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

[bullhorned]

All the time? [It was bad enough he had to remember to carry his other stuff with him, like... his clothes. And boots. And sometimes helmet.]

[teenyoda]

Yes, Gendry, all the time. What's the point of having an emergency thing if you don't have it on you? Get a pouch.

[bullhorned]

I have one. I keep my coins in it.

[Where is he supposed to keep his coins instead!? Sometimes he just doesn't know about Stiles. Americans.]

[teenyoda]

Keep a vial of potion in it. Or get another one. You can have more than one pouch, Gendry. Your hips are wide enough.

[bullhorned]

Aye, if I don't fancy carrying a weapon around like you. Having my axe will do me more good than a vial will. [This is basic physics. A pouch on one side, a weapon on the other.]

[teenyoda]

Oh my god, why are you such a pain in the ass. Keep the bottle in your super secret stash of shit you don't need and keep a small vial of it on you in your pouch. The universe won't explode if there's more than coins in there, Jesus.

[bullhorned]

I never asked for it! [He is utterly exasperated at this point. He doesn't know why this is even a concern. He lived his entire life without health potions before and he was probably eighteen or perhaps twenty by now (he had never had opportunity to count), so he could not imagine having to rely on it now when he'd lived half his life already.] But if it pleases Your Grace, I'll be sure to keep it.

[Acting like Stiles is stuck up royalty. That'll show him.]

[teenyoda]

[Maybe he should have had potions on him so he wouldn't have leeches on his dick. >| But fine, Gendry. DO WHAT YOU WANT.]

It does please me. You'll keep some of it on you and you'll fricking like it. And you'll even say thank you when you have to use it if you get stabbed or something and realize, hey, this wasn't such a dumb idea after all.

[Jerk.]

[bullhorned]

As you say, m'lord. Thank you, m'lord. Will we be off now, m'lord?

[This trip will either be incredible or end in one of them being pushed off.]

[teenyoda]

[Hope you can fly, Gendry.]

Fine. Let me go put my mirrors in my pouch and then we can go.

[His carry all pouch. The one he could fit Gendry in if he wanted. BECAUSE POUCHES WERE COOL.]

[bullhorned]

[Gendry opens his mouth to object to that absurd sentence, decides that there are no words for it, then simply nods. He'll wait and wonder and wish Jon had some kind of flying direwolf they could use instead.]

[teenyoda]

[Stiles then stomps off to his workshop in Cothromach, going over to the mirrors he'd been collecting for his portals, setting four up with sigils on them, propping two against the wall and putting two more in his bag of holding all the shit ever.

Then he grabbed a bottle of potion and stomped back to where they'd decided with psychic powers to meet up near the fairy ring and shoved it at his chest.]

Here.

[Dick.]

[bullhorned]

[Gendry had the far more difficult of bodily moving the large full-body mirror from his room all the way to the fairy ring. Fortunately he'd found a cart after leaving the tower, but it had still been a pain in the arse. By the time he met Stiles, he at least seemed more amicable. Working put him in a better mood - go figure.

He caught the potion and turned it over in his hands.]

... does it taste better than before?

[teenyoda]

It tastes cinnamony.

[Still slightly irked. But then he realized Gendry had carried the mirrors down by himself and he felt like a jerk. He sighed and scrubbed at his hair.]

Look, you want me to put that in my pouch? If we're going to be flying, I'd kind of hate for it to slip off and, you know...

[bullhorned]

[It was only one mirror, but still a hassle in and of itself. But though wary, he does step back to see what Stiles will do.]

Don't break it. It's useless if there's only one.

[teenyoda]

I'm not going to break it. I've got mine in here, too.

[So this? This was Stiles going over to the mirror and untying the pouch from around his waist. He opened it and crouched down by the corner. Lifting it a little, he slid the pouch under and the corner of the mirror slid in. Then a little more. Then the whole thing was just... disappearing into the little pouch. Thank you, Hermione.]

Okay. So let's hop over to the Doanna ring, then we can just fly over the mountains to Troich.

[bullhorned]

[His jaw is wide when he watches this mad display. Bloody hell.]

Gods, but you could have just put me in there and sent me by raven. [... not that he particularly wanted this to happen. But good gods.]

[teenyoda]

I wouldn't want to lose my bag by bird.

[Note he didn't say anything about losing Gendry. Maybe someone needed to get a little lost to appreciate when people did favors for them.]

[bullhorned]

[He fixes Stiles with a disparaging look, shakes his head, and vanishes into the fairy portal.]

[teenyoda]

What?

[But Stiles is talking to empty air and he rolls his eyes, giving Gendry a moment to step out of the ring on the other side before he steps in and follows through.]

[bullhorned]

[Gendry shook his head, deciding no further answer was necessary. In any case, they were at least back at Caer Glaem now. Gendry squinted as he looked up into sunlight.]

I keep forgetting what that looks like.

[teenyoda]

The castle or the sun?

[Because you were getting pasty, Gendry. Pasty and pale and... pasty.]

[bullhorned]

The sun, mostly. [Paler, perhaps. He'd had a long summer in the sun to make him dark. But he was quickly losing it with all this underground business. The two of them would look like ghosts by year's end.]

[teenyoda]

You know, no one's keeping you locked indoors. You can... go out. And stuff. If you want.

[Subtle: You should get outside more. Stop playing video games, Gendry.]

[bullhorned]

I know that. I do, sometimes, when I find the time for it. Besides, you've been living down there.

[Which had been more recent, lately. But was about to become nonexistant thanks to Stiles. With an apprenticeship in Troichean Beinn and a job in Cothromach, he was unlikely to ever find time to enjoy the sun!]