The swords builder of Skagen [Hakon]

Hakon had a tendency to get sucked into his projects, and today was one of those days. He'd had an order for a new sword, and he'd spent the morning heating the steel to soften it, then forging the shape of the blade with his hammer. The large work of the sword was done now, the blade itself was made. This was to be a special blade, though. He was asked to place runes along the length of the blade, for luck and strength and protection, for skill in battle, and he had just carving the angular shapes into the metal and stuck the sword back into the forge. He stood beside it, wiping sweat from his brow and peering into the forge itself, to see when the metal glowed red as cherries. He reached his large tongs into the forge and grabbed the long, broad sword by the tang. He plunged it into the large barrel of sea water, watching the rising, hissing cloud of steam with satisfaction.

A short, sharp knock sounds on his door and it swings open. He's behind the forge itself, so he can't see who it is, but he recognizes Haskell's voice. He gives the blade a few more seconds in the water before pulling it out. He walks around the forge and gives Haskell a small, genuine smile. He sets the still-smoking sword down on his worktable, carefully pushing aside pieces of antler and wood and he uses for handles. Most of Hakon's forge is immaculate, except for his worktable. It's always littered with various scraps of material and discarded handles when the one he's making isn't up to his standard.

He takes a few steps away from the chaotic table toward the door, pulling the large, heavy leather apron over his head. His clothes beneath it are clean, albeit sweaty, but it's always at least twenty degrees warmer in his shop than it is outside. "Where else would a sword-builder be?" He quirks his eyebrows, a small smirk tilting up the corners of his mouth. "What's more surprising is where the radningar is. Training done for the day?" Hakon isn't necessarily good at conversations, at being friendly, but it's something he's been working on since he opened his shop for business. A tall, lean man with huge arms and a frown, surrounded by weapons and hammers, isn't exactly the best for business. People want their blacksmiths smiling. He picks absently at a small, scabbed-over burn on his left arm.

It was strange how the passage of time changed things, and both men had grown from scrawny, mischievous boys to the men they were now. Men who were easily recognizable, men who were known in Skagen for different reasons. Haskell for his fighting skills and his position, Hakon for his work. It would be a challenge to find a pair of more unlikely friends than Haskell and Hakon: one good-natured and smiling, one solemn and seldom smiling. One friendly and outgoing, the other quiet and reserved. But they both worked hard, both were loyal, both were passionate about their work, and they'd known each other since childhood. They'd had vastly different childhoods, the farmer's son and the orphan, but somehow they'd understood each other and become friends. It was a friendship that had endured many changes, many years, and Hakon was grateful for it.

He steps from behind his forge and watches as Haskell surveys the small knives and axes he has on display. His shelves are less full than usual, just a day or two ago he'd walked around Skagen and delivered some finished projects to his clients. He only quirks his brow when Haskell suggests he could be drinking around the beautiful women, then he outright chuckles when Haskell says he knows there are plenty of women interested in a sword-builder like him. It wasn't untrue, but.... It wasn't exactly untrue, either. Growing up with nothing, Hakon often believes that's what he deserves. His forge and his house are more than he ever thought he would have, and he's grateful for them and grateful for the fact that he has the ability to work hard and provide himself with a good life. But he's poured all his energy into that, and hasn't spent much time focusing on building relationships. He never lacks for female company if he desires it, but he seldom spends the night with the same girl twice. "I think women prefer men who smile." In an instant he wipes the smile from his face, widening his eyes slightly so he looks menacing, maybe even a bit mad. But he drops the expression quickly, his small, easy smile returning. "And why aren't you drinking among the beautiful women? I know they flock to you." He raises his eyebrows, giving Haskell a suggestive smirk, and deciding that he and Haskell need to go drinking together again sometime soon. It's been too long.

He smiles as he hangs his thick leather apron on its hook and Haskell approaches him. He returns Haskell's squeeze on his shoulder with one of his own, grinning over at his friend. "What I'm doing is seldom a mystery. But you, on the other hand, always seem to be doing something interesting. What news of you?" He snorts, rolling his eyes lightly. "Of course I'm doing well. I've been thinking about taking an apprentice, but you know how that ended last time." It had ended, in fact, with Hakon chasing the terrified boy from his shop with a hammer. He wasn't going to actually hurt him, of course, he just wanted the lazy, sullen boy gone for good. Hakon can hardly keep the smirk from his face, remembering. It hadn't exactly been his finest moment, but he hadn't lost much business over it, either. It had been a few years and the boy was now apprenticed to a baker or some such nonsense, and he would flinch if Hakon so much as looked at him. Of course he found that hilarious.

