Rainbow the Blacksmith
Convincing a cyclops to let her use his tools and workshop was actually quite easy. He just made her promise not to damage any of it. Theoria felt grateful, and decided she might even leave him a feather in thanks.
The celestial bronze, on the other hand, was a pain in the rear to get her hooves on. Her first thought had been to go beg a weapon off of her sisters, the Keres. But then she thought that Doris might not want a weapon that had been acquired through someone's violent death, and the Keres were always… unpleasant to be around in any case. They were far too obsessed with death for it to be healthy.
So instead she'd gone to her half-sister, Philotes. Among other things, Philotes was the personification of friendship. Theoria figured that she might be willing to help source materials for a gift for a friend, or would at least not laugh in her face for asking.
Philotes was… eager to help. Too eager, to the point of making it uncomfortable to be around her. Especially with the innuendoes. So many innuendoes. Eventually Theoria had gotten fed up with them and quickly, but politely, excused herself from her sister's presence.
Now she was all set up to make Doris a spear. She got a flame roaring in the furnace, gathered all the scraps of celestial bronze that would be melted into the spear, and waited patiently for the fire to heat up. Then she frowned.
Now what?
She critically examined the formless hunk of metal that would become the spear tip, which currently glowed softly with from the heat within. At this temperature it was malleable enough to work with. Well, she hoped it was malleable enough, she hadn't done this before.
She raised a hoof into the air, and then brought it down forcefully onto the metal.
Clang!
But instead of flattening part of it like she'd expected, the metal piece shot off like a cannonball. It collided with the far wall with a dull thunk, and then clattered to the ground. Theoria looked back to her hoof, and frowned. She probably should have secured the metal before she struck it.
She once again examined the glowing piece of metal. Unlike before, it was carefully cradled by her hind legs into position for the main strike. Once again she raised her hoof high into the air, and then brought it down hard.
Clang!
She raised the now wafer-thin piece of metal up to her eyes. It was completely unsuitable for anything, other than perhaps a pancake substitute. She almost nibbled on it to check the taste, but stopped herself. This was a gift, not a snack.
Now had the metal been too hot and soft or her strike too hard?
Finally having wrangled the metal into something resembling a spear tip, she put the glowing-hot piece down so that she could work on the shaft. She would come back and put some finishing touches on it later, all it would need was a little heat.
Making the shaft was not any easier. She had to keep it straight, keep it round, and keep it in one piece. What she finally ended up with was noticeably bent, but that could be stomped out later. It was time to join the tip to the shaft.
But there was a problem. Namely that since she had put the tip down, gravity had bent it out of shape and it now resembled… well a limp noodle was a delicate way of putting it.
Was she supposed to have dunked it in water, or was that just for swords? Did she heat it up too much? Did she stop working the metal too soon? Were the scraps she was working with of poor quality? Was that Philotes giggling in the background?
The cyclops was oddly amiable to the idea of assisting her. It seemed like he had been expecting this all along.
"You at least seem to have had a vague idea of what you were doing. This is a personal piece, or a gift, am I right?"
She nodded.
"Yeah, everyone always wants a personal touch on things like that. Tell you what, I saw what you could do with those bare hooves, I'll let you hammer the tip once or twice. Of course I'll still touch it up afterwards, but this way you can legitimately say you had a hand, er, hoof in its construction."
"Alright, now hit it with all your might."
She raised an eyebrow one inch. "Are you sure that is wise?"
The cyclops waved off her concern. "This is celestial bronze, it can take it. Besides, I'll be holding it still."
She reluctantly complied, and brought a hoof down at full force.
Boom!
The metal object exploded, showering the room in shrapnel. Thankfully the two of them escaped with nothing worse than minor injuries, but it had been a narrow thing. She lightly rubbed a new scratch along her neck and shivered.
"Alright, we'll tone it down on the next try." Said the cyclops.
Theoria smiled as she laid the gift in front of Doris.
"This is great! I was kind of getting worried without a weapon once I realized that I gave Custer's sword to Emily to keep, not as a loaner. Poor wording on my part, I kind of liked having that thing around."
There was a funny feeling inside her chest. She decided she liked it.
"There's just one thing."
Her face fell. What was wrong with it? She was sure that with the assistance of the cyclops that the weapon had turned out perfectly.
