The King and The Baker

Chapter 11

Ora stood before the gorgeous yellow gown, staring blankly at it as it twinkled back at her. The dress was beautiful, no doubt about that. But the question still haunted her regarding how this dress got to her? Who had given it to her? The king and Dwalin had hinted that they knew about it and were possibly even behind it, but that thought unnerved her somewhat.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit like a doll, and she didn't like it. The king kept telling her what and what she shouldn't do, and when he had told her to wear the dress the previous day her annoyance had prickled slightly. Of course, she was going to wear the dress anyway, but now the king had told her to she found herself not wanting to. But couldn't not. She wouldn't dare.

She let out a loud sigh.

Why was the king so insistent on her anyway? He's giving her more time of day (even though it isn't a lot) than she'd seen him offer any other female before, and he seems to almost care about her, and he's certainly protective over her. But why? If Ora didn't know better she'd think all these acts were advances towards her, but he was the king and that would just be fools talk. Totally absurd.

Slowly, she made her way towards the gown and circled it, wondering how on Middle-Earth she was supposed to put it on.

Eventually she managed it and before leaving for the King's Hall she took one last look at herself. Her usual, unruly curls were somewhat tamed today. Although, if Marg was allowed to help her hair definitely would have look incredible, but, of course, she wasn't telling anyone that she seemed to have a weird relationship with The King Under The Mountain.

Half her hair hung down her back in the typical soft ringlets, whereas the other half was piled (somewhat) neatly into a braided bun towards the back of her head. Her large green eyes sparkled like dewy moss on a spring morning, and her thick, black eyelashes framed them. She pulled a dramatic, exasperated face in the mirror before grabbing her shawl off her bed (her coat would take a few days to be made) and headed towards the door.

Much to her surprise she didn't encounter anyone she knew on her way to the Kings Hall, she was expecting too, after all it would be just her luck to bump into Ava or someone and be pelted with questions. She was on edge though, she could feel people staring at her as she walked past, and once or twice she saw someone whisper and point. She wrapped her arms around herself, hating the attention and wondering what they could be talking about.

She found herself relieved to arrive at the Hall, mainly because it was mostly deserted other than the usual gaggle of desperate Dwarrowdams. Ora spotted Fraugh and tried fruitfully to avoid eye contact, and she walked straight past her and pretended not to notice she was even there. Of course, Fraugh saw her, and Ora could feel the mental daggers The Foul was throwing at her with her eyes.

"Ah! Is this her?" Ora nearly jumped when a large chest appeared in front of her, and she nearly jumped back with a yelp. Instead, she controlled herself and took a subtle step back as she gazed up at the Dwarrowdam before her. Dis was grinning broadly at her, and before she knew what was happening Dis had grabbed her face and head butted her.

Ora yelped and stumbled slightly, but regained composer quickly to find Dis laughing at her.

"Thick skull, I like her already!"

Ora frowned in confusion. Granted, she had a thick skull even for a Dwarf (inherited from her father's side) but she didn't understand Dis' words.

"T-Thank you?" Ora short a glance over Dis' shoulder and towards Thorin, he didn't look over the moon about his sister head butting the blonde Dwarf, and had his usual disapproving scowl on his face.

"Sister, would you mind not crushing her skull? At least wait until after lunch."

Dis just tipped her head back and let out a great, loud, booming laugh. "Oh, brother, we are merely being friendly. After all, we will soon be spending a lot of time together."