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Dammon wiped the sweat from his brow with a rag he kept tucked into his apron. He should be used to the heat of the forge, but this… This was different.
She had walked in just a few days ago, surrounded by a strange group of companions, still caked in goblin blood from protecting the gates outside. He knew right away she wasn’t from Elturel, there was a glow about her. Not the kind one might describe as “love at first sight”, or after a day at a bathing pool. This was the glow of the hells themselves, the infernal heat radiating from her even as they stood several paces apart.
Karlach.
He turned her name over in his mind as he brought his hammer down again on the iron, hoping against all odds that it might buy her a few more days. She was a conundrum, and not just with the mechanical heart that fuelled her. If one were to judge by appearance alone, they might assume that she was a devil. Crimson skin marked by a tapestry of scars, piercings, and tattoos, clothes barely held together around tough muscles, her head crowned by one broken horn and a shock of red and black hair.
But as soon as she spoke? That fiery heat from her felt like warmth, the kindness of a friend, the smile of an angel descended to save all of the Elturel refugees from losing the last of their number to yet more pointless war.
The echoes of the promise he made to her lingered in his mind. “It’ll allow you to touch whomever you please.”
Dammon sighed. Focus, he chided himself, she needs you, you cannot let her down.
—
Karlach paced nervously around the refugee camp, the sound of infernal iron being pressed into shape echoing from the other side of the grove where her friends were…well, she didn’t much care for what kind of trouble they were getting into. Nothing else mattered. She might have a chance to feel real contact with someone, to not see them pull away in fear and pain from getting within a few inches.
She flinched at the memory, how the blacksmith had brought his ear close to her chest to listen to that bloody infernal engine that Zariel had stuck in her. Bitch. She wanted the ground itself to swallow her up when he pulled back, the pointed tip of his ear reddened by the slight burn. My bloody fault, too, she reprimanded herself, the moment one pretty face comes close I start to lose it.
And he was. Pretty, that is. Bright blue eyes that reminded her or the stars themselves, skin a warm peach hue coloured a little pinker by the heat of his forge. It was the forge, wasn’t it? Her tail flicked behind her, kicking up a little cloud of dust. Forget it, soldier, there’s no point. You have a bloody tadpole in your brain that might turn you into a squid, not to mention this stupid engine trying to kill you every time you think about anything so much as holding hands…
“Karlach?” Tav’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you alright?”
“Don’t worry about me, soldier!” She put the usual bravado into her words, even as her fists clenched by her sides. “Just point me to the fight and I’ll be right in the fray!”
“No, darling, no fights just yet.” Astarion shrugged, his casual tone bringing her back to what they were actually doing as she watched him pocket the change from the merchant.
“Well, it is early,” Gale added, “I’m sure we can squeeze in a bit of mortal peril before dinner.”
“Optimism…” Tav sighed, handing Karlach a couple of potions of healing. “Here, in case they’re right.”
“Thanks, soldier!” she beamed, tucking the vials in her pack. But her smile started to lose the battle with the rising anxiety now. “Do…do you think he’s done? With my…”
“Well there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? Shall we?” Astarion almost went to link arms with her to lead her back to the forge, but stopped at the last moment with an apologetic shrug. “Ah, sorry…”
—
“You’ll have to install it, I’m afraid.” He handed over the upgrade carefully, watching as Karlach’s expression went through several flickering phases of hope, fear, excitement, and a myriad of other emotions too complex to name. He could only hope he had done enough for now.
“That feels…” She paused, and Dammon forgot how to breathe. “...Good!”
Her smile lit up the cavern brighter than any forge flames. He wasn’t sure he heard the rest of her thanks, feeling the immense wave of relief and a weight heavier than the iron itself lifting from his shoulders, but it was soon replaced by a new one.
Karlach almost wanted to stop the blacksmith as the frown returned to his gentle features, already talking - mostly to himself now - about other ideas on how he might cool her engine further. It was…sweet, feeling someone genuinely worried about her. She wasn’t even sure what to do with that.
“Can’t you just, come with us?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. “We have a camp, and there’s a supply chest, and alright we don’t have a forge there but we can make a pretty big fire!”
