Forge Three - (Audio/Action)

[bullhorned]

Bloody fairies never manage to get things right, do they?

[Like many, Gendry received his boon two days ago, but he hasn't gotten any closer to making proper use of it. Oh sure, walking back and forth through a set of mirrors is a jolly experience, but it's a pain in the ass if they're both in the same room. Though he won't deny he did have a bit of fun setting them across each other and walking through the portal over and over. But! That's not what he'd wanted!]

Seems if you want something decent, you've got to be specific. Seven hells... [He has no choice! He must do the unthinkable:] Stiles, you still about?

[Yes. He must ask STILES for help. That most dreaded of occurrences! Sure, there might be other people who could teleport him from Cothromach to Troichean Beinn in a blink of the eye. But those are other people and Gendry's faith in other people is roughly equivalent to his faith in this war ending amicably. If he's called a suspicious bastard, then it is a one hundred perfect accurate description of him.

But the locket is still in his hand and he realizes he's addressing both courts at large. Damn.]

... just, be careful about your boons, eh? The fairies like to be stingy, if you let them. [There. He's done the community at large a favor.]


[At the Cothromach]

backdated to 26th
When Gendry wasn't in his room messing about with a set of magic mirrors, he was hard at work at one of the forges. Though he wasn't officially apprenticing at any of the shops, one of the master smiths had agreed to hire Gendry on while he was in the city. So that meant keeping busy as he hammered tirelessly at some new sword. His Shard ached as he drew on its power to give superhuman blows. It was hard work and the sword wouldn't even be his, but he now knew enough about dwarven magic that he could finally give his uncle a good and strong sword. This is what he'd been doing ever since the battle had ended and he'd at last turned his work to other projects. This item was now nearly done and by evening, after he'd honed it to a razor's edge, he would find his uncle's home in the Cothromach to come knocking.

27th
After his message on the lockets, Gendry left to be at his normal routine. He was living in the Keeper's tower now and so he would eat his first and last meals of the day there. Other hours would see him in the market, working at one of the forges earning his wages by small commissions of tools or shoeing horses. Hardly work for an apprentice of Bordan Gret, but he did not seem to mind this simpler work. For those looking to find him or simply anyone in the city looking for goods, he was an easy man to find. His grumbling about boons aside, he was in as good a mood as he could be expected to be in.

Comments

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[herotypical]

Hm. [ a hum of curiousity. ] Boons are way way overrated. [ but maybe she's just jealous of this stranger complaining about his 'cause she hasn't even received a single one yet.

sooo: ] What'd you get?

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[bullhorned]

[Gendry did not know her and her question naturally made him suspicious and guarded. He frowned and gave an answer.]

A bit of something for getting about. Only, it weren't set up right.

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[herotypical]

Aha. Right. Did you read the instructions that came with it? Or are we talking about an indecipherable Ikea-esque language barrier here?

[ oh this is going to be fun. and by fun she mean...no, still fun. ]

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[bullhorned]

There weren't any instructions. [And it didn't matter what the language was, he'd still be lost!]

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[herotypical]

Have you tried calling customer service?

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[teenyoda]

You rang...?

[He popped into view in the locket, giving Gendry a grin. Where was he currently? Ah, well... maybe it might look like Jon's room. Maybe. Possibly. Okay, shut up, Gendry. He was in Jon's room.]

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[bullhorned]

[Squinting because that doesn't look like Stiles's normal room. Huh.]

Where are you?

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[teenyoda]

Ah... Jon's room? He's fallen into one of those long-sleeps, so... I figured I'd be here in case he woke up.

[Shut up, Gendry.]

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[bullhorned]

Seven hells, someone else now? [These people...!] You can leave him alone a bit, can't you?

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[teenyoda]

[He looked at the three wolves giving him the eye, like Jon being asleep was his fault.]

Um, yeah. I think so. Why, what's up?

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[aliased]

What did you get?

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[bullhorned]

A set of mirrors. [SUPER VAGUE RIGHT.]

... they're magic.

Re: video;

[aliased]

Do they make you look taller? More handsome? [ someone is in a teasing mood.]

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[bullhorned]

[He scowls at first... and then grins.] I wouldn't know, seeing as I've plenty of both. Mayhaps you ought to come see if it does you any good.

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[aliased]

I don't want to be more handsome.

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[survivra]

I expect I should be surprised the fairies don't seem much different from the imps. Or whoever gives them.

[ she's... almost laughing at him. almost. ]

They've not ever given anything to harm someone, have they?

