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special_rabbitWell. This was it, Amaya supposed. A few weeks ago, Graham had stopped into the shop on some official business from King Edward himself, and, even though someone didn't get around to actually writing out that that business was, it had been an offer that Amaya couldn't refuse.
Well, she could refuse it, actually, but she didn't necessarily want to. Apparently, Edward was so desperate to have her back behind the forge in Daventry that he not only wanted to offer he an official title as Royal Blacksmith, but that he was willing to pay an awful lot of shiny gold coins to for the privilege. An awful lot. And she would have thought the old codger was full of it if it weren't for the fact that he finally paid her back (and then some!) for her work during the last Tournament of Knights.
And there were few things Amaya loved as much as she loved the call of shiny gold coins.
But there was someone she was pretty sure she loved more than the call of shiny gold coins, and she wasn't well too happy about being put in the position of having to actually acknowledge that fact.
Which lead her to do something truly wild and absurd and ridiculous.
She actually talked to Irene about it. And wouldn't you know it? Painful as it was to actually get some of it out, it had actually been....a good thing? Because if they hadn't...taaalked about it, then Amaya might have never known that, apparently, Irene was actually two steps toward packing up all that fancy luggage of hers to go with her when Amaya admitted that she was tempted to take the offer.
Fast forward, then, past all that stuff, to today, as Amaya stood at one of her worktables, surrounded by boxes slowly being filled up with things, and taking a look at this forge that she'd built with her own two hands, with its two anvils and the greenhouse upstairs, and the...what was it? Six? Seven years? of memories tempered into every nook and cranny.
Now, Amaya wasn't really a nostalgic pers--
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa--!"
**CRASH!**
Amaya closed her eyes for a moment, pressing a hand to the bridge of her nose, as the groans from Graham emerged from beneath the giant shuriken he'd just tried to pry off the wall in his effort to help her with her packing.
"S-sorry!" he said, and a thumbs-up emerged from underneath the massive throwing star. "I'm okay! But zounds, this thing is way heavier than it looks!"
There were a few more struggling grunts, and Amaya reluctantly went over to lift the weapon off of the poor nearly-crushed knight and held out a hand to help him back up to his feet.
"How about you let me handle the rest of the weapons wall, eh, Sir Knight?" she offered. "And you go upstairs and babysit the lobsters for a bit, make sure they stay out of trouble, got it?"
"Right away!" Graham stood up straight as can be, darting a bladed hand to his forehead and releasing it in a salute, before grinning dopily at Amaya as he added, conspiratorially, complete with waggling eyebrows, "O Royal Blacksmith."
She gave him a withering look. "Can it, kid," she said, hitching her thumb toward the stairs, "and get your skinny butt up there before I send it back to King Edward in a box just like the rest of this stuff!"
She didn't need to tell him twice, and he hurried up the stairs to the apartment, leaving Amaya alone again, leaning the shuriken against the wall and half-wondering if she should leave that behind as well, just like the anvils.
The Forge is...no longer open.
[[ but the post sure is! More than likely my last post for Amaya on the island now that I finally have the time and energy to send her off properly, but she'll still be around and supporting Graham in all his questing endeavors, just from Daventry now! ]]
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