Tav laid a gloved hand on her shoulder, not minding the slight scent of burning leather from her excitement. “Karlach…”
“Please, soldier? I won’t ask you for anything else- Well maybe some more of that iron if we find it, and a chance to hit something really hard, and-” She was already talking a mile a minute, but stopped when she saw Dammon shaking his head with a smile.
“I can’t, I’m sorry. I need to stay with our group here, they need steel to keep them safe, and I can’t carry my equipment all across the Sword Coast by myself. I’m no soldier, and the places you’ll go are not safe for a simple smith.” For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out to her, but instead he busied his hands going through his apron pockets. “Here, take this. It’s a good luck charm.”
“Dammon, it’s-” she started, with a wide smile that quickly changed to confusion, “it’s a nail? And a bent one, too. Is…is that what it is? I don’t really know about smithing, I’m better at hitting people than anvils. ”
“That’s the first nail I ever tried to make.” He smiled, a far off look in his eyes. “When I was an apprentice in Elturel, it took me hours and hours to get it right. Then the moment I tried to put up my own nameplate above the door? I sneezed and hit it at the wrong angle, bent it completely.” He pulled the glove from his left hand and pointed at a small scar on his thumb. “Got myself pretty good, too.”
Karlach paused, tilting her head slightly as she examined both the small between her fingers and the Tiefling stood before her.
“Keep it with you, maybe it’ll bring you more luck than it has me in these last few years. Although, perhaps my luck is changing after all…” His voice was almost too quiet to hear as he mumbled the second line before clearing his throat. “Come and find me in Baldur’s Gate, bring me any more infernal iron you can find. I will keep working on some ideas to keep that heart of yours going.”
“Dammon, this is lovely, really it is, but I can’t keep it! It’s important to you, you should have it when you get to the city, make it a part of your new home.” She held the little trinket back out towards him, though she was loathe to let go of the first real gift she had ever received.
“Consider it a promise then. That you’ll keep it safe for me until we meet again. I will find a way to help you, Karlach. Be careful.” He took a moment to reconsider who he was talking to, the barbarian hardly seemed like the careful type. “Or at least just stay alive.”
“Thank you, Dammon.” She blinked back the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “I’ll bring it back to you. Maybe I can help you hang the sign above your new shop in the city? I can reach pretty high.”
“I’d like that.” He began to turn away, before quickly looking back to the others as if remembering they were there at all. “I hope you’ll all be back again too. Maybe I’ll even have some new weapons for you next time we meet.”
—
“What does it mean ?” Karlach sat by the campfire, turning the little trinket over and over between her fingers as if there were some kind of hidden message she might divine from the metal.
“I think,” Gale began, “it means you have a friend . Well, other than us, of course.”
“No…yes? Does it?” She looked up, eyes full of hope and concern. “Should we even be friends? I mean if he’s right, my stupid heart might not even make it to the city…back home …”
“Darling we are all allowed a little fun where we can find it, stop thinking so hard and enjoy it.” Astarion’s playful tone joined the conversation as he sat down with Tav opposite the others, the latter looking a little paler than they had earlier that day.
“Playing with your food again? Who even raised you?” Gale chided the vampire, earning a quiet laugh from Wyll who was seated beside the tiefling.
“They are right, Karlach. You’re not truly a devil, and you spent more than long enough in the hells fighting someone else’s war. Maybe it’s time you found your reason to fight.” The warlock passed her the wine they were sharing around the campfire before taking a long sip from his own glass.
“Easy for you to say, you’ve got you whole I’m fighting for the good of the people thing going on, Mr Blade of the Frontiers. When was the last time you did something for yourself ?” Karlach nudged him in the ribs.
“Alright, touche. I withdraw my blade.” He hid behind his glass further as he noticed Lae’zel eyeing him from the other side of the fire.
“I’ll try, then.” She decided, more to herself than anyone else. “Now, how about we at least try to get a good night’s sleep? I don’t think those goblins are going to give us the same warm welcome as the druids did.”
“Agreed.” Tav nodded, already standing to prepare the bedrolls. “We need to see if the Archdruid can take care of the tadpoles so we even have a future to plan for.”
