SoulSilver
The heat of the flames beside him urged him on, coaxing him to pour that precious liquid into the mold with a fervor of new-found motivation. Silver droplets tumbled into the spoon-shaped hollow and quickly gushed on with a perfected speed, not being so slow as to harden and become useless but also not so fast as to splatter the precious metal all over the floor inside of the New Bark Village Silversmith's shop.
The boy at the helm of this careful task, by some strange irony, was also by the name of Silver, named for his piercing eyes that mimicked the metal he had learned to handle.
The boy had learned his craft well, anyone could see that. After coming into the town as an orphan with a knack of theft, most would have thrown him aside. Was it not for the kindness of the village's Silversmith, he could be out on the cobblestone streets looking for a carriage to rob.
Sweat dripped off of the boy's head, but he dared not lift a hand from his work. Only when the mold was completely filled did he place the bowl down and wipe the beads of perspiration off of his face.
It was then that he saw her.
Metallic eyes widened at the young brunette who conversed with his master, the girl looking for the baker—seeing as he was once again missing from his shop. The apprentice stopped and watched that radiant smile stretch across her face before she let out a laugh. The sweet melody danced through the dusty and ash-coated corner of the smith before soaring into the sky to fade out of hearing.
Ah, how he loved that sound.
"Thou shall not commit fornication while thou learnest thy trade, Silver."
The familiar mock jolted the redhead out of his daydreams and forced him to spin around and shoot a glare at the black-haired boy.
It was Ethan, the boy who was apprenticed to the Goldsmith a few doors down.
Silver growled with bright red cheeks at the familiar and embarrassing point of his contract. Metallic eyes narrowed with a playful grin as the black-haired boy snapped his attention to the recognizable brunette at the head of the shop.
"That fair lass is far out of thy class, red-haired." Ethan nudged the dirty silversmith's apprentice as the boy suddenly felt self-conscious of the worn breeches and jacket he was given a long six months ago. Hard work and rough conditions could certainly wear out cotton cloth and Stantler skin. "The governor's daughter is far above thee."
"Nay," The redhead scowled at the smug apprentice's grin. "When the day comes, I shall own my own silversmith's and earn plenty of gold. Besides, I only have a mere five years before my apprenticeship ends."
Ethan smiled and shook his head.
"Five years is quite enough time to have been married off to a currently wealthy lord. Thou still stand no chance at earning her hand, Crimson."
Silver scowled and turned back to look at the governor's daughter. His heart sank in his chest as she waved the silversmith farewell and turned to return to her carriage. Hazel eyes locked on to his dirt-covered face for an instant, causing her to suddenly stop. She glanced towards the silversmith and smiled as she watched him return to his own position in the forge. With a quick glance around to see if anyone else was watching, she pulled out a small handkerchief and let it drop to the ground.
Silver quickly dashed out to grab the fine cloth, leaving the fellow apprentice standing there with an open mouth. He quickly snatched the fabric off the ground to find her already closing the door to her ride home. Scarlett locks fluttered in a sudden breeze for a moment as she gave him a smile and shut the door. The silversmith's apprentice watched her carriage driver call out to the twin mares and head back for New Bark Manor, leaving him standing in the street with her handkerchief in hand.
A small smirk of triumph filled his face as he spun back towards the awe-struck goldsmith's apprentice. With a wave of the now treasured cloth he laughed back to Ethan, "Aye, she may be of higher class, but her heart doth lie with a common apprentice!"
Ethan just slammed a dirt-coated hand into his fire-tanned face and prayed that no one had heard his friend's whoop of pure joy.
Author's Note: Aye, it doth seem that mine studies of colonial America hath affected mine writings. /tries not to chuckle as she imitates a solemn colonist/ For truth, it doth seem that even thy 'OTP' hath obtained a colonial setting, featuring even the colonial tongue thath driveth the world unsteady.
Alright, back to modern English, eh? I was reading a book for school (Amos Fortune: Free Man, in case you were curious) and found a document on apprenticeship from back in the early 1800's/late 1700's and it somehow lead to this lovely piece of writing. In case you're curious/lost, Ethan basically told Silver that a certain three-letter word is out of the question, seeing as the redhead keeps staring at the young brunette. (Sad thing is, in this time period many children never make it out alive. Let's just hope that our favorite little Pokémon Trainers are of the rugged variety and survive colonial life, eh?)
[Seriously, colonial dorks sound like Thor from the Avengers. I can't even keep a straight face at the dialog in this; it's just so dated that it hurts!]