(( Ref Pics ))

By now, Z’rik had gotten used to being summoned to Ened’s workshop at a moment’s notice. He’d met her two or three turns ago when she offered to make a better prosthetic for him, claiming she could build him one that was more lightweight and functional. While Z’rik was more than happy with slim, curved model she came up with, Ened apparently wasn’t satisfied, and had repeatedly called him back since then to make improvements. This latest note had been particularly insistent. Her new design, she said, was something else.

Z’rik sat on a stool in her workshop while she threaded light chords through a crisscross of leather straps on his back. Whatever it was it was certainly more complicated than usual..

“So… I didn’t impress again.” Ened said to fill the silence. Z’rik gave some grunt of acknowledgement, but nothing else. “Regretting your decision yet?”
“I never said we couldn’t see each other. I said-“
“You said you’d dump me as soon as I became a weyrling.”
“I said I didn’t think it would be appropriate.”
“You bronzes and your propriety.” she sighed, dramatically. Then, “Bend your elbow now,” she ordered in the same breath.

She pulled a leather chord taut and threaded it through a small metal washer on his back. “So you seeing someone else?”
Z’rik snorted. “As if.”
“I’m just asking because I’m pretty sure the only person who’s seen you shirtless more than I have is your mother.”
“I don’t have a mother.” he retorted, almost smugly.
“Yeah, keep whining about it.” Ened shot right back again.

He shot a frown at her but she just smiled back until he gave up and laughed.

She took cues on how to treat him from her dads. The first sevenday after her father’s accident, her other dad had tied a rope to his wheelchair and attached the other end to their bed post so he was nearly thrown out of it when it suddenly jerked to a halt, then laughed for nearly a candlemark. Their way to cope was by acting like things were normal and that, for them, meant being mean. They gave each other sympathy when it was really needed, and didn't pull punches the rest of the time. Ened used the same approach with Z’rik. Though, by nature, she was more inclined to mother-hen someone, she stuck to it because it seemed to work.

She finished fastening the last buckle, then checked the fit, running her finger under the leather straps.
“Alright. Now turn around,” she said, folding her arm as she inspected her work. Z'rik stood and faced her. He couldn’t help but admit he was curious now too, especially as a grin spread across her face.

“Okay, straighten your arm out,” she ordered and Z’rik obeyed. The design looked fairly similar to the last one she made, with two bent metal pieces forming a hooked loop at the end. She held a wooden dowel out between the two curved hooks. “Now do this.” she said, demonstrating pulling her arm back so the elbow was bent, but the hand remained in roughly the same position. When he did, the taut thin cords pulled on one of the metal pieces, causing it to hinge closed.

“Yes! Yes, it worked!” Ened gasped, letting go of the wooden rod to clap her hands together, and leaving Z'rik to stare at the thing his own hand was holding.
"Wow.." he muttered under his breath. Getting a sense of how the mechanism worked, he lifted his arm a little and watched the rod slip out of its grasp.


TBC...