An Honest Day's Work [Torin]

[Finn]

51st of Frost, Year 121 AS
Kilvin's Forge

While Torin finished some of the more skill-intensive work, Finn began to go through the checklist in his head to bring the forge back down to rest for the evening. The fires didn't go out, but a forge had to be tended so the work could continue when morning came and so that there was no damage to the facilities from improper management. It had been so drilled into him that even though he was no smith himself, he couldn't just sit by and watch Torin work when there was that work to be done.

It had been a while since he had helped, but it felt good to help. This was not his work, but it was work he knew. Torin didn't mind if he sang while he worked, sometimes joining in, even. And he could tell that his grip on the tools was stronger now than it had been right after his capstone performance. The smith had invited him to supper afterward and he had accepted. Young Timon had their new pup with him in the storefront; she was too rambunctious to have underfoot in the forge and would howl if left alone in the house. It would be a nice evening, he thought.

There were things he wanted to talk to Torin about, as well. First, though he was working shirtless, the man hadn't mentioned the rune on his shoulder. It might have been a tattoo, he supposed, but it wasn't. Second, he wanted to talk to him about pegs for his new lute, the rescue from Phoma's. Third, he had heard from his father and there were things he ought to share.

When everything was in readiness that could be in readiness, Finn finally stopped to watch Torin work. There were a few more things to do, but they couldn't be done until Torin was done.

[Torin Kilvin]

The day was drawing to a close, Torin's body was strong but even it grew wearing after hours of swinging a heavy hammer. The work was almost done, and it was particularly nice to have the peripheral knowledge that Finn was close by, tending to the end-of-day chores that Torin usually dragged himself through after pushing a bit too hard.

Taking a slow breath he lifted the largest of his hammers and brought it down again, sending sparks flying off the slowly fading glow of the steel. This would be the last bit of forging Kala had ordered for her new Avialea mercenaries and he wanted to be entirely sure it was exactly right. The quality of equipment could be the difference between living and dying for such men. Lives were not something the young smith wanted on his conscience.

Having his own forge, doing his own work was exceptional after the crowded and impersonal last year of his apprenticeship. Yet, almost as soon as Torin had begun working in his own space he had remembered what it had been like to work with just his first master. Getting lost in the work was easy but it still left him feeling lonely sometimes. Timon and Aurin being there in the evenings most of the time helped, but it wasn't the same as working with someone he trusted and enjoyed the company of. Sharing work was its own specific feeling, its bundle of needs and having Finn there, however rarely, helped.

Turning the piece of armor with the tongs in his left hand he brought the hammer down again, turning the metal slowly so that each hit in the rhythm came down in a slightly different spot. The smith was deep into the work, eyes concentrating, mind drifting. This went on for several minutes until the light of the forge became the stronger between it and the early-setting sun.

Finally coming out of the mindset and back into reality he looked up, a bit dazed, and blinked at Finn. The man was pretty, in the way that Torin saw most things as pretty when he really thrust himself deep into his work. Functional things were lovely, tools were beautiful. Finn was lovely. Shaking his head a bit he pushed away the thoughts that would not fit into society and gave the musician a tired smile.

"Hey, sorry, I kinda sink into the work sometimes. Thank you, for your help, it really does help." Turning to carefully put hammer and tongs away he stretched.

"Gods I'm tired." He ran the back of his hand over his eyes, leaving raccoon smears of soot around each. It wasn't as obvious as it would have been had every exposed part of his skin not also been smudged.

Moving through the space he looked over Finn's work and found it to be good. Perhaps, someday, he could afford to have at least a blacksmith apprentice to do the chores for him. It felt like a lazy thought, but he had enjoyed doing the clean-up work for his first master.

As they moved to finish the last of the nightly closing chores together Torin asked,

"How are you? You seem stronger today."

[Finn]

Finn had let Torin set the pace as it was his forge; always a little keyed into the man's symphony as they worked, he was able to more seamlessly blend into the man's work. He answered with a weary smile. Though he had done far less of the most strenuous work, he also wasn't in the habit of doing it daily so it was more taxing. He also heard the admiration in the man's song and was thankful for the sweat and the soot and the flush of exertion that hid any further blush.

"My grip is definitely stronger," he admitted, flexing his fingers in the heavy leather glove. "And I like coming to help when I can. It means swinging a sword won't be so difficult whenever I have to defend myself again. But that said, ah..." He turned to show his right shoulder, which ached a bit from the work. "A friend of the family gave me this travel rune to help me run away if I'm outnumbered or unarmed. The most I can do right now is sort of... blink from here to there more quickly than I can run, but if you can use that for any of your runeforging, it's available. He says masters can take people from one city to the next like walking through a door, but who knows if I'll ever be that powerful."

