Comfort and Discomfort [Sivan]

[Torin Kilvin]

88th Frost, 122

It seemed like a pity, or a stupid oversight on his part, that the cloaks Torin intended to give as gifts to his people were only now being finished, as the coldest and least comfortable season of the year drew to its end. It had made sense when he'd first thought of it, to use the princely gifts as he New Year's gifts, but now, as he looked out the window of his well insulated home at the yard through which he would have to pass to do his final check over the cloaks, he regretted his mistake. It was sleeting; falling in big, wet, slushy drops and hard enough that it would have soaked the yard through in minutes had it been warm enough to be raining properly.

Turning back to his bowl of hot, fruit-laced porridge he wondered if he were to linger over it, the storm might blow itself out. The clouds covering the city as far as the eye could see told a different story, so he sighed and dug into his breakfast with his normal speed. Timon and Sivan were also at the table talking over their down morning meals, and Huntress was curled under it keeping all their feet warm. Torin hadn't been listening but when his mind was pulled back into the flow of the conversation it seemed to be about proper pricing for some of the new Alchemical substances Sivan was now offering for sale in the shop. Timon had a list of all the prices but he was endlessly interested in why things cost what they did. His keen mind for numbers could come up with a fair price for almost any mundane item now, as well as anything Torin made in either of his workshops. Since the elf had taken up working residence in the alchemical lab upstairs the youngest member of their family had been chipping away at the gap in his knowledge of alchemical time tables and ingredient costs.

The smith listened and even understood some of it, but both the others had surpassed him in understanding significantly enough that it was only some of it, and none of the parts about current market value. As Timon cleared the dishes away and started them soaking in the sink the Torin and Sivan made their way to the front hall where the coats and cloaks were hung. Slipping into one of each Torin still grimaced at the weather, hesitating to open the door until Sivan was fully ready.

"I don't suppose," He asked, trying to sound as though it weren't a big deal and failing a bit, "you could have Nut make is an air umbrella just to the workshop?"

[Sivan]

"...but if you want to get out of the city for a while, I can take you into the woods the next time I go foraging. Exael doesn't seem to be fazed by the eclipse, so he can keep us safe if the shadows start tracking us. But you will be able to see why some reagents are more costly, or if they require harvesting at a specific time before going through an alchemical process, you will have a better sense of that. And seasonal issues... and... well, everything is more expensive now. First it was the war... then it was the eclipse. Things are more difficult to come by..."

Once Timon was clearing the table, he walked with Torin to the entry and was layering on garments for the cold and the wet. He laughed at Torin's request and nodded. But first, he turned back toward Huntress and, between his posture and vocalizations, communicated that she ought to stay and watch the pup. She consented and turned around to nose at Timon.

The elf smiled back at Torin and then took the lead. Nut appeared at his silent call, whirling about his head like a halo. Khal appeared as well, curious. Sivan was only too happy to show off how advanced the sprites had become under his care. As they had become more self-aware, more sentient, they had come to refer to him as something like father and it made him happy. Nut began to spin around his head ever faster, widening the circumfrence of the circle once he stepped outside. Sivan pulled Torin close so the spinning didn't shoot water into his eyes. She was having more fun this way, but it was spewing water in a circle around him. At least he wasn't getting wet.

"Perhaps we ought to put up some shade sails between your doors to keep off the weather. Or I could entice a wood elemental to grow a sort of... overhang?"

Khal, wanting to help, bounced around in a slower arc under the more frantic Nut, sending little blasts of heated air down at them to keep them warm for the short walk across the yard. It was going to really bloom this spring; he could tell. At least, if the eclipse didn't confuse nature more than it already had. He laughed, though. The blasts of air looked like Khal had flatulence, but it only smelled like rain water evaporating.

[Torin Kilvin]

The youngest of the working three was, if not fascinated, deeply engaged in the conversation.

"As long as it's warm by then." He laughed, but after his harrowing (if also regretted) incident in the mountains surrounding Starfall he had no intention of venturing into the wilds until Glade had well and truly arrived. "If you have any notes, or a book about ingredients I'll see if I can learn enough to be useful when we go."

