Work Text:
Legend couldn't sleep, so he sat in the very fluffy rocking chair in the inn room he shared with Warriors, stoked the fire, and pulled out his current sewing project.
Sturdy canvas made up the outside layer, stolen from a discarded but still good sail that Legend found outside the docks of Wind's Windfall Island. He'd beaten that canvas until it was soft and a little thinner. The middle was padded with wool felt from Twilight's goats, lightweight but fluffy, and unlikely to slip. Legend lined the inside with the softest, sturdiest silk he could find at the markets outside this inn. Warriors's world's cities and towns always had a fantastic selection of goods, even apparently backwater ones like this.
This town was still more prosperous than anything in Legend's time, except maybe Hytopia's capitol city. Maybe. Warriors's time really was the best of theirs, in Legend's opinion: great strides in technology and medicine, a roaring economy, a lot of active trade. There would always be slums—the way Warriors paid attention to the beggars in every world made Legend suspicious—but this era probably had the best that Legend had ever seen. The tavern in his own Kakariko was considered pretty good by his own people, and Warriors's slums' taverns were at about the same quality. It was probably a difference in expectation.
Back to the silk. Legend shook his head at himself and blinked back to the present. The firelight next to him warmed his legs, loosening the tight pain he'd been trying to hide—unsuccessfully, if Warriors's expression at dinnertime on the floor below was any indication. The warm rainstorm outside hadn't done him any favors, though it was pleasant to listen to against the roof shingles, a kind of music. Legend liked the thick padding of the rocking chair. The rhythmic, soft motion, along with the faint creaking noise, was really soothing. He felt like an elder in it, all frail and rocking and thinking about the weather. All he needed was a tobacco pipe and fewer teeth.
Earlier today, Legend picked out the perfect bright blue color from the specialty dyer in town, one that sourced her silk from somewhere far away (Warriors said it would be excellent quality, and Legend tended to believe him about these things.) The dyer dipped it into the tiny vat in front of him, and they had a nice conversation about shirt construction as they waited for it. She put it into another vat or two to finalize the color and give it depth, then into cold water. Legend left to get a few more things in the market, then came back when the silk had dried.
Warriors asked him over and over what it was for, but Legend kept his mouth shut, mostly out of spite.
Legend timed the movements of his needle with the rocking of the chair. In, and out, and in, and out… He got lost in the simple, soothing movements.
He wasn't making anything too complicated, and he had a lot of each sort of fabric, so once he'd finished the first thing, he set it aside to cut out a second.
His shears were probably a tad too loud, though he tried to keep it quiet. Shing went the blades, cutting through the canvas on a line he drew with a thick pencil.
Behind him, blankets rustled, and Warriors got up, bare feet soft on the hard wood. He leaned over Legend's chair, though he didn't interrupt the rocking motion.
"Wha'szat?" Warriors asked quietly, voice breaking with sleep and general Warriors's-voice-ness. Legend could barely understand him.
Legend picked up his first finished product and handed it over. Warriors took it with a hum. "For Wind. When Four and I enchanted his leg, I noticed that cleanliness was a bit of an issue. He sweats, duh, he's a teenage kid in the middle of puberty, and I worried a bit about infection. I made sure his leg got a cleaning rune, don't worry, but I don't think he cleans his actual stump as often as he needs to."
Warriors looked over the sewn thing in his hands, poking at the fabric and the neat seams. "So wha-at's this?" He didn't engage his voice, so Legend didn't scold him for hurting himself, but the whisper just added another layer of difficulty to understanding him. Legend had to take a moment to parse the sounds, though he got it eventually.
"He has a couple knit socks for the end of his leg that his grandma made him, but the kind of wool she used is resistant to enchantment, like more cleaning runes, and it's hard enough to charm fabrics. Besides, the ones he has are getting a bit worn and gross. Thought I'd make him a few more, and maybe try to enchant these. We'd be down a fighter if he got an infection."
Warriors laughed and sat down in the chair across from Legend, the non-rocking one. He put the sock down on his lap and switched to signing. 'You didn't have to go to such lengths for quality material.'
Legend sniffed and continued cutting out the canvas, snipping a little triangle into it. "Better quality fabric makes it easier to put runes on it. And he's more likely to wear it if he likes it."
'Sure. Good excuses.'
That didn't even merit a response. Legend rolled his eyes and started to cut up the next bit of felt. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
Warriors waved a hand nonchalantly. 'I wasn't sleeping well. I'll keep you company.'
Legend shrugged. His choice.
An hour later, Legend's finished second sock rested in his lap. The fire burned low and dim in the hearth, and the dregs of the rainstorm outside tapped the window. Both Legend and Warriors had fallen asleep in their chairs, sure to have sore necks the next morning.