[SE] Tis better to give

It was not long after the tournament that the Tidebreaker was found in Haulani, stripped to the waist in spite of the cooler weather as he struck a small hammer with carefully controlled strength against a circle of gold on a small anvil. The metal had been poured into a filigree mold and he was now adjusting the curvature with a delicacy at odds with his muscular physique.

He had already been learning the smithcraft of the landfolk alongside their culinary arts. It was, perhaps, due to his long-standing fascination with fire as much as his desire to keep his family's traditions alive. And there was both a pleasure and a satisfaction in making something with his own hands that would, he hoped, bring joy as the tumultuous year headed towards its end.  

The forgemaster was another muscular man with dark skin and a shaved head who worked inside the shade of his shop. His larger hammer and tongs rang out in a pleasing percussive harmony with Hadama's lighter strikes as the two men worked without words, but occasionally traded tools or the use of the glowing forge to soften the metal of their creations before they applied their hammers once more.

Maea

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

It was the heat rolling off the forge that drew her in, initially. Blacksmithing had never held much interest for the young woman, it was simply a trade among many, better left to more capable hands than hers. As an ascended she had steered well clear of the perilous heat associated with it, unwilling to endager herself even by accident. And yet, it was that same heat that found her looming in the doorway today, fascinated by the musical ring of hammers and tongues as much as by the skilled precision with which they were wielded.

Unwilling to break their concentration, she waited for Hadama to take notice of her before waving at him with a little smile. "I didn't know you were a smith," she said, approaching with her hands behind her back to see him work. "What are you making?"

Maea

It was during a pause for a drink of water and to wipe the sheen of sweet from his brow that he noticed the pale woman nearby, and his expression lightened from its deep concentration as he nodded for her to come closer. "Maea," he rumbled in greeting. "Welcome." Though many Ancients had moved to the Grounds over the past year Torchline remained a popular vacation destination for the heat-loving race, especially in Deepfrost.

Emerald eyes sparkled as he nodded to the delicate tiara he was coaxing into shape. "I was a smith before I was a king," he revealed, testing the metal for temperature before lifting it in his large hands and examining it with a critical eye. "As my mother is. And my grandfather was." The Mer had not always had such open trade with the landfolk, and they had their own artisans and trade secrets in crafting what they needed. And techniques for ensuring it would survive beneath the waves in ways that human metalwork rarely needed to do. "I am making Flora a tiara." Satisfied with the shape, he put the hammer and tongs away and reached for several other tools and a padded clamp to hold the headgear in place.

"What has brought you to Torchline?" he asked, attention returning to Maea as he set up for the next stage of crafting.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

"Ah, three generations. That's impressive." That kind of accumulated skill and tradition came with its own pride, she knew that first hand. She had seen it within her own family, as her grandfather, father and brother poured sweat, blood and tears into tending their farm. They had been humble shepherds and farmers, true, but no less knowledgeable in their own field of expertise, and no less proud than any other tradesmen. Once, not so very long ago, the name Valair had meant something; even now she had her own pride in being part of that family, even though she was all that remained.

Leaning in close to examine a detail in the shape of the metal, Maea looked up at the question. She held up a stack of papers with a light grin. "Just work, I'm afraid. Thought I'd take some liberties with your notice boards - it's invitations to a ball I'm hosting at the Grounds. You should be getting a personal invite soon enough."

Though truth be told, she was far more interested in the blacksmith than her original plans. "Is it difficult to work metal?" she wondered, while tucking the notes away into her coat. "Can I try?" Unless he was too busy, of course; she could always come back some other time.

Maea

He inclined his head in acceptance of her compliment, his expression serene yet somehow holding a sense of quiet pleasure at the recognition. He could not know her own family history, but he appreciated the sincerity of her words nonetheless. Of course, then he had gone and gotten himself into politics and taken up cooking as a hobby, but he still maintained his skills at the forge when he could spare a moment, and the current season seemed to allow for a brief space to breathe.

At least, so far.

He tilted the tiara so Maea could see it more clearly, and in turn he took a peek at the papers she brandished. "Of course. Please post them," he rumbled, surprised but pleasantly so at the idea of a ball. "Will it be open to the Mer?"