“Bloody worm,” Karlach muttered, downing her share of the wine in a quick swig. “Just when I thought I’d earned a little freedom, too…”
—
It was several weeks before the group came stumbling into the protective barrier at Last Light Inn. At first, Dammon panicked, seeing how much blood covered them all, but he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw they were all in one piece. He shuffled through the diagrams, rubbing the fatigue from endless sleepless nights of planning, reading, and sketching blueprints in the almost permanent darkness that covered the land.
“Dammon? Is that you?” Karlach almost bounded up to him a spring in her step as she approached. “I’m so glad you made it! You did make it, didn’t you? This isn’t just some horrible shadow cursed vision?”
He laughed, suddenly feeling more awake than he had in days. “I’m quite real, Karlach. No visions here, the barrier is safe, and there’s rooms in the Inn for all of you too.” His smile dropped a little, replaced by subtle worry lines. “And your heart? Are you…?”
“Still going strong!” She patted her glowing ribs with her fist. “Thanks to you, that is. And we have more iron, too!” She saw his face fall a little, before trying to return her smile. “That’s a good thing, right? Please tell me there’s good news.”
The next few minutes passed with an entire mix of emotions. The worry for what the other refugees had been through, the relief that at least some of them were safe, and then there was her heart… It was difficult to stay patient while he explained, to wait while he went to work with his tools at the forge, but she held on to hope.
Dammon worked the metal carefully but swiftly, impatient to know if the designs would hold up to the test and give Karlach the freedom she so desperately desired. He was glad that none of them could see his face while he worked. It was…bittersweet. She might finally be happy, but it wouldn’t last… Nothing ever did, it seemed. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth it to see her face light up with a smile so bright the shadowcurse itself seemed to shrink back from the land as he handed over the new piece.
It was the matter of a few moments to fix it in place, the sensations washing through her like the currents of a cool river. Soothing, cooling, bringing the burning down. When he offered his hand to touch, she still hesitated. Despite how it felt, she was still scared. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her heart to just stay quite for one bloody minute-
The moment they touched, she realised it was safe. There was no burning, no cry of pain, all she could see on his face was a mixture of pride and happiness that made his eyes seem even brighter as they sparkled like pale gems. She held her breath as their fingers interlaced, pausing in the moment and wishing it might last another hour.
By the time they were walking away, she wasn’t entirely sure why her cheeks were becoming damp with tears. Finally , after so very long she could feel human touch. She could be close to someone without burning them to ash, she could express her affection for her friends without hurting them, she could…the possibilities were endless. But it came at a cost. Everything always bloody does, she thought to herself, sniffling a little as she tried in vain to hold back the tide of emotion. I’m not going back, I can’t go back to Avernus… Not after this, not now I have something worth living for in this realm. Fucking Zariel… Gods… Fucking… Fuck it.
“Soldier? I know you’re tired but I really need to hit something. I’m going to go and beat up a few shadow bastards.” She wiped at her burning eyes with the back of her hand.
“I’ll go with her,” Wyll offered, already following the Tiefling as her tail dragged in the dust. “We’ll be back before… Before whatever passes for night out here.”
—
Dammon sat back on the edge of his desk as he watched the party walk away. He wished there was more he could do, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He knew, just from the look in her eyes, that she would rather die than return to Avernus, but that… It didn’t seem fair. She had barely escaped the cursed place, just like he and the other Elturel refugees had done. He was in no hurry to return either, even if it was all that was left of his home, it wasn’t a home any more. The once beautiful and lively city was now just another battleground in the never-ending Blood War.
He sighed heavily and tucked a stray strand of hair back behind his horn. There has to be something else… Someone in the city will have answers. Karlach, and her friends, they’ll make the road safe again, I’m sure of that, so I will have to make sure there’s light at the end of it for her too.
—
“Karlach, stop. That’s enough.” Wyll laid a hand on her shoulder, the barbarian’s rage still seething as she gripped her axe, breathing heavily and bathed in blood. “You can’t murder your way through the entire Shadowlands in one night - you have to rest.”
“I can’t, Wyll. Every time I close my eyes I’m going to see that bloody place again, smell the sulphur in the air, the fire trying to burn me alive… I want to be here , to stay here , to go back to my bloody home- ” her shoulders began to shake from the sobs that escaped her.
