Where Vakhanor tread work was soon to follow him. Hired to help train the apprentices while their masters were away the smith sat behind the anvil of an open sided shop with no walls, a series of benches filled with half rusted and some overused tools while trying to teach two apprentices his trade. Not a brilliant teacher, the smith had difficulty instructing the two young lads who scurried around the shop, back and forth grabbing their tools and looking dumbfounded when Vakhanor told them they got it wrong.
Two both very different people only one of the two was really motivated and listening while the other just picked up whatever he could find. It quickly became clear to Vakhanor that the change of pace was swift for the two and the only thing that kept them from rebelling against his orders was their fear against his rumoured temper. Among the smiths Vakhanor was known for being diligent and wanting to get things done, which given the circumstances; although they were not the most lax of all the apprentices in the Iron Hand it was likely they were not used to having so much to do.
In the brief meeting he had between their mentor Vakhanor garnered little knowledge of what they did and did not know and thus started with getting them to name the tools. If either of them were unaware of it, he would recite its function and what it was better used for. With more jobs stacked up behind each other thank Vakhanor would usually have in a week the smith looked at the ledger that dated back to almost a month ago. Either the man was lazy or the Skyriders were hard maintenance, but there was far too much for the smith to do alone. No wonder he was trying to train two others to help him out. As much as it was an inconvenience at the time, the lack of work being done in this place meant more for Oberyk's business and eventually his own. The more the Skyriders got impatient with their own smiths, the sooner they would come into the city and ask for his work.
Unknown to his hands the other smiths tools felt weary in his palms, worns down and some even splinteredhis fingers. It appeared that although this smith had a reputation for making decent wares, his tools took the beating for it. Although a loathsome task, in order to even function properly within the new environment Vakhanor had taken the time over the past trial to mend them into a working condition.
"Tools lesson over. Driff, get me the mold for the hilts will ya?" Vakh requested of the bright eyed, skinny looking blonde that had just finished placing one of the tools back in its place.
"Sure!" driff exclaimed excitedly, rushing between the tables with a puzzled expression.
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yeah-uh."
"Stacked underneath the workbench with the ingots."
"Got it!"
"Good!" Vakhanor rolled his eyes and looked over to the young man with a small smile, "Know which one?"
The boy bit his lip and looked back over to the sword that Vakhanor held in his hand and eventually chose which mold he judged to the correct one "This one. Shortsword, going between long and short because the hilt it slightly longer and you can switch the weight between one or two hands" the boy said lifting the stonework onto the anvil.
"Good. You wearing down the anvil now boy?" Vakhanor grinned and put down the sword to shift it onto the table beside him.
"Kiyn, how are the coals looking?" he asked the other boy, who was a chubbier with short brown hair. Vakhanor had assigned the poor lad to keeping the coals fed and ever since the young man had been working as hard as he could to put his weight to good use by shifting the bellow.
"Getting there Sir."
"Make sure to give it a little time to breathe, you holding up okay?"
"Yeah," the boy answered too focused on his task to really tell the truth, he looked tired even if he was sucking it up like a brave little man. It had taken time to garner their respect but they got at it eventually.
Just about to head back to work, movement suddenly caught the corner of Vakhanor's eye. Turning to see who was approaching, his eyes grew wide when he saw a woman with beautiful auburn hair and eyes filled that shone like crystaline waters. His heart almost skipped a beat, she was the same woman who only two trials ago lay at the points of his knife, forced to answer questions or face the pain that his vengeance inflicted upon her. Engraved into his mind he could not rid himself of the memory of her naked body laid out before him, vulnerable with tears streaming down her innocent cheeks. Flustered and embarrassed by the image he tried to look away as a crimson flush entered his features, how could he face her now? As a customer at this shop there was little he could do to avoid talking to her.
Regaining what little dignity he had left to offer he buried the guilt along with his pain "Welcome," he greeted with a gentle and sympathetic smile, "Baroness Warrick right? heard a few things. What do we owe the presence of a noble?"