When Torin stood, Timon followed a moment later, beginning to clear the dishes. The two older men spoke for a moment in the hallway before heading out, each to their work. He set the porridge pot to soak and then let Huntress lick the remnants of the grain and berries from the bowls before quickly scouring them.

Making his own way to the front hall he considered his outer clothing for a long moment before donning his heavy coat but leaving his cloak on the peg, it would only soak through and need to be dried if he took it, and it was only about five feet between the house and the overhang that protected the back door to the shop. They should really invest in extending the roof to cover the gap. When he was bundled he called Huntress to him and they made the little dash together. Opening the shop was routine by now, and it was unlikely that, between the storm and the eclipse, there would be any in person customers. The shop was more school house to Timon than it was anything else, but a morning of studying subjects he enjoyed held its own appeal.

When Torin reached the forge with Sivan he pulled the elf into the warmth of the banked blacksmithy. For a moment it seemed as though, having pulled the elf close enough to be almost flush, he intended some sort of romantic tryst, but his smile and expression, to anyone who knew him well, would tell a different story. Excitement about his work was a whole thing for Torin.

"Come I want you to see something." Grasping Sivan's hand the smith pulled him through the forge into the runeforge. Immediately upon entering anyone would notice the almost half dozen packages wrapped in good oiled paper and ribbon. Picking one up, without seeming to care which he pressed pressed it into his lover's hands.

"It's a New Year's gift, but I want you to have it now, it'll be useful."

Anyone who worked in, or even often visited Torin's place of work knew he'd been up to something for months that he hadn't spoken to anyone (probably) about. Any of those people would know that he tended to make his friends special gifts for the changing of the year, so guessing what he was up to wasn't hard either.

When unwrapped, shimmering fabric that seemed neither silk nor velvet, but something between the two, slipped out in waves. When held out the bundle revealed itself to be a long cloak with a hood, and, despite being floor length, it weighed very little.

Beaming, Torin explained,

"It's a Cloth of Comfort cloak." The enchantment was fairly well known, so he waited to see if Sivan would know what he meant.

[Sivan]

"Whoa!" snuck out of him before he could stop it. Torin was stronger than he knew, and in his excitement, he could startle a person. Sivan always felt safe with his friend, but instincts were instincts, and he was more in touch with his elven instincts since acquiring his Rune of Animus, which was strange. In any case, he was drawn into the smithy and surrounded by presents. He laughed.

"You always outdo everyone for New Year," he said quietly. Torin would be getting honey, tea, mead, and various other things Sivan knew he liked, some of them alchemically enhanced, but Torin always made gifts that were useful and appropriate for the people he cared about. This generosity was endearing, but he could only hope that Torin never felt as though the feelings were not reciprocated or appreciated.

As Torin unfurled the cloak for display, Sivan's eyes softened. The man inverted most of his enchantments anymore, so Sivan wasn't sure what else he might have sneaked into its design, but it was beautiful.

"As long as this doesn't mean you won't be my Human of Comfort..." Golden skin flushed a bit as he turned around, approaching Torin backward so the man could drape the cloak over his shoulders and have his arms around hime while fastening the clasp. "I still need my Human of Comfort." The smithy was warm, but Torin was his preferred furnace. "How does it look?" he asked before it was even secured around his frame.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin so rarely let himself give in to excitement that, when he did, he rarely realized how much he was putting in to it. Embarrassment would have been the result if he had, but those who were trusted enough that he showed his emotions to them also knew him well enough not to call attention to it, least he stop.

As it was, the comment that he 'outdid' everyone for the holiday had him blushing. He'd never thought about his desire to give gifts to the people that literally made his life worth living, filled it with life and love, as anything but a pleasure to himself. Quietly, a little abashed, he said,

"You give me so much, all year, every day, it makes me happy to give you nice things." The elf had given him a number of very nice things the night before, not least sleeping tucked tight, skin to skin, and if his gratitude and affection spilled over into his work, it only made it better. Becoming emotionally involved in blacksmithing was a terrible idea, but, oddly, Torin had found that allowing some emotion into his runeforging made the results superior.

