The King and The Baker

Chapter 12

Ora finished work the following day as quickly as she could, quite literally knocking her grandmother over as she left in a whirlwind of excitement to get to the forge.

Once she arrived, she waited not so patiently by the entrance, bobbing on the balls of her feet like a restless child and grinning happily at everyone who looked her way. She could have squealed when she saw Thorin round the corner, even when Dwalin came into view at his side. Ora tried to forget that she had a bone to pick with Dwalin about all his sudden appearances and nose in her business, right now she was far too excited to let her ego get in the way.

"Good afternoon!" She greeted excitedly, giving her best curtsy.

"Someone's been practising their curtsy." Dwalin said as they approached in his usual tone, although, if Ora wasn't mistaken there was a small smile on his lips.

Ora's face reddened, "Oh, aye, maybe." Her gaze flickered to Thorin for a moment, "Erm, I thought it would only be proper." Admittedly, she'd spend her entire evening the night before in front of the mirror practicing, although she fell over a few more times than she probably should have, but she thought it would be wise of her to learn who to actually formally greet those of higher status. Especially with Durin's day on the horizon.

Thorin didn't say a word as they entered the forge, despite Ora's many questions. She couldn't help but feel a strange pulling sensation in her chest when he wouldn't even acknowledge her. If it wasn't for Dwalin, she feared her questions would have fallen on deaf ears and be left answered, so, as you could imagine, when Dwalin excused himself to go talk to one of the other forge workers, Ora panicked a little.

She turned to Thorin, just as he was pulling off his heavy, fur coat by one of the stone tables.

The forge was huge, as one would expect, it had to be if it was to be the home of artillery and metal wielding for the entire kingdom. It was set well into the ground beneath the mountain, all tables surrounding large, steal furnaces and staggered up to many levels, with networks of large tunnels running off the main room, each leading to more furnaces or workshops. At the moment, Ora and Thorin were just off the main chamber a little way from the main furnaces, however, there were smaller ones dotted around them, for those working on their own projects and not wanting to be disturbed.

"What are we going to make?" Ora grinned happily, coming to rest her hands on the stone table and lean forward, grinning brightly. "A sword, an arrowed head – oh! – an axe?"

Thorin slowly laid his coat down on the far side of the table, taking his time to respond. "A bolt."

"A... A what?"

"A bolt.

Sensing Ora's deflation of excitement Thorin fully turned to her, although, she could help but notice he was avoiding her eye contact. Again, the pulling in her chest started all over again and she certainly felt her mood plummet at the idea that he didn't actually want to be there with her, more so than the anti-climax of what she was going to make was. But, why would he agree to teach her if he didn't want to?

By now, Thorin had given her the impression that if he thought something, he'd just say it with no fear of the consequences, but, as he stood before her, looking totally peeved she couldn't help but shy away from him. She hadn't realised until now, but she'd let herself open up to him, but now she could literally feel her emotional doors slowly close.

"Do you have any idea how to forge?" He asked her in a stern tone that she wasn't used to him taking with her.

"No..."

"Well then," He replied, taking a solid step towards her. And then his tone changed, and he spoke softly as if he regret his previous tone, "you'll just have to start small."