Story: "What Little Boys Are Made Of"
Apr. 1st, 2016 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis story fills the "meet the parents / family" square in my 1-4-16 card for the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trope_bingo fest.
This story belongs to the series Love Is For Children which includes "Love Is for Children," "Hairpins," "Blended," "Am I Not," "Eggshells," "Dolls and Guys,""Saudades," "Querencia," "Turnabout Is Fair Play," "Touching Moments," "Splash," "Coming Around," "Birthday Girl," "No Winter Lasts Forever," "Hide and Seek," "Kernel Error," "Happy Hour," "Green Eggs and Hulk,""kintsukuroi," "Little and Broken, but Still Good," "Up the Water Spout," "The Life of the Dead," "If They Could Just Stay Little," "Anahata," "When the Wheels Come Off," "Against His Own Shield," "Coming in from the Cold: Saturday: Building Towers," and "Coming in from the Cold: Sunday: Shaking Foundations," and "Coming in from the Cold: Monday: Memorial Day."
Fandom: The Avengers
Characters: Tony Stark, Howard Stark, Master Tom, Obadiah Stane, Master Ewan.
Medium: Fiction
Warnings: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting. Child abuse and neglect. Rebellion. Tony Stark's misspent youth. Brief references to underage drinking, sex, and other unwise activities. Obie. Because Obie Is Always a Warning.
Summary: According to canon, Tony Stark is a blacksmith. This is how that happened.
Notes: Craftsmanship. Competence. Gentleness. Trust. Creativity. Friendship.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
Here ends "What Little Boys Are Made Of." Thank you all for sticking with the series this far! I love your input. Final thoughts on the story overall are welcome, in addition to reactions on this specific chapter.
I also have a list of favorite photogenic scenes from the whole series for fanartists to consider, partly compiled from audience requests.
A note on feedback: While it's not necessary to comment on every post I make, remember that I don't know who reads/likes things if nobody says anything. Particularly on long stories, I've discovered that I get antsy if there's nothing but crickets chirping for several posts. So it helps to give me feedback at least once, even if it's just "I like this" or "This one doesn't grab me." First and last episodes are ideal if you rarely feel inspired to comment in the middle.
"What Little Boys Are Made Of" Part 4
[August 1, 1987]
Tony is sorting a new order of barstock into the cubbies and crates for storage. The long fine rods go into cubbies, almost like a mailroom wall, while the heavy ones go in crates like the ingots do. They're shipped in boxes that weigh up to fifty pounds, but Tony has to look at the labels to tell that. They all feel like feathers to him now.
Master Tom and Master Ewan lean against the wall, chatting quietly. Tony can still hear them. They're talking about him and Obie and Howard. Tony puts the barstock away very carefully so that he can make out the words.
"So this first chump shows up, just two weeks after I've hired the boy. Likes to think he's a big man," Master Tom says with a chuckle.
Master Ewan chews the stem of his pipe. "Trouble?"
"Oh he tried, he tried," Master Tom says. "Tony all quaking in his boots, and Mr. Chump trying to bribe me into pitching him out. Wrote me a check as wide as a Clydesdale's ass. But Tony wouldn't quit, so I sure wouldn't quit on him."
"What did you do with the check?" asks Master Ewan.
"Well, see ..." Master Tom scratches the side of his neck. "I had to shut the door in Mr. Chump's face, so Tony needed a scrap of paper to light the oil lamp with."
Master Ewan's laugh is a piercing YEE hee hee! like a billy goat bleating. Even Tony smiles where he is meticulously placing the new jewelry wire into the drawers of its little cabinet. "Any more trouble after that?" Master Ewan asks.
"Just a bit," says Master Tom. "Week later, this weaselly little creep shows up, claims to be Tony's father. Well la-di-da, look who's late to the party!"
Master Ewan leans over to spit on the floor. "Yep, I know the story," he says. "Last summer I had the same problem with my girl 'Prentice, you remember her."
