An Affordance Chapter 11 (FINAL)

There were mornings in the days that followed where Rokas would walk through town almost in a daze. Even a visitor to Hearth would find it obvious that something terrible had transpired in the town, but a recovery was taking place. It would be months before all the homes and places of work would be made whole, but there was other damage that would never be mended.

Those who had given their lives in the defense of the town had only been buried the previous day. It was a long and painful ceremony. The militia of Hearth had been decimated by the fighting. That there was a future at all for this place had depended upon that sacrifice, but Rokas could not help but wonder if there were not a way it all could have been avoided. The future of Hearth and the southern expansion of the Compact as a whole had been paid for in blood. It was something the smith would think about often.

He had not been there when the town was retaken, having only returned after the last of the fighting concluded. Support from the Wayfort to the north arrived to the expectation of no one. Some miles north of town, riders were noticed by hunters sent to scout ahead of the common folk of town. Word was that they had seen the smoke rising from Rest and went south to investigate, but Rokas had not yet interacted with any of their number to confirm what he had been told. He wondered if some word had not gotten out of what was transpiring through some means unknown to him, but Dalma remained glib on the matter even when pressed.

The riders from the Wayfort were few in number, but their arrival allowed for the recapture of the town. There had been great indecision on the part of the invaders after the death of their leader and the discovery of the flight of the townspeople from the Temple. Lacking direction, they neither set the remainder of the town alight, nor left in pursuit of its people. The soldiers began to withdraw upon seeing Compact banners upon the road, the only fighting involving a contingent that had been left behind to cover the retreat of the greater body.

The wounded were many and the hands of such healers as were available to the town seldom found rest. Rokas also found that his craft was in high demand. There was much rebuilding to be done if the town were to make ready for winter after all the damage it had incurred. Tools of all description were in need and he was their only immediate source until The Couriers felt secure in resuming their services to town.

The workshop and its adjacent cabin had escaped the notice of the soldiers who invaded Hearth. Being that they were minor structures and removed from the heart of town they were among the few buildings to neither know no occupation by the enemy nor suffer any damage from the conflict. Being there one could almost forget about the attack and all the damage it had caused.

Rokas had found his sleep was fitful in the days since the conclusion of the battle for Hearth. His rest troubled by nightmares of burning soldiers and of the Paladin also alight, resuming their march upon the town. That the ghostly figures burnt did little to deter their continued aggression. When she first noticed him stirring in the night Oona had told him such nightmares were common. Stress from a situation like the one which had found them could be expressed in all sorts of ways.

Though it came under unfortunate circumstances, Rokas gained many customers in few days. As he walked through town prior to the invasion it was not as though he was treated like a total outsider despite being just that. Things were different now. After the battle he was treated like he belonged. When he was living in Comfort he had many more neighbors than he did now, but knew far fewer of them. It was a struggle sometimes to remember all of the names, but it would come with time. The conflict had brought the community together.

The Pact-Bearer, Oona had yet to make many public appearances. She spent her days resting and recovering. That did not stop the townsfolk from visiting to thank her for what she had done. Her actions in the battle had elevated her to becoming a local celebrity, much to her chagrin. Rokas could tell that she would rather have retained a lower profile, but she accepted the attention with patience. Her ire was lessened by the gifts of food which usually accompanied the visits. Neither of the pair needed to cook for many days and their meals were comprised of all the variety that the region's farms and forests could provide. Rokas could not remember a time when he had eaten so well.

After a week of laboring at the forge Rokas allowed himself a day off. For the most part he had refused payment for his labor, accepting it only from those who insisted. The Council of Hearth was seeing to it that he was furnished with the materials he needed to do his work.

