#anyway dawn of the final day i have my own critiques but genuinely this series was written for the unhinged prequel girlies

[bereft-of-frogs]

so another way you can tell that the Obi-Wan Kenobi series was written for the unhinged prequel stan girlies...

…*gestures at self*...

...is I have a second…a second fic, that I can, if so inclined, change the tags on to take it from a complete 100% Canon Divergence ‘there’s absolutely no way Disney Lucasfilm would ever go there, this is way beyond what they’d ever do onscreen/Graphic Violence Warning’...to a ‘Canon-typical Violence’ tag. 

Because when I wrote ‘until the night turns’, I really was like...this is super beyond the pale, there’s no way Disney would show even a hint of explicit torture of a 12 year old. and low and behold here we are, back on Nur, with a 10 year old this time. Amazing. thank you Deborah Chow

*my logic also being, I know we see some pretty graphic flashbacks of Trilla in the torture chamber, but without looking up intended canonical age differences, Trilla always seemed like she had a couple years on Cal. Like she just seemed like she was at least 16 or so in those flashbacks, versus Cal being 12 and it seeming absolutely obscene that the Empire would torture a 12 year old like that.

WELL. I stand CORRECTED.

[artificialqueens]

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 10/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: The three finalists are just three challenges away from the end of the Bake Off, and the reunion with their fellow competitors, families, and friends at the finale garden party. The Signature and Technicals will be the hardest yet, and the Showstopper will ensure the three finalists bare a slice of their hearts to the country. But who will take the winning cake stand?

A/N: I have been utterly blown away by the support and comments I’ve had for this fic on tumblr and AO3! Huge big thank you to everyone who has cheered me on with this. For ease, the finale and epilogue are in one here (but are split on AO3). I hope to be back soon with some short stuff for rare pair challenge! xo Juno

WEEK 10: GRAND FINALE

Aurora felt like she didn’t sleep all week back in Worksop, and now, the night before she had to take the train down south to film the grand finale, the very idea seemed virtually impossible. Her body and her mind tossed and turned, every time she closed her eyes she saw cakes and breads and pastries and all sorts of things she was sure she’d never have any desire to eat again.

She had no time to think about Tayce, but Tayce had found her way in through the cracks in her mind while she had practised. Gone from the tent, but not gone from her life. And her last act in the tent had been to give Aurora five words that had rung like a melody in her head ever since.

You can win this, bitch.

She reached for her phone in the darkness, and it said it was half past one in the morning. She’d have to get up in three hours to get ready, before she headed out for the train. Lawrence would already be on the sleeper train, and Veronica was probably getting up at around the same time. But as she opened their own three-way chat, she found both Lawrence and Veronica were also messaging at silly time in the morning.

They weren’t sleeping either. Aurora understood why now.

Sure, she’d see Tayce again this weekend at the grand finale garden party. But her departure still replayed in her head.

Why did I end up this reliant on her anyway? I can bake without her. I’ve done it for years!

But this wasn’t just baking. It wasBake Off. It was surreal, intangible. It defied gravity. How many times had Aurora had to anchor herself to Tayce to keep herself from floating away?

Her phone came up with a notification from Lawrence.

Lawrence:why tf ru awake

The irony of Lawrence’s message was not lost on Aurora.

Aurora:your meant to be on the sleeper train Aurora: sleeper Aurora: clue is in the name Lawrence: yh but its stopped Lawrence: we’re in carlisle  Aurora: what’s it like in Carlisle x Lawrence: dark

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it tickled her far more than it should, and she found herself laughing far too hard at the message.

Aurora: how much ru lookin forward to this bein over now x Lawrence: oh loads babes Lawrence: cant wait to bring that cake stand to Glasgow x Veronica:keep dreaming Lawrence  Aurora: unlikely lol x

On second thoughts, the teasing and the laughter were a balm for her worried mind right now, and Aurora found she was laughing more than she had all week at their conversation.

Sleep is overrated anyway.

——

The tent looked huge and imposing, but Aurora was still not at the front to her relief. If Lawrence had gone home last week - not that Aurora had ever expected her to - Aurora thought she would have squirmed at the front under the gaze of the judges. Especially now, with just the three of them left, their voices echoing like a vast cave, all of their heartbeats just sounding amplified as they hammered against their ribs.

It’s the finale. I made it.

Aurora glanced at the two badges she’d won. The same amount as Lawrence, with Veronica having one to her name. But as they’d seen from previous series, the amount of times someone had won Star Baker was not an indicator as to who would win the whole thing. But it certainly gave both her and Lawrence a minor edge, and both of them a swell in their chests.