Ah, but then she was peering at the metal and Hadama's emerald eyes twinkled as he nodded. "Yes. And yes." After a moment's thought he delved back into the forge for a thin bar of silver and a hammer suited for it, offering both to Maea. "Iron is a hogfish to work. Hardheaded. Stubborn. Requiring a great deal of muscle. Gold is a butterflyfish. Fragile and easily damaged, even alloyed. It takes skill to work without ruining it. But silver and copper are good to learn on. They are soft enough to coldforge and cut." He showed her how to hold the hammer and how to strike the bar on the anvil to begin flattening it, then handed the implement over while he steadied the silver with the tongs. "Is there something you want to make?"

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

Flashing him a pleased grin at first, Maea grimaced with a guilty stab of worry at the question. "That... will be difficult, I'm afraid. The major waterways are frozen over this time of year, and the cold means the ball needs to be kept at least partially indoors. If you think any would visit the Atheneum though, it would be easy to extend the feast there?" Tilting her head aside she gave him a questioning look. From what she understood it wasn't every mer that could teleport freely between bodies of water.

Gazing curiously at the tools and the piece of metal Hadama brought for her, she listened to his explanation. Picking up a hammer, she weighed it in her hand, thinking about what to make.
"I'm... not sure," she murmured. "There is someone I'd like to give a gift to... but I don't know what he would like."

Setting the papers aside, she tried the hammer experimentally against the bar a few times, to get a feel for it. It took a lot of precision to make it land where she wanted.

Maea

Ah. Hadama's expression did not change and he simple inclined his head in acceptance of the news that Mer would not be able to attend. Outside of Torchline it was not unusual for such things... and, in truth, few enough of the Mer were able or inclined to travel so far beyond the coastline's shores. It wasn't always fair to expect the other races to cater to guests who might not even come. "Mmn. Aquaportation is... uncommon," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice. "And the Grounds are a very long swim away. It is... unlikely any would be able to make the journey." His brows drew down slightly, the ghost of a frown marring his features. "Especially with the corruption fouling the waters beyond the Feverlands."

He made room for her at the anvil and watched her position herself, quiet as she practiced. Ease of creation would come with muscle memory, and the only way to obtain it was what she was doing now. Her grip was good, and he noted the strength of her blows with satisfaction. "Hmm. Does he wear much jewelry?" His thoughtful tone had turned professional; not the voice of the King, or even of Maea's friend, but of a craftsman presented with an interesting challenge.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

She felt bad about it, and the frown as subtle as it was made her vow to herself to do better about inclusivity in the future. It was a major part of why she wanted the ball at all - but she had to admit that the location and season made it difficult to cater to everyone. Much as ancients would struggle to attend functions in Halo. But it shouldn't become habit to think that way.
And the Void problem didn't help, either.
"That's unfortunate," she said, and meant it. "Perhaps next time, then." She hoped there would be a next time - she'd been having quite a lot of fun arranging for this ball.

Leaving behind thoughts of politics and work for a while for the chance to learn how to tame metal, Maea was glad that Hadama didn't comment her work. Pausing after a while to stretch out her back and shake the vibration from her fingers, she had to think about the question. Trying to recall what a person had been wearing over years and years wasn't the easiest - she rarely if ever paid attention to people's fashion sense anyway.
"Mh, not much, I don't think. Maybe some necklaces... Oh, but he did keep a ring I gave him once. So... maybe that?" She looked up to gauge the king's reaction, hoping it wasn't too big of a challenge right off the bat.

Maea

"Indeed," he agreed, dipping his head in acceptance of her willingness to consider the Mer in the future. The thought of Kaiden at a ball of any kind was certainly an... interesting image. Andromeda might once have been a shining jewel at such an event, but her fear of the Void made it unlikely that she would leave Torchline for any reason these days. Nysadeia, perhaps... but again, the difficulty in travel made it unlikely that the young mermaid would wish to put herself through the discomfort of the journey. "Next time."

Once he was satisfied that Maea was learning the basic technique, Hadama went to collect a few items for the next stage of his own gift. He returned with a small jar of vinegar and a brush, a copper blow pipe, a small alcohol lamp, and a second jar that held some light grey metal filings. As they spoke he cleaned the tiara carefully and then brushed vinegar over several locations. He set it on a charcoal block and lit the lamp so the metal could begin to heat while he considered the information Maea gave him. "Hmm. Will this be to replace that ring? Or to connect to it?"