"The one who wanted to become an armorer so people wouldn't keep trying to sell her boobplate?" Master Tom says with a grin. "Indeed I do. I heard she's going medieval, got herself a journeywoman job at Pennsic War this year. I don't doubt we'll be hearing great things about Tony in a year or two. So anyway, Mr. Weasel wanted to take Tony home."
Tony is trying very hard not to snicker out loud. Everyone in the world (except for Tony) wants to kiss Howard Stark's ass, and here's Master Tom calling him Mr. Weasel.
"I'm guessing that didn't go too well for Mr. Weasel," says Master Ewan.
Ha! Now there are two of them.
"I figured that Tony needed a chance to stand up for himself, and by that time he had enough muscle starting to make good on it," says master Tom. "So Mr. Weasel marched himself into my smithy, all fancy in his white shirt, and tried to drag Tony home. Only Tony wouldn't budge! That rich fart might as well have tried to pull up a hickory sapling with his bare hands."
YEE hee hee! goes Master Ewan. "Serves him right."
"Boy's got backbone, I'll give him that," says Master Tom. Then he raises his voice. "Hey, 'Prentice! You done putting away that shipment?"
"Yes, Master Tom," says Tony as he straightens up.
"Well, pull some of the shoeing iron back out. This morning I'm going to teach you how to shoe a pony. At least this way, when you get kicked, it's not liable to break bone," says Master Tom. "Then after lunch, Master Ewan's going to show you how to make a folding blade. Boy ought to have a decent pocketknife, I don't know what your father was thinking, letting you run around without one."
Howard hadn't been thinking about Tony at all, is what. But Tony is starting to care about that ... just a little less.
"Thank you, Master Tom," he says crisply as he selects the proper barstock.
* * *
[August 31, 1987]
By the end of summer, Tony has learned how to make all the tourist things: candleholders, rings and keychains, door knockers, hooks and handles, even simple lanterns. He can make both nails and horseshoes, and shoe the phlegmatic ponies from the pony ride. He has made enough tools for himself that he needs a toolbox for them, a handsome wooden thing bartered from the village carpenter.
Sometimes in the evenings, they gather with the other staff and sing or play musical instruments. Tony has a set of spoons that he made himself and is learning how to play. These fireside circles are pretty much the closest he's had to family, to friends, to community.
Tony knows that his time here is coming to an end. He knows, and he hates it. This summer has been a little island of peace and joy in a life that consists mainly of glitz, boredom, and fights with his father. If anything Tony is surprised that Howard has let it go on so long, but maybe he has more important things to worry about. In any case, classes will resume soon, and Tony has to go back to MIT. He does love the labs there ... but he'll miss the dim, grimy haven on the forge.
Maybe he'll build his own someday.
"Summer's almost over," Master Tom says thoughtfully.
"Yeah, I was thinking, maybe next year --" Tony begins.
"No, I told you back at the beginning, I take a new apprentice every year," Master Tom says, shaking his head. "You've already learned most of what I could teach you. The rest takes practice."
"Then ... what happens now?" Tony says. He tries not to let the disappointment show. "Are you firing me?"
"Now we see if you're fit to be a journeyman," says Master Tom. "Come here, and bring your tools. I want you to make a pair of twist-jaw tongs, a candle stand, and a brooch back."
Tony begins with the tongs. That is the most straightforward project, a test of strength, because the barstock for tools is stubborn stuff. He's built up a respectable amount of muscle over the summer, though. The hammer sings in his hands as he works.
When Tony offers the tongs for inspection, Master Tom nods approval. "Next, the candle stand," he says.
That one is a test of artistry. Tony decides to make something original. He twists together three slim bars as a frame, spreading them at the bottom to form feet and at the top to support the candle glass. He adds decorative chains trailing from the tips of the bars back down to the base. To hold the candle glass, he makes a cup of holly leaves, each thorn meticulously drawn out and sharpened. He feels proud of his work, but --
"I can't finish this with the supplies I have right here," Tony admits. "It needs a glass, because you said stand and not holder."
