storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2011-03-08 08:21 am
storypaint) wrote2011-03-08 08:21 am
[Tortall/Emelan] travel lengthens the conversation (Alanna & Daja gen)
Title: travel lengthens the conversation
Fandom: Tortall/Emelan
Length: 694 words
Prompt: Tortall/Emelan crossover for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spellcoats
Pairing: Alanna and Daja gen
Other: n/a
Summary: Alanna the Lioness visits a forge far from home.
Alanna supposed she shouldn't be surprised as often as she was when she found another woman doing what was traditionally referred to as men's work. Perhaps Emelan wasn't any more advanced in female rights than Tortall was, but she didn't think so, from what she'd seen on her travels. It was refreshing, really, to not receive the stares and straight disbelief that she often encountered when she traveled far from her homeland. Here, she was Alanna the knight, just like she always wanted -- not Alanna the lady knight.
She tried to hide her surprise, therefore, when she stepped into the hot forge and saw a black woman holding a hilt in the flames. The woman wasn't paying any attention to her in any case, concentrated on the metal as it slowly changed color from dull gray to gold to cherry red. Instead she watched quietly as the smith manipulated the sword, working with the swift care of a skilled master. It wasn't long until she was plunging the blade into the cold water, letting the steam rise up over her reddened cheeks. It was then that the smith realized she had a visitor. She smiled.
"Hi," she said, almost shy, but Alanna smiled back as the woman swiftly checked her out, eyes widening a little when she met Alanna's purple ones.
"You're the Tortallan knight, aren't you?" she said.
Still, Alanna's reputation managed to precede her. "Yes, I am. Alanna the Lioness. I have a knife for mending."
She drew the knife from its sheath and the smith stepped closer to take it, running her fingers over the cracked blade. Alanna bit back an admonishment that the smith could hurt herself. This wasn't her child, even though the other looked barely past that stage. She worked with hot metal all the time, and Alanna could see the soot in the smith's fingernails, although she was surprised to notice no obvious shine of old burns on the girl's arms. She must be a great smith, indeed.
"I'm Daja Kisubo of Tenth Caravan Idaram," the woman answered, eyes on the broken knife. Alanna's brow furrowed. That was a Trader designation, wasn't it? Her eyes swept the room and yes, noted the long staff propped up against the back wall. It was too far for Alanna to decipher the intricate carvings. Miles had told her that the Traders looked down on craftsmen, so why was one of their own a smith?
She didn't know Daja well enough to ask, so she simply nodded and said, "Is it possible to fix?" She could possibly buy a new knife here, if that was necessary, but she wanted to save her Emelan coin as much as possible. She didn't know how long she would be in this country.
"No problem!" Daja said cheerfully. "It looks like it made a clean break. That should be an easy seam. Just give me a few minutes."
Before Alanna could protest that it didn't need to be immediate, Daja gestured to an empty stool, apparently placed near the door for waiting customers, and she began to prepare the knife for repairs. Alanna watched again, captivated by a master at work. This was just as hard in its own way as learning to joust or fight hand by hand, and it was just as pleasant to watch as a display of those skills. Daja's muscles worked under her dark shirt. Sweat beaded her brow in the afternoon's heat, just as it was beginning to itch Alanna under her light mail.
"So tell me about Tortall," Daja invited as her hands moved. "My friends are going to be so jealous to hear I met you."
Alanna laughed, leaning forward on the stool and trying to think of what to tell her, and it wasn't long before she had a whole knife in her hands, and an offer for where to stay that night. Alanna accepted happily.
Now, perhaps, she could get to know the local people, and get down to the bottom of their problem.
Fandom: Tortall/Emelan
Length: 694 words
Prompt: Tortall/Emelan crossover for
spellcoatsPairing: Alanna and Daja gen
Other: n/a
Summary: Alanna the Lioness visits a forge far from home.
Alanna supposed she shouldn't be surprised as often as she was when she found another woman doing what was traditionally referred to as men's work. Perhaps Emelan wasn't any more advanced in female rights than Tortall was, but she didn't think so, from what she'd seen on her travels. It was refreshing, really, to not receive the stares and straight disbelief that she often encountered when she traveled far from her homeland. Here, she was Alanna the knight, just like she always wanted -- not Alanna the lady knight.
She tried to hide her surprise, therefore, when she stepped into the hot forge and saw a black woman holding a hilt in the flames. The woman wasn't paying any attention to her in any case, concentrated on the metal as it slowly changed color from dull gray to gold to cherry red. Instead she watched quietly as the smith manipulated the sword, working with the swift care of a skilled master. It wasn't long until she was plunging the blade into the cold water, letting the steam rise up over her reddened cheeks. It was then that the smith realized she had a visitor. She smiled.
"Hi," she said, almost shy, but Alanna smiled back as the woman swiftly checked her out, eyes widening a little when she met Alanna's purple ones.
"You're the Tortallan knight, aren't you?" she said.
Still, Alanna's reputation managed to precede her. "Yes, I am. Alanna the Lioness. I have a knife for mending."
She drew the knife from its sheath and the smith stepped closer to take it, running her fingers over the cracked blade. Alanna bit back an admonishment that the smith could hurt herself. This wasn't her child, even though the other looked barely past that stage. She worked with hot metal all the time, and Alanna could see the soot in the smith's fingernails, although she was surprised to notice no obvious shine of old burns on the girl's arms. She must be a great smith, indeed.
"I'm Daja Kisubo of Tenth Caravan Idaram," the woman answered, eyes on the broken knife. Alanna's brow furrowed. That was a Trader designation, wasn't it? Her eyes swept the room and yes, noted the long staff propped up against the back wall. It was too far for Alanna to decipher the intricate carvings. Miles had told her that the Traders looked down on craftsmen, so why was one of their own a smith?
She didn't know Daja well enough to ask, so she simply nodded and said, "Is it possible to fix?" She could possibly buy a new knife here, if that was necessary, but she wanted to save her Emelan coin as much as possible. She didn't know how long she would be in this country.
"No problem!" Daja said cheerfully. "It looks like it made a clean break. That should be an easy seam. Just give me a few minutes."
Before Alanna could protest that it didn't need to be immediate, Daja gestured to an empty stool, apparently placed near the door for waiting customers, and she began to prepare the knife for repairs. Alanna watched again, captivated by a master at work. This was just as hard in its own way as learning to joust or fight hand by hand, and it was just as pleasant to watch as a display of those skills. Daja's muscles worked under her dark shirt. Sweat beaded her brow in the afternoon's heat, just as it was beginning to itch Alanna under her light mail.
"So tell me about Tortall," Daja invited as her hands moved. "My friends are going to be so jealous to hear I met you."
Alanna laughed, leaning forward on the stool and trying to think of what to tell her, and it wasn't long before she had a whole knife in her hands, and an offer for where to stay that night. Alanna accepted happily.
Now, perhaps, she could get to know the local people, and get down to the bottom of their problem.
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