"Will you be gone long?" Oona asked him as he readied himself to leave their cabin. She was still recumbent upon the bed, clad in bandages and a linen shift which had been gifted to her. It was too warm for her to make use of the blanket, that she was dressed at all was a mild surprise to the smith. Whoever had made the shift had done a decent job in sizing it to fit her but for two points. First, it was much shorter than was the custom in such garb, riding up and bunching about her powerful thighs. The other problem was that there was no accommodation for her tail whatsoever, a situation that only worsened the prior issue.

"I am not certain." Rokas said, buttoning his vest. "I had hoped to take it easy today, perhaps continue your writing lessons, but who am I to deny a summons from the Council?" He was dressed in his finer clothes for the occasion, he rarely had cause to wear them otherwise.

"You could have just asked Fionn, I'm certain he'd just have told you what was up."

"And ruin the surprise?" He shrugged adjusting his clothes. "Need anything before I leave?"

"Only a kiss."

The two of them had spent much time together since the battle, but physical affection had fallen to the wayside with her injured state. They had kissed and hugged, but Rokas slept in Oona's sleeping bag. He didn't like the idea of hurting her unintentionally if he tossed in his sleep. She got along better each day, but there was still a limp in one of her legs and bandages at her thigh, chest, hand, and head. Dalma or one of her attendants came by regularly to change the dressings.

He stepped over to the bed and walked along its side to reach her only to find himself pulled from his feet and down upon Oona's lap by gentle but insistent hands. He laid back there, looking up at her bemused for a time before she cradled his head into a deep kiss. He held his hands out from her, unsure where he could rest them that would not hurt his lover. He had helped her bathe since the battle and saw the myriad of cuts and scrapes upon her that were not bad enough to merit bandages. She was a mess, even now.

The Pact-Bearer directed one of his hovering hands to lay upon her bosom and through the thin material of the shift found that his hand had been laid right at her quickly-hardening nipple. Apparently this part of her had avoided damage for the most part, though she had been stabbed only a few inches lower. When the kiss ended he noted a hunger in her eyes which he had not observed for days. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hastened. He marked this as a positive improvement in her health as his own need began to strain against his pants.

But he was expected at the Council House in less than a half hour.

She seemed to note that he had yet to make an advance of his own, though his hand remained upon her chest. "But you must be going, eh?"

"I wish I could say how long, I would rather not leave you waiting."

"You could leave them waiting, boss." She said, grinning down at him.

"You jest- and it is tempting, but I fear they might come here looking for me."

"And what a scandal that would be. A man bedding his woman."

His woman. Is that how she saw them? Not that he was opposed to this view, but after the turmoil of the past days part of him was worried that their previous engagements might be somehow nullified. Rokas was still anxious when he thought of their future, if there was to be one.

"Am I your man or your boss?" He asked, absently squeezing at her offered body. The material of her shift did little to dull the sensation of her flesh under his palm. Her warmth.

"You can be both."

"Usually fucking one's assistant is frowned upon, Oona."

"I enjoy the idea." She said and Rokas could only sigh. There really was no helping that it seems. "Does it actually upset you?"

"No. My sense of propriety maybe."

"Boss, I am sorry to tell you, but that was lacking from the onset." She grinned and then said in a husky voice frightfully close to his ear, "Jerking off with me in the room. Fucking me within a month of our working together. You wanted this at least as much as I. If you were ever serious about your protestation then we'd never have continued sharing this cabin."

She wasn't wrong, but did she have to come out and say it? He had to concede this point- it would be silly to fight her on it while laying upon her lap like this. It wasn't so odd to work together with a spouse, but a little stranger to do it while still courting. There was still the matter of the pending Audit of their respective contracts. While Rokas could not recall any specific clause which prohibited fraternization, it was not considered a moral practice. That matter may yet come to be something to which they both of them would be accountable. He imagined them feigning a more strictly professional relationship for the duration of the bureaucrat's visit.

