Credit goes to the awesome Ciaxlia for this idea! You wanted to see Malroth "building" or having a different hobby aside from destroying stuff, and I hope this does your idea justice :)
Malroth still isn't good at building stuff, but maybe he doesn't have to build to actually be a builder.
The Blacksmith's Assistant
"DAMN IT!"
Malroth growled and shoved the broken pieces of stone off the workbench, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly. The Builder, who had been patiently supervising, placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
"I'll never get the hang of this," he groaned, feeling more hopeless than ever. His alter ego may have been defeated, but he still couldn't make stuff like the Builder. He could make basic little things like torches, but not wall blocks, structures, or furniture; how the heck did she manage to do this 24/7 without breaking a sweat? And how did she make such amazing-quality stuff on her first try when he could barely make something acceptable?
"It takes time," the Builder consoled. "You'll pick it up sooner or later, and then you'll be building so much that you'll look back on this day and laugh."
Malroth seriously doubted that. She was trying to be nice, but it was obvious he wasn't cut out to become a bona-fide builder like everyone else on the Isle of Awakening. He didn't mind being the odd man out, but everyone looked like they enjoyed making stuff. He wanted to be able to make stuff, too.
"Look, why don't we go grab a drink?" the blonde suggested, tugging at his elbow. That dopey smile was back on her pretty face, the smile that always managed to make him smile as well. "C'mon, a digger's jigger or two might make you feel better. Maybe you're having trouble building because you've been at this for hours now and you're burnt out. We can always try again later."
The master of destruction grumbled under his breath, but unfolded his arms and began to follow his best friend towards the new bar she'd built for Den. The closer they got to the gold-brick establishment, the more Malroth began to feel a little better. Dougie and Digby weren't there this particular evening, probably goofing off on the railroad tracks the Builder had placed around the entire isle, but he was still happy to see a few of their friends putting their feet up at the counter.
"Malroth, Builder!" Den greeted with a warm smile. "What can I do fer ya?"
"Two digger's jiggers on the double, please!" the Builder replied cheerfully. She and Malroth took a seat at one of the tables where one of the bunnysuit-clad dancers approached them and rattled off the menu. After ordering dinner to go with their drinks, the two best friends leaned back against their chairs and simply enjoyed the upbeat vibe of the bar.
At one point, the blonde excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Malroth to his thoughts. His mind kept going back to the workbench, how everything he tried to make either came out crappy or literally blew up in his face. Technically speaking, he was no longer the true master of destruction, so why was he still struggling to make stuff? The others could create massive wonders without breaking a sweat, so why couldn't he do it, too? What was so wrong with him that he couldn't make anything?
The Builder returned to find her friend fuming, just as he'd been earlier at the workbench. Other people seemed to have moved their chairs away from the seething male and she sighed, sitting across from him.
"Are you thinking about building again?"
"No," he snapped. At the hurt that flashed in her eyes, he amended, "Okay, fine, yes. I'm frustrated. I just want to help you guys build stuff, but no matter how hard I try, I still can't make anything."
"You know, building doesn't always mean actually building structures and furniture," the blonde mused aloud, her fingers tapping against the table's surface. "Building takes many forms. You can build relationships, for example, and you can certainly manipulate objects."
Just then, their drinks were delivered and the Builder made sure to take a hearty sip of hers. Scarlet Sands was beautiful and she loved the warm weather, but being out in the hot sun all day made for a rather dry throat. She savored the bittersweet taste of aged vineapple.
Malroth raised an eyebrow at her statement. "Manipulate objects how?"
"You've seen those paintings in the Cerulean Steppe art gallery, right?" At his nod, she continued: "Applying paint to canvas is technically manipulating the canvas. You're changing it and making it something new, something different than what it originally was. That's one example."
"But is it really building?"
"I guess it depends on how you look at it," she admitted. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be, like, a carpenter to be a builder, so if you're not able to whip up a chair or build an entire house, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I meant it when I said building takes many forms. You just have to find something you enjoy and something you're good at making."
"But what if I'm never able to make anything? What if I never become a builder?"
"Don't worry so much," she assured him, taking another sip. "You'll become a builder one day. It may take time and it may take a lot more practice, but I have faith in you."
The Builder's words rang through Malroth's head the next day as he pondered what building actually entailed. Could he really be a builder without actually building anything? He couldn't create things like other people, so what had she been getting at? It sounded a little stupid to him, being a "builder" of relationships...
"Malroth!" The man in question turned to see Magrog jogging up to him. "If you aren't busy, can you help me with something?"
"Sure, what's up?" He brandished his mallet. "Any monsters giving you a hard time?"
"Nothing like that, thank the goddess." The blacksmith pointed to his forge. "I need your help with a new weapon I'm making."