Everything felt new and fresh. Lawrence had re-dyed her hair, blue this time, the vibrant colour almost a distraction in itself. Veronica had new black nails which she tapped on the workbench, and her roots had been redone. Aurora hadn’t thought to do any of that, so she was pleased to still be at the back.

Her turquoise KitchenAid still glistened like new, the workbench sparkled with the glassy varnish, and the cupboards and shelves around in their pastel colours made the summer air feel all the more fresh and clean. She glanced over at Veronica, her own green KitchenAid in the same state, and Lawrence’s Cadbury purple one too.

I wonder if I can pinch the KitchenAid after filming without the crew noticing.

——

Signature: 12 iced doughnuts - 6 ring, 6 filled

If there was one thing Aurora hated doing, it was piping filling into something as fiddly as a doughnut. They’d have to cool down, be hollowed, and then filled, a really fiddly process.

It was the hardest day in the tent by far. The morning was rainy, light rain that almost felt like it wasn’t there, and the air was sticky and humid, pushing the temperature in the tent up, especially with the deep fat fryers they’d been provided for the doughnuts.

Aurora chewed her lip so hard that it bled, piping mixture, watching them all closely in the deep fat fryer, filling up her jam piping bag and spinning it so tightly that it threatened to burst and cover her in sticky apricot jam.

In front of her, Lawrence groaned a few times as she battled against the heat and the doughnuts as they spat in the fryer, while Veronica was wringing her hands at the dough as it came out of her own fryer.

“Too soft,” she muttered, followed by “God, too hard,” at the next batch.

By the time judging came, with Prue back from her illness this week, Aurora had almost forgotten what she’d flavoured them with, but she wasn’t alone. Across from her, Veronica stuttered as she spoke about her doughnuts, while Lawrence just pushed her hair back at the question.

“Don’t know,” she’d mused to the judges, some of the old humour returning to her voice. “Started making them, had a breakdown, and here they are. Enjoy!”

The judges all laughed, but Aurora caught a glint in Lawrence’s eye, and the same thought passed between them both.

It’s not a lie!

All of them had similar critiques. Unanimously told they had good flavours, good bakes, and good designs, it was becoming virtually impossible to differentiate between them. How were they going to decide a winner?

“How are they going to do this?” Veronica said aloud to the room, as they sat in Norton Hall (not Carr Hall, Aurora said to herself) waiting for the Technical challenge to begin.

“Not a fucking clue.” Lawrence sighed.

“Are any of you thinking about today though?” Aurora asked. “Are you just thinking about the Showstopper tomorrow too?”

Lawrence and Veronica both nodded slowly, none of them looking at each other.

“Are you all … doing the same thing as I am?”

Lawrence and Veronica just continued nodding.

None of them even needed to say a word. They all knew.

——

Technical: Victoria Sponge (no recipe)

Technical sounded daunting at first glance, but Aurora tried to reason with her worried mind. Baking a Vicky sponge from scratch with no instructions? Please. Aurora baked a Vicky sponge twice a month for the local shelter. She could probably have done it in her sleep.

But the pressure cooker of the tent just made everything go up in smoke in her brain.

Her nan’s voice rang in her head for the proportions that she used to use. Two, two, two, and two eggs. But two what? Two cake tins? Two bowls? Two competitors? No, two pounds. When would her nan come into the new millennium and learn that no one talked about measurements in pounds and ounces any more?

“Lawrence?” She leaned forward.

“Alright, babes?”

“How much is two pounds in grams again?”

Lawrence was frowning. “What?”

“Please - just tell me. I know it’s a competition and all -“

“I’m not trying to stitch you up hen, I genuinely don’t know, I don’t use pounds and ounces because I entered the twenty-first century a while back.” Lawrence shook her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “What do you need it for anyway?”

“Recipe,” Aurora said, her already-hammering heart feeling like it could break her ribs.

“What’s up, love?” That was Veronica’s voice. Aurora closed her eyes, wracking her brain, but Lawrence’s voice pierced the gloom.

“How much is a pound in grams, d’you know?”

“Yeah,” came Veronica’s in response, “a pound is about four hundred and fifty grams. Y’know, you can also go the other way. A kilo is two point two pounds. What do you need that for, yours is already whisking?”

“No, Rory’s having a meltdown, and not with the butter.”

Jesus Dawn French Christ, Lawrence.