"If I knew you were feeling up to this sort of thing I would have gotten up earlier this morning." He said, removing his hand from her with some reluctance. The both of them wanted more, he considered how he might progress from this recumbent position. To kneed at her form and reacquaint himself with the contours thereof. On the other hand, delays weren't always the worst thing in romance. There was much to be said for how taking one's time can make feelings that much more keen. He might have trouble focusing on the meeting with this interaction on his mind.

"I didn't know I was either. Not until just now watching you dress." She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding the way she was protruding after his touch.

"A sign of recovery. I am impressed you want to risk it still, bandaged as you are."

"You would have to be gentle." She averted her eyes, taking on a demure tone. Rokas knew better, but it was still cute. The smith stood.

"I really should get going." But he did pause and look upon her for a time longer than he had to. Eyes tracing the muscles of her thighs as she shifted her position upon the bed. She took note of his focus and struck a teasing pose, chest out, hands behind her head. It was a very impressive display, but for the pained grunt and slight hesitation on her part as she arced her back. "Don't pop those stitches, dear." He said, turning from her at last and walking to the door.

"Don't be too long." She grumbled.

Rokas found his mind was having a hard time focusing on anything other than his exchange with Oona while he found his way to town. It was still morning, but he had not awoken early. The streets were busy with activity and it helped him find something else to think about.

Throughout town tents had been erected to accommodate the families whose homes were too damaged to return to immediately. Elsewhere temporary thatching or oiled canvas patched holes in roofing where the damage had been less complete. In many places windows had been boarded up. The sound of hammering and sawing was prevalent throughout town. It was a sound which Rokas's recent labors had contributed greatly to, it occurred to the smith.

Most often it filled him with a sense of pride to see the things which he made put to good use. The only exception that came to mind was the recent applications of Oona's sword. Not that he was opposed to one of his weapons being used for a good cause, it was just that he would rather not have to bear witness to it. It felt a little hypocritical that he was willing to make a sword, yet balked at even observing its use. Rokas accepted that, at the rate he was going, he might have to bear a little hypocrisy here and there in his life. Preferably where there was nobody around to rub his nose in it.

Three times he was stopped by townsfolk, some just to greet him and inquire at Oona's wellbeing, but some wanted to thank him for some tool which he had provided for the rebuilding efforts. He had to dodge an overly enthusiastic saw held by one man who had not reckoned for the length of the blade as he gestured at it and praised its quality.

Before the attack on town Rokas had never had any reason to enter the Council House. It was seldom used outside of the times that Censuses were held, votes taken from the Council, or there were events in town that required community organization. The tax collectors would also operate from an office therein once yearly, but the Council preferred to not draw attention to this fact, lest the structure be subject to arson.

The building was only a little smaller than the Temple, making it one of the larger in Hearth. A stone monument at its front held a brass plaque identifying the hall and marking the date of its construction. The monument also recorded the name of the founding Council Members of Hearth, but Rokas noted its construction was recent enough that a few of those named still held seats. The front of the building featured a pair of large doors inlaid with glass. Half of the wooden roof had been burnt in the attack, but its stone facade was whole.

The door was ajar when the smith arrived and he let himself in. The building contained a main hall in which town meetings were conducted and a handful of small offices that branched off from a hallway to one side of the hall. Inside the main hall there was still evidence of fire damage upon the wooden floor and rafters that supported the remaining roof. Sunlight streamed through a hastily covered portion of roof in narrow flitting beams. Upon the floor there was still some ash, but it was evident that time had been spent cleaning ahead of the now-ongoing meeting.

When Rokas entered the building he noted some of the council turned to regard him, but whoever was speaking did not break from their prepared remarks. Fionn was seated there and caught the smith's attention. He motioned to a nearby chair that was empty. On one side of the hall was a loose semi-circle of chairs and on the other a small podium had been placed. From that podium a Forester named Aleksas was going over a list of repairs that were still needed in town. He provided an estimation of time it would take to make the repair and a price tag for the work. If Rokas only heard a part of this list there was still a lot to be done. Graciously, the Council had deemed that their own hall was to be a low priority in the work.

