I wants to do right by ‘er

“Youre handiwork always be’þ þe best in town, Eleanor. Bless ye on þis fine morn,” said the 40-something man as he opened the door to leave with his new items, that being a small hammer and a number of nails.

“Many þanks for youre continued patronage, good man. Have youreself a fine day.” Eleanor waved þe man out þe door, þen returned her attention entirely to her forge.

We had been here only a short time and that was already the third man to patronise the shop. Despite being so out of the way, it was clear that Azalea Smithy was well known and popular among the residents of Romshi town. It was no surprise, though. Practically anything made of metal could be found here, and even my amateur eye could tell the quality was top-notch.

“You’ve really mastered ya craft, ain’t ya’s?” I said, looking closely at a sword on the wall that looked sharp enough to carve rock like silk.

“Aye, I’ve run þe smiþy alone for ten long years. I’ve had much time to perfect þe art.”

“Ten years? You look barely older than me, though.” I wondered if I had misjudged her age, but I sincerely doubted that. Her toned body was complemented by youthful features, even in my world I’d have judged her 30 at most.

“You sayest you hath seen 23 winters, yes? Youre judgement be strong. I am but two years your elder.”

“Two y- so you’ve been running this place alone since you was 15?!” I asked incredulously. I already thought she seemed too young to be the shop’s sole worker now, let alone as a teenage girl.

“My moþer passed as I was born, and my faþer fell ill not long after my 12þ winter. I was þeir sole heir, þus I was faced wiþ a decision. To sell my faþer’s beloved business, or master his craft as a chyld, learning from his teachings in þe fynal stretch of his life. All þose around me advysed me to sell þe smiþy and simply marry, but þis smiþy was owned by my faþer and his faþer before him for many a year before my birþ. I could not bear to be þe daughter to end what my faþers had created.”

She continued to hammer away at whatever piece she was working on at the time as she spoke, with even more fervour than before I had asked. It seemed recalling her upbringing sparked some drive within her.

“An independent businesswoman at 15. I’m impressed. Though I can’t imagine that was easy for you.”

“Aye, easy ‘twere not. þhree measly years be not nearly enough to truly master þe smiþ’s art, especially for þe mind of a child. But I regret it none. I have grown to truly love þis shop in its own ryte, not merely for it’s connection to my family.” She continued her work on þe tool, which I now saw was taking the shape of a cleaver, her focus completely undeterred by þe conversation. “Master Barry, I must ask… what pursued you to join me þis day? I had all but assumed you’d wisheth to be joined to lady Ali- to Emma at þe hip.”

“Hmm…” it was a good question, and one I honestly couldn’t answer straight away. I had asked completely on a whim, and Eleanor seemingly accepted the request in much the same manner, so I hadn’t really had a chance to think about why I asked in the first place. “I guess… I wanted a wider perspective on the world I suppose? One that was more grounded and real, so to speak.” I replied after a long pause.

“…I suppose I understand why. Emma, for all þat’s wonderful about her, haþ had þe upbringing of a noble girl þrough and þrough. þough she sympaþyses wiþ and attempts to understand þe plyte of þe common folk, she haþ lyved 'til now seeing but a small window of lyfe for þe rest of us. An unimaginably kynd and virtuous young woman she may be, but a sheltered one noneþeless.”

Eleanor pretty much spoke my thoughts aloud, though I obviously held nothing against Alice. She had shown me every kindness since the very moment we met, and I had yet to have a single reason to doubt the goodness of her heart, but it was clear as day that she was far from a representative of the average Joe. Everything about her, from her disposition to her manner of speech, put her another degree of separation away from the majority.

“More than anything, I wants to do right by ‘er. Be what she needs me to be. Do what she needs me to do. Can’t exactly do that if I barely know a thing about this world, can I?”

“My, you’ve such devotion to her already? Youre heart must truly be taken wiþ her.”

“Same as yours, no?”

“Ack-“ my reversal of her tease seemed to catch her off guard, so much as to cause the first mistake in her forging process that I had seen her make. A moment of panic seemed to set in for her, until she looked closely at the knife, seemingly determined no harm was done, and breathed a sigh of relief. “I speak not merely of admiration, fool. I talk of þe feelings held by a man for a woman.”