If there's anything Haskell and Hakon both understand, it's how to grow from nothing and make yourself into something. They've come a long way from running around getting in trouble together as children into the respectable men they are. That's not to say they never get into trouble together anymore, because they still do, and that thought is enough to make Hakon grin when Haskell mentions Katregat. He waves off the statement of mysteries being good, and focuses instead on Kattegat. Hakon has traveled a little, he went on a few raids when he was apprenticed to Vidar. His master required his apprentices to go raiding, so they would know what a warrior needed from his weapons. "Of course I'll go to Kattegat and see what their steel is like. I'm sure mine is better, but seeing theirs can't hurt." He raises his eyebrows at his friend. "If you're sure that soft traders town can handle both of us, that is."

He considers for a moment when Haskell says maybe he'll find a suitable apprentice, then shrugs. "It can't hurt to search for one. And if he didn't want to be traumatized, maybe he shouldn't have been so lazy." He shrugs. "He simply didn't have the makings of a good Smith. I won't waste my time on someone who can't handle the work." He smiles sheepishly at Haskell when he asks if he has a place less hot. He's accustomed to the heat of his forge, but most people are not. "We'll go into the house." He walks over to the front door of the shop and drops the locking bar into place. The back door of his shop leads outside, and behind the forge is a small yard containing a large woodpile, a small cart for hauling things, and Hakon's house.

He opens the door and motions Haskell inside. His house is small and neat, a table against one wall and a large hearth against the other. His pots hang in hooks on the wall and there's a sword resting on pegs above the door, a shield painted blue resting beside it. There's a pair of chairs at the table, a jug of water and loaf of bread resting on it. His old dog, lying near the hearth, lifts his head and sighs happily, stretching his head up to be stroked, and Hakon crouches down to oblige him. The dog probably doesn't have much longer left to live, but Hakon has had him since he was apprenticed to Vidar. He stays in the house and yard mostly, or sometimes accompanies Hakon in the forge, but he doesn't roam with him anymore.

Hakon stands and grabs two cups from their hanging spot on the wall, takes a jug of ale from a shelf, and pours it into the two cups. He makes a vague gesture indicating Haskell should make himself comfortable, and takes a sip of his ale before raising his eyebrows at his friend. "Better?" He grins.

Hakon chuckles as Haskell says he knows Hakon's steel is better than Kattegat's. He's a proud man, especially when it comes to his work, and he knows that's something Haskell understands. They're much the same way in that regard, these two men who are so different in so many ways. But they've grown up together, grown strong and responsible and good. And if they're both a bit prideful of their work, well, there are worse things to be than proud. They could be mean or unkind, they could be selfish and sneaky, but they aren't. If pride is their biggest downfall, then the pair of them are doing alright. Their careers have taken them on vastly different and yet entwined directions, and Hakon thinks that's a fortunate thing. It allows them the chance to remain friends, and the chance for new adventures together, like traveling to Kattegat. He returns Haskell's grin with one of his own. "Of course I'll come to Kattegat. It's been too long since I left here."

He's spent the last five years building his business, and it's finally at a point where he knows he can leave for a little while and still have customers when he returns. It's time he took a short break from Skagen, and Kattegat is as good a place as any. He chuckles, shaking his head, when Haskell says his former apprentice makes good bread. "Of course I didn't taste it, he'd probably poison me." Hakon scoffs. He shrugs. "Although I guess I'd deserve it." He groans when Haskell continues, saying he'll find someone worthy of being his apprentice if only he's himself. "Haskell, I'm not one of your warriors-in-training. Your inspirational talks don't work on me." He aims a half-hearted jab at his friend's shoulder, shaking his head. "Just be yourself. Gods. Save it for the frús." He can't help but chuckle. Haskell's advice is good, but he's right. Hakon is pretty true to himself most of the time.

