Work Text:
“You like the shiny?” Sandal extended a small coin-sized, flat object toward Dagna.
She took this strange item from him and turned it over in the palm of her hand. The Tevinter words for ‘fire’, ‘air’, and ‘pain’ had been intricately carved into the face of this token, the grooves of the runes set with the smallest amount of lyrium.
“I’ve heard of these!” Brightening, Dagna looked up into the face of the older dwarf. “This is an explosive rune. You throw it and it explodes, right? But there’s more. The words for ‘pain’ and ‘air’. This lets off some sort of gas, doesn’t it?” Very carefully and gingerly, she handed it back to him. “This is very well done. Better than anything I could do. I never had the patience for inscription.”
“Boom,” replied Sandal with an acknowledging nod.
“They tried to teach me – the Tranquil did – back when I first arrived at Kinloch Hold,” Dagna continued, her gaze moving over the many intricate tools that made up the whole of Sandal’s enchanting equipment. “I think it was just because I’m a dwarf. But it takes a lot of patience. An incredible amount. Your handwriting has to be just perfect. One bow or curve where there’s not supposed to be one, and it just doesn’t work at all.”
Sandal’s face turned grave. “No enchantment.”
“Right.” Dagna smiled back at him.
She had confirmed in her mind that hiring Sandal had been a good idea. She had no doubt that he would prove his worth, but she wasn’t sure how. After all, she was in the business of technomagical mechanics, not rune-based magic. Perhaps it was all in connecting the points together.
“Well, I must get back to work.” Dagna gave Sandal a little bow. “There’s plenty of lyrium and stone for you to process.” Yes. He could make enchantments for now. Armor enhancements. The Archon would buy them. The army always needed such things.
“Bye!” Grinning brightly, Sandal settled down onto a stool and reached for a hammer.
Dagna’s day proceeded to become so filled with tasks than she almost forgot about Sandal’s presence. She worked through her meal hour, filling orders for crates upon crates of processed lyrium.
Finally, a few moments before the supervisor was set to blow his horn to signal the end of the work day, Dagna was able to go back to her study to work on her newest engine prototype.
She frowned even as she entered the relative quiet of the room, keenly aware of the bustle of activity and cacophony of machines that she had left behind. Though her lyrium engine was already revolutionizing Thedas itself, it remained an extremely expensive bit of the future to maintain. Her mechanized catapult cost the Archon five thousand solidi every single time she turned on the engine. A battle might cost the taxpaying citizens of the Imperium several tens of thousands.
For now, she had the Archon’s support in a continuing project to improve the efficiency of the engine. For now. But, he was not exactly what Dagna would have considered to be a patient man.
Perching herself on a human-sized stool, Dagna continued to frown as she studied the engine. The parts themselves were causing too much friction, but how could she possibly reduce one of the inevitabilities of the universe? She had tried every lubricant known to her or any of the more helpful Magisters, up to and including her own blood. Something had to be altered, but what?
“Working late? Never mind. Don’t answer that.” Dagna smelled the aroma of fried food even before Sigrun dropped a greasy paper parcel next to her arm. “I brought dinner. Let’s talk out your problem.”
“Ugh, I just don’t know.” Dagna threaded her fingers through her hair. “It’s still not efficient enough. There’s just too much friction.”
Sigrun opened the parcel, took out two wooden bowls, and began to divide portions of fried fish and potatoes into each. “Keep talking. It’ll come to you.”
“The problem isn’t the need for more lubricant, but less friction.” Dagna picked up a small tool and began to pry apart the various cogs and wheels. “The parts will eventually wear down. That will mean costly repairs. And when I’m the only one in Thedas that can fix these things…”
Holding a piece of fish between one of her thumbs and forefingers, Sigrun extended it toward Dagna. “You need to write a book or something, because that’s not going to work. But we’ll get to that problem later. Eat.”
Dagna took a bite of the offered fish. “Maybe what we need is more…”
“Bye.” A distinct voice at the door interrupted Dagna and her thoughts.
She turned around, forcing a smile onto her face. “Going home for the day, Sandal? We’ll see you tomorrow, then? Bright and early.”
It was as though Sandal suddenly didn’t hear her. One moment, he was looking at Sigrun and herself. The next, he was moving slowly across the room, his gaze fixed on the engine. With a matter-of-fact gesture, he set his toolkit on Dagna’s workbench.
“Rrr-rrr-rrr,” he noted.
“It doesn’t work right,” said Dagna, allowing her hands to drop in her lap. “It eats fuel too fast.”
Sandal frowned. Opening his toolkit, he produced a number of tools, setting each by one another on the table in a methodical manner. Then, he chose one in particular, one that Dagna knew was specifically meant for the delicate task of carving runes into metals. Leaning across the table, Sandal plunged the tool into the blue flame of the small burner that Dagna kept there, usually to heat up individual cups of tea.
Dagna opened her mouth to say something, when suddenly Sigrun clasped her arm and squeezed hard. Immediately, Dagna slammed her mouth shut and just watched.
Moments ticked by. Sandal drew out the red-hot carver, bent over her engine, and inscribed a number of runes, one next to another. She recognized the words for ‘draw in’, repeated several times, along with ‘channel’ and ‘focus’. Then, as a smile set upon his lips, Sandal worked to fill the grooves in the runes with liquefied lyrium. Blowing gently against the runes so that the lyrium would cool, Sandal stood up straight, poked the forgotten cogs with his fingers, then looked up, imploringly, into Dagna’s face.
Sigrun gave Dagna’s shoulder a small push. Quickly, Dagna took up her own tools, putting back the cogs and parts that she had removed, then filling the fuel tank with several bricks of refined lyrium. Only then did she turn on the engine, expecting its usual great roar but hearing nothing but a contented purr.
“Shiny!” Sandal’s voice sounded excited as he quickly cast a glance around the room, then bolted to a shelf, which held a number of prototype lyrium light fixtures. Grabbing one, he moved quickly back to the table, pressing the wires against the rune for ‘focus’.
Sigrun gasped as the lyrium light lit up, casting a beam across the room.
Sitting upon her stool, Dagna at last found the words to speak: “Shiny indeed.”
“Rrrrr.” Sandal smiled, then uttered what sounded like a playful chuckle.
“Sandal,” murmured Dagna, her eyes moving over the altered prototype, “I think I’m going to give you a raise in pay.”
“And make him a partner in the company.” Sigrun nudged Dagna’s shoulder again, then extended one of the grease-stained bags in Sandal’s direction. “Fried fish, Sandal?”