Cats and Mithral Swords

Log Info

• Title: Cats and Mithral Swords

• Emitter: Andelena

• Characters: Andelena, Dolan

• Place: Andelena and Dolan's apartment

The late Eliday afternoon is a temperate affair, with blue skies, warm sun, and cool shade. It's enough for a window in the Donnelly apartment to be cracked open to allow the wind to come in, just a little... because there are calico cats afoot, and they have the same capacity for mischief that they do for napping and purring.

Thankfully for all involved, Patches is fast asleep in Andelena's lap as the woman stares at diagrams she's drawn up, contemplating things. Her lips are pressed together in thought when a small noise leaves Patches--one that pulls Andelena away from her parchment and down at the cat in her lap.

"Did you just pass gas?" Andelena asks incredulously. The cat only responds with the brief flicker of an open eye that shuts again.

Andelena sighs, smiling fondly as she reaches down to stroke Patches. "Little shit," she concludes.

Speaking of being asleep. It's an Eliday afternoon and Dolan is fast asleep, the treatise he'd been reading rolled up in a jumble of scrolls across his lap. His head has tilted backwards, a position that cannot possibly be comfortable, and a soft susurrus from his direction says that he might be getting ready to snore.

In truth, it's a good thing. He hasn't been sleeping especially well lately, and he's been asleep for at least two hours, enough time to get some real rest.

Andelena looks up at Dolan from the sound of his breathing, and an expression settles on her face as she looks at the way his head's tilted. "That's a crick in the neck waiting to happen," she mutters. Then more loudly, but gently, "Bry. Bry, baby, you okay?"

Patches in her lap does not care for the moment. The cat is happy, sleepy... and stinky.

It is not, however, the sound of Andelena's voice that rouses Brydion. Instead, he breathes in, his nose wriggles, and he snaps awake with a start, looking around. "Sweet and holy gods, what is that SMELL?!" he starts, blinking sleep from his eyes and rubbing at his neck, but at once fully and completely awake. "Augh, baby, that smells like someone is cooking old diapers."

It's true, even Andelena's nose is wrinkling. "Patches, you're a fucking adorable menace, I swear," she mutters, dispensing with her diagrams and putting them aside to pick up Patches and place her elsewhere in the apartment. "That's it, no more fish flakes."

Patches stares at Andelena forlornly.

"... Fuck me in the ass, you can't look at me like that. Okay, half the amount of fish flakes." Yes, that's Andelena negotiating with a terrorist in feline form. She sighs in exasperation as she walks back over to the sofa.

"She just farted something awful. Sorry, baby. Fucking hells." She looks at Dolan with a soft smile. "How'd you sleep?"

Dolan, meanwhile, is left scrubbing at his nose. "Like the dead until that floated in," he mutters, sitting up and gently flexing his neck. Crick in the neck was indeed imminent, judging from how carefully he does this, but one *pop!* later, and he relaxes. "How did that come out of a creature that small?"

The negotiation gets a grin from him, though, that is touched with wickedness. "Well, if you really want me to-" he begins with a lascivious chuckle. "Let me wake up first, though."

"One of life's greatest fucking mysteries, baby, that's for damn sure," Andelena replies as she sits back down on the sofa with Dolan. "And I'll take you up on that offer, but later. Can't say I'm in the mood when we've just been subjected to that rank." She waves a hand in front of her face like it might actually help. It doesn't.

She looks over more keenly to Dolan. "That's good you were that asleep, though. You haven't been sleeping too well lately."

"Yeah," Dolan admits, snuggling against Andelena's side and leaning his head on her shoulder. "Faugh, that's the truth. No, a lot of times I just hurt too much to sleep. They've backed off on the work with the greatsword," he admits. "I just can't do some of the overhand defenses correctly anymore. Hurts too damn much." Real regret and frustration snake through the words, but the admission is a candid one that does not come easily. "I can do it, but not for very long at once, and I hurt all day if I do. Ain't want to say nothing-"

Andelena snuggles into Dolan, shifting a little so that she can run her hand through his hair as he leans on her. She looks thoughtful and compassionate all at once, like something strikes her out of the blue in the middle of her love for her man. "It's okay, baby," she says. "That's a hard thing to admit. I know how hard you worked on that and it's fuckin' frustrating, I know. So, I'm thinking..."

And then she snorts. "Which I know, fucking dangerous coming out of me. But. It's the weight of the blade that's the problem right? That's what's wearing out the shoulder, ain't it? What if we get you a blade that's not so heavy? Like a greatsword, but made out of mithral, like my armor? Nice and light compared to the regular steel."

A snort of laughter at the mention of thinking being dangerous. "I - would it still work for its intended purpose?" Dolan snuggles up against Andelena's side. "How would you do that? I mean, if there's a way to keep it effective without it weighing so much-" He sighs with contentment, just leaning against her side. "It's the weight that pulls on it when I swing, or change positions quickly."