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[bullhorned]

Not as I've heard. Least not yet.

[He would be zero percent surprised if these gifts eventually turned murderous.]

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[survivra]

Let's hope it's not just a matter of time. [ she wouldn't be surprised, either. ]

What did you ask for, compared to what you got?

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[bullhorned]

A means to travel from one side of this land to the other. Instead, I can cross the space of my bedroom instead.

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[steeledskin]

MOONRISE. MY SOLAR.

Such was the brief and cryptic quality of many of Sansa's messages to Ser Gendry in this fortnight. They were cryptic with a purpose -- brief simple messages naming a slightly different time and a slightly different place every night or so. It was a new level to the lessons she gave him in his letters -- the messages came a healthy twelve hours in advance of their appointed times, and she aimed to have him decipher the words so he might know where and when to meet her. Some had been more imaginative than this one; all had avoided the quiet study which branched off from the library's main rooms.

And although she taught him still, Sansa was certainly a more distant soul since that evening. Her demeanour was not marked with hatred or dislike, but she was guarded when around her student. Extra courteous, as though the armour might safeguard her from further deep-cutting injury.

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[bullhorned]

Gendry didn't know when moonrise even was. Especially down in this underground city where it meant walking a mile or more to go out where you could even see the sky. But it was such a mild complaint because everyone soon learned other ways to keep time and Gendry, who had already spent months in Troichean Beinn, had long adapted. So he took moonrise to mean sundown and so knew how much longer until she would expect him. His answer was as typical brief.

YES.

If she hoped to make him learn from reading her lockets, she'd succeeded in that. But teaching him to use his writing was a greater difficulty, because he found little use for recording messages by paper or locket.

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[steeledskin]

It took time to tidy her affairs of the city off her desk's wide stone surface. Although the legs were wood, the top was a fine-veined marble. And every evening she (alone; herself) folded each letter and closed each ledger and locked them up where they ought to be locked. It was not because she understood them perfectly -- often, she didn't. And often her day comprised of bringing people in who could explain the minutia to her. But she felt an overwhelming sense of care and duty, so much so that she was compelled to take stewardship over every piece of paper that crossed her desk. And tonight she had to file them all away and make room for another sort of care. Another sort of duty.

Out came her slim leatherbound book of legends and myths. Out, too, came the scrap-parchment that could scribbled upon and used up as desired. Out came a bowl of chalk and a framed slate. Out, too, came a utilitarian tea pot and two deep mugs. For lessons, she'd since abandoned the delicate china. All that lacked was her student, and so in anticipation of him Sansa left the solar door stood open. If she had to hear another knock upon it today, she would surely begin to ache behind her temples.

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[bullhorned]

Gendry arrived after a day of hard labor. Had he come right away, he would have stank of sweat and metal. But he'd learned of a swifter means of making himself decent before these appointments. Rather than the tedious business of having baths drawn for him, he would simply toss himself into one of the underground rivers. The nymphs would laugh and taunt him for doing so in his work clothes, but he would ignore them and hide his blushes as he made the bath a quick and brief thing. Only afterward would he switch into a different set of clothing that was not quite appropriate for highborn company, but was at least something he never worked in. It was plain, but it was very much Gendry.

When he arrived, his hair still damp and a crude looking mess, the servants eyed him with familiarity, smiled, and seemed entirely too satisfied as though they had just been proven correct about something. He ignored them and stepped through the open door, not entirely sure if he was meant to knock. He didn't. So he used a more standard greeting. "M'lady."

arrives late with starbucks.

[impeaches]

Renly starts a little at the knock to the door and he pauses, lips turning down into a small frown. He's been at peace for quite some time and there aren't many here in Cothromach that would come and disturb him for any reason - unless the Lady Keeper came to him to ask for another boon or had some news on the matter they had been discussing not too long ago. He pushes himself up and away from his desk, putting his papers to one side (just to be cautious) before he moved, dismissing his squires and opening the door.

He certainly hadn't expected to see his nephew.

Pausing, he hesitates before he steps back, offering a nod of greeting. "Nephew. I had not imagined I would be seeing you - least not in person. I hope you're well?"

eww highborn drinks

[bullhorned]

"I ain't dead," he said mildly as he glanced into the room as if looking to see if they were going to be spied upon. In his hand was a bundle, wrapped in sackcloth, that was as long as his arm. It was held so that it stood against the back of the arm and thus not the most obvious thing upon looking at him, though hardly hidden at the same time. The delivery made him feel agitated.

"You mentioned you had something for me. From Treun."