An Affordance

It was not quite sunset when they arrived at the inn.

"Hungry Beast indeed." Oona said as she opened the door for Rokas.

"You aren't going to make a pauper of me are you?"

She only grinned mysteriously in response.

Rokas had worn the nice vest and accompanying outfit that up until this point he had stored in his luggage. Oona had her robe.

The food tonight took the form of a huge slab of roast beef. It came with the simple accompaniment of an herb and vegetable salad, bread with butter, and boiled potatoes. Also with butter. The innkeeper seemed to know Oona's preferences well enough to have served her a portion of beef that was almost three times the size of what Rokas received. He also got the both of them mugs of beer.

Oona said a small prayer over their food before looking up at him almost shyly. For his part he had bowed his head respectfully. They clinked mugs and began to eat. They had sat at a table on benches opposite to one another.

The inn was not particularly busy that night, but it always attracted some ardent drinkers or those who did not want to put in the effort to cook that night. After the work of the day the food and beer suited the pair equally well. Oona went as far as to order a second mug but Rokas shot her a meaningful glance.

"You aren't going to get drunk on my dime," He told her. "A buzz should suffice."

"Fair enough, I've got money." Was her reply.

He could only chuckle and pick at the last of his potatoes with a wooden spoon. He had been really hungry it turned out. Oona was still working on her roast, but there was little left of heap she had been provided. If the beers had any effect on the woman there was no clear indication.

"I am surprised you were able to dry your shirt so quickly after all that work today." The smith said innocently.

"Oh, I am not wearing any of that right now." She said. She peered at him over her mug as she took a long sip.

Rokas was prepared to accept that he walked into that one.

Rather than talk about work they both had agreed to talk about anything else. Rokas quickly failed to think of much to discuss, but Oona made up for that lack with stories of her travels. Particularly the long journey she had taken from Prosperity to Hearth. She had walked most of the way, and claimed to have once had to wrestle a bear for dinner with only a small knife to defend herself. He was not certain of the extent to which she was embellishing the account, but if she recounted the route she took truly she might have been the first person to walk it.

The boundless wilds of the partition were always the subject of speculation. Exploration had many risks, and few dedicated efforts had been made to find the full extent of the continents. Humankind had been on the back-foot since its arrival to The Partition and it was deemed sufficient to just survive. It was only in the past couple centuries that populations had grown large enough that new settlements were being founded more frequently.

"You ever think of becoming an explorer or something? Not a lot of people can just wander around in the wild like you describe." Rokas asked her.

"Not really. I might want to walk into the woods some days, but I will return to civilization pretty quickly. Where else would I get beer?"

He nodded. It was hard to fault this logic.

Despite certain tensions that might exist between the two of them, Rokas had so far enjoyed Oona's company. This fact was fortunate if they were to continue occupying the same cabin for at least a few weeks. Someone as capable as she very clearly was could have ended up having issues taking direction from someone like him, but so far she was very humble about everything. The smith wanted to make sure their interactions remain positive as the prospect of having something akin to a demigod angry at himspecificallydid not appeal to him at all.

It still seemed odd to him that she had ended up in this situation. He found himself wondering if there was more to her story than she led on. He must have been staring, because she interrupted his consideration.

"You okay, smith? You are kinda just staring off there." She said, waving a hand in front of his face.

He snapped out of his thoughts. "I am sorry. I was thinking about what our next steps would be for the shop." She only rolled her eyes to this his explanation. "Hey, I didn't want to bring it up since we had agreed to not talk about work."

"So staring vacantly was the option you went with?"

"Sometimes there is no good option."

It was at that moment that a thought which had been slowly working its way through the less frequently regarded elements of Rokas's mind at last came to his waking attention. That wood he ordered the prior day never had arrived at the cabin.

Rokas arrived early the next morning at the Courier Guild with every intention of finding out why the wood he had ordered had not yet made the small journey to his cabin. What he was not expecting was finding another person with a similar concern had beat him there and was in the process of getting the run-around by a decidedly unconcerned guild representative.

The somewhat irate man wore a green jacket that ended above his knees and a light shirt and trousers belted at his waist. All of his garb was a notch above most of what Rokas had seen worn in Hearth so far, his coat embroidered with golden thread and his belt featured delicate engravings upon its buckle. Upon his head was a green cap which matched his jacket, from under which spilled a cascade of blond hair which curved out and up slightly as it ended at his shoulders. His face was young and his features delicate, though anger now furrowed his brow. Despite his apparent upset, there was little he could do to seem intimidating- his build was slight and he had the baring of someone who bothered little with physical labor. Were it not for the singes on his gloves and coat, Rokas would have thought him a scribe or scholar.

"This shipment is very important and your own contract specified when I could expect to take delivery of it. The extracts therein are very delicate and if they are ruined I will expect to be compensated." The man in the jacket made an appeal which fell on very nearly deaf ears.

"If you like, you can lodge a formal complaint." The guild member said in the tone of someone who knows exactly where formal complaints end up.

"That is unacceptable. You lot claim control over shipping, but The Cities impose standards. I will go to the Mayor if I must."