"Mithral's a special kind of metal, babe," Andelena explains. "It's lighter than steel but just as durable. You work with it like steel for armor and it makes for a high-quality set of armor. It's why I'm able to be as nimble on my feet as I am with my full suit of armor--and it's also why fashioning a full set of armor out of it's fucking expensive. The stuff's in demand for a reason."

She thinks for a moment more. "It's used primarily for armor because of that reason. The only claim to fame it has as a weapon is being lighter and... Heh, fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner? Bry, mithral's known for acting like silver when it comes to lycanthropes. It's just that silver's cheaper to get, normally, compared to mithral, if all you care about is being able to slice up fuzzy assholes."

Andelena pats down Dolan's hair again. "Tell you what, babe. If we find a source of mithral--and I think I know where to look--I'll forge you a blade and enchant it to be as nice as the one you got already. Because you deserve to have a greatsword you can actually use without pain."

At that, Dolan sits up to look at her directly, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You can do that? Sure, I've heard of mithral, but - I didn't realize that it would hold for weapons. Would it affect the strength of the blade? Most of the damage is done with weight and momentum. I s'pose it's enchantable -" He seems to visibly deflate, letting out a breath. "I - if it's possible to make it lighter and just as effective -" Hope lingers in the words. "That's going to cost, though, baby."

Andelena shakes her head. "Mithral's light, but it's not light enough to make an attack from a weapon made out of it feel like a feather-tickle," she says. "Still an effective weapon material, just like how it's an effective armor material that's just as durable and protective. It's just rare to see weapons made out of it because of the cost and the fact that to most people who don't care about weight, it doesn't do anything much more than make it light and do more damage to werewolves."

Then she smiles widely. "Yeah, it'll cost, but it wouldn't be as bad as what I had to fork over for my armor," Andelena replies. "Hells, if it'd make you feel better about it--we call it my early wedding gift to you. Because you being able to do the Knight's work the way you want to do it means a fucking lot to me, Bry. And if I can do all the work myself, that means we'd only be paying for materials. I'm not about to charge my husband for my time as a blacksmith."

Suddenly, a secretive smile steals across Dolan's lips. Something amuses him, but as quickly as it appears, it's gone, and he turns his head to face her again, smiling softly. "Sure wouldn't say no to something that wrecks a werewolf," he admits. "You've really gotten good at the forge, haven't you. I knew you spent a lot of time there when you're off-duty."

It's as if the realization hits him for the first time, as he watches her. "If you want to, and you love it. I might be able to talk to a few people about the materials. I -" The brown eye is soft with gratitude. "If this works-"

"I've gotten to the point now where they're letting me take on commission work," Andelena says proudly. "Which means I'm able to do this. It'll be my best work yet. And there's no better advertisement for a blacksmith than someone using her stuff, yeah? This lays down the path to our future. One day we won't be needing to swing swords--I'll be working my forge, you'll be working in your shop, and we'll still do things here and there for the Temple, but we'll have mouths to feed, too. And the best way to make sure we got money for all those mouths is to build up a reputation for the best damn shit that money can buy."

She leans in and kisses the cheek underneath that grateful eye of his. "And that means, if this works, you get to do this for longer, and be in less or no pain. I really fucking hope that's the case, because you deserve that, Bry."

Dolan leans forward to kiss her on the mouth, then, if she'll accept it, although it is a brief, chaste peck rather than something more leading. "That is wonderful, baby," he tells her, beaming with pride. "I've been spending more time in the shop, too. I want to give you the best life we can manage, yeah? It's not like the Temple's going to just forget about either of us, but - this guild shit is for kids, baby. If this works, that'll help," he agrees. "I've still got a job to do and assholes to stop, but -" A heavy sigh. "I can't go on with the steel one," he admits. "It's just not going to work. Let's try the mithral one.

Andelena accepts that kiss with a grin, returning it just a moment after. "And lucky for you, I'm one of the most stubborn bitches that have ever lived, so I'm not exactly gonna take 'no' as the answer and that's it. We find a way. We make a way. And eventually we retire so the next batch of crazy-ass kids can pick up the slack at the Guild."

Patches pads back into the room and stares at both Andelena and Dolan with those imploring eyes. Andelena sighs. "Really? You stink up the whole damn apartment and then you give me the 'feed me' eyes? Bry, what do you think?" She gives Dolan a sort of sly smirk. She knows what the answer will be.

"Oh, feed her, baby." Dolan turns to look down at the sad-looking not-quite-a-kitten anymore, his expression softening, but when he looks up, his grin is wicked. "Feed them both and let's go shut the door for a while." Warmth and affection mingle with the mischief. "You'd have to be to put up with me. We'll make it happen. And - thank you."

Andelena grins back just as wickedly, already headed for the kitchen to go feed the starving cats that have never been fed, ever. "Already on it, babe. You got a cat to play with between my legs in there anyway." Yeah, that joke will never get old.

But the grin softens as she looks at him. "Thank you," she says. "For being a man worth being stubborn for. And you know exactly what I mean by that."

Because at the end of the day, that's what has allowed their love to prevail even in the dark: the fact that they've found someone worth fighting for.