting to drop."

I shot a glance at Mia, who just shook her head, clearly entertained by the whole thing. I turned back to Jack, laughing. "No, Jack. You ain't cooking. The fridge is running away, man, and the pan's already burnt. No one wants your poetic disaster today."

Jack put a hand over his heart, pretending to be deeply offended. "I'll have you know, my poetic prowess is unmatched. Just let me work my magic, and you'll all be swooning over my verses like maidens at a fair."

"Jack," I said through my laughter, "the fridge is fucking sprinting now. Stop it."

Jack huffed but kept up the act. "Fine, fine. Bunch of fucking spoilsports. But one day, you'll be begging for a taste of my poetic genius, I swear."

Lulu giggled, throwing in her own jab. "Jack, you probably burnt the damn bread at this point."

"Oh, Jack's rhymes are so bad, they could burn water," I added, grinning wide.

Lulu snorted at that, doubling down. "Exactly! Water-burning level bad. That's some god-tier shit right there."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "How the fuck does someone burn water? That's a skill in itself."

Lulu just laughed along, eyes sparkling. "It's a secret technique only the best poets know. Jack's got it down, just in all the wrong places."

Jack was mock-pouting now, crossing his arms. "You all just don't appreciate the finer things in life. My poetry is like a rare vintage wine—it gets better with age."

"Yeah, burnt wine now," I shot back, still chuckling.

He couldn't help but laugh, raising his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. I see how it is. You're all jealous of my poetic finesse, but one day, I swear, you'll be singing my verses to your kids."

That's when Kili and Fili, who had been watching and grinning the whole time, finally chimed in.

Fili snickered, elbowing Jack. "Careful, Jack. Keep talking like that and your head's gonna float away with all those big words."

I grinned and shook my head. "Jack, you've burnt the fucking air at this point. Stop cooking with that damn poetry."

Jack finally cracked, laughing and throwing his hands up. "Fine, fine! I surrender! Can't a poet dream of laurels and sonnets without getting roasted alive?"

We all laughed, the teasing easing back into our usual banter, but there was warmth in the air, and for a second, it felt like family.