Summary: You tried to rationalize with yourself that punching a royal was not worth the satisfaction it provided it in your daydreams. The prince, however, continued with his unreasonable demands as you tried to tune him out.
“He’s back again,” a flustered Awaldo rushes to you. Fighting the urge to hurl the hot pan at your annoyance's face, you carefully rest it on the counter. Awaldo gives you a concerned look as you angrily slam the knife in your hand. "Remember y/n, he is a prince. Don’t be too harsh," he says, discreetly hiding all the sharp objects in the vicinity.
You feel the beginning of a headache behind your eyes. It had been a whole month, and much to your dismay, the third son of Crown Prince Feanor, Prince Turcafinwë, had taken an unwelcome interest in your restaurant.
Taking a deep breath, you pause right behind the kitchen door, preparing yourself to face the prince. Finally summoning the courage, you push open the door. "Finally! I’ve been waiting too long. You guys need better service," the prince exclaims, exasperation evident as he sits with his muddy boots on your tables.
Gently sliding his feet off the table, you instead focus on arranging condiments. "My prince," you try to lift the corners of your mouth in a smile, "what can we get you today?" Handing him the menu, you hope he won’t ask for the most bizarre things today.
Much to your usual disappointment, he throws the menu aside and rests his face in his hands, tossing his hair aside. From the corner of your eyes, you see the elleths at the next table giggle and swoon over the flaunting ellon.
“Oh, dearest y/n, serve me something so potent that it gives life even to a dead prey, something as unpredictable as me, a bite of it should make the taster prance like the deer of the wild,” he demands, and you try to rationalize that punching a royal is not worth the satisfaction in your mind. The prince, however, continues with his unreasonable demands as you try to tune him out.
It had been a month of this. Out of nowhere, you had stumbled into this predicament when one of the hunters of Orome had come to drop off some venison. The cursed hunter had brought Prince Turcafinwë along for some reason. As thanks, you fed them lunch, but this turned out to be a significant error as the prince came every day to demand the same treatment as that day.
In fact, things turned drastic when, the next week, he came alone to deliver meat, exclaiming that he preferred a certain type of texture for his roast and that he would provide all the supplies instead of your past partner. “Consider it an honor to be able to cook my catch. Now off you go,” he had almost hit you with the very meat he delivered as he shooed you off.
For hours, he lingered in the same place, bothering you to be the only one serving him. But it did not end there. With him came his extraordinary demands and a bunch of idle elleth and ellon who sat idly admiring him.
You notice that the prince’s rambling has stopped and look at him to find him staring at you. By Mandos! Had he noticed your blank expression? Panicking at the sudden eye contact, you try to bow and return to the kitchen. “Ahh…I see, my prince. Give me a moment,” the sudden voice crack at the end makes it worse.
“Remember, make it yourself. I want no one else making anything for me,” of course, you expected this weird condition. You nod at him and start walking towards the kitchen. Awaldo is just as good, if not better than you. There had been one time when you were busy, and your coworker had made his order, and that day could’ve been the day you got the chance to visit Tirion’s prison. Your dearest customer had whined dramatically at a perfectly delicious meal. All of Prince Turcafinwë’s antics had disrupted the whole place, baring all else from their food until he was served by you. Your cutlery seemed sharper than normal days that fateful day.
“How did it go? I hope you didn’t commit treason outside?” you huff at your amused partner who continues to work on his end of the fire.
You ignore the obvious jabs as a picture of revenge presents in your mind. Assembling the ingredients for a light sandwich, you resist the urge to seem too eager. “Ai, nilde, you’re scaring me with that expression,” Awaldo shuffles away with his order ready. Seeing your only chance, you quickly grab the freshly arrived batch of red peppers.
The prince would surely get a dish that makes the person eating it prance like a deer, a dish that represented him perfectly. A distant part of your mind wonders if you had lost hope for peaceful co-existence. You steel your resolve and add the peppers to the sandwich, or add the sandwich to peppers. With great difficulty, you suppress the laugh that rises in your throat.
Re-entering the kitchen, Awaldo gives you a worried look as you pass him on your way to deliver your masterpiece. The unsuspecting prince perks up, looking at the arrival of his food. For a second, you doubt your plan. Cooking is a revered activity to you. Food that brings joy to others’ faces makes you happy… you shake your head. No, this needs to be done.
“Here you go, my prince,” with a flourish, you put the innocent-looking sandwich on the table. Drumming his fingers on the table with childlike excitement, Prince Turcafinwë gets ready to eat. You wait for maybe ages before he finishes inspecting the sandwich and gently holds it to take a bite. Just one bite, and it would ensure your peace.
Your eyes are fixed on his hands and mouth as he inches closer to the sandwich. You prepare to shove the glass of water his way right after the first taste. Just as he takes his bite, you prepare your ears for expected damage, but it never comes.
“Mmm, it’s delicious as always,” your heart stops when he goes for another bite without a wince. Just as he is about to take another bite, out of a stupid instinct, your hand stops his wrist. “You shouldn’t,” you whisper.
Looking closely now, you can see slight redness in his eyes. Yet, Turcafinwë just smiles as he takes another bite and finishes the whole thing in two others. He does all this while your hand still holds his wrist.
Your world stops when he turns his wrist and grabs your hand in a smooth motion. “Oh, mele, how could I ever not finish the food you made,” with a wink, he kisses the back of your hand. You feel the tingle of pepper on your hand as he walks away with a promise to come back tomorrow.
After finishing part 5 I get the hype, here’s Risotto
Honestly really happy with the way this turned out, I felt like I really was able to become immersed in the process and am getting the hang of procreate
Fili and Kili on the lead and rhythm guitar. They are actually the ones started the band in the first place. Just for fun. As a school band (?)
They decided Thorin’s voice is too good to let it waste so they dragged him in and made him vocal. They still do backing vocals on certain songs. Once Thorin joined, the band thing quickly became pretty serious and more people were involved. But I think Fili and Kili were glad that their uncle took control cause then they can be a bit reckless and just enjoy the music and trip, be the young ones. (They will definitely share a room at the hotel and crash it. Jumping up and down on the bed…
Fili has a huge collection of guitars and other instruments. And yes, why wouldn’t he have a axe-shaped guitar? (Now I kind of want to see teenage Fili teaching Kili how to play guitar…
Kili: *stage dived cause he (at least thinks he) saw Tauriel in the crowd*
