*Not a fan-fiction.* A short scene of a family dinner with an awkward guest.
It was awkward. That was the only way to explain it – awkward and feverishly weird. She was placed near the guy and kept her head lowered, trying to skip any tries for conversation. She was playing with her food she’d prepared earlier for family dinner.
Sister had brought a guest.
He had dark hair, army built and had a glimpse in his eyes right from the beginning that we had met somewhere and he was here to present that to her family. With sister’s overdoing expression she knew immediately they had something planned for her and that sinking feeling destroyed her mood for the evening. So now she was sinking her fork in the porridge.
Suddenly he glanced at her and with a wide grin asked. “So! Do they know you were called hobbit in the army?”
She looked up once, slammed the fork spikes first in the wood of the table, grabbed her plate and walked out. Everybody was shocked quiet, including the guest.
Oh yes, how else would you call a cook? She was never fit enough to go on the field, but she was good at providing the perfect food in bulks. And it wasn’t long after she started hearing the word hobbit tossed after her when she walked by.
There was nothing her family knew of her life in the army. Nothing she wanted them to know. She was basically cast aside and ordered to cook. After the first week it became obvious and permanent. That was like death sentence for someone hoping for a career in army. So she left the army after basic training ended.
How much of this had ended up in her sister’s ears thanks to their mutual acquaintance? Only she couldn’t recall him from the folks hanging around their territory. So perhaps someone from the Ton exercises.
She was in the kitchen and tossing the food away from the plate, when he sneaked behind her and stopped on the door.
“You haven’t looked at me once since I walked in.” He started with a slow murmur, but saw her sharp intake and pulled back the flirt. “You’re attracted to me?” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement, which she refused to respond.
“You haven’t told them.” He said suddenly. She shook her head.
Yeah, something else happened there too.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She responded with a nod again, but wouldn’t look at him.
He left, back in the room where they came from. She stayed behind to take a breath.
When she finally dared to go back, after flashing through all her army history, she saw him supporting himself against the door to the living room and slowed.
“We called her hobbit, because she always managed to provide us, even with the leanest options. Not because she is short or grizzly hair. She just… always managed. It was honoring. She was perfect provider.”