"Finish it," says Master Tom, holding out a round of dimpled crystal from the glassmaker's shop.
Tony takes the glass, carefully measuring it against the cup he has forged. It needs a little careful tweaking of the iron leaves, and then the glass sits perfectly in its place.
"Light it," says Master Tom. He hands over a beeswax votive candle.
Tony sets it into the glass. Then he unsheathes his survival knife and the flake of flint alongside it, deftly striking sparks onto the cotton wick. The candle flares to life.
"Well done," says Master Tom. "One last piece. Use the jewelry anvil, and you may borrow my fine tools."
This one makes Tony nervous, because it's a test of finesse. Jewelry is delicate stuff. It has to look beautiful as well as holding together, and it's easy to break. He works slowly, carefully, tapping out a flat round plate and making the lacy edge that will later hold the inset cabochon. Then he fashions a pin from wire and welds it onto the back.
"Now add this," says Master Tom. He gives Tony a cabochon of ceramic glazed with an anvil and the word Journeyman. "If you can set this without breaking anything, you're in."
Tony takes the cabochon, applies a dab of jewelry glue, and fits the ceramic in place. He tries to press the lace edge around it with his fingers. That's when he realizes the problem: he's strong enough, but his fingertips dent around the metal instead of bending it. If he uses the hammer, or even the wooden mallet, he might crack the cabochon. If he rolls the edge against the anvil, he might chip or scratch the fragile surface of the glaze.
Desperate, Tony looks around for inspiration -- and spies a scrap of leather in a box on the workbench. He wraps the leather around the brooch to protect it, then carefully rolls the edge against the anvil to fold the loops around the cabochon. When he opens the leather, the brooch gleams whole and perfect in the palm of his hand.
Tony passes it to Master Tom with a little bow. "Assignment complete, sir," he says.
Master Tom examines the brooch minutely. "Congratulations, Journeyman," he says, and pins it to Tony's shirt. "Don't forget the real meaning of this. It doesn't mean that you're done learning. It means that you need to go find other masters to learn from, because each of us can teach you different things. Blacksmithing is a grand profession. It built the foundation of the world we know. It can save lives, or end them. So you treat it with respect, and you go make me proud."
"Yes, sir," Tony says.
"And don't listen to your father, he's an idiot," says Master Tom.
Tony grins at him. "I never do."
* * *
[October 1, 1987]
In autumn, Tony settles back into MIT. He reads all the textbooks and then the recommended reading list. He does the homework as far ahead as the syllabi permit. He gets to know his new professors (casually) and the incoming freshmen (intimately). Tony finds graduate school slightly less boring than undergraduate school.
He also rents a garage off campus and uses it to create his own forge. It isn't much at first, but it's his, and he uses it to expand his set of blacksmithing tools. He even makes his own anvil to replace the one he bought. Tony loves creating things. He experiments with welding in new ways, even though he's been welding things for years. Somehow the blacksmithing gives him a fresh perspective on it. There are wild new ideas simmering in his mind.
Tony doesn't have an apprentice. Nobody sane wants to work with him, because admittedly, he's kind of a dick. So he can't just count on hiring help like Master Tom can. But he might be able to build some ...
The first thing Tony does with his freshly built wrought iron workbench is write a letter and a check. He arranges for an endowment for the historic village, to make sure it can continue without worrying about funds. He has more money than he knows what to do with anyway. He also establishes a scholarship for apprentices, so that nobody has to miss out on a terrific opportunity just because they can't afford a summer job that pays archaic-rate wages.
Tony routes the donation through a carefully constructed relay of cover accounts. He's not making this one for fame, like the galas his parents drag him to periodically. He suspects that Master Tom will figure it out anyway.