Inside the forge it was hot and strange smells burned in her nostrils, causing her to stay nearer the door, even if this was a smell she swore she had known before, it was difficult to get used to. One of the boys inside smiled at her and just as she opened her mouth to speak, "a war axe," she managed before the words were halted by another. Blue eyes fixed, she stared at him, taking the measure of the man, his height and build, and the words that he spoke. He knew of her? But she hadn't told anyone who she was... It was possible one of Jared's old friends had noticed her and word had got out that she was staying, but there had been no sidelong glances or wayward looks one might expect from those nervous about sharing their space with a noble, the same the two apprentices gave her now. What had he heard?
The events of a few days prior all came rushing back, and as she stood, distant and growing pale while the blood drained from her cheeks, the young woman edged back towards the door and turned to step outside. She gasped suddenly and went to ground, kneeling so that her hands were in the dirt, keeping her grounded, just a means of fighting off the dizzy spell that had taken her so suddenly. What had they heard? She had refused to speak about her latest experience to anyone and had made no report of how or where she had acquired the nasty cut on her left hip. Lazuli closed her eyes and listened to the world, the sounds of hammers shaping hot steel, men on their horses, and somewhere over the wall, the distant call of birds.
The stables, she could go to the stables first and pick up a horse for the road now that her funds had come through at the local bank, the money she had picked up that morning, burning a hole in her pocket. On her feet, she thought she heard movement from inside the forge and ran in the direction of the stables, her wound soon putting a stop to that, though tucked away in the crowd she felt less obvious and wove through the throng of knights and Skyriders to her destination, where she was free to duck under a makeshift fence and make her way to the back where she could look over some of the cheaper options in peace, and hide from her demons.
Bewildered by the woman's reaction Vakhanor wiped his hands as he watched her back onto the street in fear, had he said to much? In the back of his mind he knew that she was injured, running wouldn't get her far even if she wanted too. In most circumstances he would have little reason to chase her, he still did other than the hopes of returning a lost customer. Chivalry? No, he'd lost that years ago.
"You scared her away Vakh," Driff blurted, his eyes following her as she left.
"I do that to women," the smith replied, placing down the rag. "Look after the shop for a trill boys, don't do anything stupid."
Following after her Vakhanor ran for a short while until the crowd encased her, temporarily shrouding his vision. Vakhanor hated crowds and had never run after a woman in his life, yet for whatever reason his instincts told him he was an idiot if he didn't. Sifting through the dozens of moving faces, he searched for her. His eyes occasionally looking to the floor to see if he could find any sign of a trail of blood. Eventually he found it.
"Wait!" he called, climbing after her "I meant no harm! Please, I know a guy. Mojubu, fuckin' retarded name I know" his hastened breath began to slow "Worked for the military. An admirer, loves the way you look in a dress." He spoke of himself. The half-blood knew for a fact that he couldn't lie to save his life and if he had been honest with himself he didn't want to, so he resorted to as much of the truth as he was allowed to give her. Maybe the man who had worked in the Sirothelle military all of those years ago would have made better decisions, but he didn't. For what little he'd seen of the woman, In their final moments of meeting he had admired her courage and he still did. She was also hot in a nightgown. Slumping back onto the cobblestone concrete, fatigue dictated Vakhanor could no longer run "Forgive me?" he asked.
The man had given chase and though half of his words had been lost to background noise, she could have sworn he had said the word dress. When he finally caught up to her, he sat, his fitness bowing to age, she assumed, or poor diet. Lazuli took pause outside the stables and looked at the man sat on the cobblestone path catching his breath before she did something very unfitting of her status and joined him, sinking down to his level with her back against the smelly building behind her.
She watched him in silence for a time, and the small knot in her brown soon softened and disappeared altogether. The experience of being tortured had made her feel small and more alone in the world than she had ever been before, but the way he looked at her now made her feel all too present, as if he knew her, and she found that frightening, why would anyone speak of or admire her?
"I need a weapon," Lazuli spoke softly, but it seemed there was some confidence there, a mask hiding the fact that the world terrified her. "A war axe, a horse," a hand went up to gesture behind her, "I need to get home to Warrick, do you know any mercenaries for rent? I don't fancy my chances on the road alone." She had ignored his desire to be forgiven, for she didn't know what he sought forgiveness over.
