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edenfallingSome more noodling around for "Sunbright and Shadowfall," that Sleeping-Beauty-with-lesbians-and-world-conquest story I mentioned a while back. This is a moment from Shadowfall's childhood, before things go terribly wrong for her family. (600 words)
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Paved with Love
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Shadowfall eeled into the forge and tucked herself away on a shelf beside the big wheel-powered bellows Father used when he needed a particularly big fire. Right now he was only using a small, hand-squeezed bellows -- pausing now and then to set down his hammer, stick the chunk of steel back into the fire, and blow a bit of air to stir the charcoal into shimmering, sun-spark heat.
She picked up a chunk of pig iron and rolled it between her hands, feeling its scratchy sharp-snag edges. Father took his work back out of the fire, set it on the anvil, and lifted his hammer.
Bang! And bang! And bang! The sound beat against her ears, comforting in its familiarity.
Father didn't keep a steady rhythm for long, always pausing here and there to turn and twist the steel on the anvil. She wondered what he was making. Not nails, those were different. Not horseshoes; he never did those without the horse to hand. And not a sword or spear-blade, either; those were longer and he'd be flicking oil and invoking war and blood and fate as he worked if he were making anything meant to touch death.
Maybe a hinge, then, or a shovel blade.
She realized she hadn't heard the hammer or the wheeze of the bellows for a long moment, and looked up.
Father beckoned her close. "Scrapling, come over here and show me what you've been learning from your aunt."
Shadowfall wiggled down from her shelf and hurried over to his side. Aunt Greenleaf was teaching her to bake, but that probably wasn't what he meant. Was he going to let her do an invocation? She peered down at the anvil, to see what blessing would be needed.
"It's a... um... it's a..." She bit her lip. "I don't know what that is," she admitted.
Father smiled, the orange coal-light reflecting off the sweat-slick skin of his face and arms. "That's because they're illegal in the royal city, because of the Shining Ones and the princess. Your mother keeps hers outside the city, in a little cache near the flock's winter pasture." He lifted the metal spike with his tongs, turned it so Shadowfall could see how it widened toward the end before widening into a small disc. "This is a spindle. It's what people use to turn wool or fibers into yarn and thread. Most are made of wood or bone, but I wanted your mother to carry a piece of my handwork for luck, the way she wears your aunt's amulets."
"Oh," said Shadowfall. She turned the pig iron around and around in her fingers while she thought about Aunt Greenleaf's lessons. Turning wool into thread wasn't quite like breaking earth for crops, and it wasn't quite like baking or cooking either, but it probably counted as creation and change. She could try the invocation Aunt Greenleaf used on her ovens. And she knew three invocations for luck.
"All right. I need to get some salt and oil and basil and a river stone with a hole," she said. "We can use the coals instead of regular fire. The world listens more if you use things that matter to you when you ask for something. Then we can give the spindle to Mother together."
"Don't run too fast. There's no need to hurry!" Father called after her as she slipped out of the forge.
"There's no reason not to!" Shadowfall shouted. Then she slammed the door and darted through the dusty streets toward Aunt Greenleaf's bakehouse, still clutching the pig iron as she ran.
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Inspired by the 8/31/14![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
15_minute_ficlets word #201: bang
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The princess that Shadowfall's father mentions is Sunbright, by the way. Yes, she has a Sleeping Beauty curse. No, that is not the main point of her story. I did mention the whole "conquering the world" part, right? :-)
---------------------------------------------
Paved with Love
---------------------------------------------
Shadowfall eeled into the forge and tucked herself away on a shelf beside the big wheel-powered bellows Father used when he needed a particularly big fire. Right now he was only using a small, hand-squeezed bellows -- pausing now and then to set down his hammer, stick the chunk of steel back into the fire, and blow a bit of air to stir the charcoal into shimmering, sun-spark heat.
She picked up a chunk of pig iron and rolled it between her hands, feeling its scratchy sharp-snag edges. Father took his work back out of the fire, set it on the anvil, and lifted his hammer.
Bang! And bang! And bang! The sound beat against her ears, comforting in its familiarity.
Father didn't keep a steady rhythm for long, always pausing here and there to turn and twist the steel on the anvil. She wondered what he was making. Not nails, those were different. Not horseshoes; he never did those without the horse to hand. And not a sword or spear-blade, either; those were longer and he'd be flicking oil and invoking war and blood and fate as he worked if he were making anything meant to touch death.
Maybe a hinge, then, or a shovel blade.
She realized she hadn't heard the hammer or the wheeze of the bellows for a long moment, and looked up.
Father beckoned her close. "Scrapling, come over here and show me what you've been learning from your aunt."
Shadowfall wiggled down from her shelf and hurried over to his side. Aunt Greenleaf was teaching her to bake, but that probably wasn't what he meant. Was he going to let her do an invocation? She peered down at the anvil, to see what blessing would be needed.
"It's a... um... it's a..." She bit her lip. "I don't know what that is," she admitted.
Father smiled, the orange coal-light reflecting off the sweat-slick skin of his face and arms. "That's because they're illegal in the royal city, because of the Shining Ones and the princess. Your mother keeps hers outside the city, in a little cache near the flock's winter pasture." He lifted the metal spike with his tongs, turned it so Shadowfall could see how it widened toward the end before widening into a small disc. "This is a spindle. It's what people use to turn wool or fibers into yarn and thread. Most are made of wood or bone, but I wanted your mother to carry a piece of my handwork for luck, the way she wears your aunt's amulets."
"Oh," said Shadowfall. She turned the pig iron around and around in her fingers while she thought about Aunt Greenleaf's lessons. Turning wool into thread wasn't quite like breaking earth for crops, and it wasn't quite like baking or cooking either, but it probably counted as creation and change. She could try the invocation Aunt Greenleaf used on her ovens. And she knew three invocations for luck.
"All right. I need to get some salt and oil and basil and a river stone with a hole," she said. "We can use the coals instead of regular fire. The world listens more if you use things that matter to you when you ask for something. Then we can give the spindle to Mother together."
"Don't run too fast. There's no need to hurry!" Father called after her as she slipped out of the forge.
"There's no reason not to!" Shadowfall shouted. Then she slammed the door and darted through the dusty streets toward Aunt Greenleaf's bakehouse, still clutching the pig iron as she ran.
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Inspired by the 8/31/14
15_minute_ficlets word #201: bang---------------------------------------------
The princess that Shadowfall's father mentions is Sunbright, by the way. Yes, she has a Sleeping Beauty curse. No, that is not the main point of her story. I did mention the whole "conquering the world" part, right? :-)
