Page 63 of A Spark So Bright
They headed away from the castle, clambering over the massive roots to take a shorter route to the heart of the city. All the lights were lit, signifying that it was considered daylight inTrollveggen. Afternoon, if she had to guess. She'd been sleeping far too long, apparently.
It was pretty here. All the lights hanging off the houses were so delicate, little wisps collected in glasses that were in every different color. She'd asked once why they were a rainbow of colors, and the answer was always the same. Because they could be. Some were stained glass, depicting stories from the ancient trolls. All the houses were sturdy and squat, all around the stone path that led in a meandering way through the streets.
Rose had fallen in love with it the first moment she'd seen it. Even surrounded by a crowd that made her feel so uncomfortable, she had been so in love. The quaint feeling here, the warmth that radiated from all the houses, the glass panels that gave her glimpses into other people's lives, it had made her heart soar.
Not to mention there were pretty blue stars all above their heads. Glowworms, she knew now, but the first time she'd been here they had looked like stars.
Gunnar barely even looked at her as they went, and there was a tense set to his shoulders that made her question where they were going. Why was he so on edge? Were they doing something dangerous?
It seemed unlikely. He rarely took her anywhere that was even questionably dangerous, let alone somewhere he should be this uncomfortable about.
But maybe he was just nervous. She guessed she was a little as well.
And there was that strange sensation in her chest. It was a little bit of bravery and a little bit of softness, all without even a single hint of fear.
Live, Rhydian had told her. She had to live to go back, and she supposed this was part of it. Or maybe that was just her excuse to hurry up a little and slip her hand into Gunnar’s.
"Where are we going?" she asked, trying very hard not to let her voice shake and call out the fact that she was so afraid that touching him like this would make her anxious again. And it might. There was always a risk that any contact would make her remember things she didn't want to remember.
It didn't, though. Instead, she walked beside him and looked up into his shocked expression, and she felt pride.
Rose had made him feel like that. She'd made him stumble and then clear his throat awkwardly. All because she had grabbed his hand on her own, and because she had done it without him even asking her to do so.
Biting her lip so she didn't smile, because she wasn't quite ready for that yet, Rose turned her attention to the street he had led them to.
"The smithy?" she asked, a little surprised at the direction this was taking. "Why would you bring me to the smithy?"
"I had something I wanted to show you," he said, his voice lower than normal, more gruff. "Come on, Rose."
The smithy was one of the few places she hadn't ever gone into. The building itself was a lurking monolith that belched black clouds into the clean air of Trollveggen. The outside was made entirely of stone, as was everything inside of it, she'd heard. That way, the fires in the massive forges wouldn't get out and cause any chaos. The domed exterior was dotted with countless chimneys, making it almost appear to be some kind of quilled monster, just waiting to get up and lurch out of sight.
Swallowing hard, Rose tried not to look at all the black smudges that dotted the stones and plunged through the front door with Gunnar.
Heat blasted her in the face, so searing it almost took her breath away. She could smell metal in the air, and the strange scent of fire that was always a little acrid. Clanging noises echoedthroughout the entire space, bouncing off the tall ceilings and falling back down like arrows raining down on her head.
She waited for the sounds to overwhelm her. For the clanging and the hammers and everything to just be too much. But they weren't.
They weren't pleasant. She didn't know how anyone spent their days here, every day, endlessly hammering metal into a shape that they could be pleased with.
But she didn't want to plug her ears and curl up in a ball. And besides, no one was rushing her. Gunnar stood right next to her, his strong hand holding hers with a reassurance that she didn't remember ever feeling in her life. He waited. Without pressuring her, without pushing her, just waited until he could be certain she was used to the sounds.
Then, at her nod, he drew her further inside. There were only a few blacksmiths working right now. They were massive trolls, rippling with muscles, with huge guts that maybe helped them lift and work the metal. She watched as one of their arms bulged, the troll bending what looked like a plate of metal into a shield, as easily as though it were string.
"Most blacksmiths are done for the day," Gunnar said, his voice clear as daylight even amid all the sound. "They work early in the morning when it is cooler in here."
"That makes sense." Already a bead of sweat was rolling down the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades.
But Gunnar dragged her far away from the fires and out the back. There was another forge out here, but it was much smaller. One that was clearly meant for more detailed work.
A couple of chairs were sitting next to it, along with a pile of what looked like gold wire. It wasn't much, and she still wasn't sure how this was a date, but she sat when Gunnar gestured to a chair.
She was too short for it. Her feet dangled awkwardly, so she crossed her legs on the chair that had clearly been built for trolls much larger than her.
Gunnar sat down in front of her and took a deep, awkward breath. Finally, he released it and said, "I don't usually do this."
"Do what?"
He shrugged. "Date? I don't talk to women."