A hand met her shoulder, and Aurora was astonished to see Veronica at her side.

“You alright, love?”

She held her gaze for a long time, unflinching, but her eyes were softer than ever, and her hand was surprisingly warm and calming as she rubbed Aurora’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just - this,” Aurora waved her hands, encompassing the whole tent. Maybe that was absurd to an outside observer, but Veronica knew. Veronica understood.

“I looked at your instagram,” Veronica said quietly, “and I know you bake cakes loads, so I know you can knock this one right out of the park, alright? And you know that too. I mean, I can’t remember a thing about making jam now! And I’m probably going overboard with my sugar. But hey, it’s the finale! I can’t be sent home now!”

Veronica shrugged, her face split in a grin that bordered on maniacal, and Aurora had to admit that she had a point. She took a shaky inhale, then let it out.

“Look, I know you miss Tayce,” Veronica dropped her voice even lower, her hand squeezing her shoulder now, “because I’ve missed Tia since alt week. And we know Lawrence is missing Ellie, even though she’d probably rather move to London and take up Morris dancing than admit that.”

“You say that, but I can do that accent, I’ve watched Eastenders,” Lawrence called over her shoulder. “And I won’t be any worse than Dick Van Dyke.”

“We’re all missing everyone,” Veronica said, and Aurora knew she didn’t mean everyone, “but you don’t need Tayce to be able to bake. You can do it on your own. You’ve done it loads before this show, and you’ll do it again!”

“I can’t,” Aurora heard her fear contradict her in a whisper.

“You can,” Veronica said firmly, her gaze now stern. “You can do this.”

Aurora took a deep breath, held for four, and let it out for five.

“I can.”

“That’s it, love,” Veronica said, nodding and starting to walk away.

——

“Here’s to the last time we’re here as a three,” Aurora said, raising her glass along with Lawrence and Veronica. One of the producers had brought in a bottle of champagne, and even though Aurora didn’t really like the bubbles very much - they tickled her nose - she accepted the glass that was poured for her.

“How much does everyone remember about today?” Veronica asked, her arms and legs crossed on the sofa. “Because I can’t remember a bloody thing. I can’t even remember what the judges said about that piece of crap that my Vicky sponge turned out to be. Did I come last?”

“Yeah,” Aurora nodded. “Was nothing in it, though. We were all shit.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Lawrence muttered, a hint of her old mischievous glint back in her eye.

“And tomorrow we’re recording the finale,” Aurora sighed, swirling the champagne. “Five hours in a tent, followed by half an hour break, followed by presenting the Showstoppers, followed by the garden party, followed by our speeches. And then filming three endings. Where one of us wins each time.”

“It’s gonna be worth it by the end, though,” Veronica said brightly.

“Who’s gonna come from your family, Lawrence?” Aurora asked.

“My parents, my cousin Chloe, and my best pal Stinky Pete.” Lawrence grinned. “Can’t wait to see them. And who have you two got?”

“Uhm,” Aurora frowned. “I know Blake’s coming, and my nan, but I thought you could only invite two people?”

“Mine said four,” Lawrence replied. “God, you really can’t count, can you?”

“What about you?” Aurora asked, motioning to Veronica with her glass.

“My mum’s coming and my brother.” She twitched her shoulders. “None of my friends could get time off. Shame, really.”

Aurora nodded, sipping her champagne, trying to hold off on sneezing through the bubbles. “And the others.”

“Can’t wait,” Veronica smiled her usual pinched, nervous smile, her leg jogging. “I’ve missed them all. Tia especially, but I’ve missed them all. I wonder who they all think will win?”

“And Ellie still owes me a tenner for that Puff the Magic Dragon shit that she thought Tayce’s biccies were,” Lawrence mused.

Aurora pursed her lips at Tayce’s name, but pushed it to the back of her mind. What mattered now was not Tayce, but the fact that her eyes were drooping after not having slept the previous night, and the champagne making her head throb.

“Early one?” Veronica’s sigh must have read been a telepathic projection, because they all stood in unison and trailed each other up the stairs to their respective rooms, ready to pass out and begin everything again in the morning.

——

Showstopper: A picnic for a fellow contestant - to include one celebration cake, 12 savoury pastries, and 12 patisserie.

When the three of them had seen the Showstopper for the weekend, right after Tayce’s elimination, they’d all nodded knowingly to each other.

This one has been just …made for us all.

