A Blacksmith and Her Prince // Technoblade x Reader

The Kings Festival

[Before we begin, the reader consistently goes by She/Her. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read or switch the pronouns up to your liking (be warned there are a lot of feminine scenes 🤍) Also, I'm no writer by any means, this story was actually just suppose to be for myself haha. In any case, I hope you enjoy.] ~Emily

The village was always busy during this time of year. It seemed as though thousands of people would come from all over the land just to get a smidge of this place, even if that meant traveling days on end. Who could blame them after all, it is the Kings Festival.

Ahh... The Kings Festival. It was truly a magnificent sight to behold, even better to be a part of. Luckily for you, your family's workshop is centered right on the main crescent. Bustles of travelers would enter your workshop throughout the event, buying all sorts of weaponry. Whether it be swords, shields, axes or even simple knives. You of course, were the future owner of one of the best blacksmiths in town. In fact, one of the only blacksmiths in town. You see, your father has quite a reputation, he could chase out any other "blacksmith wanna be" with just a simple look. Although, it's not like you made the weaponry any different than the others could have.

Yet, your father insisted that it was better than anyone could accomplish. He always had a fiery passion for creating metal works of art, sadly that fire only grew after your mothers passing. Since then, he only ever made weapons that were truly the best they could be. It was almost like there was a type of power etched into the sword itself, making any wielder the strongest they ever were.

That passion was passed down to you, not only were you good at creating literal murder items, but you also happen to be the first female blacksmith. That didn't make you feel any less worthy though, in fact, it made you stronger. I mean, would you seriously rather be wearing those prissy expensive dresses, always having to be perfect in everything you do and say. I guess that's why you loved welding so much, the freedom and choice it gives. To be able to bend and create anything your mind sets to, it was like magic.

Unfortunately, today was the day before the festival, it was very very busy...

"I asked for a perfect dagger, what the hell is this!?" A man with a very obvious bald spot and quite an awful nose, was shoving one of your amazing knives right in your face, waving it around rudely. This was the knife you created just a couple hours ago, the man paid extra for it to be done swiftly. There was nothing wrong with it obviously, but he was not stopping any time soon.

"Sir, if you would please stop trying to kill me by waving it around, that would be nice." You stand there behind the counter, annoyed by his childish actions.

"Damn woman, don't you understand the festival is tomorrow. I asked for the most perfect dagger you had and this is what you give me!?" His voice was growing more gruff and angrier by the second. You did not care of course, but that still doesn't give him the right to speak to you that way.

"Well I'm sorry sir," you cross your arms. "But, if this isn't up to your satisfaction, I will gladly take it off your hands." Some might say the customer is always right, but your fathers saying is "no refunds". He knew they were perfect after all, a few loose customers wouldn't bother him.

The man scoffs and pulls his arm away.

"Whatever, just know if my daughter doesn't get picked, it's your fault." Baldy stormed out from the open viewed shop, walking back amongst the wandering crowd.

His back faded into the cluster of people as you let out a scoffish laugh.

"Daughter aye.." You talk to yourself, mocking his threat. He probably wanted his daughter to be picked out for the Prince himself, it was just a rumour though surely. Many people would come into the shop and speak of it, go on and on about the possibilities of their precious child being the chosen one.

Yeah, chosen for life imprisonment.

Well, apparently the most perfect of perfect women would be chosen to be the Prince's bride. To you it seemed like total bullshit, but people came in anyway. Most asked for very extravagant items, spears and katanas or colourful shields. Just stuff used to show off, show off what even? Where do you find any personality in that, the King must be desperate. That's what you thought at least, if the rumour was really true.

The Prince must be bad in bed.

Laughing at your comment, you head in the back to get to work.

The blacksmith was built so it would have an open air plan to it, there were no physical doors more just doorways. It made it a lot easier to carry stuff in and out, especially since that stuff was literal giant moulds of metal. You could handle it though, no amount of brutality could get you to stop working.

Work, work, work that's all you ever did, that's all you ever enjoyed. You had no time for other miscellaneous things such as going out or shopping, participating in the popular event, seeing the King and Prince or even having a friend. I mean, of course you have friends, everyone who comes into the shop is your friend right? Right...?

Yeah, that definitely sounds right.

You didn't even have time to celebrate your nineteenth birthday. Well, at least your father was nice enough to give you a metallic necklace. It curved around your neck beautifully, it was the only present anyone has ever given you. It was very much cherishable.

Anyway, there's no time to be thinking of that. So many orders to fill in, so many jobs to do. Father will be coming back to the shop soon, so you best at least look like you're doing something.