eachdraidh | 001 — video ( seelie )

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001 — video ( seelie )

Hullo.

[ And the smiling, freckled face of one Ginny Weasley is all up in this locket. She's clearly outside, soaking in the sunshine as she pulls back so her face isn't filling up the view. ]

There's been loads of talk lately about learning how to fight. Well, fight in other ways, proper swords and all. I reckon I got by all right with my wand during the worm fiasco but I can't deny that's a good thought. Merlin knows I've considered it. [ She laughs. ] Especially since I can imagine my mum in fits over me swinging a sword around.

[ She pauses, then, biting her lip around a thoughtful smile before scrambling forward (carefully) to hang her locket off a low branch of a tree in the bailey. She's sprawled (perhaps rather unladlylike, given the gown she's still getting used to wearing) on a stone bench, a broomstick in her lap, and she looks positively pleased about it. ]

But this is what I'm really excited about. I've had it since the fighting was over, as a gift... [ But she was still a little too banged up to use it. BUT NOW. ] It'd be nice, don't you think, to explore this place a bit? Beyond the castle. I'd love to see what's out there, properly out there.

[ Ginny releases the broom and it rises gently into the air. She touches it fondly. ]

Can't say I fancy flying in a dress, though. Am I allowed trousers here?

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[ She looks bewildered for half a second then bursts into laughter, brushing the hair back from her shoulders, wand still in hand. ]

Nothing. I like them fine. Just get in the way when I want to go flying.

Do they? [He feels uneasy about her laughter, because it seems distinctly like she might be mocking him. But it's hard to be upset when she's smiling.] That one you have seems nice enough, though. It's pretty like.

Yeah? [ She looks down like she's forgotten what it looks like. ] Thanks very much. Never had anything like it before, I've got to say.

[ Ginny looks back out over her shoulder, to the door, the rest of the castle beyond. ]

You seem more familiar with this place than I am. Forges and swords and different clothes. I spoke with the queen a while back, didn't know if I had to bow or curtsy.

[He shrugged.]

Not really. I've never been in a castle before. I lived outside one, though, all my life. From Fleabottom to the Street of Steel. I know my forge, but that's all. [He looks to her.] But you have your magic, don't you? Just like them fairy folk do.

I was born with it. But magic can be different.

[ She fiddles with her wand as she speaks, thinking. ]

I'm starting to learn that here. There's one way of doing magic back home, wands and potions and plants... But the sort here, there's something different about it. No wands that I've seen. [ She thinks back to what he said, curious. ] You've been doing this for very long, though? Working with metal?

[He shrugs and looks at the basin, where the water is no doubt hot, but the shield about manageable. Her explanation about magic doesn't make much sense to him, because he knew so little already. But she changed the subject, so he was eager to not dwell on it.]

Since my mum died. Eight, maybe nine. Seems to me about as long as I can remember, most times.

[ Seems like most people she's met here haven't got the same sort of family she has. It makes her a little sad but it isn't her place to comment. ]

D'you like it? [ She gestures to the cooling shield. ] You seem quite good at it. I mean—as far as I know, which isn't very much.

[He fetched the shield out with a pair of tongs, then dropped it on an empty surface.]

It's all I've ever done. I like it well enough. As you say, I've got a knack for it. [Content the shield is cool, he picks it up to head outside the forge.]

[ She follows, snatching up her broom from where it rests by the entrance and slinging it back onto her shoulder as they walk. ]

Ever made anything special? Magic shield aside.

[Out in the bailey, he looks for a good spot for the shield. He decides that in front of a tree should do nicely and he leans it up against that. After that, he steps back to join her.]

I made a helmet once that wasn't so bad. I'll make another before long. [He glances at her and nods. It's all her, now.]

[ Her broom gets set down on the grass by her feet and twirls her wand between the fingers of her right hand, thinking of what spell to best use. On the one hand, she thinks using something fairly harmless would be good in case it deflects in completely the wrong direction; on the other, if it's a shield meant to repel magic and protect who wields it then she ought to use something stronger to see if it can hold up.

