third day

[aimedforthemoon]

The third day is spent much as the second: in forge.
Nine days," he says. "Nine days you will spend with me, one for each of the nine years my wife and I were together.
She's making a bird, adapted from the model planes Esfir knows so well. The radio part is easy; making it look like a swan is not. Still, she's talented, and has been throwing herself into it, and things are coming together.
You cannot escape
The swan is for not her, not for him, but for the lovely, silent woman Weyland keeps around.
and you cannot ask me to let you go.
(only half of it is because he asked to be surprised)
You will not return to the bar during those nine days
But after so many hours, her heart isn't in it anymore. She looks up, rubs the back of her neck (ignoring the oil and grime on her hands)

(nine days)
and suddenly stares at him, eyes narrowed.

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

Weyland is working in the forge as well, though not the sort of blood-and-sacrifices crafting he does when making his more extreme commissions. Today, it is a simple bit of adornment, hairpins for his mechanical woman, in the shape of autumn leaves.

His mechanical woman, for her part, is off in the kitchen preparing dinner.

[aimedforthemoon]

(nine days)

She bows her head, tightens a screw, checks the join of body and wing and it will hold.

(I'll fight for you)

She'll fly true, Yesfir thinks, even as she gets up and mutters something to Weyland about going out to test her. Outside is still, still and with a blood-stained sky and it makes her think of Jupiter, and screaming, and if she didn't need the openess of the forge and this, she'd ask him to go back-

(nine days)

Slowly, she looks up at the sky.

The sun is setting.

(Han's in a war.)

The sun is setting.

(She gave her word.)

The sun is setting and suddenly she can't breathe.

[mechanicalswans]

He follows her outside, though he stays near the door, letting her have her space. He doesn't want to risk anything hurting her; he had given his word that she would be returned, and while the creatures of this particular realm usually keep clear of the forge, there are no guarantees. She isn't of this world, anyone can see that.

It always comes to this. Those who can fly cannot be caged.

He lights a cigarette, looking off into the distance.

[aimedforthemoon]

The little bird isn't painted, not yet, and the dying sun glints off the dull metal as Esfir sends her into flight.

(nine days)

She was right; she flies true and steady and the radio works, even here.

(nine days)

A short flight, because it's twilight now, and when she picks up the swan, she cradles it gently.

(nine days)

(it's still light)

(not yet)

"Would your - other - wife, like this?" She asks, still staring at the western sky.

[mechanicalswans]

"The Valkyrie, or the mechanical one?" he asks, and takes a drag on the cigarette. "My beloved Hervor would have hated it here. She was a creature of light, more so than fire. She was a Valkyrie--they were much more pure than this. She never spent much time in the forge, though we were always together when I had finished for the day."

He chuckles quietly, without much amusement. "Unless you mean my little game. She would not have liked what I have become, but what I have become is the absence of her. With her, I was very different."

[aimedforthemoon]

A faint smile.

"The swan I am making is for Mireille. Would she like it, do you think?"

There is the sense, however slight, that she is repeating her question.

[mechanicalswans]

"...oh," he says, with another chuckle, a more awkward one. "Yes, I think she would. I am the only one who ever gives her gifts. It may confuse her, but I think she would be happy."

[aimedforthemoon]

"Good. She's a kind woman."

[mechanicalswans]

"She is almost everything I could ask for, and her failings are not her fault but mine."

Another drag on the cigarette. "And she puts up with my failings very graciously. Very patiently. And I know she will always be here when I come home."

[aimedforthemoon]

"That is important to you?"

[mechanicalswans]

"If someone you care about is always there when you come home, well, you always know where they are. I like dependability."

His mechanical woman is physically unable to leave him the way his Valkyrie did. It may seem cruel, but having an anchor helps him, and that is better for everyone involved.

[aimedforthemoon]

"Like when you give someone your word."

[mechanicalswans]

"Of course," he nods. "As a craftsman, my word is my reputation. Someone hires me to make something, and I have it done exactly as they asked, at the time I said it would be done, and for the price we agreed on. I could not have a shop otherwise."

[aimedforthemoon]

"I gave someone my word in the bar."

(I'll fight for you)

[mechanicalswans]

"So did I, once," he says. "I've not yet been able to carry it out, but sometimes things take time."

He flicks some ashes at the ground. "You are not happy here."

[aimedforthemoon]

"I do not mind retreats.

It is cages I object to."

[mechanicalswans]

"You are not caged here," he says with a light shrug, "merely... protected, I suppose? There are things out there, and out in the city, that would attack and devour you. Your existence here is unnatural, and that will attract attention. Nine days is not enough time to learn all the ways to defeat them... though I am sure you could learn."

[aimedforthemoon]

"And I would be interested."

Every word is spoken very, very precisely.

"But I gave my word to my friend, that I would fight in his war. To do that I need to train.

And I cannot train here."

[mechanicalswans]

"You could train here, but I imagine the sort of war he has is different than the sort of wars we have here."

It stands to reason. Theirs are part magic, part sheer brutality.

"Still, there are some things that would translate..."

[aimedforthemoon]

"Flying a little plane faster than sound?"

[mechanicalswans]

"Reflexes," he says. "Depth perception, courage--though you certainly have that already. Knowing what risks are acceptable to take and which are not worth it. Mostly what you already have, but tuned and enhanced."

[aimedforthemoon]

"Sounds very useful. Would you care to teach me tomorrow?"

[mechanicalswans]

"Anything you like," he nods. "There is a small private airport near here where I sometimes go to fly more conventional airplanes... we could go there, if you like. Daring maneuvers with Hildegard are different, because she corrects for things and will not allow a crash. Airplanes, it is just you and your own skills. In the end, you are all you have to rely on."

[aimedforthemoon]

"I was in the Soviet airforce for eight years."

Beat.

"Your war sounds interesting."

Beat.

"So, I'll go back to Milliways tonight, practice on the sims there, and tomorrow here, we fly."

[mechanicalswans]

"War is interesting when it is the punctuation between stretches of peace," he says. "Not when it is a constant thing."

He takes a final drag on the cigarette before tossing it at a patch of stones nearby.

"You will have a hard time getting back there on your own, won't you."