Forge Fires // OPEN

The sound of the forge was all that filled Fili’s ears as she worked away, the rhythmic —

                pound,                            clang,                                     ring,                  pound,                             clang,                                       ring  filing the heated air with each hammer blow and turn of  the blade she was creating. Blonde waves and braids stuck  to her lightly tanned and freckled skin despite her attempt to  pull it away from her face with a leather tie, blue eyes focused  on the faintly glowing metal on the anvil she held tightly  with forge calloused hands only a smith with years of  experience bore.

The curiously warm weather of the Blue Mountains did nothing  to alleviate the she-Dwarf’s discomfort that had her cotton shirt  clinging to her form in a manner that would have her mother  cringing, but she did not let it distract her. She was lost to her  work, caught in the dance of the flames, smoke, and the beat of  her own hammer, determined to get the days’ work done in time.

There was a pause as with grace found only with practice and  knowing every inch of the forge her uncle had built with his  own two hands she moved to dip the blade in water, examining  it with critical eyes before she returned it to the fire to heat up  once more. Fili returned to the anvil once she was satisfied with  the metal’s temperature and took a moment to wipe sweat from her brow, before resuming her hammering as sparks filled the  air and spattered across the thick leather apron protecting her  form from burns. Only one more time she repeated the process before she was  pleased with the blade that would become part of a simple steel  sword and placed it with others to be added to hilts later on. With a satisfied sigh, she produced a rag from the front pocket of her blacksmith’s apron and wiped her face - the braids of her thin  beard that lined her cheekbones unaffected by the motion -  and undid the ties to toss it onto it’s hook.

Fili was surprised to spot a figure standing in the doorway,  immediately wondering just how long they had been standing there.                                         —- “Good afternoon,” she greeted.                     ”My apologies if you were kept waiting.                     What might I do for you?”