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

Blinking, she looked up. "Uh - no, not replace it. It was a magic ring, I wouldn't want him to trade it away for anything." Especially considering the heartfelt wish that had gone with the gift. "I was thinking just... another ring. No deeper meaning or anything! It's just... if he kept the first one, maybe he'll keep this one too." A touch of color began to creep up her cheeks, turning the tips of her ears pink.

Flustered, she returned to hammering away at the piece of silver; the hammer was beginning to feel better in her hand, and while she was no genius she was beginning to grasp how to make the metal move the way she wanted beneath the blows.

Maea

He did not react to the assertion that the ring was just a ring, keeping his thoughts hidden behind emerald eyes as he nodded in acceptance of the explanation. Of the blush he made no comment, though his emerald eyes sparkled as he glanced at the pale woman and considered the rather unmistakable tinge of color in her fairest skin. "Indeed," he rumbled. He left it there for the moment as he nodded at the bar of silver that Maea was slowly working into a thinner, longer, and more flexible length. "A ring is one of the simpler pieces to make. Hm. What does the first ring look like? Perhaps you can make this one to stack with it."

Using tweezers that looked almost comically delicate in his large hands, Hadama plucked a few metal filings from the jar and set them atop the heated gold. He placed the empty setting atop them so that they were sandwiched and then took up his small copper pipe and the alcohol lamp and blew with great care through the opening of the blowpipe to direct and amplify the lamp's heat onto the filings.

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

"Uh, it's plain and wide, and it was a few sizes too big for me," she recalled, splaying the fingers of her hand and appraizing them thoughtfully. "It seems to fit Harper pretty well though. Not sure I can match the size well enough..."

Thinking about it wouldn't get her anywhere though. Following the steps as Hadama instructed, time wiled away to the ring of hammers on metal and the steady breath of the forge. At some point she paused to set aside the coat and roll up her sleeves, and found her patience surprisingly suited to the finer adjustments. That it was an art to it was growing apparent, but though her fire magic and heat resistance were advantages any smith might envy, Maea frowned when she eventually held the finished product in her hand.

"It's too big," she sighed. "And it's crooked." Uneven, lopsided, with awkward toolmarks and dents. The file had taken off all the sharp edges, but it remained a far cry from what the har imagined.

Maea

"...Harper...?" The name - the question - came after a long silence, the word rumbling up from the King's chest, slow and quiet. "...Is he well?"

His eyes remained focused on his own task, his expression unchanging as he delicately used tweezers and patience to position each setting and solder it into place. Whatever emotions passed through his heart at hearing the name of his former co-ruler and once-closest friend were hidden in the silence that he worked in as he went back to filing and polishing his own gift. The tiara began to gleam under his ministrations.

Maea's frustration drew his attention to her once more and he moved over to consider the ring. "Heat," he said at least. "To anneal the silver and smooth out the inconsistencies. But first, to fix the size..." He went back into the forge and exchanged a few words with his host before returning with a dowel rod, a jeweler's saw, and a clamp. "This was his size before," he explained, offering the dowel and showing how it served as the size of a finger.

He took the ring from her and set it on the dowel, which went in the clamp. "Cut here. And here," he showed her, indicating a small slice from the bottom of the ring. "Then we will heat the metal to soften it, and hammer it to fit the rod. Then you will use solder to seal it again."

Down and out, and out of luck, we're spinning but the needle's stuck

Looking up at the question, she was surprised at first, but quickly realized that Harper would be a well known figure here, ruler as he had been. If she blushed deeper from letting slip the name of her friend, it was hard to see as she bent her head over the ring.

And it was not as easy of a question to answer as it should be. Maea sighed. "Physically yes. Mentally... I'm not sure. Probably not? But he's trying. Last time I saw him he smiled more like he meant it."

Plying the ring with her fire, she used the saw and the hammer to adjust the size, before beginning to erase the signs that it had ever been broken. But then she stopped herself. Twisted the ring between her fingers, before digging into a pocket. A lump of blueish steel from her own molten tiger shift nestled next to a tiny lump of gold someone had bartered to her nestled in her palm, and without really knowing if it would work she abruptly cut the band apart in more places. Jagged, haphazard, until it had become a puzzle to reassemble.

"Are you close?" she wondered, even as she began to mend the piece with licks of gold and steel. Lopsided was fine. Crooked and uneven was fine too. What would ultimately matter was that the ring would hold together... however imperfectly.

Maea