“I know… I don’t even know if I can return home either. It’s not like my father is going to welcome me back home with open arms, even if we can rescue him from the Absolute. But we have to keep trying , our friends are relying on us. All of the Tieflings here need us to get them safely to Baldur’s Gate. Home, Karlach, no matter what happens when we get there.” He stepped carefully around her to look her in the eye, passing her a small embroidered handkerchief. “We are all still alive, for now, so let’s try and keep it that way.”
“Why do you have to be so bloody nice to me,” she sobbed, “you spent years chasing me, and even now your choice to keep me alive changed you…”
“Some friends are worth changing for.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. “And that’s what you are, Karlach. I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were in Avernus, but I’m not letting you go back if you don’t want to. And if you do want to go back…you won’t be going alone.”
“You wouldn’t,” she sniffled, “you’re barely even back to the city you gave everything up to protect.”
“I have a feeling the city will have some new protectors soon, far less foolish than a man who sold his soul to a devil.”
“Not your fault.” Karlach stepped back, looking him in the eye as she spoke. “Fucking Mizora. Fucking Zariel. Is there nothing they won’t take from us?”
“There are some things still out of their reach.” He glanced at her hand, then tilted his head back in the direction of the Last Light Inn. “You want to hold his hand again, don’t you?”
She nodded quietly. “I do…gods I do. He’s the first person I have touched in…I don’t want to count. I’d run out of fingers.”
"He's just like you, you know." Wyll mused, with a slight smile. "The heat of the hells have not burned away his kindness, neither has the anvil hardened his heart."
"Such a bloody poet, have you ever considered being a bard?" She smiled, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. “Oh, shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I’d got blood on my face as well.”
“It doesn’t matter, keep it. And remember you have someone on your side now. Let’s get back, I’ll have Gale mix you up a sleep potion so you can get some proper rest. Don’t start relying on them, though, but I think we can make an exception for now.”
“Thank you, Wyll…” She took a deep breath to steady herself before straightening up and slinging her axe over her shoulder. “Let’s go get drunk first, though. I’m sure I saw a good few bottles of rancid wine that nobody will miss.”
—
So many days had passed that Dammon was starting to worry. The shop was good enough for now, being back at a proper furnace did his heart good to focus on something other than the lingering ghost of fingers that laced between his own. Soft, hesitant, but not lacking the warm strength that emanated from her at all times.
He turned the axe on the grinding wheel, careful to sharpen the edge without weakening the steel. He tested the heft for the tenth time in as many hours, the red and black leather bound handle just a little too big for his grip to be comfortable, but he knew it would fit her hand perfectly.
“Just have a little hope.” His parting words to Karlach when they’d left for the fight at Moonrise Towers had also been for his own benefit. As much as he believed in her, trusted in the strength of his own handiwork to hold out, each new dawn was darker without seeing her smile.
This is silly, he chided himself, we’ve met only a handful of times, and she is surrounded by companions who care for her. Why would she care about a blacksmith merchant?... Why can I not stop thinking about her either?
He turned his attention back to the axe, wincing as he caught his finger on the sharpened edge.
And now I’m being as careless as a novice…
Dammon hung the axe safely on a hook on the far wall before pressing a scrap of clean cloth and some salve to the cut.
Maybe I just need to hit something, that’ll make me feel better.
—
By the time they arrived in the city, Karlach was exhausted. For once she even felt like she had burned off all her energy for hitting things. That was new… It took even longer to reach the lower city. She found herself looking at the shadow every passing tiefling with hope, reaching into her pocket to hold the small bent nail that she kept close at all times…but still she hadn’t found him again.
When she heard the sound of a hammer on iron echoing down the street, she stopped in her tracks, worrying her mechanical heart might have finally given up.
“I think it’s about time we went for a shopping spree, don’t you?” Gale nudged Tav with a wink.
“Hmm? Oh! Right, I’ve got a few old blades to sell, and we could do with some fresh oils too.” They turned to the others.
“Darling, I’m desperate to get some fresh boots, I can feel every stone through these ones now. If only there were someone strong enough to carry me~” Astarion made a full show of draping himself over Halsin who only grinned.
“You can carry yourself, for now. As for later- ”
“Oh get a room already!” Their antics broke Karlach out of her momentary silence, the mock outrage drawing a chuckle from Wyll and Lae’zel behind her. Truth be told, she was happy to see the two of them so close with Tav, after everything they’d been through this week…well, they had more than earned it.
