Strong Sword Arm
Title: Strong Sword Arm (AO3)
Pairing: Jo/Crossover (Daja Kibuso)
Type (friendship, romantic, other--please specify): romantic
Rating: PG
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): Fic
Word Count (if applicable): 1100
Fandom (if crossover): Circle of Magic [Emelan books]
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Daja trusted Tris enough to participate in an experiment. She didn't think her foster sister would get her stuck in another world when people didn't speak any of the languages she knew and where all of her money would be useless. Still, she's good with her hands and when a blond girl comes knocking, Daja can repair her sword, and maybe find a little companionship.
Warnings: Spoilers for The Will of the Empress.
Daja Kibuso gave her bellows another pump and checked the rods she had heating in the fire. The set up here wasn't ideal, but it was the best she'd been able to cobble together with her broken English and few coins. It was all Tris' fault that she was here, the portal had gotten stuck in some odd land with no Winding Circle temples, no blacksmiths and no one that understood any language she spoke.
There wasn't much work for smiths here. Daja had gone into a store looking to buy food once and found huge containers of nails, hinges and metal bars. The shopkeeper hadn't been able to explain where they came from, or he hadn't understood her question, but they didn't need apprentices to make nails here. She still had the living metal covering her hand, but it grew slowly and they had other things here, odd metals and something called plastic which replaced metal in everyday life.
Still, Daja had found a little work as a smith. There were still people who hired her to makes nails, boxes, and occasionally pieces of artwork. She'd made a metal suit of armour for a man who was so fat she couldn't imagine he was a warrior of any kind. People came to her small house and asked her to make things, she made them draw pictures, even after two years she understood very little of their language.
Today, Daja was making things for herself. A family of farmers had agreed to let her live on their land in exchange for her help on their farm and the use of her services as a blacksmith. They didn't have the odd driving machines or the lights that flicked on and off with a switch. Together, they'd built a small house, just one room, for her to live in, next to her smithy. There was time today and Daja was working on a frame for her bed. There wasn't any word in the area and she had the metal to spare.
She almost missed the knock on the smithy door. With the roar of the fire and the hiss of air pumping out of the bellows, it was loud. Daja waved the young woman in. She was small and blond, wearing the clothing of the people living in the cities, the blue pants and a shirt that was tight across her breasts. Daja was dressed simply, in the clothing she'd been wearing when she came through the portal to this land, leggings and a tunic. Sandry's magic had held and her clothes were still in good repair.
"Daja right?" The woman asked and she set down a something large and heavy wrapped in cloth. Daja could hear the metal in it from across the room, iron and silver all mixed together and singing in harmony.
"Yes?" Daja answered her. "Do business?" She wished the people here spoke her language and used her money. She never knew if she was getting ripped off, but her coppers had been useless in their markets and people paid in her pieces of paper with writing on them.
"Can you repair this?" The woman unwrapped the cloth. There was a fine sword there, no scabbard and the edges were rusty. The blade was broken into several pieces and Daja reached out to touch them. The metal was old, but not rancid, with the right workings and pounding in the proper places, she could make it whole again.
"Yes." Daja lifted the sword and ran her hands along it. After her repairs the blade would be shorter, but the woman was small. "Name?"
"Jo."
Jo looked like a warrior, Daja could believe that this was her sword. Her arms were corded with muscle and her pants were tight enough that Daja could see the strength in her legs. She wasn't as strong looking as the people of Daja's world, but no one here was. Their lives were easy and they had all grown soft.
"Come." Daja beckoned Jo close and put the hilt of the blade in her hand. "Hold." She lifted Jo's arm and ran her fingers up, past the elbow and kneaded her bicep. "Strong." Daja took the hilt of the blade back, Jo would be able to wield this weapon. It was a fighting sword, not a decorative one. She'd made enough of those over the last year.
"How long will it take? I'm only in town for a few days." Jo kept talking after that, but Daja didn't understand her words. She rubbed the edges of the sword down and pumped the bellows a few more times before placing the parts of the sword into the fire.
"Not long." Daja told her and pulled the rods for her own bedframe from the fire. She used a cloth mitt to do it, people here didn't react well when she touched the hot metal with her bare hands.
"Good." Jo smiled.
Daja smiled back. Her heart ached for a moment. Rizu had been so long ago and there had been a woman in one of the cities once, but she hadn't known the words to say and they'd parted without so much as a kiss. Jo was friendly, she smiled and she let Daja touch her arms to see the muscles and size the sword.
"Food and drink?" Daja asked as she got her water bucket and found some of the oat cakes the farmers had given her to eat.
"Thank you." Jo smiled at her again and her fingers brushed against Daja's went she took one of the oat cakes.
"Yes." Daja chewed her own cake and sipped at the water. Jo's face was red from the heat in the room and her blond hair was beginning to fizz from the warmth. "Come." Daja checked the weapon pieces in the fire, they were fine.
Jo followed Daja out of the smithy and into the one room hut next door.
"Sit, please." Daja motioned to the bed, really just a pile of cloth on the floor, the only other piece of furniture in the room was roughly put together table in the centre of the room.
Daja sat next to Jo on her pile of blankets and watched her out of the corner of her eye.
"I was wondering. . ." Jo started and Daja turned to look at her, "would you be interested in. . ." Jo leaned closer and Daja shut her eyes.
"I thought so." Jo murmured and Daja felt Jo's soft lips brush over her chapped ones.
