Forge One - (Audio)

[bullhorned]

[The forge had echoed loudly from the sound of hammer on steel. Such had been the case for a week now, ever since Gendry had discovered the forge and learned he had the freedom to use it and its materials. He had fallen in love immediately. At the Crossroads, he had suffered a shambling forge that he'd had to largely put back together himself. The forge in Harrenhal had been better, but he was one of many who worked it. Tohbo Mott's own forge came close, but it lacked the size of this one. It was expertly crafted and spoke of a skill he could only imagine. His old master had talked of the forgs in Qohor and Volantis and how great they were. He could only imagine them being like this one.

And so Gendry had set to work. His half finished sword was completed. The blade was made sharp and glimmering. He did not bother himself with anything but the most basic of hilt and crossguard. Why should he? The sword had been forged from the only steel he could acquire. Now he had superior metal to work with and he imagined how he might forge himself a sword of the finest steel as could be found. And then, armor. A new helmet. Greaves, gauntlets, breastplate, pauldrons, and gorget. And why not? They were generous in their provisions and Gendry though to himself that when he had finished, he would look more a knight than even Ser Loras Tyrell. And then he would be more than just King Robert's bastard son born in Fleabottom. He would be a self made knight, secure and confident in his own armor.

A week in the forge. Drenched in sweat and smoke, with nothing but a damning heat as company. It suited him fine. He was hard at work creating a new helmet, after all. Indeed, he was so utterly devoted to his craft that he had not even returned to his bedchambers. He found the hard ground of more comfort than the feather soft bed provided to him and the distant heat of a cooling forge like a friendly reminder of home. And though he could not claim to have friends among his fellow arrivals, there were at least people of note that concerned him. Even if some, like Arya Stark, thought him as little more than a stranger.

And so he tried the locket.]

[Audio]

I found a forge. A good one. Better than any I've ever seen, at least. These fairy folk might be a queer sort, but they make for fine things. So I've been doing the same.

[He paused and wondered at his own message. Did he want to offer to craft armor and swords for others? No. And certainly not for charity. He only wanted to arm himself and make himself a knight. Once he had, he'd only need the forge to maintain what he already had or replace what might be damaged. So he keeps himself from offering something foolish.]

If there's other smiths about, you might find the place of use. [And then he lingers after that, unsure if more should be said. And so stupidly he can be heard lingering. Breathing.

And then it cuts out.]

[Afterwards, Gendry resumes his work at the forge, where he has discarded his shirt and set himself to the first steps of his new helmet.]

(ooc: prose and brackets are both welcome.)

Comments

[happilyevermore]

[On most days she may have simply let the term stand, but considering how her last ball went? Her voice takes a somewhat sour note]

I am very far from a lady, sir. My is Danielle, no grand titles required.

[But none of that was his fault. So she pushes that away and quickly continues, without a pause]

You must care a great deal for your work, to continue it in such case.

[bullhorned]

[It does not go unnoticed that there is a certain disdain at the title. Gendry takes note of it, but says nothing of it.]

If I'm to be armed, better it be my own work then some other poor sot I've not met.

[happilyevermore]

Is it your intention to join this war our new monarchs would put before us?

[bullhorned]

I took their invitation. I was a daft fool to do it. But I'm not so craven as to hide from the war now.

[happilyevermore]

My own temptation, at least, did not detail the slaying of other such invited. Perhaps you may hold a different code, yet for my part common folk do not go to war of their own accord, but on the madness of kings. I would not call a desire for understanding before blood a craven act.

[bullhorned]

[This gives him pause. She hits on a point he'd been avoiding. Gendry did not serve any king. He had been a King's Man, serving a king who was a dead. One that had turned out to be his own father in a cruel twist of irony.

And now, he was prepared to fight for a king who had not bothered to reign over his own feast. Gendry soured as he let that sink in.]

You mean to talk to them?

[happilyevermore]

Is it so strange an idea? I know little of this divide between the Seelie and the Un, yet I cannot imagine the name of the castle one has been brought to so fundamentally changes the nature of man that we guests cannot be reasonable.

[bullhorned]

We might be reasonable, aye. Highborns aren't known for it. Where I come from, one king died and five rose up to take his place. They've been eat each other ever since. They ain't managed to make peace. Only beat the others into bloody ruin. How's it you expect these two kings to do the same?

[happilyevermore]

Kings fight a great many wars, true. They they still rule only by consensus of their people. They- we- are the very legs upon which they stand. What use would your sword and armor, however finely made, be with no strength with which to hold it?

[bullhorned]

[There is a long drawn out silence on the other end as Gendry tries to grasp his mind around a political concept that doesn't involve just killing people you don't like.

He fails.]

What?

[happilyevermore]

Is the concept so strange?

[bullhorned]

... I don't have a bloody clue what you just said.

[happilyevermore]

Kings are only men, sir knight. In truth, if not practice, they are as much servants of the people as the people are servants of them. The head of the nation means little if the body rots beneath it. That is not so strange an idea, is it?

[bullhorned]

[Kings as servants. Now there's a funny notion. A girl like this wouldn't last a week talking like this in King's Landing.]

The body of my nation's rotted out and gutted. The king ain't gone yet.

[happilyevermore]

Yet being the key word. Such a monarch cannot remain for long. History, if not philosophy, has shown us so. But beyond such, would you so quickly judge this new land as rotten? Must the state of the old dictate how we address the new?

[bullhorned]

[He shrugged.] These fairy folk asked me to serve. More than any other lord or king ever did. That makes them decent enough to me. No matter what your philosophy or history says.

[happilyevermore]

Courtesy is so rare a thing you are willing to slay those which you find no person quarrel with for the sake of it?

[bullhorned]

No. But once one of them comes at me with a sword, I don't figure they'll be too worried about why it is kings get to be kings to talk to me about it. I'll have to kill him before he kills me.

[happilyevermore]

An event far more likely should you march into their lands with sworn drawn yourself.

[bullhorned]

[He frowned, because somewhere along the way, he'd accidentally started siding with the fairy folk and he could not fathom how she'd managed that. It made him feel foolish. And rather than admit that he actually did not care to do anything for these fairy folk, he decided to avoid acknowledging it all.]

Gods, we must look like halfwitted fools, bickering over this nonsense with these lockets in our hands.

[happilyevermore]

Words given thought, regardless of the form they are sent, are superior to swords drawn with none, sir. Should you wish a debate in person, however, I fear you must wait. I am beyond the walls for the time being.

[bullhorned]

I don't want to debate nothing. [She's already confused him. Why would he subject himself to that again?] But where's it you gone to?

[happilyevermore]

Discussion is the soil in which culture grows-

[Just let him be for a while, Danielle. She lets out a soft breath.]

But information the water which nourishes it, so I've jointed the scouting party. I would see this land with my own eyes.

[bullhorned]

[Gendry always thought soil was the soil in which culture grows. But he's sure she'd manage to prove him wrong if he tried to suggest that.]

Have you seen anything interesting yet?

[happilyevermore]

I've learned a vast deal more about trees than I imagined possible.

[Elves, man]

Have you interest in seeing for yourself?