42nd Spring 516
Alija marched sharply into the forge, knotting her hair behind her head in a swift motion. The waves bound up tightly, shifting from where they obscured her view to being completely out of the way. Smaug hadn’t arrived yet - but it was before dawn, and she was hoping to get started before he did. The fire was out, the ashes annoying her, so she swept them out, shovelling the larger lumps of burnt coal out as well. Even after chimes of work, she was already coated with a thin layer of dust from the coals, but that was to be expected, after all. She was wearing her apron for a reason. With broom in hand, she danced across the smithy floor, watching the dust disappear into neat piles in the corners of the room. That would be enough. Still using the broom, she brushed her anvil clean, not bothering to change tool. It wouldn’t matter too much anyway.
Her eyes darted back to the forge, bringing forward the sack of coal that had just been delivered. Most of it went to start a fire, the rest discarded at the back for use another day. She pounded at the bellows, watching the red hot sparks glow and grow, jumping like fleas. That reminded her - she would need to check the dogs, they had been scratching recently. Alija sighed, thinking about all the things she needed to do. She had bought the dogs on such an impulse, and now she was stuck with them. She was a terrible owner. She had agreed to look after Kial without thinking too much about it either - and she was a terrible guardian. She never had time for him. He was… 7? She sighed again, realising how little she knew about him. And he was too young to join her in the forge. If he wasn’t, maybe they’d spend more time together. But he was, and she didn’t want to have him get hurt.
Lost in her thoughts, she pumped until the fire was roaring, before cursing herself inwardly. Moving away to let it calm down, she went to the back room of the shop, rifling through a drawer to find a notebook and quill. She settled against the tiny table, hovering the quill above an empty page as she tried to recall what the woman had asked for. Four pots, to be attached to a wall. What size? She had never specified, so Alija would have to decide. Snatching up her ruler, she started at it a little while, trying to picture the different sizes of pots. Roughly 20 cm? She supposed it would be a good place to start. Taking her quill again, she dipped it in the ink, jotting down her measurements and ideas before beginning on a rough sketch to picture what it would look like. Mostly, it would be for Smaug - she could always have a plan in her head, but if he was going to make them too, he would need to know what she was making.
She drew a rough sketch of a pot plant, a standard shape she recognised from visiting the shop. Now, how to connect it. It would make sense for it to easily be taken down, for planting or tending to - times when working in the air would be too hard. So perhaps a loop for the pot to sit in? Jotting down measurements for the top and base of the pot, as well as the loop, she began to plan the actual connection to the wall. It wouldn’t do to do something simple - she needed extravagance, beauty. That was what she loved making, and she was determined to make everything like that. She finally decided to stick with a fairly simple design: several loops above, and half as many below, with a head of wheat at the very top. She’d have it painted too, perhaps a simple white, as the metal itself wouldn’t look good with the greenery in the shop. Not in her mind, at least.
Alija marched sharply into the forge, knotting her hair behind her head in a swift motion. The waves bound up tightly, shifting from where they obscured her view to being completely out of the way. Smaug hadn’t arrived yet - but it was before dawn, and she was hoping to get started before he did. The fire was out, the ashes annoying her, so she swept them out, shovelling the larger lumps of burnt coal out as well. Even after chimes of work, she was already coated with a thin layer of dust from the coals, but that was to be expected, after all. She was wearing her apron for a reason. With broom in hand, she danced across the smithy floor, watching the dust disappear into neat piles in the corners of the room. That would be enough. Still using the broom, she brushed her anvil clean, not bothering to change tool. It wouldn’t matter too much anyway.
Her eyes darted back to the forge, bringing forward the sack of coal that had just been delivered. Most of it went to start a fire, the rest discarded at the back for use another day. She pounded at the bellows, watching the red hot sparks glow and grow, jumping like fleas. That reminded her - she would need to check the dogs, they had been scratching recently. Alija sighed, thinking about all the things she needed to do. She had bought the dogs on such an impulse, and now she was stuck with them. She was a terrible owner. She had agreed to look after Kial without thinking too much about it either - and she was a terrible guardian. She never had time for him. He was… 7? She sighed again, realising how little she knew about him. And he was too young to join her in the forge. If he wasn’t, maybe they’d spend more time together. But he was, and she didn’t want to have him get hurt.
Lost in her thoughts, she pumped until the fire was roaring, before cursing herself inwardly. Moving away to let it calm down, she went to the back room of the shop, rifling through a drawer to find a notebook and quill. She settled against the tiny table, hovering the quill above an empty page as she tried to recall what the woman had asked for. Four pots, to be attached to a wall. What size? She had never specified, so Alija would have to decide. Snatching up her ruler, she started at it a little while, trying to picture the different sizes of pots. Roughly 20 cm? She supposed it would be a good place to start. Taking her quill again, she dipped it in the ink, jotting down her measurements and ideas before beginning on a rough sketch to picture what it would look like. Mostly, it would be for Smaug - she could always have a plan in her head, but if he was going to make them too, he would need to know what she was making.
She drew a rough sketch of a pot plant, a standard shape she recognised from visiting the shop. Now, how to connect it. It would make sense for it to easily be taken down, for planting or tending to - times when working in the air would be too hard. So perhaps a loop for the pot to sit in? Jotting down measurements for the top and base of the pot, as well as the loop, she began to plan the actual connection to the wall. It wouldn’t do to do something simple - she needed extravagance, beauty. That was what she loved making, and she was determined to make everything like that. She finally decided to stick with a fairly simple design: several loops above, and half as many below, with a head of wheat at the very top. She’d have it painted too, perhaps a simple white, as the metal itself wouldn’t look good with the greenery in the shop. Not in her mind, at least.