That done, Tony puts a few irons in the fire. While they heat, he begins making preliminary sketches in his notebook. This won't be a full build, not yet. He's just noodling around designs for now. Once he gets a model that he likes, then he can scale up using the major welding equipment. For now, Tony debates the merits of two, three, or four fingers while keeping an eye on the color temperature of his barstock.
The phone rings. He'd only installed the thing in case of emergency, and he hadn't given the number to anyone. So it had to be Howard. Grumbling, Tony answers the phone. "What do you want?"
Howard rambles something about charity and the mayor and music and several dates later in the month.
Tony listens with half an ear, the majority of his attention on the whirr of the fan and the merry chinkle of coals in the forge. He reaches out with his tongs and grasps a piece of barstock. The end glows a bright yellow.
"Uh huh, yeah, great, whatever. Listen, I have to go now. I've got something in the oven," Tony says. He hangs up.
Then he goes to work.
* * *
Notes:
Storytelling connects families and communities. It has many functions, including the way it helps people to cope with traumatic experiences. Here are some tips on family storytelling.
Apprenticeship is a way of learning a practical trade. A journeyman is fully trained, but hasn't yet learned the finer skills that lead to mastery. Depending on the craft, the amount of effort spent, and the talent of the student it can take anywhere from a few months to several years for an apprentice to become a journeyman. Tony's at the fast end of the scale.
Learn how to make twist-jaw tongs as in this picture.
Learn how to make a Gothic candle stand, like this one.
Learn how to make a brooch back, such as this. They may have a stone or ceramic insert. Vintage blacksmith emblems show a variety of tools used to symbolize the trade. These were used on signs, stamps, and badges.
Here are some general guidelines on how to forge things and projects.
This is one example of a wrought iron workbench.
Adult children may disown their parents for various reasons. Abuse is a common one. However, another is that it's simply the natural result of parents not paying attention to their children. The song "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin is a heartbreaking display of this. Another factor is the pernicious idea that "you can't be your child's friend." Guess what, if you aren't your child's friend then you will probably have NO relationship once they grow up, because after you lose your authority, friendship is all you have left. Fortunately some people understand that you can be both parent and friend, and there are ways to raise your children that provide a strong foundation for parent-adultchild friendships. Don't do a Howard! Know how to disown your dysfunctional family, and how to cope if your adult children abandon you.
mashfanficchick has thoughtfully observed: "You might be amused to know that, in the Avengers Academy mobile game (which takes place in what is essentially a college!AU), there is a part in which Tony decides to be a blacksmith. Needless to say, this fic was the first thing I thought of when my roommate (who plays the game) told me about this. Here are some screenshots my roommate took of how Tony decided to be a blacksmith: Odin warns Iron Man about dark elves, Tony decides to be a blacksmith, Tony dresses in a leather apron, and Tony decides to burn his shirts. And here is a screenshot she took--at my request, and with a great deal of difficulty!--of Tony forging a sword, which IMMEDIATELY made me think of Tony working in Master Tom's shop." I had no idea this game even existed when I wrote the story; I'm not into video games. But the parallels are cool!
~ MISSION ACCOMPLISHED ~
trope_bingo fest.This story belongs to the series Love Is For Children which includes "Love Is for Children," "Hairpins," "Blended," "Am I Not," "Eggshells," "Dolls and Guys,""Saudades," "Querencia," "Turnabout Is Fair Play," "Touching Moments," "Splash," "Coming Around," "Birthday Girl," "No Winter Lasts Forever," "Hide and Seek," "Kernel Error," "Happy Hour," "Green Eggs and Hulk,""kintsukuroi," "Little and Broken, but Still Good," "Up the Water Spout," "The Life of the Dead," "If They Could Just Stay Little," "Anahata," "When the Wheels Come Off," "Against His Own Shield," "Coming in from the Cold: Saturday: Building Towers," and "Coming in from the Cold: Sunday: Shaking Foundations," and "Coming in from the Cold: Monday: Memorial Day."
