Page 2 of Her Orc Blacksmith

“Sor!” she called out, her voice cutting through the din as she waved me over. “Don’t linger in the doorway. Come in.”

“Thyri,” I greeted her with a tired smile, glad to see a friendly face. Following her instructions, I stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind me.

Thyri and I had known each other since we were just schoolgirls, running through the streets of Everwood with ribbons in our hair and dirt on our skirts. We’d spend hours by the river, skipping stones and talking about who we might be one day, back when the idea of the future was still wrapped in the softness of a dream.

When I married Kald, Thyri was by my side, fussing over my dress and making sure my hair was just right. She teased me for choosing the blacksmith's apprentice, saying I was always too practical. But he was kind and sensible, and that was enough for me. We laughed that day, thinking life would just go on like it always had—full of warmth, with Kald at the forge and Thyri sneaking us both rolls from Lady Hargrave’s estate.

But the war came, and life got harder, darker. Kald went off to fight, and suddenly, the streets we used to run through as girls felt colder, and the air, once full of laughter and gossip, grew thick with whispers of loss and fear. Thyri stayed on at the estate, working in the kitchens, while I was left to raise Elias alone.

And now, years later, with everything that had changed, Thyri was still one of the few people who could make me feel like things might be okay. She hadn’t lost her quick smile or her knack for sneaking sweets out of the kitchen. When she called me “Sor” instead of Soraya, like she used to back in school, itwas like, for just a moment, we were those carefree girls again, untouched by war and grief. Almost.

As I settled onto a stool in her corner of the kitchen, I reached into my basket and pulled out the neatly folded apron I’d spent the last evening mending.

“I brought this back for you,” I said, holding it out to her. “I added a little something.”

Thyri unfurled the apron, her eyes lighting up as she noticed the small, embroidered design near the hem—a cluster of tiny flowers in soft colors, delicate but cheerful.

“This is beautiful!” she exclaimed, running her fingers over the stitching. “You didn’t have to do this, but I love it.”

“I thought you might,” I replied, feeling pleased. “You’re always doing things for me and Elias. I wanted to do something for you.”

“Speaking of which, I believe a certain little boy is turning seven today, if I’m not mistaken.” She reached into the deep pocket of her apron and pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle. “I saved these just for him,” she said, pressing it into my hands.

“Thyri, you’re spoiling him,” I teased, shaking my head but taking the gift.

“Nonsense,” she replied, brushing off the comment with a wave of her hand. “Everyone should have sweets on their birthday.”

I unwrapped the cloth just enough to see the rolls inside, golden-brown and still warm, the scent of cinnamon making my mouth water.

“He’s going to love these,” I said, tucking the bundle securely into the basket. “Thank you.”

Thyri leaned against the counter, folding the apron carefully and tucking it into a drawer for safekeeping. “So, how was thefitting with Lady Hargrave? I swear, every time you come down here, you look more exhausted.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “She shorted me again,” I admitted, keeping my voice low so as not to be overheard.

Thyri frowned. “It’s not right, Soraya.”

“I know,” I said, biting back my frustration. “Today’s payment was supposed to go toward getting Elias a set of paints for his birthday. He’s been asking for them for weeks. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Now... it’s just going to be another year without a gift.”

Another year of promises I couldn't keep. He never complained, but I saw the disappointment in his eyes, the way he stopped asking after a while. How much longer before the weight of what I couldn't give him became too heavy for both of us?

“That’s not fair to either of you.” Thyri reached out, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe I can talk to one of the kitchen boys—see if they can carve something for him. It won’t be fancy, but it’ll be something.” That was Thyri, always finding a way, doing whatever she could to make life just a little bit sweeter.

I smiled, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thank you, Thyri. But you don’t need to trouble yourself. We’ll manage.”

Before she could respond, a sudden commotion erupted from the far end of the kitchen. A loudwhooshwas followed by a panicked yelp, and the smell of something burning filled the air. I turned just in time to see a plume of smoke rising from one of the stoves, where an elven kitchen maid—distinguishable by her pointed ears—was frantically waving her hands, trying to extinguish the flames that had erupted from a pot of soup.

“Not again,” Thyri muttered, her brows knitting together in frustration. “That girl and her spells...”

With a quick squeeze of my hand, Thyri rushed over to the stove, barking orders to the other kitchen staff as she grabbed a jar of enchanted salt from the counter. She sprinkled it over the flaming pot, and within seconds, the fire sputtered out, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke and a slightly charred smell behind.

The kitchen erupted into a flurry of activity as the staff hurried to salvage the meal. Thyri, always calm under pressure, took charge, directing everyone with practiced ease.

Not wanting to get in the way, I quietly gathered my basket and slipped out of the kitchen. The lively chatter and clatter faded behind me as I made my way out the back door. The sweet rolls in my basket were better than nothing but still a poor substitute for the gift I’d hoped to bring Elias.

As I stepped out into the late afternoon sun, I steeled myself for the evening ahead—another late night of mending, another year where Elias would go without the gift he truly wanted.I’ve survived worse, I reminded myself. The war had taken so much, but I still had Elias.

And as long as I had him, I’d do whatever I could to keep us moving forward.

---