The Hobbit | The Lost Bender {Book 1}

6 | Dwarven dinner

{Rigmor POV}

Truly ghastly is what it was. Not that I didn't like the Dwarfs or their silly antics, but the sadness and desperation in Bilbo Baggins eyes made me feel a bit upset.

It was more than clear that he didn't like the presence of all this ruckus.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Gandalf asked as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You haven't even taken a single bite of that delicious turnover on your plate!"

I stared at my lap. "I just feel bad for Mr Baggins. He seems not happy with this visit."

Gandalf smiled, sitting down next to me.
"Cheer up a bit, Mr Baggins will grow to like it as well very soon. He just doesn't like surprises."

I smiled a bit and took a bite of my turnover, the rich aroma of apple and cinnamon filling my mouth.

"And?"
"I would recommend eating one of these, yes. They are quite delightful."

A hardboiled egg almost hit my head when it flew through the air, the Dwarfs around me laughing and yelling. Gandalf chuckled as he took a piece of what seemed like meat from the pile of food.

"Where is Myrna?" I asked him. He shrugged.
"I don't know, probably enjoying a good meal!"

Our conversation was interrupted by a greying Dwarf with braided hair.
"Excuse me, Mr Gandalf, can I tempt you with a nice cup of chamomile tea?"

He held the teapot up as if he was about to pour the warm liquid into a cup, but Gandalf shook his head. "Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think."

I watched as the wizard stood up, his frame a bit too large for the small Hobbit hole, and wandered out of the dining room, hitting his head on a chandelier with burning candles before he started to count the Dwarfs.

I sighed and went up to look for Myrna. I found her in between a Dwarf with a hearing trumpet and one cute-looking shy one. She was talking to the latter, which had a flustered look on his face.

He was nervous, I saw. A knowing smirk covered my lips as I sat down next to a Dwarf with a funny hat. "Bombur, catch!" he yelled at a Dwarf at the other side of the table and threw something through the air.

One way or the other, the redheaded guy managed to catch it in his mouth. Loud cheers were heard because of this achievement, and Fili had stepped on the table, manoeuvring between the piles of food while handing out ales.

"You one too, lass?" He asked me, holding out a tankard. I shook my head.
"No, thank you."

He shrugged and went on. The Dwarf with the tattoo's, I believed his name was Dwalin, heaved ale over in the hearing trumpet of the man Myrna was sitting next to, which put it to his mouth to blow out the beverage, making everyone laugh even harder. It made a muffled squealing sound.

"On the count of three!" someone yelled loudly. "One... Two... Three!"

All Dwarfs brought the tankards to their lips and started gulping it backwards. Beer seeped down across their chins, into their greasy, crumble-filled beards.

I shuddered, knowing what those men would do after. A short silence fell over the room as everyone swallowed their alcohol and placed down their cups.

Then, one after the other, they started to burp, loudly and several times, roaring laughter starting to echo across the room again. I cringed in disgust. How were we supposed to go on a trip with men like these? Not that I was afraid of getting dirty or only wanted people to be polite, but burping was just straight-forward childish.