Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit One Shots and Imagines

Balin- For The Kids (a)

Balin sat at the long table, a tankard of ale in his left hand and a large fork in his right. In front of him sat a small feast. Legs of lamb, bowls of soup and loafs of dense bread adorned the table. He looked up from his meal and warmly smiled in your direction.

"Aahh, Y/N... come, come. Join me, the others have gone out hunting..." he waved his hands around as if to dismiss the very thought of it. "Anyway, how is my favourite daughter and how are my favourite grandchildren doing?"

You sat on the cold, wooden bench opposite Balin, ripping off a piece of the bread and dunking it into one of the many bowls of meaty broth.

"Your favourite daughter is okay but your favourite grandchildren not so much."

His head shot up and he rammed his fork into the hunk of ham that rested on his right.

"What's wrong with em?"

"Well dad, it's just not really... festive here in Erebor. The season is fast approaching but the dusty halls are as dark and gloomy as they are all year round. They look out at the humans and see the dancing and the lights. They hear the cheering and the songs and it makes them upset."

"Oh... I see." He looked down and twiddled his thumbs around each other. "I guess this place is a bit..." He looked around at the numerous empty corridors, cobweb ridden doorways and reeled back to look at the small cloud of mist that formed as he spoke. "It's just Christmas isn't really a... dwarf thing."

"We could... uuuhhh scatter some holly around or get Dis to bake something cheerful?" He shrugged and let a sheepish smile spread across his face.

"I don't think that's quite... good enough, how do you feel about... dressing up?"

He looked shocked and befuddled. "Now Y/N I don't care what you or the grandkids do, but I am not into that kind of thing, nor have I ever been."

"No dad... not that kind of dressing up. Actually, you already kind of look like him. The hair, the beard, give you a red tunic and you're there."

"Y/N..."

"Please dad, it will make the kids year, you don't have to do it for long. A few hours maximum."

"A FEW HOURS?" He shouted out, you leant across the table to hold his mouth shut.

"Ssshhh, I want it to be a surprise for the kids, now don't go telling em."

"Fine, I'll do it... but I'd better find a new pair of slippers under my bed this year."

~*~

Written by Aaron.