Time slowly passed by as two wounded souls sat in the quiet company of one another, letting trills or maybe bits go by without the urge to run anywhere. Quick to catch his breath the smith brushed a tired hand against his face and leaned forward, supporting an elbow with each of his kneecaps as his eyes studied her "One I can make for you within a few breaks if I put my back into it, the other I fear I might fall off," he explained, turning his face to wearily eye the horses; riding was not his favoured past time.
Vakhanor's shifted his gaze as he caught the curious glances of the people passing by, eyeing the strange pair with curiosity. For those that had been watching, it was strange for a man to plead with a woman and had garnered a small amount of attention "I scarcely know anybody here, but if it please you. I would be willing to help you find one," he offered, at least maybe he could find small recompense for what he had done. He knew that helping the woman find an axe or even a mercenary to keep her safe would not forgive the trauma he had inflicted upon her, but it was better than doing nothing.
Pungent with the fresh aroma manure, the common pong of the stables finally reached his nose and it took a while for Vakhanor to adjust. He was not used to the smell of animals and other than Bjorn he had never raised a creature in his life, even then he didn't miss battling the foul horror that was the kid's diaper. Uncomfortable and unwilling to stay under the watchful eye of strangers the smith stood and offered his hand to help the lady from the ground. He might have thought it odd that a noble would join him on the ground but after meeting Elyna his expectations of them had changed significantly. Were all nobles so carefree? It bewildered him to think that maybe the rumours people had of them weren't true, that maybe they weren't as stuck up as he thought if not for the tyranny of the boy king, "to the shop?"
Lazuli took the offered hand and let the stranger help her to her feet before dusting herself off. "My name is Lazuli," she told the man, though as he seemed to have already heard of her, she doubted he needed her name, only, she hoped that in offering it up, he might give her his in turn. The young noble woman would like to put a name to those eyes, the ones that cut through her like fire on ice. "If your work is to take you some time, Smith, I would much prefer to spend mine more wisely than melting in that shop of yours. I can stop by after purchasing a horse and speaking to my father's old commander about joining one of his knights on the road home."
There it was, she thought, she sounded brave but in reality, just speaking to him made her stomach turn in knots, leaving her palms and the back of her neck sweaty. "I'm not very strong, but I need an axe I can learn to wield in one hand, I fight with a shield you see... It's a requirement of all Skyriders," the title mocked her, Lazuli knew she would never make the ranks of Skyrider, that even now she was considered too old to squire for anyone, it would be best if she packed it in and returned to the farm to do what she was good at, growing pumpkins and potatoes.
"You're kind," she offered then, eyes pointed at her feet, her right arm clutched in her left hand, "to offer to work on this for me, can I stop by again after lunch?" She still didn't feel like eating, but it would give the smith the time he needed to forge the weapon from scratch.
'I'm not strong,' the corners of his mouth curled into a gentle smile as the words echoed through his head "Then right now you don't have to be," he said, eyes cast down toward her hip. Her wound had begun to seep through her clothing, leaving small blood marks that must have leaked through and scattered in the rush of the wind as she'd run from him.
"Can somebody please grab me a fresh pale of water?" he called out, peering around the inside of the stables to see if one of the hands was around. Stronger from inside the raw must of horse attacked his nostrils, holding his breath against the smell he swore he'd never ride one of the creatures again. "Sure!" a brooming stable boy was the first to answer. Dropping his work the young man quickly dashed off to find a bucket and returned with half a pale of water. "Alright there sir? thirsty?" the boy asked, with an innocent and relaxed smile as his eyes drifted between Lazuli and Vakhanor.
"Nah, just need a little bit of water for the lady here. Thank you mate, here..." Vakhanor took the pale and tossing the boy a gold nel for his trouble "cheers kid." Bright eyed and excited for the extra little bit of money in his pocket the boy scuttled away back to his job with elated enthusiasm, sweeping the hay into a corner.
Gently lowering the pale to the ground Vakhanor returned his attention to Lazuli and removed the shirt from his back, ripping it neatly into two sides and folding them into makeshift cloths. A small gesture, it wouldn't be enough to heal the wound but maybe it could stop the bleeding for a little while. Guilt tugged at his heartstrings as he doused one piece of the material in water then gently lifted it against her waist "You should go find someone to take care of that while you wait," he uttered affectionately, allowing her to take the towel from his hand as he offered up the other.
