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Arya barged into the blacksmith’s shop, two scrolls in hand as she yelled, “Two more orders!”
When she received no answer, Arya sighed loudly and vaulted over the counter to find the back empty. A distance ringing of hammering could be heard and she quickly navigated out to the back where she found the owner of the shop shirtless and pounding at iron ore. She took a moment to watch as he swung heavily at the cooling metal, sweat dripping down his back as he did.
“You know it’d be much easier if you had a striker instead of trying to do this all by yourself,” Arya drawled, leaning against the opening of the shop, fiddling with the two scrolls.
Gendry dropped the hammer to the ground and turned to see Arya smirking at him. He narrowed his eyes. “I have an apprentice. She’s just always late.”
“Oh,” Arya put a hand over her heart in feigning hurt, “but I come bearing gifts.” She held up her other hand to show the two scrolls and displayed their seals. One was from the King himself. “But I suppose if I’m such a horrible apprentice, you’ll just have to fire me.”
Gendry rolled his eyes, stepping forward and grabbing the already opened scrolls. As he scanned them, Arya explained. “Seems like the King’s twat of a son lost the last sword in a bet.”
Gendry jerked his head up. “Didn’t you reinforce that with fire properties?”
Arya nodded her head. “Now some asshole is running around the kingdom with a flaming sword and of course the King’s first instinct is to have a new one crafted for his idiot son. He’s paying double this time.” Arya stood on her tip toes to point that the particular passage with the money offered.
Gendry smirked until he read below and raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell do they want a sword with lightning capabilities?”
“Apparently, the prince was dissatisfied with setting his enemies on fire. Now he wants to blow them up with lightning. Does it really even matter? Look at the amount of gold? You can higher two strikers for that amount!”
“Or,” Gendry shook his head, tucking away the first scroll and opening the second, “we can pay upcoming rents.”
“We should just buying our own place,” Arya mumbled.
“I like that it is our place when ownership is involved but it if my place when work is involved,” Gendry shot back smoothly.
“Hey! The only reason your swords are worth a damn is because of me-”
“Yeah, yeah, and your pixie magic,” Gendry smirked as Arya’s face scrunched under the teasing tone.
“Whatever,” Arya snapped, brushing past Gendry to see the design Gendry was hammering out.
“Is this an order from your brother?” Gendry asked, bewildered, finally looking at the second scroll.
“Rickon’s getting a sword now that he is coming of age. It’s a Stark thing,” Arya hummed as she tapped her fingers against Needle, strapped faithfully to her side. “Even Sansa has one.”
“It’s more of a dagger,” Gendry muttered.
“Semantics,” Arya waved off. “No pixie magic jumbo for Rickon, though. He thinks it’ll interfere with his own.”
“Will it?” Gendry asked, turning back to his partner.
Arya shrugged, “I have no idea. Maybe? Only humans want enchanted swords. They are more trouble than their worth.” Upon seeing Gendry’s expression, Arya threw in, “Although magic hammers are a completely different animal.”
“Ass,” Gendry muttered. “Get to work now. Ser Barristan is coming for his sword at noon.”
Arya was already way ahead of Gendry, grabbing the sheathed sword for the valiant knight and pulling it out, laying it on her table. “Morality question!”
“Shoot,” Gendry muttered as he came to observe her process, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“How do you decided which knights are allowed armor cutting swords?” Arya raised her hands over the smooth steel of the sword as muttered the spell under her breath as faint blue light cast down from her hands and sprinkled on the metal like fallen snow.
“The knights that pay well,” Gendry answered but when Arya looked up she could see his eyes were locked on her wings that emerged when she used pixie magic.
“Stop staring,” she hissed, her wings fluttering angrily as she continued to enchant the sword.
“Why? I like them,” Gendry smirked as a hand darted out to gentle stroke the edge of one. Her wings were a deep blue with black patterns in them. Gendry said they suited her and she should leave them out all the time. Arya never did unless she was using her magic and that’s because she physically needed them out to work. She didn’t like the looks she got, especially with the stereotypes floating around that pixies were easy lays because they weren’t.
“I don’t,” Arya huffed as she pulled her hands away from the now glowing sword and her wings folding back into her skin. “There, Sir Barristan’s done.”
Gendry grabbed the sword and sheathed it once more. “Now I need to rehammer Gregor Clegane’s. Care to help?”
“I will if you hire a proper striker,” Arya groaned but did as she was told.
“I’ll get a proper striker once we get a proper shop that is ours,” Gendry looked up and wink.
Arya rolled her eyes. “Just strike the damn metal, Waters.”