LOTR/Hobbit Imagines

Éomer - Lost in Translation

Éomer x reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: mentions of certain body parts and a bad ending

A/N: Wow! Not a Legolas fic? You're as surprised as I am :)
This is just a silly fic I wrote a while ago for another fandom, and I kept thinking how this would be perfect for Éomer. Slightly AU.

Words in bold are in Elvish.

"Come on, Y/N, hurry up. There's not much time left!"

You shuffled right behind your friend, muttering profanities and cursing your inability to say no to her. She could've carried a few things herself instead of making you drag it all alone. You weren't her slave. Although you probably were at this point.

When you entered the kitchen of the castle, you put down all the baskets your friend had made you carry. Before you could say anything, they were already gone, doing who knows what.

How did you let them trick you into coming along, you thought, shaking your head in annoyance.

Your friend worked in the kitchens of the castle of Rohan, and was in charge of organizing the grand feasts and balls King Théoden held.
This morning she had visited you, in the middle of a nervous breakdown because her kitchen staff was sick. You knew there was supposed to be a big ball tonight and now she was left to handle it alone.

You genuinely felt bad for her and really wanted to help, so you made the mistake to ask her what you could do. And that's how you ended up as her kitchen maid for the evening. No, scratch that. Kitchen slave.

*

Two hours later everything was ready for the guests to arrive. The food in the kitchen was ready, the tables in the ballroom were set up and the ale and wine were stocked.

You were wearing a plain dark green dress and your black flats. You had tried to keep your braided hair up with the few hair pins you had. It wasn't your best shot at a decent hairdo, but it would have to do. It's not like you really knew the people that were coming tonight. This was a feast for the upper class, and you were definitely not a part of that.

The guests started to arrive and you anxiously waited in the kitchen with your friend, waiting for her signal to start and walk around with the food.

This was the part you dreaded the most. You weren't the social type, and to be thrown out there in public, asking strangers if they wanted something to eat was a step too far.

But you had promised your friend to help her out and you weren't the one to break a promise. Besides, you would get back at her eventually. She owed you big time after this.

*

You felt your feet aching when you put down the empty serving plate on the giant table in the center of the kitchen. All the appetizers were served and you were desperate for a break.

You put your hands on the table and leaned forward, trying to remove the pressure of your feet. If you would allow yourself to sit down, you probably wouldn't be able to get back up again. It's not like you were being overdramatic - okay, maybe a little bit - but you weren't used to standing on your feet for this long. Why was this a good idea again?

Your friend looked at you sympathetically, but noticed something different.

"Okay, who caught your eye?"

You looked at her questioningly, shrugging your shoulders.
"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Y/N, come on! You're blushing!"