King of Erebor Part 3 (Thorin x Reader)
Credits for the image go to Pinterest and whoever made it and posted it. Cheers to them!! :))
Hello guys! Here’s Part 3! If you haven’t read the first two, here are the links: Part 1, Part 2
Y/N - your name
e/c - eye colour
A knock on your door woke you from your sleep. You had spent the entire afternoon arranging everything that, when you finally were able to return to your chambers, you quite literally jumped into your bed covers and shut your eyes to sleep. Unfortunately, all you dream about was the ball later, the load of work you’d have to do tomorrow morning for cleaning and preparing for the wedding, and about Thorin choosing a bride he actually loves. You knew it sounded evil but you couldn’t help yourself.
“I suppose love manifests itself in different ways in different times,” you thought in your dreams, wedding bells ringing in your ear.
Now, another knock tapped on your door.
“Who is it?,” you groaned, peeling your eyes open.
You immediately pulled the sheets up when you saw Tauriel and Kili peek inside, the bed directly in his line of sight.
“Kili! What the hell! Tauriel, what in the world?!,” you shouted.
“Are you decent?,” Tauriel asked.
“Uhh, I’m in pajamas?”
They both breathed a sigh and marched in, pulling the heavy curtains that blocked the light outside open.
“Woah,” you said, squinting from the fading sunset that hit your eyes, “What’s happening? I’m pretty sure there’s no emergency Kee.”
They both paused and looked at you in disbelief.
“Aren’t you going down to the ball?”
“But-but,” Kili spluttered, “You love uncle!”
Your brow shot up.
“That doesn’t mean I have to go down.”
“It could be your last chance to win him over!”
You yawned, pushing the pangs in your chest to the side and masking your face with cold indifference.
“Perhaps not today, Kee. I’m sleepy. Plus, I’m technically a servant, not nobility or anything like that.
“You’re the hero of Erebor!,” Tauriel protested. “And you have at least three hours still to get ready if you want to go down!”
“Just please leave me alone,” you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest, “Let me bear my misery I n silence.”
“Lady Y/N?,” a voice from the door called.
All your eyes turned to see Balin who was waving an invitation to the ball.
“Please tell me that’s not for me,” you pleaded, collapsing back into bed and snuggling under the blankets for momentarily comfort in a future lifetime of emotional pain.
“It’s for Tauriel and Sigrid,” Kili piped up, going to Balin and getting the invitations, “The ball is a big deal to dwarves so only individuals with actual invitations will be permitted to attend.”
Kili suddenly groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“What?,” you asked in confusion, “What did I say?”
“It’s not you,” Balin answered for Kili, “Kili just found out that he’s seated beside King Thranduil of Mirkwood.”
“Couldn’t you put me somewhere else? Hopefully beside Tauriel?,” Kili requested hopefully.
Balin shook his head with finality and regret for Kili’s dilemma.
“Diplomacy is your assigned to-do for tonight.”
Kili snorted and handed the two invitations to Tauriel for her to hand to Sigrid later when they’d meet after changing. Balin’s gaze moved to you and he lifted his eyebrow.
“Y/N, why aren’t you dressed?”
“I’m done with my duties for today,” you shrugged, “I’m no longer needed.”
“You’re the adviser of the King, Y/N, and he’s about to choose his bride.”
“I believe you’re supposed to attend, whether you like it or not lass.”
Inwardly, you were panicking. Inside Out, a movie from the real world, basically simplified what was happening in your mind. Fear, anger, and sadness were be jamming on the buttons continuously in your brain’s control center and making you become a bundle of emotions and nerves.
“I don’t want to and I won’t,” you snapped, “I’m tired and have prepared literally every single thing for that f-ing ball! The least thanks would be to leave me the hell alone and let me get some reading and horseback riding done.”
You hadn’t realised how angry you were until you saw Bilbo peek behind Balin unsurely. Taking a deep breath, you released your clenched fists and looked back at Balin. This ball was important and you did everything you could do prepare it. The dinner was set, the ballroom was sparkling, and the program was well-made to suit everyone.