It was obvious. It was blatantly obvious that everything that had happened had been noticed by the producers, and the staff, and everyone with eyes and without them too, that all three of the finalists were missing someone.

Veronica was setting her alarms up, all five of them as usual, before dragging her ingredients from the bag she kept. On her workbench, she’d gently placed a photo Tia had taken of some landscape or other. Lawrence had laid all her ingredients out on a baby pink tablecloth that complimented the purple of her own KitchenAid.

Aurora only had one thing to remind her of Tayce. She’d gone into a charity shop in the week with Blake, looking for something he’d seen in the window, and had found something that Blake had gasped at.

“It’s a Welsh love spoon!” He’d thrust the small wooden spoon into Aurora’s hand, and she’d turned it over and over silently in her fingers, marvelling at the twisting pattern on the handle, curling into a heart shape at the top.

“That’s fate, that is,” Blake had nodded. “You’ve got to get that.”

Aurora set the spoon now on the counter top, resting against her own KitchenAid for now, as she ran back through the timings again in her head, and what she was planning.

The twelve savoury pastries were easy. Puff pastry sausage rolls with added baked beans and cheese. Even if Prue didn’t like baked beans, that was all Tayce seemed to be eating every breakfast time.

Screw what Prue likes. This isn’t for her.

The cake? It had taken some thought. Black Forest gateau with a mirror glaze to top it off, not something she knew if Tayce liked, but something that felt sophisticated and stylish. And the deep purple of the blackberries was a colour that Tayce loved.

The patisserie was the hardest one, but she’d settled on millefeuille, similar to some that she made before for her nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, delicate and decorative, fragile-looking but built to stand tall. Not to mention they tasted so good that the world ceased to exist when someone bit into one.

“It’s like they’re all back here, isn’t it?”

Veronica’s voice was quiet, but happy. Lawrence’s intake of breath was shaky, but she didn’t turn to face her, focusing on her bake.

“You’ve got a tin of baked beans on your workbench, Aurora, it’s so surreal! And Lawrence, you’ve got so much pink on your workbench today.” Veronica motioned to the pink fondant she’d made, pink icing, pink glaze, pink cake filling. Pink and white marshmallows, pink jam … every shade of pink imaginable. Lawrence just gave a snort and shook her head.

It was meant to be the hardest challenge yet, but it definitely didn’t feel that way. The tent heated up with the warm sunshine outside and the combination of ovens and bakers and inside, but as soon as nerves started manifesting, the three of them were all there to diffuse them all for each other.

When Lawrence started dropping her utensils, both Aurora and Veronica were at her side in an instant to grab her hands and calm her down before she started panicking. When Veronica clung to the edge of her workbench, motionless, Lawrence and Aurora were both there beside her to talk her down.

But when the last ten minutes were called …

Shit.

Aurora felt cold fear creep back up her chest. She still had the millefeuille to assemble. She’d done three, but nine remained. And the puff pastry had to come out of the oven. And the glaze needed to be poured over the cake for it to set into a mirror in time -

“Aurora?” That was Lawrence, with Veronica on her heels. “You’re making a squeaky whiny noise like a balloon letting out air. What d’you need?”

“But - ten minutes - your own bakes -“

As Aurora flapped, the other two simply ran round her side and started doing it without needing her to tell them. Soon all her pastries were on the tray, and the cake was out the fridge, the glaze ready to go.

“You pipe, I’ll load,” Veronica muttered, and she did just that, while Lawrence put the cake onto the metal tray, jogging back from her own workbench where she’d had to finish off one of her own patisseries, and as Aurora finished piping the last millefeuille …

“Bakers! You have five minutes on your final Showstopper!”

They were all pulling out the stops, dashing between all three of their benches. Veronica was throwing gold leaf around like it was confetti. Lawrence was covered in icing sugar, the sweet scent filling the air. Aurora poured the deep purple onto the cake, praying to the Monster gods that it would set into a mirror glaze in time …

“Time is up! The final Showstopper has finished! Congratulations, bakers!”

The whole world seemed to crumble at Noel’s words.

Aurora looked at the mountain of food she’d produced, everything that reminded her of Tayce, and she knew then that serving this would mean serving a slice of her heart to the nation. And that was the plan all along.

Everything in her body ached, her bones were hollow, her breathing felt too loud alongside the deafening roar of blood in her ears. But as she leaned on the workbench, surveying the amount of work she’d done, she felt a tickle at the back of her throat, and suddenly she was laughing, so hard that she felt like she’d never stop. And then so was Veronica. Then Lawrence began too.