Pairing: Jo/Crossover (Daja Kibuso)
Type (friendship, romantic, other--please specify): romantic
Rating: PG
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): Fic
Word Count (if applicable): 1100
Fandom (if crossover): Circle of Magic [Emelan books]
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Daja trusted Tris enough to participate in an experiment. She didn't think her foster sister would get her stuck in another world when people didn't speak any of the languages she knew and where all of her money would be useless. Still, she's good with her hands and when a blond girl comes knocking, Daja can repair her sword, and maybe find a little companionship.
Warnings: Spoilers for The Will of the Empress.
Daja Kibuso gave her bellows another pump and checked the rods she had heating in the fire. The set up here wasn't ideal, but it was the best she'd been able to cobble together with her broken English and few coins. It was all Tris' fault that she was here, the portal had gotten stuck in some odd land with no Winding Circle temples, no blacksmiths and no one that understood any language she spoke.
There wasn't much work for smiths here. Daja had gone into a store looking to buy food once and found huge containers of nails, hinges and metal bars. The shopkeeper hadn't been able to explain where they came from, or he hadn't understood her question, but they didn't need apprentices to make nails here. She still had the living metal covering her hand, but it grew slowly and they had other things here, odd metals and something called plastic which replaced metal in everyday life.
Still, Daja had found a little work as a smith. There were still people who hired her to makes nails, boxes, and occasionally pieces of artwork. She'd made a metal suit of armour for a man who was so fat she couldn't imagine he was a warrior of any kind. People came to her small house and asked her to make things, she made them draw pictures, even after two years she understood very little of their language.
Today, Daja was making things for herself. A family of farmers had agreed to let her live on their land in exchange for her help on their farm and the use of her services as a blacksmith. They didn't have the odd driving machines or the lights that flicked on and off with a switch. Together, they'd built a small house, just one room, for her to live in, next to her smithy. There was time today and Daja was working on a frame for her bed. There wasn't any word in the area and she had the metal to spare.
She almost missed the knock on the smithy door. With the roar of the fire and the hiss of air pumping out of the bellows, it was loud. Daja waved the young woman in. She was small and blond, wearing the clothing of the people living in the cities, the blue pants and a shirt that was tight across her breasts. Daja was dressed simply, in the clothing she'd been wearing when she came through the portal to this land, leggings and a tunic. Sandry's magic had held and her clothes were still in good repair.
"Daja right?" The woman asked and she set down a something large and heavy wrapped in cloth. Daja could hear the metal in it from across the room, iron and silver all mixed together and singing in harmony.
"Yes?" Daja answered her. "Do business?" She wished the people here spoke her language and used her money. She never knew if she was getting ripped off, but her coppers had been useless in their markets and people paid in her pieces of paper with writing on them.
"Can you repair this?" The woman unwrapped the cloth. There was a fine sword there, no scabbard and the edges were rusty. The blade was broken into several pieces and Daja reached out to touch them. The metal was old, but not rancid, with the right workings and pounding in the proper places, she could make it whole again.
"Yes." Daja lifted the sword and ran her hands along it. After her repairs the blade would be shorter, but the woman was small. "Name?"
"Jo."
Jo looked like a warrior, Daja could believe that this was her sword. Her arms were corded with muscle and her pants were tight enough that Daja could see the strength in her legs. She wasn't as strong looking as the people of Daja's world, but no one here was. Their lives were easy and they had all grown soft.
"Come." Daja beckoned Jo close and put the hilt of the blade in her hand. "Hold." She lifted Jo's arm and ran her fingers up, past the elbow and kneaded her bicep. "Strong." Daja took the hilt of the blade back, Jo would be able to wield this weapon. It was a fighting sword, not a decorative one. She'd made enough of those over the last year.
"How long will it take? I'm only in town for a few days." Jo kept talking after that, but Daja didn't understand her words. She rubbed the edges of the sword down and pumped the bellows a few more times before placing the parts of the sword into the fire.
"Not long." Daja told her and pulled the rods for her own bedframe from the fire. She used a cloth mitt to do it, people here didn't react well when she touched the hot metal with her bare hands.
"Good." Jo smiled.
Daja smiled back. Her heart ached for a moment. Rizu had been so long ago and there had been a woman in one of the cities once, but she hadn't known the words to say and they'd parted without so much as a kiss. Jo was friendly, she smiled and she let Daja touch her arms to see the muscles and size the sword.
"Food and drink?" Daja asked as she got her water bucket and found some of the oat cakes the farmers had given her to eat.
"Thank you." Jo smiled at her again and her fingers brushed against Daja's went she took one of the oat cakes.
"Yes." Daja chewed her own cake and sipped at the water. Jo's face was red from the heat in the room and her blond hair was beginning to fizz from the warmth. "Come." Daja checked the weapon pieces in the fire, they were fine.
Jo followed Daja out of the smithy and into the one room hut next door.
"Sit, please." Daja motioned to the bed, really just a pile of cloth on the floor, the only other piece of furniture in the room was roughly put together table in the centre of the room.
Daja sat next to Jo on her pile of blankets and watched her out of the corner of her eye.
"I was wondering. . ." Jo started and Daja turned to look at her, "would you be interested in. . ." Jo leaned closer and Daja shut her eyes.
"I thought so." Jo murmured and Daja felt Jo's soft lips brush over her chapped ones.