"Me, help you?" Malroth blinked. "You do realize who you're talking to, right? I can't make much of anything, let alone a weapon."
Magrog laughed. "I'm not asking you to make the entire thing, I just need your help for a moment. I need an extra set of muscles to help me shape a sword that Anessa requested."
"And if it blows up?"
"If it blows up, I'll just make another one. No big deal."
Malroth nodded slowly, as if getting used to the idea that someone was willing to let him help build something. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"
"Follow me to the smithy and I'll show you. It shouldn't take long, but if it does, I'd be glad to pay you for your time."
"Don't worry about it," the destructive male waved him off. "Just show me what you need help with and I'll do what I can."
The Builder started getting worried when she didn't see Malroth for a good three days after their conversation at Den's bar.
She knew he was still in Scarlet Sands. He spent a good chunk of his time there because he loved the atmosphere and the hot environment. It was like a slice of Khrumbul-Dun, just without the mines and endless underground tunnels. Malroth had told her on many occasions how much he'd loved their time on the arid island, so it made sense that he'd spend lots of time in the one place on the Isle that was similar to it.
The blonde checked the bar, the pool, even the spa resort, but all lacked her best friend's presence. She was about to give up and continue her search in Green Gardens when she heard metal clashing against metal. If she didn't know any better, she'd say Magrog was hard at work at the forge; lots of people commissioned him for new silverware and such, so it wasn't crazy to think he'd be busy.
She sidled up to the smithy and peeked in through the window, surprised to see not Magrog banging away at the anvil, but Malroth. Magrog joined him a moment later and they both worked to shape the red-hot blade.
Malroth cut a rather handsome silhouette against the forge's flames. The Builder stood transfixed by the way both men worked together to shape the red-hot metal, her gaze lingering mostly on Malroth. Despite the dimness of the room, she could still see his muscles bulging and flexing slightly as he brought his hammer down again and again. Sweat glistened on his skin and his expression was fixed with concentration as he assisted the blacksmith in creating weaponry.
Had Malroth always been so... hot?
The Builder blushed at that thought. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be thinking such things about her best friend! Malroth was incredibly handsome, yes, but hot?
Yet she remained where she stood, her eyes glued to the handsome young man as he worked. She knew it was rather telling that her first thought about him in that moment was that he was hot, but that could be dealt with later. Right now, all she could do was watch as he and Magrog successfully shaped and tempered a beautiful new sword. The smithy high-fived the destructive young man once they were finished, breaking the spell the Builder had been under.
Once the sword was ready, Malroth tested it and it held up perfectly. Magrog clapped enthusiastically, and he said something that made the warrior grin.
The Builder watched as they went through the process of making another sword. Throughout it, Malroth stood by and let Magrog do his thing, then assisted when it came to shaping and tempering the blade. She would have stayed in that spot forever, just admiring her best friend. She knew Malroth had muscles and he was strong, but now that she could actually get a good look at him, good goddess...
"'E's rather fit, isn't 'e?"
The sly tone of Babs's voice told the blonde she'd been busted. Her face grew red as she turned to face the Khrumbul-Dunnian dancer, who was wearing a shit-eating smirk.
"H-how long have you been there?"
"Long enough to know you were makin' eyes at Malroth. You were checkin' 'im out, weren't you?"
The Builder gasped. "N-no, I wasn't! I-I was just surprised to see him at the forge is all!"
"Mmhmm." Babs wasn't convinced. "Can't say I blame ya. Malroth's a looker and any woman 'oo says otherwise is kiddin' 'erself."
The blonde didn't agree or disagree, her heart still thumping furiously because she'd been caught checking out her best friend. Which wasn't the worst thing in the world, of course, but dang it, this was embarrassing. "Y-you're not gonna tell him, are you?"
"'Course not, I ain't no snitch," the strawberry-blonde laughed. "But if you need Malroth for somethin', I can let Magrog know. Yer face is redder than a fresh vineapple and I think 'e'll get suspicious if 'e sees you in such a state."
The Builder heaved a sigh of relief. Honestly, she hadn't meant to start ogling the destructive male, but one look at the way his muscles rippled as he shaped a blade... It made her stomach do flips. It made her feel light and airy.
He's hotter than that blade he's working on.
"I think they're almost finished with Anessa's order," the dancer continued. "Why don't ya come grab a digger's jigger on the 'ouse while ya wait?"
Reluctantly, the Builder followed Babs away from the smithy, where Malroth and Magrog continued working none the wiser.