They were all cackling, all three of them, delirious with delight. Noel and Matt came to congratulate them, clapping as they did so, and then Veronica came out from her bench to hug Lawrence, and Aurora ran to join in, and the three of them were suddenly hugging, laughing, sobbing, cheering into each others’ ears.

Until they were all too weak to speak.

——

Aurora, first alphabetically, was going to be the first out of the tent with her final Showstopper, to make her way to the garden party that was always put on for friends and family for the grand finale.

All her bakes were on an enormous tray and she carried it, with Noel on her left and Matt on her right, all three of them bearing the load. Aurora was flabbergasted that nothing was moving, nothing was falling, but everything was still and settled.

As soon as she stepped outside the tent for the first time, she was met by a blast of noise like heat from a furnace.

Clapping, cheers, whoops, laughter. The crowd at the garden party was friends, family, co-workers, film crew, all the staff of Norton Hall, and of course Blu and Cheryl. She caught sight and sound of her nan - her nan! - her accent and her distinctive nasal voice above the rest of the crowd, bless. And Blake, waving his hands in the air and cupping them to his mouth to howl at the sky.

And the rest of the contestants, waiting with the biggest smiles, with applause, with cheers and shouts that drowned out everything else that was happening.

Tayce was in the centre. And Aurora had never seen her look so happy.

She rested the tray at the table outside the tent behind her name, and stopped, stunned, blinking so many times at the noise and her senses overloading. How green the grass was, how vibrant the gingham pattern on the table, how blue the sky was above her head, how bright and hot the sun felt on her bare arms.

“Go on, Aurora,” Matt muttered, pointing to the crowd. “You can go and see them!”

Aurora walked slowly, the dream she was in making her legs shake. Her feet were resting on air, two inches above the ground, just above the blades of grass. But she somehow made the walk, the whole twenty-foot walk, away from the tent towards them all, dazed by their overflowing love, their cheers and their applause.

Tayce was beaten in the first hug by Hurricane Ellie, swamping Aurora in her arms; and by the time she’d disentangled herself, Bimini was there, leaping forward and rubbing her arms and beaming at her; followed by a grinning Pip, followed by Joe, still cackling. In fact, everyone seemed to get a turn before Aurora was left with just Tayce, waiting patiently, the grin she wore showing all her teeth, her eyes crinkling in happiness.

“Told you you could do it, bitch!”

——

“I made this spread for Tayce,” Aurora began, still cursing that her name was first alphabetically and she was first up on the podium.

Part of the Showstopper this year was a little speech to the crowd at the garden party. It was meant to be a tear-jerker, obviously, for the viewers to have an emotional finale, but it had just served to make all the bakers pull their hair out while writing a speech about which contestant they were baking for, and why.

“I made it for her because Tayce has been my rock throughout the competition. We were on the back row together, we got through all the first challenges together … she corrected me on the name of the hall for God’s sake, I was calling it Carr Hall for ages!”

The polite laughter tinkled around the grounds.

“Tayce has been an inspiration in so many ways. She’s taught me that … that I can channel my worries into the energy that I use to make a cake or a bread or whatever - and that can be fuel for me, to push me forwards. Tayce showed me that they were just a source of power like anything else. She always told me to relax. Well, chillax. And when I did, I rediscovered that I loved baking.”

Aurora couldn’t look at Tayce, even from this distance. Couldn’t see her eyes. If she did she might burst.

Lawrence and Veronica sat on the chairs next to the tent, next to the judges, waiting their turns, while everyone else sat or stood on the grass; but Aurora’s position on the podium, towering over them all, kept eyes trained on her as she gave her speech about her Showstopper, before everyone would come and eat.

“Me and Tayce,” Aurora’s voice cracked. “Well, we didn’t always get along. It’s a competition, and we all have our eyes on the prize, and that pressure of wanting to be the best got on top of us both at times.”

The silence was only broken by birdsong.

“But Tayce taught me that I do my best when I’m relaxed. When I’m loving what I’m doing. She taught me that my thoughts can be my own worst enemy, especially when I’m thinking about other people.” She paused, glancing back at her cue card, the words jumbling before her eyes. “And most of all she taught me that - that I ama great baker. That …”

The lump in her throat was back, the fear creeping up her windpipe to strangle her words. She shook her head defiantly.

“That I am more than capable, that I’m skilled, and that I’m … loveable. She held up a mirror for me. So I made one for her too. Thanks, Tayce.”