He pours the ale when they enter his house and watches as Haskell sets his sword on the table so he could sit more comfortably. He remembered that sword, the forging of it and the delicate pattern in the steel. It was a beautiful blade, perhaps some of his finest work so far, and he was happy to see Haskell still carried it. He'd put all his skill and care into it and all the small smithing magics Vidar had taught him. The sword carries the kiss of flames and the embrace of the ocean, for he'd quenched it in seawater. He'd cut his own palm with the blade so it would know the taste of blood and always thirst for it. He turns his attention from the sword back to Haskell as he speaks, asking him what he wanted next in life. Hakon had never thought much past getting his forge up and running and his client base established, and now that he'd accomplished his goals, now what? Now he continued on, forging and building his client base, and he built his reputation as the best blacksmith around. He would take apprentices and teach his craft to younger men and women, and what? He raises his cup in Haskell's direction. "That's the question, isn't it? I'll keep forging, and I'll take an apprentice. Maybe find a woman, have a family. Who knows but the gods?" He takes a sip from his ale and raises his eyebrows at Haskell. "And what do you want, Haskell? You've come a long way, my friend, and built yourself an impressive reputation."

Now that Haskell had mentioned traveling to Kattegat, the thought of it filled him with excitement. Hakon loved his life, he loved his shop and his work and his few friends, but he still craved excitement. He hadn't left Skagen in years, not since he was still an apprentice, not since before Vidar died. And he'd been happy out of Skagen, on those raids he'd gone on years ago. It had helped prove to him that he was strong enough, that he was a Viking and not just a blacksmith. It had helped his craft, too, to learn for himself what a warrior expected of his weapons. To see the stress a weapon was expected to handle, the death and destruction it's expected to give to enemies. Hakon liked fighting, too, but he knows the gods crafted him more for the forging of weapons than the wielding of them. He likes fighting, but he loves forging. It's where he knows he belongs, in his shop in Skagen, with his house nearby and his old, loyal dog. But even so, that doesn't mean that he can't enjoy leaving if the opportunity presents itself, and he's glad it has. He's even more glad he'll get to travel with Haskell. They don't spend nearly as much time together as they once did, but they're both busy men and he supposes that's just how life is sometimes. He nods when Haskell says he'll keep him updated on the travel plans, grinning. "I'm looking forward to it."

He laughs when Haskell tells him poison is a woman's weapon, raising his eyebrows. "It may be a woman's weapon, but that has never stopped men from using it. Just like swords and axes usually being men's weapons hasn't stopped women from becoming shieldmaidens." He laughs as Haskell laughs, his body rolling with Hakon's light punch. "Of course I appreciate your good advice. Except unlike your thegns, I already know who I am. Being true to myself isn't that difficult. But at least they have your excellent advice to guide them." His tone is light and teasing, still chuckling, and he rolls his eyes slightly. Haskell is an easy person to be around, friendly and outgoing,and people seem to gravitate to him. Hakon supposes that must be what makes him such a good teacher for the young warriors. Besides that, he has a reputation as a fierce Viking, and that makes others respect him. If he wasn't a good warrior, Halfdan never would have chosen him to teach the young fighters sword-craft. Hakon ctilts his head, cracking his neck, and his next words are thoughtful. "If I do take another apprentice, though, I'll have to come to the training field and see how you teach the warriors. You're a much better teacher than I am. I can't scare off two apprentices in a row, no one will ever want to learn from me, and I do want to pass my craft along."

When they're back in the house drinking ale, Hakon inspects the weapon Haskell places on the table for a few moments before Haskell asks him what he wants from life. His gaze slides from the sword to his friend, he takes a sip of ale and considers the question. To build his craft and teach others, to follow the path the gods have set before his feet. The answer is simple and honest, and he pulls an offended look when Haskell teases him. "I am not grumpy." His voice is gruff when he says it, but he's still smiling to let his friend know the teasing isn't bothering him. He chuckles at Haskell's next statement, shrugging. "I'll just need to find a brave woman, then." He outright laughs when Haskell says Hakon will kill him. "We both know I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to. Feel free to keep giving your inspirational talks, but don't get offended if I keep rolling my eyes at them." He nods when Haskell states what he wants to do, and Hakon raises his cup toward him. "May the gods grant you all that you wish." His tone is serious, and he takes a sip of his ale, which he nearly spits out when Haskell continues and winks at him. He raises his brows as he recovers from the slight choke. "Whatever the gods have in store for you, I'm sure it will be good. Especially if you stop mocking people." He sticks his tongue out childishly, trying hard not to laugh.