Fandom: The Avengers
Characters: Tony Stark, Howard Stark, Master Tom, Obadiah Stane, Master Ewan.
Medium: Fiction
Warnings: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting. Child abuse and neglect. Rebellion. Tony Stark's misspent youth. Brief references to underage drinking, sex, and other unwise activities. Obie. Because Obie Is Always a Warning.
Summary: According to canon, Tony Stark is a blacksmith. This is how that happened.
Notes: Craftsmanship. Competence. Gentleness. Trust. Creativity. Friendship.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
Here ends "What Little Boys Are Made Of." Thank you all for sticking with the series this far! I love your input. Final thoughts on the story overall are welcome, in addition to reactions on this specific chapter.
I also have a list of favorite photogenic scenes from the whole series for fanartists to consider, partly compiled from audience requests.
A note on feedback: While it's not necessary to comment on every post I make, remember that I don't know who reads/likes things if nobody says anything. Particularly on long stories, I've discovered that I get antsy if there's nothing but crickets chirping for several posts. So it helps to give me feedback at least once, even if it's just "I like this" or "This one doesn't grab me." First and last episodes are ideal if you rarely feel inspired to comment in the middle.
"What Little Boys Are Made Of" Part 4
[August 1, 1987]
Tony is sorting a new order of barstock into the cubbies and crates for storage. The long fine rods go into cubbies, almost like a mailroom wall, while the heavy ones go in crates like the ingots do. They're shipped in boxes that weigh up to fifty pounds, but Tony has to look at the labels to tell that. They all feel like feathers to him now.
Master Tom and Master Ewan lean against the wall, chatting quietly. Tony can still hear them. They're talking about him and Obie and Howard. Tony puts the barstock away very carefully so that he can make out the words.
"So this first chump shows up, just two weeks after I've hired the boy. Likes to think he's a big man," Master Tom says with a chuckle.
Master Ewan chews the stem of his pipe. "Trouble?"
"Oh he tried, he tried," Master Tom says. "Tony all quaking in his boots, and Mr. Chump trying to bribe me into pitching him out. Wrote me a check as wide as a Clydesdale's ass. But Tony wouldn't quit, so I sure wouldn't quit on him."
"What did you do with the check?" asks Master Ewan.
"Well, see ..." Master Tom scratches the side of his neck. "I had to shut the door in Mr. Chump's face, so Tony needed a scrap of paper to light the oil lamp with."
Master Ewan's laugh is a piercing YEE hee hee! like a billy goat bleating. Even Tony smiles where he is meticulously placing the new jewelry wire into the drawers of its little cabinet. "Any more trouble after that?" Master Ewan asks.
"Just a bit," says Master Tom. "Week later, this weaselly little creep shows up, claims to be Tony's father. Well la-di-da, look who's late to the party!"
Master Ewan leans over to spit on the floor. "Yep, I know the story," he says. "Last summer I had the same problem with my girl 'Prentice, you remember her."
"The one who wanted to become an armorer so people wouldn't keep trying to sell her boobplate?" Master Tom says with a grin. "Indeed I do. I heard she's going medieval, got herself a journeywoman job at Pennsic War this year. I don't doubt we'll be hearing great things about Tony in a year or two. So anyway, Mr. Weasel wanted to take Tony home."
Tony is trying very hard not to snicker out loud. Everyone in the world (except for Tony) wants to kiss Howard Stark's ass, and here's Master Tom calling him Mr. Weasel.
"I'm guessing that didn't go too well for Mr. Weasel," says Master Ewan.
Ha! Now there are two of them.
"I figured that Tony needed a chance to stand up for himself, and by that time he had enough muscle starting to make good on it," says master Tom. "So Mr. Weasel marched himself into my smithy, all fancy in his white shirt, and tried to drag Tony home. Only Tony wouldn't budge! That rich fart might as well have tried to pull up a hickory sapling with his bare hands."