When Sivan turned about to allow him to put the cloak about his shoulders it felt like an honor; trust and affection twinning around him as his arms twinned about the elf. In answer to the question, without releasing the hug from behind so that he could even see how the garment looked around his friend's shoulders, Torin said,

"You're beautiful." Soft, and then nuzzled his face against the side of Sivan's ear up to the point. Straightening the way the fabric fell became touching. Not groping, but just running strong hands over elven chest and arms, feeling the body beneath in a way that could not be mistaken for anything but appreciation.

As soon as the cloak was fully on his shoulders, Sivan would suddenly be the perfect temperature, similarly to how the spirits kept his home always the ideal. Not dry, not too humid, not cold or hot, but the exact levels of environment that the elf liked best.

Still running his mouth lightly over ear or neck or cheek in little kisses or nuzzles Torin explained that the level of comfort would remain regardless of the weather or situation, that sleeping curled in the cloak would be as comfortable as a bed, that no mundane blade would pierce the fabric, and it would blunt any fall or blow.

"And," He murmured, "If you concentrate while wearing it, you can change the color, the shape, what fabric it appears to be made of, and the decorations a bit."

[Sivan]

Torin's appreciation made him warmer than any cloak, and then he was wrapped in his impossibly strong arms as well as his new cloak and he grew more than warm. And yet, the cloak didn't add unduly to that. It wicked away heat and left him entirely comfortable. Cloak of Comfort, indeed.

He made a little noise in the back of his throat and the nuzzling. An elf's ears were sensitive to touch as well as sound.

Sivan shivered.

Perhaps the cloak was just calibrating his temperature, though.

"'Tis armor as well?" he asked, impressed. And enchanted with glamours as well. A fine eyebrow rose at that. Sivan looked down at the mist-grey fabric and concentrated upon it, sensing the structured flows of aether that Torin had delicately worked into it. Exerting his will, the fabric turned a more dove grey, then bloomed through several shades of blue—ultramarine, cerulean—before settling into a deep, vivid royal blue. Then, the edges seemed to transmute into thread-of-gold, sprouting golden vines and leaves. The collar stood more stiffly, his shoulders seemed broader.

Sivan laughed. "I look like the a prince of Sol'Valen!"

There was an almost childlike delight in that. In Silfanore, he had been less than a nobody—mongrel-blooded. But he wasn't thinking of that just now. He took Torin in his arms, drew him near, and kissed him, his clever fingers lodging in the smith's hair.

"Thank you," he said, eyes capturing his friend's, lips reddened by their affection. "I love it."

[Torin Kilvin]

To Torin's delight, Sivan began to experiment with the cloak immediately. The elf's delight became plain as he played with the magic, and it almost felt as though they were both boys with a new toy.

"You do." Laughing softly from joy rather than mocking, the smith nodded and then stepped back, making an attempt at a courtly bow before his princeling. "It suits you."

The joy was returned in another embrace, and, as it sometimes happened when he was with Sivan, Torin felt a young as he was. They kissed in his workshop, with the passion of young lovers, more in love with the idea of each other than lusted, but there was that too.

The craftsman in Torin butted against the interruption to his explanation, but it was over ruled for some minutes by every other part. When, at last, they pulled back to a distance that at least allowed conversation, it was again thwarted, however, as the first thing that came from the human's mouth was,

"You're so beautiful." The blush that covered his cheeks didn't stop his words but he was embarrassed by how much he felt them and that his voice did not hide it. "I thought you were the first time I saw you, though I didn't have the words, even in my head. I just wanted to be near you."

When the adoration had been expressed sufficiently that the craftsman could again edge its way into the conversation Torin brought a hand up to softly finger over the lovely golden vines now decorating the fabric.

"There is spellthread woven in. If you ever want to, or need to, it can hold some pre-cast aether, or even raw aether. It might help with the eclipse, or if you want anything ready." He shrugged a shoulder, having no active magic of his own, he wasn't sure how it might be used but he did know that mages who could afford it added it to their clothing.

[Sivan]

Sivan flushed with embarrassed pleasure, rose blooming on gold. He looked down and a lock of golden hair tumbled forward to screen him from view.

"And here I thought you were interested in clockwork," he mumbled.