"You do know that there is a piece of celestial bronze melted into your mane, right?"
Damn it!
The celestial bronze, on the other hand, was a pain in the rear to get her hooves on. Her first thought had been to go beg a weapon off of her sisters, the Keres. But then she thought that Doris might not want a weapon that had been acquired through someone's violent death, and the Keres were always… unpleasant to be around in any case. They were far too obsessed with death for it to be healthy.
So instead she'd gone to her half-sister, Philotes. Among other things, Philotes was the personification of friendship. Theoria figured that she might be willing to help source materials for a gift for a friend, or would at least not laugh in her face for asking.
Philotes was… eager to help. Too eager, to the point of making it uncomfortable to be around her. Especially with the innuendoes. So many innuendoes. Eventually Theoria had gotten fed up with them and quickly, but politely, excused herself from her sister's presence.
Now she was all set up to make Doris a spear. She got a flame roaring in the furnace, gathered all the scraps of celestial bronze that would be melted into the spear, and waited patiently for the fire to heat up. Then she frowned.
Now what?
She critically examined the formless hunk of metal that would become the spear tip, which currently glowed softly with from the heat within. At this temperature it was malleable enough to work with. Well, she hoped it was malleable enough, she hadn't done this before.
She raised a hoof into the air, and then brought it down forcefully onto the metal.
Clang!
But instead of flattening part of it like she'd expected, the metal piece shot off like a cannonball. It collided with the far wall with a dull thunk, and then clattered to the ground. Theoria looked back to her hoof, and frowned. She probably should have secured the metal before she struck it.
She once again examined the glowing piece of metal. Unlike before, it was carefully cradled by her hind legs into position for the main strike. Once again she raised her hoof high into the air, and then brought it down hard.
Clang!
She raised the now wafer-thin piece of metal up to her eyes. It was completely unsuitable for anything, other than perhaps a pancake substitute. She almost nibbled on it to check the taste, but stopped herself. This was a gift, not a snack.
Now had the metal been too hot and soft or her strike too hard?
Finally having wrangled the metal into something resembling a spear tip, she put the glowing-hot piece down so that she could work on the shaft. She would come back and put some finishing touches on it later, all it would need was a little heat.
Making the shaft was not any easier. She had to keep it straight, keep it round, and keep it in one piece. What she finally ended up with was noticeably bent, but that could be stomped out later. It was time to join the tip to the shaft.
But there was a problem. Namely that since she had put the tip down, gravity had bent it out of shape and it now resembled… well a limp noodle was a delicate way of putting it.
Was she supposed to have dunked it in water, or was that just for swords? Did she heat it up too much? Did she stop working the metal too soon? Were the scraps she was working with of poor quality? Was that Philotes giggling in the background?
The cyclops was oddly amiable to the idea of assisting her. It seemed like he had been expecting this all along.
"You at least seem to have had a vague idea of what you were doing. This is a personal piece, or a gift, am I right?"
She nodded.
"Yeah, everyone always wants a personal touch on things like that. Tell you what, I saw what you could do with those bare hooves, I'll let you hammer the tip once or twice. Of course I'll still touch it up afterwards, but this way you can legitimately say you had a hand, er, hoof in its construction."
"Alright, now hit it with all your might."
She raised an eyebrow one inch. "Are you sure that is wise?"
The cyclops waved off her concern. "This is celestial bronze, it can take it. Besides, I'll be holding it still."
She reluctantly complied, and brought a hoof down at full force.
Boom!
The metal object exploded, showering the room in shrapnel. Thankfully the two of them escaped with nothing worse than minor injuries, but it had been a narrow thing. She lightly rubbed a new scratch along her neck and shivered.
"Alright, we'll tone it down on the next try." Said the cyclops.
Theoria smiled as she laid the gift in front of Doris.
"This is great! I was kind of getting worried without a weapon once I realized that I gave Custer's sword to Emily to keep, not as a loaner. Poor wording on my part, I kind of liked having that thing around."
There was a funny feeling inside her chest. She decided she liked it.
"There's just one thing."
Her face fell. What was wrong with it? She was sure that with the assistance of the cyclops that the weapon had turned out perfectly.
"You do know that there is a piece of celestial bronze melted into your mane, right?"
Damn it!