Saturninos (wlw)

Chapter 2 - Welcome to Ashlar

"Where do you live?"

Seras waved toward a vague direction. "Over there. Listen, can you manage by yourself?"

"Of course."

"If I leave you here, how confident are you that you will be safe and unharmed by tomorrow?"

"Very confident, yes."

"Excellent. We will part ways here." Seras retrieved her sack of tools and started walking. She waited until she reached the bend of the street to whirl around and come face to face with Quin, who had been not-very-quietly shuffling after her. "What."

Harlequin had committed treason--had she been anyone else--by blowing up part of the palace. She had left the court undetected and even swindled this blacksmith into getting her off the island and helping her further (only a little, and at any rate it did not hurt Seras). She had succeeded, yes, but what now?

"Can I come see your house?"

Seras felt like a vein in her head exploded. First it was I just need to get to port, then help me cross the channel, and then can you show me the way to Ashlar? Seras did not believe in superstition, but perhaps Quin was the gods' punishment for something she did in a past life.

Divine retribution or not, Seras drew the line here.

"Absolutely not--"

"You live alone, yes?" Seras never mentioned this and was offended that Quin would assume so (it was true, but nevertheless). "I could keep your company."

"I have no desire for a companion--" Quin blushed and Seras did not want to dwell on that thought. "Nor a forester. Go and see if the lumberyard needs more hands."

"Please. I am useful. Let me show you, I will prove it," pleaded the runaway. The task of getting herself settled was much harder than it seemed, now that Harlequin was finally giving it some thought. Seras had been exceedingly convenient so far and losing her would be a significant step back.

This was part of the plan, after all: find a commoner and use them to blend in. Seras would be compensated once she was back in office. Harlequin did not expect to feel so uncomfortable asking this of Seras, but here she was.

Seras's fatal flaw was that she always gave in to people who pleaded. Most would say that it was a virtue, but Seras hated where it got her sometimes.

And look at her now. She had once again shoved the sack of tools at Quin, who wheezed in response. They were going to her house, apparently, her and this strange woman she met last night. Could be worse.

They had walked for some time, Quin blessedly quiet, when they reached her house. It was also her shop and her forge.

They entered through the shop--Quin stared at the assortment of tools on display--and through another doorway, which opened up to a wide space. On one side, normal house implements: furniture, a kitchen, a very unused hearth.

On the other, with barely anything to cordon it off, was Seras's workspace. The forge was dark and cold, the tongs--so many tongs--lined the wall. There was a hunk of weirdly-shaped metal near the center that Harlequin recognized late as an anvil, but only because it was vaguely red and not the dark iron she associated with blacksmiths.

"Wonderful home you have here," said Quin, slightly meaning it. Could have been worse.

Seras grunted as she took the sack from the other woman and tossed it gently to the floor. She collapsed into a chair. "Quin."

Harlequin had been staring all around the room, and now turned to her. "Make yourself useful and go fetch water."

She expected this to happen at some point. To blend in, to become Quin, she would have to perform commoner tasks. So while they had just walked eight miles, she was almost eager to get it done.