More polite laughter, followed by applause, as she indicated the mirror glaze cake.

Finally, she met Tayce’s eyes, and as soon as she did, her own burned with unshed tears, emotion swelling in her like a tidal wave.

But Tayce too, her lip quivered, not even noticing the others around her or their applause. She opened her mouth, and her lips moved, but only for Aurora.

“Love you, bitch.”

Aurora managed to mouth back to her while applause rang in the air.

“Love you, too.”

——

“Ellie’s gonna hate me for this,” Lawrence muttered into the microphone, and Aurora looked over at the crowd, Ellie already shaking with silent laughter with her hands over her mouth. “I made a spread for her. She probably wasn’t expecting it, it rains too much to ever have a picnic outside in Dundee, poor bitch has probably never seen the sun -“

“Lawrence,” Matt Lucas piped up, “just a reminder that this will air before the 9pm watershed.”

“So I can’t say bitch? Fuck’s sake!” Lawrence put her hands on her hips.

Aurora put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making too much noise, but laughing this much was making tears stream down her face; and Veronica, sat next to her, leaned into her arm, also shaking, stuffing her fist into her mouth to silence herself.

“Anyway, I made all this pink stuff for Ellie. And not just because Team Scotland has to stick together,” she added, as Ellie whooped in the crowd, “but because she really has been the best friend I could have made here.”

Veronica let out a cough that sounded a great deal like ‘sexual tension’ and she and Aurora spluttered with laughter.

“And ignore the peanut gallery over there,” Lawrence motioned to Veronica without even looking. “Because first and foremost, Ellie has been a great friend to me. She sat with me when I was upset when I did something wrong, and she was the first to celebrate anything I got right - even if it was at her expense.”

“Aww,” Veronica murmured next to Aurora.

“I take everything really seriously. I take baking to heart. If I’m not good at something, it freaks me out, because I’m usedto being good at everything I try. Gifted kid syndrome, if you know you know.” Lawrence thumped her chest. “But Ellie just has fun with it all. She taught me that you can have fun with something without necessarily needing to be perfect at it. There isn’t a yardstick of quality to having fun. And even if I’m not good at something, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth the time.”

Ellie was now quiet, as the others turned to watch her, but she was only looking at Lawrence, oblivious to everyone around her as the grin on her face quivered with emotion.

“Ellie is fun. And I wanted to make something that would be fun, and also her. That’s why there’s a lot more pink than I’m used to,” Lawrence continued, motioning to the huge pink cake and the pink icing on the choux buns she’d made.

“When I was unsure of myself, Ellie reminded me of what I could do. But she also reminded me that I should be having fun. That’s the reason I made this for her. Because baking should be fun, and should be something you don’t take too seriously. And once I got that, I loved it.”

As everyone applauded again, Lawrence gave the crowd a thumbs up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, looking as if she wanted to get off the podium as fast as possible.

——

“Come on Veronica,” Aurora muttered under her breath.

Veronica looked very short, smaller than usual, even on the podium, the microphone somewhere at her forehead before she adjusted it to her mouth. She licked her lips; her eyes darted to the crowd, to Aurora and Lawrence sat separate to them all, to the judges, and then down to her note paper again.

“Well,” Veronica said for what felt like the fortieth time, another giggle escaping her lips. “Hello, everyone.”

“She’s bombing,” Lawrence muttered.

“She’s just too nervous,” Aurora nodded.

“Right. So. I made this spread for Tia, you know this now, because there’s a sign saying Tea or Coffee on it, I thought that was a nice - erm, a nice touch.”

“God.” Lawrence put a hand to her chest.

Aurora watched as Veronica took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out slowly, the silence only interrupted by birdsong.

“I - I’m a perfectionist. If it’s not perfect, I don’t want it. If something is out, even by ten grams, even by a centimetre, I just want to throw it out and never look at it again.”

Veronica repeated the deep breath, clenching the podium, her knuckles white.

“Me and Tia just clicked. We’re quite similar, me and her. We have the same humour, we like the same police dramas and murder mystery documentaries, we both like art and drawing and stuff -”

“Since when does Veronica like drawing?”

“You need to check her instagram page,” Lawrence muttered back, “it’s all artwork.”

“- but the one thing me and Tia didn’t have in common was baking. Tia’s an amazing baker. But something about that tent - as soon as she was in it, she kept making a mess of everything, she won’t mind my saying that; and I know she got really frustrated, but she never wanted to quit. She just always wanted to get better.”