YEE hee hee! goes Master Ewan. "Serves him right."
"Boy's got backbone, I'll give him that," says Master Tom. Then he raises his voice. "Hey, 'Prentice! You done putting away that shipment?"
"Yes, Master Tom," says Tony as he straightens up.
"Well, pull some of the shoeing iron back out. This morning I'm going to teach you how to shoe a pony. At least this way, when you get kicked, it's not liable to break bone," says Master Tom. "Then after lunch, Master Ewan's going to show you how to make a folding blade. Boy ought to have a decent pocketknife, I don't know what your father was thinking, letting you run around without one."
Howard hadn't been thinking about Tony at all, is what. But Tony is starting to care about that ... just a little less.
"Thank you, Master Tom," he says crisply as he selects the proper barstock.
* * *
[August 31, 1987]
By the end of summer, Tony has learned how to make all the tourist things: candleholders, rings and keychains, door knockers, hooks and handles, even simple lanterns. He can make both nails and horseshoes, and shoe the phlegmatic ponies from the pony ride. He has made enough tools for himself that he needs a toolbox for them, a handsome wooden thing bartered from the village carpenter.
Sometimes in the evenings, they gather with the other staff and sing or play musical instruments. Tony has a set of spoons that he made himself and is learning how to play. These fireside circles are pretty much the closest he's had to family, to friends, to community.
Tony knows that his time here is coming to an end. He knows, and he hates it. This summer has been a little island of peace and joy in a life that consists mainly of glitz, boredom, and fights with his father. If anything Tony is surprised that Howard has let it go on so long, but maybe he has more important things to worry about. In any case, classes will resume soon, and Tony has to go back to MIT. He does love the labs there ... but he'll miss the dim, grimy haven on the forge.
Maybe he'll build his own someday.
"Summer's almost over," Master Tom says thoughtfully.
"Yeah, I was thinking, maybe next year --" Tony begins.
"No, I told you back at the beginning, I take a new apprentice every year," Master Tom says, shaking his head. "You've already learned most of what I could teach you. The rest takes practice."
"Then ... what happens now?" Tony says. He tries not to let the disappointment show. "Are you firing me?"
"Now we see if you're fit to be a journeyman," says Master Tom. "Come here, and bring your tools. I want you to make a pair of twist-jaw tongs, a candle stand, and a brooch back."
Tony begins with the tongs. That is the most straightforward project, a test of strength, because the barstock for tools is stubborn stuff. He's built up a respectable amount of muscle over the summer, though. The hammer sings in his hands as he works.
When Tony offers the tongs for inspection, Master Tom nods approval. "Next, the candle stand," he says.
That one is a test of artistry. Tony decides to make something original. He twists together three slim bars as a frame, spreading them at the bottom to form feet and at the top to support the candle glass. He adds decorative chains trailing from the tips of the bars back down to the base. To hold the candle glass, he makes a cup of holly leaves, each thorn meticulously drawn out and sharpened. He feels proud of his work, but --
"I can't finish this with the supplies I have right here," Tony admits. "It needs a glass, because you said stand and not holder."
"Finish it," says Master Tom, holding out a round of dimpled crystal from the glassmaker's shop.
Tony takes the glass, carefully measuring it against the cup he has forged. It needs a little careful tweaking of the iron leaves, and then the glass sits perfectly in its place.
"Light it," says Master Tom. He hands over a beeswax votive candle.
Tony sets it into the glass. Then he unsheathes his survival knife and the flake of flint alongside it, deftly striking sparks onto the cotton wick. The candle flares to life.
"Well done," says Master Tom. "One last piece. Use the jewelry anvil, and you may borrow my fine tools."
