Work Text:
Leras let the rhythmic sound of the hammer slamming on the anvil soothe him. He knew the motions well, after all these years. He loved it, hard work though it was. He loved the satisfaction of having created something near permanent, a part of himself remaining forever in the world, metal molded so that it would last for years. And besides, there was an order to what he did, just him and his tools engaging in a steady beat that could always calm his nerves.
Until footsteps sounded out of the door. He smiled. Well, a man should allow a little disruption to his order from time to time.
A familiar figure stepped in the room, a tall yet thin man, younger than Leras himself, with red hair the color of flames. Ati grinned at him as he entered.
“I hope I don't interrupt anything,” he said as he moved to stand next to him.
“As if that should ever stop you from staying,” Leras replied, still smiling as he slipped a hand around the other’s shoulder.
Ati smiled back and he turned to look at Leras’s work. “Steel?” he asked and Leras nodded. “Not weapons though. What are you making?”
“It’s cookware for today, mostly,” he said, absently spinning his hammer in one hand. “I got an order for some pots, cutlery, that sort of thing. It's easy work, all things considered" He glanced back at the other, who was looking at him intently. “Care to help?”
Ati nodded and grabbed the firestarters to prepare the oven for the next batch. It was routine at this point. Leras would do the actual metalworking and Ati would help with the more minor parts of the job. Though, even then, he would never do anything without his permission. It was Leras's forge and he was merely a visitor, he'd claim. Leras himself thought this silly, but he'd never fault a man for his manners.
Ati’s interest was another odd thing. He'd never known someone who would get so excited over stoking ovens, especially one of noble blood, but here he was. Leras had known the younger man for years, from when he used to work on his family’s grounds. Ati would come to his workshop and watch him with an almost childlike fascination as he gave the metals shape and form. Eventually, he’d started explaining the process to him. The metals and their alloys, their properties, their uses and how you worked them.
Then, despite Leras’s reluctance, Ati had insisted on helping with the little chores.
When Leras had asked him why he insisted on coming, he’d simply shrugged. “People value all types of creation that’s aesthetically pleasing, made for decorating walls and hallways. We call it art. This is creation, not for creations sake, but with a purpose, and it is as much of an art to me as is a beautiful painting. Can you blame me for wanting to be part of a process like that?” he had said.
Then he’d smiled as he often did, that characteristic half-smile, those times when Leras couldn't help but smile back. Really, Ati could be so infuriatingly poetic sometimes.
For all his teasing, he was glad Ati kept on coming.
Eventually, Ati got a stable fire going. He sat down on the bench at the side of the room as Leras set to work. After some time, when he finally set the steel to cool, he turned back to check on the other man, who seemed distracted as he looked at the flames. It wasn't the first time. Leras has been seeing the distant look in Ati’s eyes for a while now.
“Hey,” he called, startling the other. “Is everything well?”
Ati sighed and started poking at the embers. “There's too much happening these days. Father… I don't know what he's planning, but there have been representatives showing up at our doorstep seemingly every other day. Nothing that hasn't happened before, but somehow, it feels worse. Adonalsium knows, even I might not make it without my absence being noticed this time.”
“Well, if that's the case, then you’d better be away from the fire. I don't want your father at my doorstep when his son comes back looking like he’s been working the fields.” He couldn't suppress a grin when Ati huffed at him.
“Why, I’ll have you know, my father would be greatly offended if you assume he'd pay mind to something so unimportant, like some misbehaving son. Perhaps I’ll earn a glare or two.” He said this smiling, but Leras knew him well enough to notice the edge on his voice.
Leras remembered working for his father. A man as stern as a rock, and as practical as could be. Someone who valued discipline above everything and counted things and people by their efficiency and use to him. The man had practically made an army camp of his house, and Ati’s kindred spirit was considered a waste.
Leras put an arm around Ati’s shoulders. “What if I let you finish the project? It's about time you took a stab at the actual work. Would that take your mind off of it?”
Ati looked at him sharply. “Me? Your work? Leras, I can't—”
“Years of coming here and you still say that? You’ve been watching me do this more times than I had watched my own master! Ati, if there's one person I would trust with my work, it's you.”
“I'll ruin it.”
“Maybe. But isn’t this what always happens? Things break. Something is ruined, yes, but you make something else out of it. That's life. You can't mold the metal if you don't melt it first.” Leras slipped the hammer into his hand. “We'll fix anything you may break. But if you ask me, I don't think that will happen.”
Ati seemed thoughtful, considering. He did want to feel like he was helping, Leras knew. He had long suspected one reason Ati cared about his work was simply because Leras did too. The man could be bold when he wanted, but there was a hesitant aspect to him when it came to what he thought he couldn't do.
In the end, Ati sighed and, finally, nodded. He gripped the hammer in two hands and stepped over to the anvil. He brushed his fingers over the smooth surface.
“You know,” he said softly, not looking up. “I never knew you for a philosopher.”
Leras laughed, causing Ati to grin too. He was glad to realize his laughter was also contagious to the other. “There is a lot of time to think about the cosmere when you don't have to go from one extravagant gathering to the other.”
Ati rolled his eyes at him, still smiling as he started to hit the hammer back at the anvil in the same familiar beat.