"Come see me in a few breaks, I'll make sure to have the axe for you. I've gotta get back to the boys before the ruin something, get that healed and I'll see you soon."
____________________________________________________________________
Returned to the shop Vakhanor waved over to Driff and Kiyn who surprisingly appeared to be doing work like they were supposed to. Kiyn was sat next to the bellow, still drawing and feeding the coals while Driff got to work on sharpening a great axe with a whetstone. Impressed the older smith smiled and ran over "Anything drastic happen while I was gone?"
A guilty look passed between the two boys for moment "Well... there might have been a lady looking to buy a buckler. I told her we had one but I didn't know the price so I charged her ten nel for it," Driff quickly explained. Alarmed that the boy had managed to sell a buckler to a woman for the price of ten gold nel Vakhanor couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to pull it off, it was over twice the price for one.
"Did I choose the wrong price?" Driff asked, hopeful.
"Yup, you ripped her off," the older smith laughed, shifting his attention to the empty space on the wall "make sure if you see her again to tell her that you're sorry and you're master says he'll return the money if needs to. It's bad business."
Glad to know he was let of lightly the other boy Kiyn looked up from his drawings and addressed his teacher "Hey Vakhanor, was that woman really a noble?" a pause came from the boy as Vakhanor turned to look at him with a raised brow "and where's your shirt gone?"
"Yes she was and I had to use it to help someone," Vakhanor replied, why did children have to ask so many damned questions?
"She was pretty, do you fancy her?" Driff added with a wide grin "Is that why your shirt is gone?"
"Oi, enough of that. She's a customer."
"But you ran after her, why?"
"She was hurt"
"From what?"
"No idea."
"Liar."
"You like her don't you Vakh?"
"Enough! One of you get me the mold for a hand axe, I don't think she has the strength to carry a two-handed." Tried for his patience Vakhanor worked together with the boys to create the base of the axe. Banned from using the forge Vakh taught the boys the temperatures for melting different types of steel. Between teaching the two boys and actually getting work done, it took him almost two breaks to accurately weld the blade, hinge it against the wood, secure and sharpen it into a simple, decent axe for Lazuli to use.
His thoughts of her eventually returned to him and looking back on it, past the guilt. For once he'd chased after a woman and hadn't been left behind for it, she hadn't run and she hadn't ignored him like he had expected to. Was it possible that there was in fact courage in her despite her apparent aversion to him? Sworn to his heart that he would do whatever he could from there on to make sure her life became easier Vakhanor convinced himself he'd have to put it behind him. His task for her had been done, he wanted to see her. Patiently waiting beside the anvil the smith raised his arm against steels and hammered away, sorting through the long ledger of projects still left for him to finish
It had been a long day and night and Elyna had returned with Vakhanor to the city, with one of the spare horses. Both the gelding and Ember were temporarily housed at the stables and Elyna had taken the opportunity to catch up with her Major and arrange a date to return to duty, the 50th of Ymiden, at which point she would explain her position and request a transfer of duties. Simple actions. She had to eat, she had to work and she wanted to keep busy. Activity was her single, remaining refuge from the world. Distraction from the growing sense of loneliness that had always been destined to accompany Malcolms’ departure.
The Training Grounds were busy and the bustling noise of practise was an irritation, on agitated nerves. She couldn’t join in with them as she would have liked. Training was an invitation to an old life. Elyna could admit, privately to herself, that she was afraid to open those doors even a little. Fists clenched with unvented frustration, Elyna had drifted away from the practise arena and back towards the barracks. Vakhanor had explained that he’d be at the Iron Hand forge that day and she intended to bid him a good day and return to the cottage.
Rounding the corner beside the stables, the Skyrider halted her steps. Elyna was stunned by the sight that met her eyes, Vakhnanor vanished around the corner, shirtless and left behind a small woman with dark blonde hair. Elyna tilted her head to oneside, watching the other woman a moment before she approached and crouched down, the loose sleeves of her white shirt fell down from her elbows to her wrists and she shoved them up again, roughly, only for them to drop again.