It was later that evening after the Builder discovered Malroth had taken up smithing when she actually saw him again. She was still wrestling with the strange new feelings that had bubbled forth at the image of Malroth hard at work in the smithy, but she felt a little better after a digger's jigger. Babs had been kind enough to let her think things out on her own, and while the Builder had come to the conclusion that okay, maybe she did have a tiny crush on Malroth, she decided she'd keep it to herself for now. The most important thing was that the guy had finally found a hobby that technically made him a builder. He was helping to create weapons, which was pretty fitting, and he looked like he had fun while doing it. She was proud of him for finally finding his niche in terms of making stuff.
The blonde was relaxing in her hotel room and brushing out her hair when a knock pulled her from her thoughts.
"It's open, come on in!"
The door creaked open and she turned around to see Malroth. His appearance was slightly different than usual: his jacket was missing and in its stead was a worn, dirty apron that reached a little past his knees. The blonde could tell he'd been hard at work in the smithy again, but this time, his stance was different than usual. His arms were behind his back as if he were hiding something and his expression was rather shy, only piquing the Builder's curiosity.
"I heard you were looking for me. Someone giving you a hard time about the stuff you've built?"
"No, nothing like that." The Builder smiled. "Just wanted to see what you were up to. I haven't seen you in a few days and the last time we spoke, you were pretty unhappy."
"Oh... Sorry again, by the way. I didn't mean to snap at you, I was just frustrated." He remained where he stood, and the Builder wanted to ask what he had behind his back, but he continued, "Listen, I actually stopped by to give you something. I decided to try something new and it turns out I'm not horrible at it, so I wanted to try making something on my own, and since you're always patient with me, I figured maybe..."
That got her attention. Malroth wasn't the type to give gifts. She nodded for him to continue and he blushed. "Uh, I'll just... Here."
At the curious tilt of her head, he looked away and reached out to place something in her hand. It was small, coarse, and metallic, and he hesitated before moving his hand away to uncover it. The Builder stared at the tiny heart-shaped iron piece in her hand. It was the weirdest heart she'd ever seen, but it was also the most beautiful. She could tell that he'd worked hard to create the shape, crude as it might be; it was clearly a labor of love, and despite its odd shape, it shone in the light.
"It... It's nothing like what you can make, but I hope you like it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh... I wasn't sure what to make, but Babs said that most girls like heart-shaped things and it was the only one that didn't break under my touch."
The Builder fought a chuckle at the mention of the dancer. She could practically see Babs winking and nudging Malroth her way. That girl is something else, I swear.
Malroth held his breath as he watched her expression carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. He wondered if she was trying not to laugh, and it would be a kick in the teeth if she did burst into laughter over his attempt. He'd spent four hours trying to make that heart. He'd scrapped multiple pieces of iron that had been heated too much or had cooled before he had time to start shaping it. Some pieces of iron had even blown up in his face when he'd touched them; it was a wonder that Magrog hadn't become exasperated or thrown him out, but the smithy was incredibly patient and kept telling him not to give up, to keep at it.
"You... You made this for me?" the Builder finally asked. She couldn't stop staring at the small token of Malroth's efforts. That funny feeling she'd fought off was back, butterflies filling her stomach. He'd made a little heart for her, how cute was that?
He shifted uneasily. "Yeah. What, uh... What do you think?"
He'd been mentally preparing for her to laugh at him. What he hadn't prepared for was when the Builder flung her arms around him in a big hug.
"I think this is the most beautiful gift anyone's ever given me," she gushed. "I love it! It's so pretty!"
"Pretty...?" Malroth hadn't expected a compliment either, and certainly not a genuine one. "Really?"
"Yes!" The Builder stepped back and held it up to the light, admiring its wonky shape and the way it shone despite its coarse texture. A labor of love indeed. "It's beautiful! How long did it take you to make this?"
"A while. I went through a lot of iron ore." Which was true; he'd promised Magrog that he'd foot the bill for ordering more iron despite the blacksmith insisting that that wasn't necessary. "You... You really like it?"
She beamed at him, and she grew bold enough to get on her tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Of course I do! You made it for me, after all. Thank you."
Malroth blushed, unsure of what to say to that. All he knew was that if she liked that little heart this much, he'd make her all the iron hearts she wanted. "You're welcome."
"When did you decide to take up smithing?"
"A few days ago." The spiky-haired male jammed his thumb over his shoulder. "Magrog needed help with some swords Anessa ordered and he's been teaching me the basics ever since. I'm nowhere near his level of expertise, but I do like working at the forge."
Their conversation about his difficulty with building returned to the front of her mind and she smiled. He'd become a builder alright, and he didn't even realize it.
"Hey Mal, you remember how you were upset that you'd never make anything?"
"Yeah, why?"
She grinned, holding up the crude iron heart proudly. "I'd say this definitely makes you a builder."
I apologize if I screwed up any of the blacksmithing terminology/process, I tried doing research but if I made any errors, feel free to PM me and I'll fix what I can!