“We have one, remember?” Tav stuck their tongue out, returning the mockery in kind.
“Have you considered getting a different room?” Shadowheart interjected. “Preferably one with thicker walls.”
—
The blacksmith barely heard the voices over his hammer as he brought it down over and over on the heated metal, sparks flying as he tried to bend it to his will. He wasn’t even certain what it was meant to be, other than a diversion for the building stress. Maybe a pan, you can never have too much cookware…can you?
“Dammon?!” Karlach’s yell preceded the heavy thumps of her feet as she sprinted and hopped over the low wall into the forge. She could’ve easily walked around, like the rest of her companions did, but she didn’t want to take a single step longer to reach her destination.
“Karlach?- Slow down!” He quickly threw the misshapen chunk of metal into the cooling trough, the loud hiss of steam still doing little to cover the volume of the barbarian’s joyful voice.
“Dammon! It’s so good to see you! And you’ve got a shop all set up and ready?” She looked almost sad for a moment. “I didn’t even get to help hang your sign.”
“It’s…temporary, really.” He shrugged with a smile. “It’s good to see you again though. Is everyone alright?”
“More than alright!” She ignored half of the question, momentarily entirely forgetting the group of companions behind her who were busying themselves being overly interested in some very basic daggers that were laid out for sale. “So what are you working on? Anything fun?”
Dammon wiped his hands on his apron and glanced down at the lump of steel in the water to his side. “That? Just a bit of practice. Can’t get rusty now, can I?”
“Rust! Hah! That’s a good one! Can’t imagine you need much practice though, you already fixed up my heart!” She laughed, the joy bubbling up from her and filling the lonely forge with a whole new warmth.
“You know it won’t-”
“It won’t last forever, I know. Let me just pretend it will? Just for a little while?”
“Alright.” He relented for now, unwilling to see the smile fall from her face again. “I did make something for you, but I’m not certain you’ll like it.”
“What? No! You didn’t! You shouldn’t have!” She was almost bouncing on her heels with glee as the blacksmith walked over to where the axe was safely stored on the back wall, handing it over to her carefully.
“There’s runes in the handle, and magic in the blade. I had a little help from a contact to make sure it would be strong enough to stand up to anything you have to face. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt handling something that wasn’t up to the task.” He felt a hint of a blush rise to the tips of his ears as their hands touched.
Karlach lifted the axe easily, testing the balance and giving it a few test swings, examining every inch of the grip and the blade. “Dammon it’s… It’s beautiful. You’re bloody beautiful!” She let her excitement slip a little further than she intended, wondering if her own cheeks could get any redder than their usual crimson tone. “How much do you want for it? We’ve been saving up, and-”
“Karlach, it’s a gift. It’s yours.” He smiled, watching her expression go through the usual mixture of emotions. It seemed she never could hide her feelings, it was…adorable.
“No! You can’t - this must have cost a bloody fortune just in the materials! You have to let me give you something for it?” She searched his face for a response, finding herself instead lost in the warm but piercing gaze that always seemed to draw her in.
“Hope.” He said simply.
“Hope? Dammon you can’t pay your rent with hope , you can’t even buy half a mouldy sandwich with hope.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the concept, but he remained resolute.
“Just keep hope, and stay alive. That’s all. I’d consider your smile payment enough, anyway.”
Karlach carefully leaned the axe on the wall behind her before pulling the smith into a tight embrace. For a moment he seemed unsure of what to do with his arms. After the brief pause to process what was happening, he wrapped them around her and returned the hug, albeit with slightly less force. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” Her voice was quiet against his shoulder, a slight hint of sadness creeping into her tone that nearly broke his heart in two.
“You are worth far more than the way the world has treated you, Karlach. If I were the bard writing your ballad, I’d make sure you get your happily ever after.” He squeezed a little tighter, listening for a moment to her mechanical heart.
Good, still beating… We have time.
—
Over the next week, Karlach made every excuse she could to carry armfuls of weapons from dead foes to sell to the blacksmith, spending what time she could ensuring he took proper breaks from the fire of the forge. The few times he wasn’t there, she worried endlessly, about ready to go on the rampage if anyone had hurt even a single hair on his head. Wyll held her back every time, reminding her that even someone as dedicated to his work as Dammon was should have a day off.