“Y/N?,” Bilbo squeaked.
“Yes Bilbo?,” you sighed tiredly.
“Are you going to the ball? Frodo is waiting for you to take him down with him.”
Am I really the only person who can do these things?, you thought in annoyance.
Tauriel, feeling your growing agitation, floated to your side and placed a calming hand on your arm.
“Y/N,” she whispered, “We do not mean any harm, we simply want to make sure you are and will be alright.”
You stared at her with your turbulent e/c eyes and lay down your armor.
“I’m really sorry for snapping guys,” you apologised profusely, “I’m just feeling worn out right now.”
Everyone replied with their own forgiving words and apologies.
“Well, Y/N, will you go?,” Bilbo repeated, “I don’t think Frodo will stay long if you don’t.”
You shook your head.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
Kili burst out in laughter.
“Sorry to be rude, Y/N, but that’s a loud excuse. We literally gifted to you an entire wardrobe as one of our many thanks. Aren’t you aware of that?”
You furrowed your brows and that was Kili’s answer. He walked over to a large wall beside your bathroom door and pulled a handle behind your dresser which was located at the corner of the room. Immediately, the large wall slid to the right and a hallway inside lit up brightly. Curious, you grabbed a large shawl, wrapped it around yourself after standing up, and walked over to the new addition to your room.
It was like in Princess Diaries 2 movie from the real world but smaller and more circular. The walls were racks with every clothing imaginable hanging on them. To your left were glittering and beautifully simple gowns and dresses from both different places of Middle Earth and your world, while, on your right, were pants, shorts, and shirts. Drawers were in the center of the room and as you pulled each of the three stacks open, you stared. The first row was filled with underwear (including lingerie apparently), the second row was filled with accessories (sunglasses, glasses, bags, etc.), and the last row was a dwarven safe which, when opened, was full of jewellery.
“Bloody hell,” you murmured then turned around to a smirking Kili and a shaking her head Tauriel, “What-”
“And don’t say you don’t want them since it’s either you use them or they rot,” he jumped in before you could say a word of protest.
You shook your head and bit your lip, taking in the different clothing that somehow simply suited you.
“How’d you know my size?”
“Tauriel and Sigrid helped us guess.”
You laughed then patted Kili on the shoulder as thanks before you stepped out of the closet and walked everyone out of your room.
“Well, are you going?,” Kili questioned eagerly, looking like a lost puppy, “Please say you’ll go! You’re seated beside uncle and Fili anyhow so you won’t have to endure any people you don’t like!”
Biting your lip, you nodded then faced Bilbo.
“Tell Frodo I’m going to be down late so if it’s time for him to sleep, he can’t wait for me.”
Bilbo nodded and trotted off.
“How long until you get down lass?,” Balin inquired.
“First I need to gather myself then dress up then attempt to look presentable so average an hour or two if I take my time,” you replied then narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s non-negotiable and non-changeable.”
Balin sighed then agreed, waving you goodbye. Kili and Tauriel went off to change too, leaving you alone in your room.
You shit your door and slid down to the cold floor, slamming your head onto the heavy wood behind you and biting down on your lip so hard it nearly bled. Images of possible events in tonight’s ball flickered through your mind. Thorin scanning the room for his heart and Balin announcing it was time for the king to do the 7th dance of the night with. What’s the 7th dance? Well, apparently, in dwarven culture, 7 was the perfect number thus, the 7th dance during tonight’s ball, would symbolise the perfection and love between Thorin and the individual he decides to be with for the rest of his life.
For the rest of his goddamn life. Fuck. Good luck getting out of this one now, Y/N!
Thorin’s mysterious and stormy yet gentle and focused blue eyes painted themselves in your head and looked through you, into the very deepest and darkest parts of your being.
Mahal help you.
If this is how I’m going to go down, you muttered to yourself, then it’s the best way that I ever could and the only way I ever want to.
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