This one makes Tony nervous, because it's a test of finesse. Jewelry is delicate stuff. It has to look beautiful as well as holding together, and it's easy to break. He works slowly, carefully, tapping out a flat round plate and making the lacy edge that will later hold the inset cabochon. Then he fashions a pin from wire and welds it onto the back.
"Now add this," says Master Tom. He gives Tony a cabochon of ceramic glazed with an anvil and the word Journeyman. "If you can set this without breaking anything, you're in."
Tony takes the cabochon, applies a dab of jewelry glue, and fits the ceramic in place. He tries to press the lace edge around it with his fingers. That's when he realizes the problem: he's strong enough, but his fingertips dent around the metal instead of bending it. If he uses the hammer, or even the wooden mallet, he might crack the cabochon. If he rolls the edge against the anvil, he might chip or scratch the fragile surface of the glaze.
Desperate, Tony looks around for inspiration -- and spies a scrap of leather in a box on the workbench. He wraps the leather around the brooch to protect it, then carefully rolls the edge against the anvil to fold the loops around the cabochon. When he opens the leather, the brooch gleams whole and perfect in the palm of his hand.
Tony passes it to Master Tom with a little bow. "Assignment complete, sir," he says.
Master Tom examines the brooch minutely. "Congratulations, Journeyman," he says, and pins it to Tony's shirt. "Don't forget the real meaning of this. It doesn't mean that you're done learning. It means that you need to go find other masters to learn from, because each of us can teach you different things. Blacksmithing is a grand profession. It built the foundation of the world we know. It can save lives, or end them. So you treat it with respect, and you go make me proud."
"Yes, sir," Tony says.
"And don't listen to your father, he's an idiot," says Master Tom.
Tony grins at him. "I never do."
* * *
[October 1, 1987]
In autumn, Tony settles back into MIT. He reads all the textbooks and then the recommended reading list. He does the homework as far ahead as the syllabi permit. He gets to know his new professors (casually) and the incoming freshmen (intimately). Tony finds graduate school slightly less boring than undergraduate school.
He also rents a garage off campus and uses it to create his own forge. It isn't much at first, but it's his, and he uses it to expand his set of blacksmithing tools. He even makes his own anvil to replace the one he bought. Tony loves creating things. He experiments with welding in new ways, even though he's been welding things for years. Somehow the blacksmithing gives him a fresh perspective on it. There are wild new ideas simmering in his mind.
Tony doesn't have an apprentice. Nobody sane wants to work with him, because admittedly, he's kind of a dick. So he can't just count on hiring help like Master Tom can. But he might be able to build some ...
The first thing Tony does with his freshly built wrought iron workbench is write a letter and a check. He arranges for an endowment for the historic village, to make sure it can continue without worrying about funds. He has more money than he knows what to do with anyway. He also establishes a scholarship for apprentices, so that nobody has to miss out on a terrific opportunity just because they can't afford a summer job that pays archaic-rate wages.
Tony routes the donation through a carefully constructed relay of cover accounts. He's not making this one for fame, like the galas his parents drag him to periodically. He suspects that Master Tom will figure it out anyway.
That done, Tony puts a few irons in the fire. While they heat, he begins making preliminary sketches in his notebook. This won't be a full build, not yet. He's just noodling around designs for now. Once he gets a model that he likes, then he can scale up using the major welding equipment. For now, Tony debates the merits of two, three, or four fingers while keeping an eye on the color temperature of his barstock.
The phone rings. He'd only installed the thing in case of emergency, and he hadn't given the number to anyone. So it had to be Howard. Grumbling, Tony answers the phone. "What do you want?"
Howard rambles something about charity and the mayor and music and several dates later in the month.
Tony listens with half an ear, the majority of his attention on the whirr of the fan and the merry chinkle of coals in the forge. He reaches out with his tongs and grasps a piece of barstock. The end glows a bright yellow.
"Uh huh, yeah, great, whatever. Listen, I have to go now. I've got something in the oven," Tony says. He hangs up.
Then he goes to work.