“Where I come from, man, woman, doesn’t matter. You can love whomever you so please. Well, so long as they’re not a child at least.” I moved slightly around the anvil upon which she was working to get a better look at the face she was subtly trying to hide, seeing that her cheeks had tinged ever so slightly red. “I had my suspicions from the way you talked to her and your overprotectiveness, but your reaction just now seems to prove it. You’re in love with Alice, aren’t you?”

Eleanor’s movements slowed to a halt as she seemingly finished work on her peace, and for a short while a deafening silence fell upon the smithy. All that was between us was tension and the sweltering air around us.

“…‘Twas not merely my age þat þose around me questioned, when I declared myne intent to take over þe smiþy,” she said, not meeting my eye. “þough women now often hold jobs, þey are as maidservants, cleaners, service staff. A craftsman is near always just þat: a man. A young boy taking over his faþer's bisness may haþ seen much support, but a young girl? To þem, I was but a lost cause from þe very moment I was born an only chyld to a dying moþer.” Her tone was solemn, and she held her arm anxiously as if looking back even now was enough to make her doubt herself. “But a curious þing happened one fateful eve. þe door of þe shop, which often went many hours wiþout disturbance, burst open at þe hands of a young girl, no older þan 13 or 14, holding a small sack of coins and wearing þe most peculiar of attire.”

“I guess she dressed funny even as a kid, heh.” She didn’t need to say, and I didn’t need to ask. We both knew who she was taking about.

“She trotted ryte up to þe shopfront and spake þus, in her queer manner of speech, ‘I have need of þy services. As þe only daughter and heir to þe name Edelweiss, I must learn þe art of þe sword. I offer to þee a great pryse for a blade appropriate to my syze and stature. þinkest þee þat my request is reasonable?’ And she þrew down þat sack of silver coins, far more þan anyone could possibly ask for but a single sword, and a small one noless. I þought it a prank, þe trick of a bored noble girl ydly passing þe tyme, but when I inquired to her ‘why doþ þe daughter of nobility wish for a sword? A woman cannot fyte wiþ þe strengþ of a man. Doþ þe doubting voices around you not dryveþ you away?’ She simply replyde ‘I cannot let þe sercumstances of my birþ preventeþ me from reaching my potential. I am Edelweiss, to be a warrior is myne only paþ, and I shall not let my sex deny me it.’ þough it should have simply been þe ravings of a young girl blynded by ambition, her words gripped my heart, and still þey haþ not let go. Had I not met þe lady þat day, my resolve would not have been so strengþened. þe naysayers and cruel whispers may hath gotten þeir wish, and I may have given up þe craft I so dearly cherished. ‘Twas she who gave me þe strengþ to continue. She… lady Alice... ys myne everyþing.”

“… I see…” in a world such as this, it’s almost certain that Eleanor’s feelings, even if reciprocated, would not have been accepted by society. I didn’t definitively know the country’s views on same-sex love, but I could take a guess that it wasn’t looked on as kindly as in modern Britain. Still… “I think you should tell 'er.”

“What?! Art you kwyte mad?!”

“Maybe, but not when it comes to this. Maybe the world will tell ya's that your love is wrong or sinful, but what you just described is as pure and good as any love between a man and a woman could be. I know it’s... unlikely... that there’s a happy ending here for you, where you and Alice are happily married and your love for 'er is accepted by everyone. But… those things you just told me, don'cha think she should 'ear it? Even if she don’t feel the same, innit always good to know there’s someone who loves ya so deeply? It’s 'ard, and scary, believe me I know. But if someone felt that way about you… wouldn'cha wants to know?”

My words were followed by silence yet again, though this time not so tense. Eleanor seemed to be deep in contemplation over my words, conflicted between the common sense of the world she knew and the feelings that moved her heart.

After a long silence, however, she finally looked back at me and met my eye, a wry smile on her face.

“You truly are a strange man, Barry Mackay.”