[i]-tink tink tink-[/i]

Stonework. Apply the chisel at the correct angle. Tap gently, but insistently, until the surface is relatively level. Apply sandpaper to smooth. Repeat. Precise work, but simple work.

Work that he could do right. 

[i]-tink tink tink-[/i]

Do you know the story of the little lamb who tried to fly? When no one was looking, he slipped away from his chores, and snuck to the master bedroom, where he was never ever supposed to go. From the great balcony, he could see the skies stretching out to the horizon, and they wove a spell over the naughty fellow. Come, join us! Swim in our depths! Be as the clouds! He was so taken that he leapt off the railing at once.

He fell like a stone. Had the gardens not been in full bloom, the story might’ve ended there. As the house nurse carried the crying lamb to the infirmary, he sobbed out apology after apology. He would do better next time. He would train hard. He would study the winds. Next time, he would get it right. The nurse shushed him gently, drying his eyes and soothing his hurts. For it was not the silly little lamb’s fault that he would never fly.

[i]-tink tink [b]chrnk[/b]-[/i]

He froze. She winced. “My apologies,” he murmured. “The angle was-”

She didn’t even look at him. Cut him off, told him that she shouldn’t have overreacted. That it wasn’t his fault.

Then, it was finished. Holes patched solid with bronze. Solid, strong, ready to soar to the field again. Perhaps if saving a Princess required slipshod stonework or an artful cheesecake, he would be ready too.

The steady tromp of boots heralded the arrival of Vasilia, with Galnius and their comrades marching close behind. Dolce shot to attention, giving a slight bow to his Captain, sparing him a few moments of those hideous, ghostly claws rending her spirit. “I’ve finished repairing Alexa, we’re ready to-”

Which was as far as he got before a clawed hand cupped his chin, and she planted a loud, lingering kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, my dear.~” You know, perhaps she meant to whisper that, but if she did, she forgot to say it quietly. “Careful on our advance now, there’s bound to be guards in the dungeon. Alexa, Galnius, the front is yours.”

He was walking beside her, which was good, because it meant that he wasn’t frozen in place while he tried to put his heart back together. Was that...good? Was he good now? That felt a little good. And not normal. That wasn’t usually how that went. So was that bad? How could it be? But why now? Why here? Did [i]everyone[/i] have to see that? Why did she spare a quick glance to Galnius? Was it okay for them to see that? What did it [i]mean?![/i]

A confused and agitated bleat fought in vain to escape his throat, but he studiously kept his mouth clamped shut and his eyes ahead. They were on the march, and there was nowhere else to go but forward.