He laughed and shrugged, then removed his gloves and scooped up a doubled handful of snow to scrub against his face. It was bracing, the cold, and refreshing when the heat of the forge battered against his skin again. At home, he would have taken a bath before going from his mother's forge to his father's table, but he supposed he would have to wait until he returned home to properly wash. He didn't suppose Torin, Timon, and their wolf bitch would mind terribly if he was still a bit sweaty from the work.

"Perhaps in exchange for some tuning pegs for the lute I'm fixing up...?" He tried to sound like a conniving businessman, but he had to laugh at that as well.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin nodded, remembering how it had felt when he'd broken his arm, how long it had taken to build back the real strength in it. Blond brows rose when Finn turned his shoulder to show off the new rune. The smith was a man, but he was also still a boy, so while his runesmith's mind began to invent possible uses of Transmutation in the work, he was a boy too, and simple curiosity drew him close. Moving with his typical level of care he stepped up and leaned in a bit, examining it closely, though he knew the shape and position didn't really make any difference.

"I've always wanted to work with Traversion, I haven't met anyone with the rune though." He paused, stood back up, giving Finn a smile that was just inside sheepish.

"It's pretty. Come on, I'm a mess." Stripping out of his leathers and only throwing his shirt and coat over his shoulder he stepped over to the well and drew out enough to fill the two five-gallon buckets that had sat just inside the blacksmithy all day.

Hauling one in each hand, he led the way down the well-worn little path between the workspace and the house. The short trip was freezing, but the inside of the house was warmer, if not as warm as the forge.

Not stopping, the younger man made his way up the stairs and into the only room with its own full fireplace. It was his bedroom, which did not seem weird to him. Leaving the door wide he poured both buckets into a very large tub that sat in the corner near the fire. Kneeling at the hearth he stoked it up to a merry blaze, adding logs from the full basket until the room was even warmer than being above another hearth made it.

Through this, he continued their conversation,

"I've thought of a few interesting things. Maybe they are just my fantasy, and neither of us would be ready to make them but, I was thinking of making doorways," He nodded to the door to his room to express what he meant, "That can be set to open to different places. Not different cities though..." He hummed and his brow drew down, "I suppose that could be possible. I was just thinking like, between your house and your work, or your house and a friend's house. It would have many uses, I think, for safety but also just convenience. It wouldn't be worth the cost for people. I just wanted to try.

"What you can do now would be a lot easier to make into something, a ring, or other small worn pieces. People could more easily afford something that just pulled them out of danger quickly. If you would like to train it and let me experiment I would happily split any profits we make."

[Finn]

Finn wasn't sure if he had asked too much when he mentioned lute pegs and Torin didn't comment, or perhaps he was too tired. His symphony didn't sound angry or upset so he thought it was all right. He half expected Torin to ask for a demonstration, so he opened his senses to the slipspace as best he was able from the lessons Zef had given him. But without needing to show off, he just ended up making note of how everything on Torin's property was interconnected and how it connected to things beyond the walls.

"Thanks," he said, not sure how else to respond to the compliment. He almost offered to help with the water buckets, but Torin was clearly stronger than him and anyway, it was probably easier to stay balanced with both of them. It was probably his imagination, but it almost seemed as though he could sense the path Torin was going to take even though he hadn't been there yet. There was a vague sort of déjà vu feeling that passed when he realized this was Torin's bedroom, where he likely made love to Arry's ex—though the details of that relationship weren't fully clear to him.

As village boys, both he and Torin didn't have a natural aversion to washing up in each other's presence. Nudity didn't mean sex in Finn's mind. He knew Arry wouldn't like this, but she shrugged it off. Arry wasn't here and Finn wasn't trying to have sex with Torin, even if he was a good-looking fellow.

"I'm barely initiated," he said in all due self-deprecation, "so I don't know what I will be capable of with the Rune alone, nor how it will work applied to your runeforging. Right now I'm working all with line of sight. Like I could blink from here to the other side of the room. Or I could... I don't know, pull that glass on your nightstand from there to my hand without walking over there. I might be able to vault home even though I can't see it because I know it well, but it would probably exhaust me. My plan is to do a little bit with my runes each day, like exercising a muscle. Not enough to risk overstepping, but enough to get used to doing it, feeling it out. I'll definitely let you know how things develop, though, and would be happy to help you make things. With either Rune. Lyra says a Mesmer who also masters Scrivening can write unbreakable contracts... I don't know anything about Scrivening, though. I wonder if you could make something that... I don't know, if people hold it while they swear, it binds them to their oath?"