* * *
Notes:
Storytelling connects families and communities. It has many functions, including the way it helps people to cope with traumatic experiences. Here are some tips on family storytelling.
Apprenticeship is a way of learning a practical trade. A journeyman is fully trained, but hasn't yet learned the finer skills that lead to mastery. Depending on the craft, the amount of effort spent, and the talent of the student it can take anywhere from a few months to several years for an apprentice to become a journeyman. Tony's at the fast end of the scale.
Learn how to make twist-jaw tongs as in this picture.
Learn how to make a Gothic candle stand, like this one.
Learn how to make a brooch back, such as this. They may have a stone or ceramic insert. Vintage blacksmith emblems show a variety of tools used to symbolize the trade. These were used on signs, stamps, and badges.
Here are some general guidelines on how to forge things and projects.
This is one example of a wrought iron workbench.
Adult children may disown their parents for various reasons. Abuse is a common one. However, another is that it's simply the natural result of parents not paying attention to their children. The song "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin is a heartbreaking display of this. Another factor is the pernicious idea that "you can't be your child's friend." Guess what, if you aren't your child's friend then you will probably have NO relationship once they grow up, because after you lose your authority, friendship is all you have left. Fortunately some people understand that you can be both parent and friend, and there are ways to raise your children that provide a strong foundation for parent-adultchild friendships. Don't do a Howard! Know how to disown your dysfunctional family, and how to cope if your adult children abandon you.
mashfanficchick has thoughtfully observed: "You might be amused to know that, in the Avengers Academy mobile game (which takes place in what is essentially a college!AU), there is a part in which Tony decides to be a blacksmith. Needless to say, this fic was the first thing I thought of when my roommate (who plays the game) told me about this. Here are some screenshots my roommate took of how Tony decided to be a blacksmith: Odin warns Iron Man about dark elves, Tony decides to be a blacksmith, Tony dresses in a leather apron, and Tony decides to burn his shirts. And here is a screenshot she took--at my request, and with a great deal of difficulty!--of Tony forging a sword, which IMMEDIATELY made me think of Tony working in Master Tom's shop." I had no idea this game even existed when I wrote the story; I'm not into video games. But the parallels are cool! ~ MISSION ACCOMPLISHED ~
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Date: 2016-04-08 03:06 pm (UTC)I'm glad he had Master Tom looking out for him.
Also, the bit about setting the ceramic cabochon was lovely. The leather was a good thought, and it's how a lot of people do it. (My personal favorite method involves a wooden setting tool, which is unlikely to scratch or crack any but the softest of stones. Those are a challenge no matter what you do.)
Thank you!
Date: 2016-04-08 10:09 pm (UTC)Yay!
>> The sense of fulfillment in this one is a delightful shift from how we see Tony later on <<
I wanted to show that his life has had ups and downs. Finding helpful people and learning new skills are upsides. But things have a tendency to interfere, and then Tony is left to his own devices and does things like get drunk and make a baby robot.
>> and helps with both his blacksmith-in-a-cave scenes and why his garage is still his haven. <<
\o/
>> I'm glad he had Master Tom looking out for him. <<
Sooth. Tony needed the support.
>> Also, the bit about setting the ceramic cabochon was lovely. The leather was a good thought, and it's how a lot of people do it. <<
I'm glad that worked.
>> (My personal favorite method involves a wooden setting tool, which is unlikely to scratch or crack any but the softest of stones. Those are a challenge no matter what you do.) <<
A good choice for durable to moderate stones, or thickly glazed ceramic. Thinly glazed ceramic is delicate, and painted even more so. And porcelain, which is popular in some types of jewelry due to its translucent quality, is a real pain in the ass at any stage of development.
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2016-04-11 03:27 pm (UTC)Yeah. I've done some work with fossil ivories, which are my favorite materials ever - and even those are more durable than porcelain or painted ceramic.
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2016-04-11 05:38 pm (UTC)