► In continuation of Hair Cut.
“Fille, bring em’ rain guards- em’ rain-n guard-s ere’-” Haywood shouted to the back of the forge but the series of wheezes and spluttering coughs stopped him mid-sentence.
“As you ask Master.” Fillegedhiel laid her crafted rain guards on his work station and hid a look of concern amidst the morning fog. She knew better than to openly express her worry towards his health but was smart enough to find ways around it.
“I won’t be needin’ yer to go minin' t’day lass. Yer stay ere’ and elp’ me wit’ ese’ orders.” his raspy voice strained against his rib cage as he ran a weary finger over the list of names.
“Surely not…” she placed both hands on her hips and grumbled in annoyance, “…you’ve thrown me out before dawn for seven days and seven nights Master, in the rain too I might add and now you ask me to stay-“
“I says yer be stayin’ and stayin’ ere’ yer'll be!” Haywood interrupted her with a grief-stricken cry as his heavy fist bashed the table. It was not his nature to emit such anger and seeing her arms out above her face made him regret the action instantly. Mentally scolding himself, he grabbed the smithing hammer and continued tempering an unfinished sword.
“A-As you wish Master.” her voice was as faint as a dying heart. The only sound between them now was the clinking of metal, "clink, clink, clink", she murmured, as if willing herself to desperately stray from the growing confusion in her mind. Her body felt like lead but she forced herself to work and without thought reached out for a cooling piece of metal on the bench, "bloody ashes!"
"Yer’ve gon’ and don’ it now aven’t yer’. Burnt ands’ ain’t gonna make quick work of ese’ orders!" Haywood yelled again but in a tone she was more familiar. He immediately dropped his hammer and pulled out an old handkerchief to dip in a bowl of cool rain water. Rushing to her side, he yanked at her wrist and wrapped the wet cloth around it tightly.
“It is but small, I am well.” she pouted but at second glance realised his rough hands were still firmly pressed against her palms. Her mouth twisted to one corner as she knew this unnatural act of closeness was his way of apologizing. Nodding slyly in acceptance of it, they both shared an embarrassed laugh before his hand patted her hair like a small stray dog.
"Yer take em' orse' master's ord- or- order- s-" Haywood wheezed heavily as he went into one of his regular coughing fits. Stumbling into the back room, the sound of glasses could be heard as he attempted to make himself some hot tea. Fillegedhiel shook her head knowing she had made him the last of it yesterday and went to grab her purse to visit the nearby market.
"Coney's, Coney's ere' but fifty six coppa’s!" shouted a seller as she budged past a growing crowd towards the herbalist. Stepping up to the small stall she offers the flaxen haired woman a warm smile, "...you were right, his wheezing has gotten better!" she chuckled seeming pleased and gestured for another bag of licorice root tea.
“THIEF!” a loud voice shrieked as in one swift motion, she turned to eye a hooded stranger with brilliant green eyes pointing at her, “Thief! This woman is a thief! Guards, guards!”. Her eyes bulged as the curious flock of people enveloped her in a suffocating ring. She felt her lungs constrict as she tried to deny the claims yet the more she objected the louder the stranger screamed.
“I am no thief! I am no thief I tell you!” her cries were muted as within seconds the commotion had attracted a mass of people from the streets. They pulled and tugged at her clothes in naive confusion as the hooded figure dragged over a haughty guard. Side by side they stood, the stranger looking more feminine now beside the brute of a man, as they watched the crowd play tug-of-war with the supposed thief's arms.
"Restrain her!" the stranger's words erupted clearer this time, her voice an exotic mixture of Westron and something strange. The guard looked at Fillegedhiel with queer eyes as he went to lunge at her but was stopped short as Haywood bolted in to block the blow. She winced at the action and before her eyes flew open again the hooded woman had disappeared, completely.
“Wha’s tha bloody meanin’ of this!” he yelled as his blood-shot eyes darted between his apprentice and the guard. The old man's firm hand gripped onto her neck and pulled her in beside him protectively, “…she ain't no thief I tell yer’, t’is me own! If ere’ be problems yer be takin’ it up wit me, son!” he glared at the guard who seemed to recognize the weaponsmith and backed away slowly. Without another word Haywood proceeded to shove Fillegedhiel out of the crowd and down the market steps as quickly as possible.
Whisperings of the word "thief" could still be heard, yet before they made it back to the forge Haywood had yanked at her neck again and with arms wide open shuffled around erratically. He seemed startled by something and looked around in what could only be described as utterly confusing behavior to Fillegedhiel. She had never seen him like this and followed the grimace in his eyes to what she thought was a faint glimpse of the green-eyed woman standing amongst the market dwellers again.
"Back t’ tha forge Fille!" he pushed her forwards clearly still distracted.
“Wait…Master!" she huffed yet he didn’t relent against her protest.
“I says back! he grabbed at her collar and dragged her along the road like a spoilt child.
“Haywood...HAYWOOD!” she screamed and roughly shoved his arm away from her neck, "...you’ve seen her before haven’t you, the woman?”
His sullen eyes swiveled back and forth around them before settling on her face with a permanent dent in his brow.
“Haven’t you!”