[Torin Kilvin]

Finn had not asked too much, in fact, his request had been so minor that in Torin's excitement over the possibility of a new magic to incorporate into his work he'd forgotten to accept the offer.

Plucking the tiny, runeforged water-heating device from the mantel he twisted it enough to get the water quite hot and threw it into the tub. It wasn't full, but it was full enough and Torin was tired. One of the reasons he enjoyed Finn's company so much was that they were from similar backgrounds; geographically, economically and financially, so he knew how to act around the man without wondering if he might offend or misstep at any moment.

Nudity with someone he worked with was not at all strange for Torin either, and certainly didn't equate to anything beyond washing or occasionally swimming.

As the water heated Torin laid his shirt and coat aside and sat down on a little three-legged stool to begin working on his boots. He'd gotten the stool after realizing that sitting on the bed in his leatherwork pants would mean having to wash the bedding almost every day. Listening to Finn explain his current abilities he nodded, marveling at magic, despite having been around it his whole life.

"I'm starting to learn Scrivening from the patron. Scrivened some of a project myself at the end of last season. It worked, so, I guess I'm not learning it wrong, at least. I try to do a little every day too, or at least practice memorizing the glyphs. Must be nice, not having to get up to fetch something you left just out of reach."

Setting his boots aside he got up so Finn could use the seat if he wanted. Perhaps the man wouldn't want a full wash, as Torin did.

He mused over the suggestion as he poked at the water with one toe to test if it had warmed from the ice it had been when he drew it from the well.

"Maybe. Have one part held by the one dictating the oath and the other by the person taking it, or people, I suppose. I've now idea how to Scrive something like that yet, I can see how you'd lay the aether lines but..." He ran a hand over his still-tied-back hair. "I don't think I could Runeforge that yet either." His mind was lost to it for a moment, eyes far away, and then he said,

"Did you want to use Mesmer in the lute pegs? I had an idea after coming to your symphony, about using Mesmer on lute strings to enhance the emotional connection to the music. I jotted down some quick notes in case it sounded interesting to you."

The water was now steaming pleasantly and he gestured to it,

"You go first, I'm dirtier. You can just scoop some into the washbasin if you don't want to get in."

[Finn]

Finn laughed and started disrobing. Some of his clothes had been thrown off before he started sweating, and he supposed his trousers weren't incredibly soiled. At least he wouldn't offend at the supper table.

"I don't know if I should use it that casually," he admitted, "and probably best not to use it when I'm sleepy. More difficult to concentrate. But..."

Torin bade him wash first so he attempted a bit of traveling. He had already opened his mind to the myriad of twisting routes through the slipspace since they had begun their walk from the forge. He aligned things as Zef had taught him and within the space of a breath, he blinked from where he stood amongst his clothes to standing in the calf-deep water. His blue eyes widened a bit as he felt the displaced air and water move around him.

"The Rule of Occupation," he said, repeating something he had learned by rote. "Two objects cannot occupy the same space. Have to be careful where I intend to end up, lest something or someone be there, too."

He knelt down in the water and began to cup handfuls up onto his skin to scrub away at sweat and soot. He wasn't going to wash his hair or anything, but he began to rub the hot water into his face, turning the fair skin red.

"Perhaps I'll pick up some Scrivening from Lyra and we can compare notes? As for the pegs and the strings... I don't really know what's possible to be honest. Mesmer or just making them more durable...? I have some spellthread I was trying to get tuned properly, but if you think you can add something to that, I would be interested to see. And help. And oh... a change of subject before I forget. You remember my parents? Well, they've invited you to come with me when I visit in Glade. Da seems to think he knows you. Or your mum. I don't know if that's weird. Or if you'll have time. I usually trade songs for a seat on the back of someone's cart and it takes about the day to get there. Haven't picked a day, though, so if you do want to go but your schedule is complicated, that's all right."

[Torin Kilvin]

"Hmm." Torin acknowledged as he imagined all the ways the use of Traversion while half-awake might cause problems. The thoughts were quickly driven from his mind as his friend disappeared and reappeared inside the tub, causing a bit of a splash but not enough to get over the high sides and onto the floor.

"Oh. Wow. Yeah, maybe not while you're tired." The smith's eyes were a little wide, but he didn't look afraid or offended.

Moving about the room he fetched a cloth for washing, a cake of soap, and a long-handled ladle; handing them over before putting a towel for drying on the little three-legged stool nearby. Listening as Finn spoke, mostly to himself, Torin realized for the first time that one might teleport into another person. The train of thought, branching in a hundred ways was cut abruptly; he did not want to know what such a thing would do.