"I don't know if you happened to take a look on your way in, but we've not a horse or carriage in this place at the moment. There is nothing I can do to get your shipment here, it will arrive when it can and at the best speed we can muster." The guild member seemed to be trying to be reasonable.

"You may think you can put me off like this, but this isn't the last you will hear from me." The man in the jacket said, turning to leave and almost running into Rokas in the process.

The smith was able to quickly back away and to the side of the heedless man. There was an awkward pause as their eyes met and the man in the jacket hurried out of the office.

Rokas slowly walked up to the desk. He was watched the entire time by the guild member.

"I suppose you can just imagine we have a very similar conversation to the one you just had." Rokas said to the man at the desk.

"I have never seen you around before, you the new smith?"

Rokas made a short introduction to the man at the desk. Then he returned to business.

"So if I were to order some stone, could I expect to get it in the next couple of days?" The smith asked.

"We are simply stretched too thin, as you may have also noticed I wouldn't have a cart to do it with."

Rokas wondered if he could just have Oona carry the orders he needed for him a bit at a time over the next couple of weeks. It might be faster than waiting on the local end of the great shipping bureaucracy. Even in Comfort there had been times like this where shipping simply broke down. Some of the time it was just the Couriers making a point, but often as not it was a legitimate pressure which could not be accounted for. Boarder conflicts pulling resources away, heavy snow in the passes, one incautious member of another guild badmouthing a notable Courier, all of these could cause shipping disruptions. Rokas really didn't know enough about the local situation to even begin to guess what the case was this time.

While a horse-drawn wagon was the specific purview of the Courier Guild, practical considerations won out as to as how far they could exercise their monopoly. What a man could carry on his own back, or on a single horse or other pack animal was considered to not require guild oversight. Along this same vein, a wheelbarrow or pushcart were also considered unregulated. There had been many instances of people trying to skirt lines around these distinctions and usually they were met with persuasive arguments, often made at knife-point.

It wasn't an entirely dysfunctional arrangement. The Couriers would not have been tolerated as a proper guild were they not seen to contribute to the stability of the cities they operated within and around. In the last big conflict between the East and West a major advantage in the East had been a greater capacity for the movement of men and materials for the war effort. This was due in no small part to the road systems, trade networks, and Wayforts which the Courier Guild had contributed greatly to.

Knowing all that didn't really make Rokas feel much better about the current situation. He knew that a lot of the pressure he was feeling was self-inflicted where getting the workshop going was concerned. It just wasn't in his nature to rest until he knew for certain he could afford to. It wasn't just his livelihood now either, Oona depended on his success as well.

Rather than making a long argument of it, Rokas only put up a token effort in expressing his displeasure at the current situation. He felt the gesture was required of him as a part of expected etiquette. He was already making other plans.

"I got us a cart."

"Yes, I can see that." Oona said, seemingly unimpressed.

"It solves all of our problems." Rokas explained.

"If only." The woman said.

"A step in the right direction, at least." The smith tempered his enthusiasm.

"You're going to be the one pushing it right?"

"We can take turns, I'll get it to the foresters and then you can bring it back."

Oona only chuckled in response. She walked around the pushcart as though sizing up an adversary. The cart was designed to be pulled by a human rather than a beast of burden, it had a single axle and a bar to be grasped in place of a yoke. When not being pulled it rested at a slight angle owing to a pair of legs that prevented it from listing even further. At the moment it was in front of the rubbish pile that once had been the ruins of the workshop.

It was cloudy that day, and in spring it would only be a matter of time before those clouds would bring rain. In the past couple of days Rokas had noticed more and more greenery in the undergrowth and among the trees of the woods around Hearth. After a long winter the land was waking up. By most reckoning spring was considered to have begun two weeks ago, but the trees did not seem to be paying that any heed up to this point. It was as though a long delayed notice had been acknowledged at last.

While the forest that once grew where Hearth had been settled was cleared to such an extent that there were relatively few trees inside the town proper, the short trip to the cabin was like passing through an arboreal tunnel. This was the case for most paths to and from town. The clouds only intensified the feeling of being enclosed, adding their own weight to the presence overhead.

Contrary to her comments earlier, Oona did not complain about the duty of pushing the laden cart. It was on her urging that it was loaded so heavily, rather than accepting the greater risk of rain that multiple trips would entail. The rain was not accommodating to her plan. The first heavy drops had begun to fall just minutes into their return trip and she allowed herself a few choice curses to mark the occasion.

Rokas had intended to let her rest when they arrived back at the cabin and unload the cart himself, but as the rain became more intense he felt he could not let his assistant toil alone with the cart. He walked up beside the forks inside which Oona was situated and dipped under them to slip in beside her. She made an effort to accommodate his joining her there by sliding off to one side, but there was only so much she could do. The cart had been intended to be pushed by a single person, but the space was such that two could work side by side if they didn't mind tight quarters. She was considerably larger than the average person, and her generous hips made the space that much tighter.

The smith feared for a moment that he would be more of a hindrance than of help, but in a few strides Oona had made enough room for him to fit inside with her. They did not step upon each other frequently, but care had to be given where one tread. There was no avoiding pressing against her side though, but she gave him no indication that she minded the contact or even noticed it at all. Rokas's strength was no match for her's, but what he contributed did seem to help the load navigate the progressively more muddy trail back to the cabin.