She tests it first with a harmless spray of gold sparks that tumble off the reflective surface. Then she tries a Tickling Hex which manifests itself in a jet of purple light. Finally, a Stunning Spell, a scarlet streak of magic that might knock the shield back a bit but ultimately leave it undamaged if that is, indeed, what the shield is meant to do. All cast with neat flicks of her wrist or, the case of the last one, a sweep of her arm and a direct jab. ]

[All the while he watched. What she did not know, was that he'd been ready at any second to pull her behind him should the magic be misdirected. But each one seemed to fly away harmlessly in other directions. He nods approvingly and even seems to smile. There is a certain pride in knowing he will soon be shouldering a shield unlike any other.]

Gods, it really does work, don't it?

[ And she'd been ready to cast a Shield Charm so it's good to know they're both prepared for most anything. When the last spell shoots into the sky and fizzles into nothing in the air, she lowers her wand, suitably impressed. ]

And not a scratch on it. [ Ginny shakes her head, grinning. ] You'll be all right with it, I think. Like a proper knight, yeah?

[Content she was done in her tests, he went to fetch the shield. He held it out in the light just enough to be sure no harm had come to it. He was pleased when he saw no such thing.]

Aye, I suppose I will be. Only, there ain't no knights in Westeros with a shield like this one will be.

Best make a helmet that matches, then.

[ She returns her wand to its holster, bending down to pick up her broom again. ]

That's where you're from? Westeros?

Aye. You heard of it?

[Most hadn't and he expected her not to have either. But she had phrased her question in a way to make him think that perhaps she had.]

No, sorry. I'm from England, myself.

Never heard of it. [Or had he? Other people had told him where they were from, but he rarely cared for that sort of thing.] I've got a helmet, though. Almost done, at least. I ain't yet shaped it the way I want it to look.

[ She raises an eyebrow, throwing her broom back onto her shoulder. ]

Yeah? And what's that?

A bull. [He was already going back to the forge, seeming to simply expect her to follow him.] I made one like it before, but it was stolen from me. I'd meant to steal it back one day, but as I can't do that here, I figure I'll need to make another now.

[ She does, because hey, what else is she going to do for now? ]

Do bulls mean anything where you come from?

[ As lions do for Gryffindor or a badger for Hufflepuff. ]

No. It's not the sigil of any high lord. It only means something to me. Mayhaps I'll be a famous knight some day, then it will mean something. But now, I'm the only bull.

[He sets the shield on an empty table, then turns back around on her.]

Does it mean anything where you're from?

Not specifically, but it could. [ She thinks of her Patronus, of any of her friends' and how they manifest—she's wondered what the horse means for her, the dog for her brother (their father's weasel seems obvious). ] They're strong, though.

[ Then she smiles, bumping her shoulder to his as they walk. ]

Not a bad thing to have on a crest, right?

[He'd been content in the explanation. But his own smile, small as it was, faded entirely. His eyes, ever suspicious, looked to her. It was not that he disliked Ginny, but comradery was hard won with him, and he'd learned that only a fool is quick to trust. He enters the forge and takes a path that eliminates the possibility of her walking beside him. There, on a table, he looks at his helmet with its two protruding horns and featureless facing.]

The other boys said I was bullheaded. They meant it to be a bad thing.

[ Oh, really, Gendry. This is where they differ, of course, because while Ginny doesn't trust easily, she's always amiable, warm, approachable. It's the family she grew up with and the friends she surrounds herself with at school, the nature of her being; and there is always something about fighting side by side with someone, covering one another's backs.

Still, she isn't an idiot, she notices immediately that she's done or said something to irritate him. So she studies the helmet then glances up to him, one brow quirked. ]

Well, I can see that too. [ Dry, so dry. ] But there's more to a person than just one thing.

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