Meanwhile, the smith was making every contact he could, ear to the ground for any possible lead. He would’ve considered making a deal with a fiend just to ensure her safety, but luckily he didn’t have to…
—
It was late one evening when Karlach went down to the forge, happy to still hear the clang of the hammer as she cradled the bottle under her arm carefully. It was the most expensive wine she could buy in the city, Wyll had helped her pick it out from the merchant, assuring her that it was one of the good ones and not just a high priced vinegar.
“Isn’t it a bit late to be wandering around out here?” Dammon put down the hammer and tongs, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Isn’t it a bit late to be smacking metal around?” She quipped back with a grin.
“Alright, you’ve got me there,” he shrugged, pulling up a second chair beside the small table. “To what do I owe the honour of your visit, then?”
Karlach sat down heavily next to him, avoiding his gaze as she tried to find the words. “Well…this is it. Tomorrow, we’re…going to put an end to all this. To make the city safe for you. For everyone. It’s…gods, it’s all going to finally be over.”
He laid his hand on her arm, feeling the tension and worry in her muscles refusing to ease. “Then why aren’t we celebrating? You brought wine, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she relented, placing the bottle on the table and waiting as he went to get their usual glasses. “Isn’t it bad luck though, to celebrate before we’ve even won?”
Dammon sat back beside her, uncorking the wine and pouring it out. “Then rather than drinking to battle, let’s drink to what comes after.”
“That’s very sweet, but I don’t think I have any after. I know by the way you’ve been looking at me, this thing in me… I don’t have much longer, do I?” Her gaze fell to her drink, as if there might be an answer at the bottom of the glass.
“You don’t have a lot of time,” he laid a hand on her cheek, gently guiding her to look him in the eyes before he continued, “not on this plane.”
“Dammon, I can’t… I can’t go back to Avernus. Not even for you.” She sighed, feeling the tears stinging at her eyes for the fourth time that week. She thought about it every night - all she would have to lose, seeing no other option but to-
“Hope.” He broke her train of thought with a single word. “Remember I told you to keep hope? As it turns out, that was an ironic choice of words.”
She stayed quiet this time, trying to divine the meaning between the lines. He may have quite literally held her heart in his hands before, but now…it was entirely different and yet exactly the same.
“I’ve been working on gathering everything we need. I spoke to Wyll, and he agreed too.” Dammon smiled, trying to find the words to express everything that he meant. “We have made a permanent doorway to the House of Hope. It’s in Avernus, yes, but it’s out of Zariel’s reach, and anyone can visit us at any time. If we stay there long enough, you might even be able to visit the city with me once every few months without risking your machinery. Maybe even in time we can find a more permanent solution, so you can move back home-”
Karlach’s glass felt to the floor, forgotten wine splashing onto the stone. “You…that’s… Is it really possible?”
“It should be. Hope is still working on cleaning up over there, after everything that happened when your friends visited. It’s not perfect, but-” he nearly fell off his seat as she threw her arms around him.
“Yes it is, it is bloody perfect! I’ll spend a hundred hours scrubbing those stupid floors if I get to stay alive and…and…” She paused, going back over his words. “You said we. If we stay there.”
He eased her grip on him a little and pulled back to look her in the eye. “I did. I’m coming with you. I can work here in the day if I need to, bring back whatever you want, all you need to do is ask.”
“You’d really go back to Avernus? After everything you had to do to leave?” The tears streamed down her face in sparkling rivers now, the possibilities she hadn’t even dared to dream of for so long.
“Just come back safe tomorrow, Karlach. I’d follow you through all nine hells if I had to.” He paused to dry her cheek with his thumb.
“I’d rather we don’t, really, but that’s very sweet of you.” Her face lit up, the brightness of it all affirming everything Dammon had already decided, only a hint of worry left in her eyes ready to be banished. “Isn’t this your home though?”
The smith laid a hand carefully over her chest, feeling the warmth and slight rumble of the machinery beneath.
“Home,” he smiled, “is where the heart is. And you’ve been carrying mine for a long time already.”