The King and The Baker

Chapter 17

Ora was fidgeting nervously where she stood.

"Do we have to be here?" She muttered to Ava, not letting her eyes leave the archway that led to the King's Hall. It was the day after she'd cleaned the king's study, and now she was definitely regretting her decision to do so. What had she been thinking?

And now, she was scared the king himself would come waltzing out of the hall at any moment and see her pinned up against the stone wall.

Ava shot her a frown of confusion. "What's got your skirts in a fuss?"

Ora bit her cheek, "Nothing. Just... Do we have to stand here?"

Marg and Ava exchanged a look, but said no more and moved along a bit, just far enough for Ora to dip into a nearby corridor, and out of sight. Her heart was racing in her chest, just the thought of being so close to the king made her stomach swirl and her head spin. What was wrong with her?

"Are you sure you're all right, Ora?" Marg asked, peering at her, "You look awfully peaky." She reached towards the blonde's face, ready to rest the back of her hand on Ora's heated face. But Ora ducked away.

"I'm fine."

Marg and Ava did not look convinced.

.

.

.

Ora was ambushed later that very day. Only by her friends, of course, but she was ambushed none the less.

She was rolling out some pastry one minute, and then the next someone had snuck up behind her and clamped their hand over her mouth to silence any noise of surprise that may escape her.

"Stop it!" She shouted against the hand as she was pushed backwards into a chair, finally being able to glare up at her three friends who stood before her, all with their hands on their hips and all looking equally unimpressed. Even Ava's expression was stern, which was highly uncharacteristic.

"This is all a little over dramatic, don't you think? Even for you lot." She made a move to stand, but with strength she had no idea Marg possessed she was pushed back down into the little kitchen chair.

"Spit it out." Marg commanded lowly, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at Ora as if she was some sort of misbehaving child.

Ora raised her brow, "Spit what out? Seriously, I ought to get back to work." She tried to stand once more, but Ava blocked her.

"Enough of the secrets now, Ora, what's going on? I've known you more than a hundred years, don't you think that if something was wrong I'd notice?"

Ora frowned, "No, because clearly you are very much mistaken."

Ava rolled her eyes, "We have a theory."

"This will be interesting." Ora commented, unimpressed and taking her seat again with her own will, sitting back as if she was about to watch some sort of production. "Please," She gestured for them to continue, "Humour me. Enlighten me with your knowledge."

"Colborn."

Ora snorted in response before she could stop herself.

"Okay, maybe our theory is wrong then." Ava rubbed the back of her neck.

"Those rumours." Tried Marg, and Ora showed nothing in response. "That's a yes!"

"No, that's a no." Ava said, peering at Ora's indifferent expression. "Hot or cold?"

"I'm not playing games, Ava."

"Is it about Dwalin?"

Ora pulled a face, "Why in the name of Durin would it be about Dwalin?"