Chapter Text
You had tried every trick in the book to get out of this. Pretending to be sick, insisting that you had to stay in late and work, pretending that you had nothing to wear. But your mother was probably the most stubborn dwarrodam in the entire mountain, and that was saying something.
"Quit your Aulë*-forsaken whimpering and put on the dress. You are going, end of discussion!" She thrust the dress in her hands towards you, and you sighed, taking it from her.
"Chop chop, we don't have all day. Mind your hair." You rolled your eyes but went to put on the dress. It was beautiful, you couldn't argue with that, but that didn't mean you wanted to put it on anymore. You weren't a girly girl to any extent, you were a smith's daughter, and most of your day was spent around smoldering metal and soot, making you something other than the perfect candidate for a wife. You had never been a girly girl, so the fact that your mother tried to force you into a dress with a bloody corset was insulting enough for you, but now she was going to braid your hair and do your makeup as well? All for this stupid masquerade ball King Thorin had organized to celebrate the third year of Erebor's rebirth.
After a full day of fighting and no matter how hard you dug your heels in, your hair was braided and you had squeezed yourself into the cursed dress, your lips painted red. You huffed as your mother placed the mask over your face, allowing you to shift it so you could see without any issues.
"I still don't understand why I have to go. There is that big order of knives we have to make, and they need to be finished-" You were cut off by your mother's finger on your lips. You met her eyes, stern and you swallowed the rest of the sentence.
"Because I want you to have something other in your life than just your smith's work. I know you don't like going and I know you don't like dressing up, but it's the dress code. And I do wish for some grandchildren, one day." You flushed as red as your dress at her words, taking a backward step towards the door.
"Mother, I am not- There is no one- Why would you even think-" You were baffled, and she gave a small laugh as she tapped your shoulder.
"Don't worry, darling. I just want you to meet someone your age, and dance a little." She sighed as she pushed you towards the door.
"Now go, you'll be late soon." She kissed your cheek with a smile.
"Have fun, darling."
"But not too much fun!" Your father, who had been working in his smith shop for the entirety of the conversation, peeked his head out. You and your mother both rolled your eyes at him as you stepped out the door into the cooling air of the evening.
Even if you had resented coming, the hall looked incredible. Tall tapestries hung from the walls, and thousands of lanterns lit up the area. You spun yourself around slowly, admiring the rich colors spread across all the walls and ceiling. It made you feel so small but so incredibly happy. It was bustling with people dressed in all kinds of colors, the countless reds, yellows, and greens bustling around, the lone blue and purple jackets almost getting lost in the waves of colors all around.
You dared to pick up a glass of bubbling cider from a passing waiter, giving them a kind smile as they passed. It was crisp, the sharp taste of apples hitting your mouth the moment you sipped it, the bubbles tickling your nose. But it was good, really good, and you took a larger sip as you allowed your eyes to roam around the hall. Everyone's face was covered, not counting a selected few. Balin, the king's adviser stood in a darkened corner with his brother, also without a mask. They were probably there to ensure that everything was going smoothly, and to make sure the king was safe. The thought of the king wandering the hall as one of the hidden faces nipped at your stomach with nerves, but you shook the thought away. What were the odds of you actually stepping onto his path?
You finished your glass and gave it to another smiling waiter.
"How do they do it? Smile all the time?" You wondered to yourself, your attention now on the first dancers that were making their way to the dance floor as the band was finishing up tuning their instruments. The first dance of the night was meant to start any minute.
You were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn't notice someone stepping close to you. You were snapped back to reality when they cleared their throat, and you jumped lightly before you turned your attention to them.
"May I have this dance?" His voice was so pleasing, smooth, and deep, and you found yourself nodding before you even realized it. He grasped your hand and led you to the dance floor just as the cellist pulled the first, slow notes off his instrument.
"I should warn you, I have two left feet." You muttered, giving him a small apologetic smile.
"No problem, I will lead."
As you rocked from one side to another with the music, you subtly ran your eyes up and down him, taking in his attire. He was definitely from one of the wealthier families. He wore a mask of pure white, the edges just slightly dusted with gold. His navy blue jacket was made out of some soft fabric, unlike you had ever seen before. The gold buttons were polished, and they were decorated with a symbol. You couldn't see it, the mask limiting your vision, and you couldn't tilt your head down as you feared he would realize you were "inspecting" him.
The whole evening went by in a blur. You had danced until your feet were sore and then some. As you rested your feet, you had talked about everything you could think of, and the conversation had never wavered. You didn't remember a night that you had laughed so much on last time. You had felt at ease for the whole evening, eating and drinking, absolutely cherishing his company. You had introduced yourself by your name, but he had said that he would prefer to keep it to himself until it was time for the reveal. He had said something about "keeping the magic alive" or whatever. You had rolled your eyes and hadn't gotten stuck on the matter, there were so many other things to talk about. For example, to your great surprise, he was quite knowledgeable of smith's work, despite his palpable higher upbringing.
- -
The ball was closing on its end, the last dance had just been danced, and you joined in with the thunderous applause to the band. You turned back to your date, growing nervous. It was time to remove the masks. You gave him a small smile, looking up at the king's advisor who had just climbed onto a table so people would hear him better.
"I would like to thank each and every one of you for this evening." His calm voice rang through the air that was filled with anticipation.
"But I know you didn't come here to listen to an old dwarf chatter." He took a deep breath, announcing with a loud and clear voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please, remove your masks."
You lifted your mask off your face, blinking a few times to let your eyes adjust to the fact that a part of your vision was no longer limited. You turned to your date without giving yourself time to worry over it and just let it happen. But when your eyes met him, you felt like your heart froze.
"King Thorin?"