Thinking back, he had appreciated Torin's beauty that first time they met at Jacun's shop, though nothing like desire had come into it until much later, when he knew the man that wore the flesh. His mind jumped quickly to the technical, and he nodded, looking up after a moment. His lips still warm where they had locked with Torin's, they pursed in thought.

"I suppose we have been spoiled living and working in the light of your lamps, but a little cache of usable aether would be a good thing until Shinsei fixes the Eclipse." The elf cleverly wormed his way under Torin's arm, wanting the weight of it on his shoulders, though he wondered if he would grow jealous of the cloak stealing some of Torin's heat away from him. "If he doesn't, you are going to have to craft an artificial sun to banish the shadows and keep the aether flowing..."

He grinned, face close to Torin's once more. It was clear he had full faith in Torin's ability to enchant a solution.

Sivan kissed him again, a hand coming up to hold his jaw.

"I think we might need to write and enforce some rules about tomfoolery in the forge else we might lose all sense of productivity." He bit his lip for a moment, then laughed quietly, then kissed Torin again.

[Torin Kilvin]

"I was!" The smith protested, trying to be both embarrassed and amused at the same time as he realized that he was likely being teased.

"I am. Just... also you." That he might be as interested in Sivan as he was in clockwork was actually a compliment consider he'd been day dreaming about The Clockwork Empire and recreating its wonders far longer than he'd been waking from wet dreams.

When the lamps were mentioned it brought back the second gift that, though smaller and significantly less magical, felt more vital under the current circumstances. With one arm taken by a very welcome occupant Torin was still able to lean back a little to his table and bring forward a finely crafted wooden box about the size of both his hands if he held them beside each other. Unfastening the lid he pulled out one of several pieces that lay on the velvet cushion within. This he also handed to the elf, saying.

"It was Timon's idea, actually, to add these to the cloaks." The silver brooches were designed specifically for each person Torin had made them for, and this one was silver with a leaf motif and a bright illumite gem at its center.

"When we were caught out in the first wave of attacks by the shadow creatures it apparently inspired the notion. Sort of feel like an idiot for not thinking of it myself. I'm giving him half the commission on any we sell from now on but I wanted to finish the ones for us and our friends first."

Turning the piece over to the elf so it could be examined he closed the box and then pulled them back a little closer.

"It spread's its light just like a miniature version of the lamps, for about five feet around the wearer. The light might be nice on a dark night but mostly it's just so you never get caught out and unable to...keep your aether flowing." He smiled at the end, pleased with his own small cleverness, then they were again kissing. The action devolved the conversation briefly before the suggestion of rules and regulations was made.

Trying not to laugh at the idea, Torin wondered what Aurin would think of the idea and did laugh at the image of the redhead's face that came into his mind at the thought.

"Oh." Was what he said, though his tone was quite playful,

"And should these rules apply to the alchemy lab? To the clockwork shop as well?" He glanced up at where the ceiling of the runesmithy was also the floor of said other work areas, recalling the times they had lost track of work in each other therein.

Perhaps, someday, as they grew and matured together, work would be enough to entirely keep them hands-off in their work-spaces, but despite each of their tenancies to hyper-focus on their work, for the time being, it seemed they were destined to be distracted.

[Sivan]

"Clever boy," he said of Timon, and it was true. The lad was handy enough if they needed help in the work spaces, but he truly excelled when it came to selling and to arranging all the business of the Forge. Certainly, Torin's noble patron was taking a keen interest in the lad's education, as was Torin's lover, who was quite the astute financier himself, it seemed.

Eventually, Torin was going to need a proper apprentice who wanted to focus on the forge or had the talent for the rune forge. Timon didn't want that, nor did he have the same ineffable knack that Torin did. Thankfully, he had other talents that were celebrated and cultivated.

Turning the brooch over and over in his careful hands, he admired the work.

"Clever boy," he said, this time of Torin, as he looked up and smiled at him. "I suppose if I ever need to focus on my work, I can just ask a certain fox to let you scent him. Then you'll be off..." The elf grinned, unthreatened by the other people in Torin's heart. The illumite made the brooch warm to the touch, or perhaps that was just how his mind translated that warm energy radiating from the shard. Torin was like illumite, lighting the way and warming those in his circle.

Sivan held up the brooch with an innocent smile.

"Would you like to pin me?"

fin.