“Excuse me,” the womans’ voice was soft and carried beneath the general current of noise. There was something about the girl before that spoke of strength, and fear. Qualities that the Skyrider knew too well. Maybe it was in the set of her shoulders, and the way she held her head. In a few ways, she reminded Elyna of a wild horse, proud, strong, dangerous to back into a corner, and yet…somehow vulnerable. It was a lot to consider, or perhaps project onto a complete stranger. But then Ely was also certain that she recognised the young woman. A fellow Noble? Not a Burhan…
“I am Elyna Burhan,” she introduced herself for the first time in her life, without prompting, “Sergeant of Xiur Skyriders…I can’t help but feel our paths have crossed before...can I be of any assistance?” She was invading the woman’s’ carefully guarded space and made sure to keep her distance. Elyna had introduced herself in the faint hope that a common bond would provide a tenuous connection. Too late she remembered the mark on her forehead and scrambled suddenly, running nervous fingers through hair to flatten her fringe. Anxious she peered after Vakhanor’s retreating back. How did he know this woman? Had he upset her? It seemed unlikely. "If you've asked the Smith for a commission, you'll not be disappointed," she offered a small smile, proud of Vakh's craft.
Lazuli averted her gaze as the man peeled the shirt from his back to tear in two for her benefit. She hadn't noticed the bleed and his pointing it out only embarrassed her further. Hesitantly she took the rag and watched him go, agreeing that she would see him at his shop in a few hours, and only after she had figured out how to get home. Seconds had passed if that before Elyna approached her, and unable to look the woman in the eye, Lazuli instead stood silently while the Skyrider acknowledged her and addressed herself. Burhan, she recognised the name and peered up at the noble woman, eyes glazed over with threatening tears. Elyna, her grandmother had introduced them once a few years ago at a gathering in Burhan, though Lazuli couldn't quite remember the reason for House Warrick's attendance, the Burhan noble had been a few years older, and thus, had her own friends outside of Lazuli's circle.
The young Warrick sucked in a breath and was surprised by the pathetic little whimper that escaped her, arms thrown about the noble woman as she all but fell into a tight embrace. She had felt so alone since they had stolen her from her bed in Warrick days ago, tortured her, and let her go with no means of getting home. Elyna was a stranger, but one she could trust at least, their houses after all had been friends since Rynmere's founding, and she was engaged to the woman's uncle, the very reason she had been tortured in the first place.
"I want to go home," she stole another shaky breath against the Elyna's shoulder and balled a fist against her eye to wipe away a stray tear. "My name is Lazuli Warrick," she managed, it was the first time she had given away her name since being captured, "I just want to go home."
To say Elyna was stunned by the sudden embrace would have been an understatement. Shocked she didn’t move, except to place careful hands around the smaller woman. Something had happened, something desperate. All she could do was nod, “I’ll take you home,” she promised. What else could she do? Elyna had experience despair, loneliness, fear and threat from the world. She could understand the younger woman’s misery and expression. How many trials since she’d been attacked and dragged into an alleyway? Maybe, when she’d run into Qaerris, she’d carried the same expression as the blonde.
Lazuli Warrick? The embrace eased a little and Elyna sat back on her haunches. She pushed a strand of hair behind the noble womans’ ear and tucked it there, safely. The name rang a bell, was there a twin? There seemed to be a whole host of Warricks around these days and the Skyrider offered a faint, smile in an attempt to be friendly, “your…brother? Cousin Rafael is my Squire,” she explained hoping to continue building the ties and ease some of Lazuli’s distress.
The noble stood up and extended a hand down to Lazuli. She looked about the same age, if not a little bit younger. Lady Warrick? No…A single thought rang in her mind and she grinned, rather than blush with embarrassment, “your grace,” she bowed her head a little in respect, “home is Warrick? I have a spare horse…” Elyna ran her tongue over her top teeth, considering. No one would miss her if she traveled to Warrick for a few trials.
“My home is just beyond Andaris…you can rest and I can prepare the horses for a longer journey or…” she pushed her hands into a pocket with a shrug, it would take some effort but an alternative was possible, “or we can leave today…” she had a feeling the woman wanted to get out of the city.
