The Hobbit | The Lost Bender {Book 1}

19 | The homesick Hobbit

{Myrna POV}

The rain had died down when I sat down against the wall of an old cave that had been abandoned long ago.

Carefully, I sipped the tea that Bombur had handed me.
My head was still pounding from the impact the rock had made on my skull, but I would manage.

Ironic, I thought, that an earthbender would get knocked out by such a projectile.

Fili was wringing out the soaked cloaks and hung them out above the crackling fire, which Oin and Gloin had set up in in the opening of the cave. That way, we wouldn't suffocate by the smoke and besides, it kept the wildlife away.

My eyelids were heavy and the lack of sleep had become visible on my face.
I wondered why the rest of the Company still looked rather fresh and full of life.
Perhaps it had been the little accident that had made me so drowsy.

If I had the chance, I was sure I could sleep for at least a week now. I felt someone plop down next to me, but it wasn't Rigmor, judging by the vibrations that rippled through the earth upon which my bare feet were placed.

That's what I loved about my clothes being drenched in water: I could take my boots off to let them dry and no one would get suspicious. I turned my head to the person and saw Ori.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked shyly, his hair almost falling in front of his eyes. His bangs were cut off neatly, but they were becoming a bit too long. I smiled kindly at the young Dwarf.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you." He grinned a little, looking at his fiddling hands.

My gaze averted to his hands as well, his digits were holding something.
A long piece of string so it seemed.
"What are you doing?" My voice startled Ori a bit.

"Oh eh... Just knitting."
He stared at his lap, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.
"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Knitting is stupid, eh? It isn't something for men. Kili and Fili make fun of me for it." The corner of my mouth turned upwards a bit.

"No."
"Pardon me?"
"No, it isn't stupid. I think it's pretty cool, to be honest!"

Ori's expression turned delightfully content.
"Really?" I nodded firmly, my wet hair dripping onto the soil we sat on.
"Really."

"You don't really think she means that, do you Ori?" I looked up and saw Kili, leaned against the wall with a scowl on his face. In his hand, he held his lit pipe, the end of it chewed on many times. Teeth marks were visible, and the other end was damaged by the sun and scratches covered the wood.

I figured this pipe had seen battle more often than Ori, who was shifting uncomfortably next to me.
"What do you mean?" he asked with a tiny voice, uncertainty lacing through.

"Well, obviously." The Dwarven prince explained, puffing smoke into the already thick air. "Of course, she doesn't want to hurt your feelings and says she likes your knitting. Truth is, you're a sissy and she is too afraid to say that."

My eyes widened.
"Excuse me?" I questioned, anger building in my chest.
"Well, it's true, isn't it lass?"

"Is it?" Ori's voice sounded quiet and unsure as he looked at me with large puppy eyes.

"Well?"

I looked away from his begging gaze.
Perhaps the smug prince in front of me was right.
"I thought so. Now, why don't you hang out with us?"

My eyes went to his face again, a deep frown forming on my own.
"No. Never. Not with someone as arrogant as you."
I spun on my heel, about to sit down next to Ori again, but the Dwarf had hoisted himself up, a hurt look on his face.