Saturninos (wlw)

Chapter 14 - Making Arms

cw // knife and skin and blood, descriptive

"There is nothing wrong with me, Seras."

"How about you try being quiet," said the blacksmith, pulling on her boots. "It will do the both of us good."

Having just gone through physical--and gods know what else--trauma, Seras insisted that she lay down and rest for the coming days, and Harlequin was already proving to be a difficult patient.

Quin leapt from the bed, became woozy, and tried to hide it. "I can still work. It will only take me a little longer."

Seras pushed a finger against her forehead and Quin let herself fall back down to the sheets. "Not this work, not with one arm missing, Quin."

She tried her best to cross her arms, which was not an effective attempt. Harlequin was taking her missing limb oddly well, now that she had been living with it for a few days. Perhaps it was because Seras made parts for people.

Seras had remarked this. "Most people who come to me are inconsolably grieving about the loss, yet you seem almost excited."

"I will miss being made of meat, but things change. I see this as a physical mark of my growth. And besides, I have more pressing issues to grieve for," she had replied.

Presently, she pouted at Seras, who loomed above her. "Can I not come downstairs? Your bedroom is very nice, but if one more bird comes in and chirps at me, I will be escaping out of the window."

"That seems to be your talent." Seras pulled her up to stand. "Fine, but you must stay still."

"That reminds me." Quin braced against Seras's chest as she was lifted upward. "What will we tell the others?"

There was no keeping quiet about a direwolf attack, but they had been fielding nosy citizens as best they could. They had been keeping Quin upstairs because visitors came nearly every day since.

"We will discuss it over breakfast. Come."

Quin was fine, for the most part. She could manage most tasks by herself still, and the ones she could not she was quickly learning how to, one-handed. They walked downstairs and she watched from the kitchen table as Seras prepared a meal.

The blacksmith had taken up the responsibility for the time being. Quin intended to pick it back up once she was sure she would not knock anything over. Soon a plate was slid in front of her.

"Direwolf attack, obviously. Half the city knows," said Seras, sliding into the seat opposite. "But they will ask why."

"Can we not just deny them that detail?"

"Would that not be suspicious?"

"Yes, but not in a way that would get us in trouble." Harlequin shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth. "You know how all of Ashlar thinks we are secretly married."

"Drop enough hints that we were on the rocks." Seras sipped water from her cup in thought.

"And let the rumor mill do the work."

"Diabolical." Seras gave her a wry little smirk.

Quin looked away, focusing on her plate. "Well. You know how I am."

"I do," said Seras gently, and placed a hand over hers.

After they finished the meal, the blacksmith started up her forge.

"Quin, you could soak up sun in the yard, or mind the shop. Bring a chair from the kitchen if you do."

Harlequin dragged the chair she was sitting in out to the front of the house, and set it behind the counter. A while later, Seras opened the little window.