In the weeks running up to Muhudtuzakhmerag, or The Blessed Green Fest, Ora found herself getting more and more excited. Spring was her second favourite time of year (second to Autumn – she just loved the golden leaves and the fresh, crisp mornings), with The Blessed Green Fest being in close competition with Lomil Zatamaradu, or 'The Night of the Kill', a time of remembrance for those who have fought and died, and of remembrance of their past lives and how far they have come.
There were many times when she would wander into Thorin's quarters just to peak out the large window that ran along one of the outer walls in the main room just to watch the snow slowly melt away. The King had caught her twice doing it, but each time he hadn't minded.
On the second time he'd caught her, she was actually outside on the balcony, wrapped up tightly in her coat and staring out over the lake.
"I was being serious when I said I didn't want you going near the water." He told her, coming up to stand next to her. Resting one hand on the low balcony wall and the other over hers as it sat on the cold stone.
Ora opened her mouth to object, but Thorin beat her to it, "But," He continued, eyeing her up suspiciously, "Knowing you, if I told you I didn't want you doing something, you will undoubtedly do it. So, if you insist upon it, I would greatly appreciate it if you took a guard with you."
Ora stared at him, "Wow, I didn't realise you could be reasonable." She grinned at him when his expression soured, "Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy, irrational Thorin?"
"Don't push me." He growled at her.
Ora squeezed his hand, "I will gladly take a guard with me, as you asked so nicely."
"I didn't ask," He told her, turning his gaze back out to the lake, "I just told you I'd appreciate it. If you said no I would still send a guard."
Ora scoffed, "See, why ruin a beautiful moment?" She began, "For a moment there I thought we'd actually made headway in our relationship."
Thorin smirked a little from under his beard and turned his attention back to Ora, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. "Thank you." He said warmly, eyes sparkling with relief and amusement.
"Don't get all sweet and affectionate on me just because you got your way." Ora scolded, folding her arms over her chest and pouting like a child when Thorin stepped towards her, wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling her into him. "No." She told Thorin when he leant down and kissed her cheek, his rough beard scratching at Ora's soft skin. "Nope." When he left a chaste kiss on her temple. "Nah." When he kissed her nose, and finally, "Don't even think about it." Just before he kissed her lips.
It still amazed her, that after all these months, she still got those butterflies in her stomach the same way she did on their first kiss.
.
Uli had finally recovered, but there was yet to be any painful sign of a miscarriage, and as Ora sat by her bedside side one evening with Ava, munching on a cream tart, she couldn't help but think about the question.
But, luckily, Ava was having the exact same thought, "Do you think the babes still alive?"
All right, so maybe Ora would have worded it a little differently, maybe even a little less brash, but that was essentially what she was going to ask.
Uli paused, glancing up from the book she was reading and eyeing Ava up, "I have no idea. I'm getting bigger," She ran a hand affectionately over her belly, "But I've had no signs of life..."
"Surely if you're getting bigger that's a huge giveaway?" Ora questioned comfortingly, offering Uli a small, yet what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
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YOU ARE READING
The King and The Baker
Romance(Set after the Battle of Five Armies) Dwarves flock back to Erebor in full force, excited about their new home. Thorin Oakenshield was King Under the Mountain and although he'd never planned to take a wife many eager, haughty Dwarrowdams pursued him...