Thorra
Thorra felt the grit of travel falling off of her; the weariness of the journey evaporating. She felt comforted by the song. "Ahh~ Never felt---anything like this before. I like the gentle healing of your song almost as much as the warmth of the forge and the beating of the hammer..."
LirazelLirazel pressed one of her fingers to her lips, and made a silent 'shhh' motion. Yet if provoked by the word 'almost,' the princess then insisted on increasing the tempo of her song, focusing the warmth of the sunlight pouring down through the ceiling upon her flameless workspace, and allowed Thorra to experience some of that warmth she'd desired. Deeper tarnishes she'd scarcely given thought to from her short years of battle, the stains of Titan's blood and more, flaked off with the passing of the highborne songstress' nails. Her voice was unwavering, and her golden hair gleamed in the softly burning light. If the heat bothered her or blistered her fingers, Lirazel did nothing to give that away.
Little save the faintest hint of sweat on her brow which threatened to drip on the hammer's head.
Seconds passed into minutes, into a dozen minutes, into losing track of time while Lirazel sought her guest's grand renewal. Turning over, left and right, up and down, handling her with the utmost tender care. Her voice relented only once, with a mysterious smile, while she worked magic with a nearby harp instead. Even the wrappings of Thorra's handle began to recover from the fraying of constant use. The princess' face was red, her breathing heavy, while each note of her instrument echoed with a intimate acoustic resonance.