Short Stories and Drabbles

Ash & Phoenix Remix (Cause I love Ze Fili)

She would always remember that walk.

Down the long, narrow corridor toward the door at the end. Ash always said it made him feel like he was heading to his own execution. The room was located deep underground, brick walls rising up on both sides and overhead. Water always seemed to be leaking through the cracks, running in rivulets down the broken stone.

Ash always wondered where it came from.

She had never cared.

The floor had never been paved and bore deep grooves in the loose dirt. Drag marks from the countless who'd been brought to the room against their will

She passed by a lit torch set in the wall. Ash said it was needless theater and, on that point, she tended to agree. They could just as easily have had electricity but Smaug had a tendency toward the melodramatic.

She reached the door. In contrast to the rest of the hall it was simple, metal with a simple keyhole and a small window with a grate over it.

She didn't bother looking in. She'd been through the routine so many times it no longer registered. She couldn't remember half the faces she'd seen in that room. They were simply jobs, ways to make her stronger, more capable.

More feared.

She slid a key into the lock and turned it. The sound of the tumblers turning echoed in the hall as they released.

She grabbed the door and shoved, suppressing a wince as it screeched and grated its way open.

She stepped through...and the foundations of her world trembled.

Bilba scowled critically at the iced rose border she'd just spent an inordinate amount of time piping.

The last rose didn't look right, she decided.

She started to reach for the scraper, planning to remove the entire thing and start over, again, only to stop as the cake was suddenly lifted away from her.

"It looks beautiful, Bilba," Bombur said patiently, more than used to her perfectionism. He regularly kept an eye on her, knowing if he didn't she'd spend the entire day on a single cake or pastry insisting on every square inch being flawless. "Why don't you take your lunch now?"

Bilba glanced at the clock in surprise. She hadn't realized so much time had passed. "Alright."

She stood up and took the cake back from Bombur, carefully walking it over to place in the walk in freezer where it would remain until the client came to collect it.

After that she headed out to the front of the store, passing the low metal tables and rows of ovens, stoves and other cooking equipment. It had been a slow day and Bombur had sent several employees home. Usually the kitchen was a cacophony of voices, clattering pans and bodies rushing in a closely choreographed dance as they fought to keep the front of the store stocked without creating a disaster in the back.

Now it was mostly empty, only Bombur, her and a few others working on decorating cakes or checking on desserts in the stove.

Bilba pushed the swinging door and stepped out into the front, relaxing as she took in the empty tables and chairs. Bombur had designed the small bakery to be simple. The front wall was all windows allowing a view to the street outside and the sun to shine in and brighten the room. Tables and chairs were scattered on the beige tiled floor and the walls were decorated with simple landscape paintings. Even the showcase were simple metal ones with glass coverings. Bombur wanted his shop to be seen as a break from the hectic pace of life, a brief pause for people to sit down and relax.