The days shortened as fall slowly rolled into winter. Roy adjusted to his new surroundings. No drunken yelling in the wee hours of the morning, no one to mistakenly fall into Roy’s tent in the middle of the night. It was so quiet that Roy could barely sleep.

The distant murmurs of two men roused Roy from his slumber. He groaned, looking up at the rich wooden beams that held the roof. His arms ached; his chest felt like it was about to burst into flames. Despite the pain, Roy hadn’t slept that soundly in months. A slammed door snapped Roy’s eyes open. Viola stepped into the hearth, tossing another log into the brick fireplace. She stabbed at it with a hot poker, rolling it deeper into the pit. Roy watched her, his head resting on his satchel. The carefree way in which she pranced about the home, the sweet flowery scent that came off of her when she passed by. Roy watched when she wasn’t looking, heavy eyes comforted by her presence. When she turned to face him, Roy shut his eyes quickly. She walked towards the door, stopping for a moment to check on him.

“Is he awake?” Arthur smirked as Viola appeared from the hearth. She shook her head, stepping into the smithy with a shrug.

“He’s out cold.” Viola said, “Can we go easy on him today?”

“He’ll get used to it.” Arthur chuckled, turning his gaze back to the man in dull plate armor before him, “The daggers are nearly ready, Herr Klaus.”

“Very good.” Herr Klaus acknowledged with warmth in his cheeks, “You have a visitor?”

“I took on an apprentice. He’s been smithing with us for about a week, now.”

“I thought Viola’d be your pupil.” Klaus asked.

The door opened. A dark-haired child spilled out, stumbling down the steps. He yawned, blinked, then looked at Arthur like a geriatric horse. Cup in hand, he walked towards one of the water barrels around the smithy. Klaus was met with his emerald eyes and appeared disappointed. It was a look Roy had gotten many times before. He refused to let it bother him, adjusting the straps of his satchel.

“Not that one!” Arthur called out to Roy, pointing at the correct barrel. Roy tried to match the gesture, but his left arm stopped at half-height. Roy fastened an apron to his body. He inhaled deeply, ladling water into his mouth with his hands, “And use the fuckin’ ladle!”

“Becker expects the delivery in four days.” Klaus said.

“Of course, sir. I won’t keep him waiting any longer.” Arthur nodded.

“Sir?” Klaus shook his head, “I should be addressing you as such, Dragonguard.”

“Roy, you look like you returned from the dead!” Arthur called as the boy sat near the bucket, waiting patiently for orders, “You up to the task today?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Yes.” Roy blinked slowly, “What needs to be done?”

“Boy, the forge hasn’t even been heated yet!” Arthur pointed at the pile of wood and coal on the side of the smithy, “Your persistence is surprising. Let’s see how long it lasts.” Arthur smacked the back of Roy’s shoulder with a chuckle. Roy felt a shimmer of something in the back of his mind.

“I could… light the forge?” Roy asked, but Arthur waved the notion away.

“I can handle it.”

“He likes fire.” Viola smirked, “Best to leave now before he causes an explosion.”

“Just a little forge salt; it’s harmless. Oh, Viola, meat for the stewpot tonight.” Arthur snapped his fingers. Viola’s eyebrows raised, her head nodding in recollection.

“Be careful, Dad.” Viola said, “You just got your eyebrows back.”

Arthur stared at the boy from the corner of his eye before tapping him on the back, shoving a small purse of coins into his hands. Roy stepped past Klaus awkwardly as he walked brusquely to catch up with Viola. Roy’s eyes gazed up at the captain for a moment. Klaus had a stern, unchanging expression. His eyes scanning the boy for every little detail as though he were sketching out a wanted poster.

“How long has that been going on?” Klaus asked.

“Roy’s been here about… two, three weeks? Started living with us not long ago.”

“Ursine, Arthur?”

“Yeah, what of it?” Arthur said, “He’s just a boy, Klaus. He’s shown no ill towards us.” His confident expression did not dissuade the skeptical look on Klaus’ face.

“You know him less than a month, now he lives with you.”

“What are you getting at?” Arthur crossed his arms, “He’s a good kid, a hard worker. I’m not giving my skills away to a boy who won’t respect it.”

“You’re cheating local boys of a future by taking on this…” He shook his head, gesturing as he tried to find the word, “Outlander.”

“Last time I let Sam help he nearly set a cask of forge salt on fire.”

“You just said it was harmless.”

“Yeah, in pinches. A handful of it could blow up the forge.”

Klaus looked at Roy and Viola just before they crossed the bridge, well out of earshot of their conversation. Arthur could see the judgmental glare in Klaus’ eyes, but he didn’t care enough to bring it up.

“I would’ve taught Sam, but he’s too damn arrogant.” Arthur said.

Klaus’ mouth shortened. He inhaled deep enough for Arthur to hear, like a boar ready to charge at a moment’s notice.

“Sam is predictable. Roy is unknown to us. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” Klaus said, “The wandering masses often give birth to wicked souls.”

“Take those tomatoes off your eyes. You might be able to see a boy instead of some demon.”

“He will take advantage of you. This I know.” Klaus said, “Watch your back, Arthur.”