They were fortunate to both be hooded, but neither Oona's robe nor the smith's coat were fully proof vs water. He felt more damp with every passing moment, but the wool of his coat kept out any chill despite this. It was not quite a torrent of rain, but after the trip was completed there would be little likelihood of getting anything done outside. The town was quiet and seemingly empty, its populace having long since fled inside to avoid the rain. Windows lit from inside cast pools of warm light on the wet mud streets.

Before they reached the far side of town on the return trip to the cabin both of them were breathing heavily. The load of wood would be judged by most to be excessive, yet the pair agreed that doing this once in the rain was preferable to twice but with less weight.

"Look at you go, I think I could take a break and just let you take it the rest off the way in." Oona elbowed him playfully and then reached to grab his arm and shoulder, squeezing his muscle in appraisal.

The smith could only grunt. He was having to heave against the bar of the cart to feel as though his labors were having any appreciable impact in light of what Oona was capable of. When her hand had ceased its exploration and returned to the bar it landed over his own for a moment. He felt silly for an instant as he fought with the urge to pull his hand to the side away from her touch. Instead he let her find her grip beside his again and the moment passed. The impulse felt very childish to him, since when did he recoil from a woman's touch?

The feel of her hand lingered on in his mind through the cool rain. The press of her body against his side had not stopped and he could feel her warmth bleeding through their wet clothes. He felt stirred by this closeness in a way he had not been before. His mind had considered the contours of her figure in detail, that much was true, but now he was being confronted with the touch of it in ways he had not before. His own exertion was not as much of a distraction as he might of hoped. Now that his mind and body had shifted focus everything about her was of too much interest to him.

Her breathing was as a soft pant near his ear as they were oriented. His imagination wondered if this would be how she would sound were they to bed, and how he could urge from her lips louder gasps with the right efforts.

He was happy that the coat he had donned was spacious and hung nearly to his knees.

By the time they arrived at the cabin they were both drenched by the rain. Before entering both took pains to not tread mud inside. Rokas shed his boots, and Oona took time with a rag to wipe her bare feet clean, or at least near enough to clean. Rokas noted the efficiency with which his assistant rekindled the embers from the prior night's fire in the stove to life and found himself ushered in front of it to dry. She sat close beside him, the narrow aperture of the stove's grill open and radiating warmth only so widely.

He was not surprised when she slipped her robe over her head and once he noticed the motion had begun he averted his eyes, staring into the fire before him. A reasonable part of him noted that this was a practical thing to do in this situation. It was only his own arousal that made it uncomfortable to witness. He had only seen the hem of the robe rise above her knees before he was able to react, but again he was happy at his own coat, wet though it remained.

What did surprise him was her hands taking hold of his coat and beginning to take it from his body.

"Come on lad, lets get this off of you. You'll catch your death of cold if you leave all this on." She explained as she pulled.

Rokas went ahead and undid its fastenings. He wanted to protest, but knew she was right. Sitting in front of the fire, hunched, he still had some modesty preserved.

"Shirt too, it should dry quickly." She said.

He felt adrift as he shrugged it over his head. She had not suggested his pants, but he was not prepared to take that leap just yet and perhaps she sensed that might be too far. Instead she threw the blanket from the bed around both of their shoulders and settled in next to him. The blanket was much bigger than the bed required, but that suited this situation well. It encompassed both of them well leaving excess to be folded around.

Again he could feel her shoulder on his own, but now the damp fur was directly touching him. It wasn't as though she was leaning fully on him, or even seeming to seek out an excess of closeness. Or at least he didn't think that was the case.

He judged that she was a least a little flirtatious towards him in their interactions, but had no idea how far that could go. Could he justify all of her lack of modesty around him simply with just her background and the nature of their living situation? His imagination considered all the ways in which he could test her intentions in this position. An idle hand coming to rest on her thigh. He could embrace her, taking relish in the warmth of her body.

"Are you alright, smith? You've grown very quiet since we got inside." She asked him.

He turned and the closeness of her face was almost startling. Her amber eyes locked on his own. The light of the fire catching the red mane of her hair, still slicked back from the damp. The studs in each of her ears glinted bright, capturing the stove's light.

"Pushing that cart took more out of me than I expected." He cleared his throat and made a show of exhaling deeply after this.

Was he still out of breath? His heart was certainly racing. She didn't press him on that point.

"I didn't think it would be quite that difficult when we were loading it up," She said. "But I suppose I had not accounted for the mud."

Rokas sighed. "We might lose a couple days of work if this doesn't clear up."

"Not the worst situation to find oneself in. You've barely rested any after getting here."

"I am not sure what I'd do if I were cooped up in here for the better part of a week." He Said.

She leaned into him, smiling. "Despite your lack of enthusiasm, I happen to enjoy your company." She told him.

"I need to watch my mouth before I stick my foot in it." He said, rubbing his brow, which was still nowhere near dry. "So far you have been an excellent assistant. I appreciate you having been here."

"Does this mean I can have the rest of the week off?"