The assembled council was more complete than the one that had met upon the hill of the Watchpost, but it was still missing some of its members. Notable in his absence was the shopkeeper, Caelan, but there was also an empty seat for a miner by the name of Ferenc who had fallen in the defense of Hearth. Rokas had met the man prior to the attack, but now regretted he had not put the name to his face before his death.

When Aleksas had completed his reading he returned to his place among the council. Fionn turned, and with some formality introduced Rokas to the council, "Let it be recorded that joining our meeting today is the smith, Rokas, formerly of Comfort. The Council wishes to discuss with him the work he has been undertaking for the repair effort and to arrive upon a suitable compensation."

Rokas cleared his throat. "Really, there is no need. The Council has seen to it that I have been provided with all the materials for the work and with that and the payments I have received from townsfolk I am receiving enough compensation." This was true. Removing the need to procure raw materials from his overhead made every time it was insisted he take payment from a citizen highly profitable. Not so much that he would consider expanding his shop or any extravagant purchases, but if work persisted in this fashion for a couple more months he would not need be concerned about the coming winter.

"We have already discussed matters among ourselves," He was being addressed by Botond, the barman in town, "You and your wom-" he caught himself and cleared his throat, "assistant have done much for this town in the short time you have been here and we want to make it known that such service is not forgotten here."

Now Fionn spoke, "The Council has agreed that when repairs in town have been completed we will make provisions for construction of a new residence for our talented blacksmith and his assistant." He was grinning at Rokas who was for a time at a loss for words.

"There is also the matter of some necessary appointments." Finn, the Innkeeper said from his seat next to his business partner Botond. "You might have noticed there are seats vacant on the Council."

Fionn elaborated for the Innkeeper, "Caelan has agreed to vacate his seat in light of the pending investigation into Mayor Gyula's possible involvement in the attack on our town. The two of them were business partners and though Caelan admits to no wrongdoing, he agrees it is best to cede the postilion."

Aleksas chimed in, "He doesn't want to end up under house arrest like our former Mayor I would venture." He laughed.

"Until another election is held at the Winter Solstice, The Council will absorb the powers of the Office of the Mayor and can appoint Interim Council Members. We would like you to take one of the open seats, Rokas." Fionn said.

"I don't know what to say, I really am quite busy with the workshop. This is the first day I have not been at the billows, as it were." Was all that occurred to Rokas to say.

"Don't worry, friend, we hardly ever meet more than once or twice a week and usually Ruta brings us pastries when we do." Botond gestured to a pleasantly round woman opposite the smith that Rokas had not yet learned the name of. If he had to guess her vocation at a glance he might have landed on Baker, or perhaps Chef.

Rokas remained noncommittal, "I don't know if Oona has the temperament for government, were you intending to offer her a seat as well?"

Fionn shook his head, "No, when I spoke with Dalma she very strongly recommended against it. That said, we were going to offer her a different post. Her leadership during the attack was one of the reasons there is still a town here today. We were considering appointing her as a permanent Militia Commander. It would be a mostly honorary role, but it would come with a small-"

"Quite small." Botond interjected.

"-salary and she could advise The Council in matters of defense and the keeping of public order."

"I would have to talk to her about it. I am not certain what she would want." Rokas said.

"Certainly, and you don't need to decide on your own part right away either. Just let us know by next week so we can consider other candidates."

"That I can do." The smith nodded. "And thank you."

"In the coming months a lot will be happening in town that has never happened before. We are keeping it quiet lest we cause a panic, but yesterday The Council received word that a Compact army has departed from Comfort and is in route to Hearth now. No fewer than a thousand soldiers in all, and at least five hundred more support staff. It will be at least a month before they get here." The Alchemist Fionn told Rokas in a quiet voice. As the smith looked about at the other members of the Town Council, he saw that many of their faces had grown grim.