Kneeling down beside the tub so they were more on a level the blond nodded enthusiastically.

"That would be nice, helpful. We could practice together. I bought materials for practicing and I have room to make us a little study nook if you're interested." He had plans to turn the common room, now fully repaired, half into a dining room near the kitchen and half into a tiny library and study area. When the talk turned back to the lute he nodded,

"I toughen almost all my runeforged projects, no point in making something magical and then having it broken as soon as it's dropped and stepped on. I could make it so strings would never break or need replacing, but I wouldn't use spellthread. Most use it for embroidery and I don't know much about musical instruments but I don't imagine it would make a good sound. The idea can be translated into metal strings, I wouldn't try with gut." He grimaced briefly trying to imagine using gut in runeforging. It was certainly possible; leather was used all the time, but somehow it felt weirder.

As the subject changed his mind stayed working on how to make unbreakable lute strings until his mind caught up to what was being said. His head whipped up and he looked at Finn as though he might have conjured his past by speaking of it.

"I..." No other words would come out of the jumble for a few moments. "I would like to visit your parents, being back in a village would feel nice, I think but..." His eyes lowered to the side of the tub,

"I don't think my mother would be interested in seeing me. She knew where I was and never came or sent word. I don't even know if she is living." The raw, child-like quality that came to take over his tone was odd from a man whose voice had been deepening over the last year.

[Finn]

Finn grinned at Torin's reaction, a sort of boyish pride in being able to show off his new skill after having been so afraid of sharing his Mesmer, worrying people would think he was constantly manipulating them. He thanked him for the soap and all, and began to give himself a quick, thorough scrubbing. He could be efficient when he was hungry and a bath was all that stood between him and his supper. It might be nice to bring a couple of books or some sheet music here and read or write in the company of someone else. Occasionally, they might share a word or two, and there were water and snacks on hand to keep the mind sharp. It was worth a shot.

As for the rest, he frowned slightly, hoping he hadn't upset him overmuch with his father's well-intentioned meddling.

"Aye, of course. Well, the invitation stands. I'll just let you know my plans as they start to firm up, and you can say yea or nay or adjust them if you do decide you want to come along. We might have to help Mum in the forge, but not so much that it wouldn't feel like a holiday for most of it. And if the topic's sensitive, I'll tell Da to leave it be. But, you know... until we get there, you have time to think whether you want to hear what he has to say or not. Normally, we mind our business, but I suppose he thought it might... help."

He doused himself over the head a few times with the ladle, not washing his hair but trying to sluice out some of the sweat so his scalp didn't get itchy before he could have a more leisurely wash.

"But aye, I can make due with pegs and strings cannibalized from my dear departed lute, but I'd like to see what you—or we—can come up with for replacements." He reached for a towel. "Done! Oh, and the water's still just as hot. Nice." He stepped out onto the bath mat so he wouldn't make a puddle, and began to vigorously towel himself dry so he could stand in front of the hearth before a chill set in.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin stood and replaced his friend in the tub, going through the motions of cleaning himself by rote as he thought about what had been said. For all he knew, Finn's father was mistaken, there were many small villages that surrounded Kalzasi, living on the traffic that came up and down the main roads, providing food from farms and similar goods. Most of the places didn't even have names, or, if they did, they were only known by the locals a few villages around, not marked on any maps.

Following the musician's example he scrubbed away the sweat and soot without bothering to wash his hair or do the deep, soaking sort of clean he might do on a day off.

"I think I would like to go. I'll see what I can swing. Being owner of the business has its advantages, I suppose." It was still odd, a season and a half in, but he felt that he would grow used to it in time. He might not ever think of himself as he thought of other men in a similar position, but the work itself fulfilled him in many ways. "Of course your Da means well, and helping your mother would be even more like coming home."

The thought struck him that there was nothing preventing him from visiting the village he had grown up in. Followed immediately by an odd sense of both loss and interest, like someone going through a museum of their own lost culture. The life that had made the physical spaces his home was gone, it would be like walking through a house burned down.

Rinsing himself quickly he stood, dripping, and grabbed his own towel, beginning to dry himself before pulling his feet from the heat.

"It's nice, isn't it?" It was his turn to feel a little professional pride, "I hate cold baths, at least, in Frost. I thought of it and tinkered it together in my spare time. It's hardly even runeforging so much as harnessing a raw shard. I could take it out and use it for something else if I needed to, but it gets use almost every day now, so I think that's a good investment."

The two dressed again, in less hardy clothing, and made their way downstairs to where Timon was just pulling supper off the hearth. Having someone to do the cooking had not been something Torin had expected when he took the apprentice on, but it was certainly a welcome surprise.