Meeting with the Blacksmith
20855
THREADID
27
POSTS
1 - 10
DISPLAYED
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After finishing off some paperwork and looking up Treetop Fashions, Terri headed straight to meet with Danny at his workshop, and arrived easily within the hour. She was glad that the Wizened had called, she herself had wanted to meet with him as it was, so this small coincidence was not lost on the Autumn Queen. "Danny?" she called after knocking on his door.
A few minutes before Terri had arrived, Danny had checked the clock in the workshop he had in the small house, and had sat down, quietly, to consider himself.
It was simple. He might have been relatively calm, alone with his work, but he was not going to be when Terri arrived, and he could feel the pull, constant and insistent, telling him what he knew he needed.
With a rush of Glamour, he took command of his Fear, and quelled it into nothing, until he was so perfectly calm that he was barely recognisable as Danny Tongs.
He pulled the door open, and gave Terri a broad, lipless smile that showed off his odd, hooked fangs. His movements were lithe and easy, and he was stood up straight, which really brought to light just how uncomfortably stretched he was.
"Terri. Please, come in. Can I get you a coffee or anything?"
Even his voice sounded wrong. There wasn't a stutter in sight.
Heart of the Antlion active
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The moment Danny spoke, Terri smiled but cocked her head slightly as she entered. "Hey Danny, coffee would be great," she said as she entered the workshop, pleasantly surprised by the Wizened's manner. "But something's different about you, Danny? Could it be that you're not concerned by my feminine wiles?"
Danny stepped through to the workshop, and filled an old-fashioned kettle at the sink, before setting it amongst the coals of the foundry. They were glowing redly at the moment, not stoked up to their full heat for smithing, but warming the room with its cast iron furniture to a rather pleasant pitch.
"I hope you don't mind, but this is probably the most comfortable part of the house - I'm working on a sculpture in the lounge at the moment, and it's rather all over the place," the Smith said apologetically, before taking a seat at the heavy table and gesturing for Terri to make herself comfortable. At her second comment, he smiled, showing his short, pointed teeth behind his lipless mouth.
"They haven't vanished, if that's what you're asking. I assure you, you're as good looking as you ever have been. I've simply... taken steps to enable myself to communicate more meaningfully with people. I've finally been able to grasp the Heart of the Antlion. It does wonders for my nerves. What do you think?"
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Removing the scarf around her neck, Terri was glad of the warmth inside the workshop and after placing the scarf down, removed her coat also. "No, its fine, Danny. Besides, its lovely and toasty in here," she chuckled as she took a seat at Danny's gesture, her bushy red tail curling around to rest on her lap. "As much as I love the changing seasons, I do appreciate a warm room."
"Ah, I see," Terri smiled after Danny explained and was a little shocked at how he commented on her looks. The pre-Contract Danny would never have said something in such a....brazen manner, and not without a whole lot of stuttering. "Its definitely an improvement, and so long as you're comfortable, then that makes me happy. But I can't help but wonder, are you using it as a crutch, perhaps?" Terri asked it not out of spite or to make Danny uncomfortable in anyway. However, she was the Queen of Fear now and such questions should be asked, if only to make sure others understand their own fears.
"A warm room does make conversation rather more pleasant, I find," Danny smiled, looking perfectly relaxed. Of course, he was in his element - the Smith in his forge, the firelights playing over his pallid skin and the candlelight of his mantle casting strange shadows towards the edge of the room. He leant his chin on one long-fingered hand, the extra joints curling under and showing off the strangeness of the shape.
"Oh, I am using it as a crutch. But, Terri, I effectively have a broken leg socially. I cannot speak to people. This enables me to. It's not... right to live out a life where I can't interact with anyone because every time I open my mouth I have a nervous breakdown. I need a crutch."
And the rush of power, of touching what I once was and could be again... That too.
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"Fair enough," Terri replied, not wishing to pry into his own private issues. She was just happy that he had found a way to be more comfortable. "So, apart from the no social skills," she chuckled, "What else is new?"
Danny gave a little nod to the Autumn Queen, his fairly shapeless face contorted in an expression of understanding. He took a thoughtful breath, the movement as much to help the conversation flow as anything. The Smith knew the subject he was broaching was likely painful, and he didn't want it to go wrong.
"I'm... concerned, actually," Danny said, after a moment. "About my role within the Court." He looked at Terri, his long, multi-jointed fingers flexing slightly as he moved.
"I don't think I'm helping as much as I could be in this role, Terri - I don't think any of us are, as long as we're not pledged to the Court."
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A heavy weary sigh escaped from Terri as Danny mentioned his concerns and she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she looked directly at the Wizened, a sad smile on her face. "I know, Danny, Rick let everyone down there. However, I am working on getting those of you with titles pledged as soon as I can find a pledgesmith to do so. Unfortunately that was one of Rick's talents, and not something I myself have ever picked up. I don't suppose you know of anyone skilled in creating pledges, do you?" she enquired, perhaps with some hope.
Danny's smile, even full of fangs, was actually as gentle as he could make it. He recognised her sorrow. He wished he could understand it, but he was lucky, he supposed. Without a memory of before, and crippled by his social anxiety, he had never had anyone that he knew to lose.
Except Her.
In a way, he had loved Her. The memory of it sickened him, but he acknowledged simply, with clear eyes, that it was utterly true. He had belonged to her, irrevocably.
"Well, I'm sure the Ashen Notary knows how to write Pledges," the Smith said gently. "But as it happens, I'm also rather talented in that regard. It's part of the magic of a Smith. I know how to bind words and make them sing for me, just like steel." He gave a soft chuckle. "I'm... afraid my nerves likely hid away that ability." He looked away for a moment.
"Which is the other thing. The Autumn Court has plenty of roles Terri, but barely any of them are filled. This Provisioner role is unnecessary - even Rick's description made it clear that it's part of the role of the Witch of the Bitter Wind. Let me help this Court, even if it's only in some small way. Without being nailed into the strictures my durance painted me into."
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