Veronica was tearing up, it was evident even from this distance, her white knuckles shaking. Tia, in the crowd, squirmed for her, clutching Pip’s hand as Veronica fought to get some more words out.

“Tia taught me that it’s fine to make mistakes.”

Another long pause.

“Not that - I don’t mean that Tia is always making mistakes! She does a lot of stuff really great! But she taught me that being perfect is basically impossible. And that I can trust myself if something goes wrong, that I can trust myself to be able to fix it, and not just give up.”

Tia dabbed her eyes with her free hand, shuffling nearer to Pip, who had a hand on her own chest in sympathy.

“Because she doesn’t give up. She just wants to do better. And I love that about her. I wish I’d put less pressure on myself when I first got in there, trying to be perfect at everything, instead of trying to be my best, and getting better by making mistakes.”

Veronica finally seemed to be settling, the rare smile appearing.

“She showed me that making mistakes is fine, and it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, it means I’m a person. And she - her bakes were amazing, and lovely, and she’s such a genuine person that everyone in the tent fell in love with her. Well,” she paused, looking up, “I did.”

Tia’s jaw dropped as she clutched at her chest, leaning into Pip at her side, tears falling freely down her face now as the rest of them clapped, while Veronica’s smile widened, her own tears falling too.

“That’s so …” Aurora murmured, not realising she was holding Lawrence’s hand.

“… cheesy,” Lawrence muttered, but her voice had a crack in it.

——

Aurora’s nan got the first hug when she went over to her family. Her best friend Blake had the second, patting her heavily on the back.

“So which one is the one you made all the cake for then?” Her nan motioned to the crowd of contestants, who had been mostly all mingling together, now breaking off to sit with the crew and each other.

“Tayce is - oh, she’s here.”

Tayce, appearing from somewhere, plonked herself on the grass by the picnic blanket and helped herself to a sausage roll. “Oi oi, saveloy! Oh, these look nice! You put baked beans in them?” Tayce grinned. “You know me like the back of your hand, Rory!”

“Beans on toast was your go-to breakfast, wasn’t it?”

“Oh god, yeah,” Tayce nodded. “Breakfast of kings! The only breakfast! If I could have beans on toast for the rest of my life, I’d die happy. A bit flatulent, but happy.”

She looped her arm through Aurora’s waist, planting a kiss on her lips, before picking up a pastry, leaving Aurora floating just a little from the contact.

“So are you two dating now?” Blake asked, his eyes wide as saucers, hoping for gossip as usual.

Aurora met Tayce’s gaze; they hadn’t really discussed anything official yet. Tayce’s smile was strangely shy, and her eyes earnest, a thousand questions behind them; but as they both nodded simultaneously, it felt like they could work out the details a little bit later.

“Yep!” They both exclaimed at the same time.

Tayce reached down and grasped Aurora’s hand. “And you’re the first to hear about it - not the tabloids, not Hello magazine!”

“You’re not just putting it on for the cameras, are you?” Aurora’s nan teased, wagging her finger at the pair of them.

Tayce turned to glance at Aurora, the same thought passing between them both.

“No way,” they both said at the same time, to a snort of laughter from Blake.

There had been a time, not too long ago, that Aurora might have taken the question as a cue to overthink, overanalyse - but that thought didn’t even exist any more. Instead of being like ducks, kicking to stay on the surface, they now just floated effortlessly.

Aurora just squeezed Tayce’s hand.

Everything was falling into place.

——

“Taking into account your final bakes, and your performances throughout the series, we’ve made our final decision.”

Aurora’s left hand was numb; Lawrence was cutting off the circulation to it.

They all stood before the judges, filming the first of the three endings to keep the actual winner a secret from everyone. This would be Aurora’s win; they’d then film Lawrence’s and finally Veronica’s. For now, they all stood in line; Aurora at Lawrence’s right and Veronica at her left.

Prue held the cake stand, the Bake Off emblem engraved in the glass, all of them in a line waiting for the decision, while the crowd stood impatient, ready to put on a show to congratulate them all.

“You’re all incredible bakers, the best in the UK,” Prue continued from Paul’s speech, “and this was the most difficult season by a long way to judge. You’re all so skilled, imaginative, and clever, and I know you’ll all go on to amazing things after this is over.”

Lawrence’s hand was shaking in Aurora’s; and she could hear Veronica’s breathing on her other side.

This is it.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

Complete silence.

Even the birdsong had waned in the background.

A silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Aurora watched Prue’s mouth, wondering when she would open it again, put them all out of their misery, Veronica’s breath audible through the silence and Lawrence’s hand sweating in hers and Aurora’s heart must be the loudest thing in the whole country right now at the rate it hammered her ribs -

——

EPILOGUE

October 2021

Tayce had had to let Aurora go for Blu to wield the camera at the three finalists on the smallest of the neverending number of sofas in Pip’s sister’s house. Lawrence in the middle of the three, all squashed together on what was really a two-person sofa, but they’d all linked arms and interlocked their fingers, staring at the screen, watching themselves.

“I’m never gonna get used to being on screen,” Tia mused, shaking her head. “I swear I don’t sound like that.”

“You do, you definitely do.”

But Tia was only half paying attention to Tayce’s words, her attention on Veronica, who was ignoring her, staring enraptured at the screen. Lawrence, on the other hand, kept glancing over to see Ellie, both of them doing that strange thing they did in filming yet again, just able to know when the other was looking over at them to make sure they were alright.

Tayce tried to relax, hands in her lap, but her chest fluttered every time she met Aurora’s gaze.

The finale had been Tayce’s favourite episode to watch, simply because she hadn’t been in it. The element of surprise was there as she watched it, although it was there for all of them, because there the finalists were, on the screen, still waiting for the winner to be announced.

It must be between Aurora and Lawrence. Veronica only has one badge; it probably won’t be her.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

The painful zoom of the camera on everyone’s faces. Aurora’s nervous smile, pure yet heartbreaking. Lawrence looking at the sky to stop herself from crying, both her hands occupied by another finalist. Veronica, her stare intent with anticipation, chewing her bottom lip.

“Aurora!”

The room erupted.

Cheryl was jumping up and down, the first at the sofa to hug Aurora as she sat still as a statue, hands at her mouth and eyes agape in shock, as Lawrence pulled her tightly to herself, planting a delighted kiss in her hair.

“It’s you!” Veronica shrieked, shaking her knee, “it’s you! You won! You won the whole thing!”

And then everyone else streamed in to hug her. Pip was first - Pip was always the first to lay a comforting hand - Tia was close on her heels - Ginny’s hands looped round her neck from behind and their eyes crinkled in joy - but Aurora still sat frozen, only her rapid blinking suggesting anyone was home at all.

Tayce felt time stop again, but this time in a moment of perfection and not defeat.

The contest environment evaporated, she couldn’t fathom feeling anything but pure elation for Aurora’s win, couldn’t fathom having felt any other way for this wonderful woman who she was lucky enough to now call her girlfriend, sat with her hands at her mouth and silent tears coursing down her face as Blu pointed a camera at it.

“Aurora! It’s you! It’s you!” Blu was patting her knee while the rest of them excitedly hugged and squeezed at her. “Do you have any words for us right now, or is it a bit overwhelming?”

“It’s - what - I can’t believe it!”

Aurora’s phone was buzzing on the dining room table, undoubtedly hundreds of friends and family calling and texting and tagging her in Instagram posts and tweets, congratulations spilling over from every direction, an outpouring of love and support and adoration.

The programme was still running, footage of Prue and Paul giving their final summaries of Aurora, and the other two finalists - other contestants giving sound bites - Aurora’s finalist speech as her face was red with tears - the where are they now segment starting to play for all the contestants.

Pip back at her day job, giving the camera a thumbs up, followed by a snap of her with Ginny at Blackpool Tower and a video of them both on the Big One. Joe reliving that Instagram video again, and clips of Cherry, Ellie and Asttina all trying to recreate it too. Cherry back at the dog-grooming business she worked for, and walking her own dog. Asttina back at the gym, followed by a photo of her and Bimini on a boat on the Thames. Bimini at their laptop, followed by pictures of them holding the childrens’ book they’d written since the show. Ellie’s move to Glasgow, a clip of her dyeing Lawrence’s hair back to the bright purple it was now. Tia and Veronica somewhere in the Lake District, windswept but with smiles a mile wide.

But Tayce didn’t see or hear any of it. Aurora was the only thing she could see.

And as she stumbled towards Tayce, draping herself into her arms and laughing in delight, Tayce held her as tightly as she could, crushing her eyes shut but not stopping her own tears, her heart bursting for Aurora as she was privileged to share this moment of exhilarated happiness with her …

She’s already a Star Baker. She doesn’t need a badge or a title.

But she’s got both now! And hopefully she can know that she’s a Star Baker as much as we all do!

——

THE END