The Making Of The Chain

Forge Master

Rating:       NC-17.  NOT for minors.  Rating for consensual sex.
Warning:   Not for minors.  
Disclaimer: Lucas and Lucasfilm own the characters.  This is for fun, not profit.
Summary:  A worker of metals has been asked to create a chain, with special powers.
Initial posting: On dmeb.

The Making Of The Chain.

The market hall is bustling with people, most of them crowded into the half which is set aside for the food and produce stalls, but the other half of the hall, with its crafts and clothing sellers is still busy. In the corner of the craft area, between a cubicle selling rings, pendants and brooches, and one selling leather belts, pouches, bags and boots is a cubicle selling small hand knives. In the middle of the display of steel knives, looking out of place, is a coil of fine gold coloured chain. 

A pair of visitors has just entered the small display cubicle. One visitor, small and stocky, is wearing a leather tunic and breeches made from a cloth that possibly once was blue or brown.. Its colour now is simply dark. The other is much taller, and is dressed in a long woollen jerkin and leather trousers. Both give the appearance of having avoided the bathtub and laundry for several days. 

They inspect the knives on display, feeling each one for balance and sharpness. The knives are all of the finest quality and clearly the work of a master at the craft. They are all one piece knives, each one with both blade and handle forged from a single bar of bright stainless steel. The handles have been given a brushed satin-like finish, but the blades are polished to make them much more reflective. 

Most of the knives have plain blades but a few of them have been decorated with a delicate gold runic pattern. 

All the blades have a small design lightly stamped into the surface near the handle. This is a picture of a simple anvil, with the words “ars vulcanis” underneath it. 

The visitors make appreciative noises as they inspect each knife, passing them from one to the other. 

“The edges are keen,” says one, licking blood from a fresh, clean cut at the end of his thumb. “They have been ground to a razor finish. Even you would have no problem shaving with these. If you ever got round to shaving.” 

They are clearly impressed by the design and workmanship but show no sign of making a purchase. Then their attention passes to the odd and incongruous item in the display. 

The smaller visitor picks up the chain and peers closely at it, examining the fine links which are interconnected to make up the chain. Each link is made of a dense yellow coloured metal which reflects the bright lamp light over the display like a perfect mirror. The visitor holding the chain, moves it out of the light and it seems to glow with a soft rich luminance of its own. When he covers the chain with the sleeve of his tunic, it gives off no light into the darkness. 

He holds the chain in his outstretched arms and stretches his arms as far as he can to either side to find out the length of the chain. It is just as long as his full arm span when it is taut. As he closes his arms, the chain coils itself in his right hand. 

He passes it to his much taller companion, who weighs the chain in the palm of his hand. It seems strangely light for its length although as he raises the first link to examine it closely, the individual link seems quite heavy. He stretches it out to its full length. He has to open his arms to their full extent to pull it taut. He releases the end of the chain from his left hand, and the chain coils itself up into the palm of his other hand. 

 He throws the chain back to his companion who tries to catch it, but he fumbles and the chain brushes his hand. It slides over his skin and wraps itself around his wrist. He is startled and grabs at the chain with his other hand and tries to pull it free. The harder he tugs at it, the firmer it seems to grip and he becomes agitated. His friend tries to help him but as he tugs at the chain , it starts to uncoil partly from his friend  but then starts to wrap itself around his own wrist, so that they are both now gripped by the chain. 

Soon the two of them are desperately struggling to free themselves but the more they struggle, the more the chain seems to entangle them. It wraps itself further along their arm, drawing the two men closer and closer together in a tight embrace. 

By now, the chain seems to have doubled in length and is sliding over their arms so that they are both tightly locked together. 

All this time, a figure in a long dark blue cloak, has been standing in the shadows at the back of the cubicle, watching their actions. He has become more and more amused as the tangle of arms and chain has grown more complex and the two men become more intimate in their enforced embrace. Their struggles become more frenetic and their breathing more laboured and panic stricken. He steps out of the shadows and quietly moves towards them. 

The blue cloaked figure stretches out his left hand and rests it gently on the shoulder of one of the strugglers who is instantly stilled. Blue-cloak takes the end of the chain in his right hand and gently withdraws his hand. The chain slides softly over skin as it unwinds from their wrists and arms and coils itself up in the palm of the cloaked figure like a dedicated pet snake returning to its companion. 

“I take it that you are not interested in purchasing my chain?”  The voice of the figure in the long cloak is of a male, it sounds rich in experience and authority. 

The two, looking dishevelled and embarrassed, mumble something incoherent and hurriedly depart. 

Blue-cloak smiles and runs the chain through his fingers before he carefully puts it back on the display table. As he is looking down at the table, another customer silently enters the cubicle. As blue cloak finishes arranging the chain, he sees the sturdy black boots of the customer. He raises his eyes and takes in the hooded figure. 

“I’ve been expecting you.” 

Without speaking, the hooded customer points at the chain, which seems to tremble slightly. 

Blue-cloak takes a paper scroll from inside his cloak, unrolls it, and places it on a space on the display table. 

“I will first need your mark here,” he says to the hooded customer. 

An arm stretches out, then the other to remove the black leather glove from the left hand and a finger is extended and pressed on to the paper scroll. 

The finger is raised, leaving behind a mark embossed in the paper. As the glove is replaced, blue cloak can clearly see the red and black pattern on the customer’s hand. 

Blue-cloak rolls up the scroll and waves his hand over the chain. 

“It is now yours alone,” he says and the chain seems to stir itself and leap the small gap between the display table and the outstretched gloved hand of the customer. It coils itself into the palm of his gloved hand as though settling into its favourite resting place. 

The hooded figure turns and leaves as silently as he had arrived.

***** 

It is several days before the market. The chain is not yet made. The workshop is not brightly lit, the only light coming from a round globe suspended from one of the central roof beams by a steel chain. There is a perfectly shaped flame dancing and swaying in the centre of the globe. The flame is constant and does not flicker, giving out a steady light. There is no sign of a wick or fuel feeding the flame. 

There are no windows in the walls of the workshop. Most of the wall surfaces are covered with cupboards and shelves. In the few spaces without these furnishings, the dark coloured wooden planks which make up the walls can be seen. In the middle of one of the walls there is a heavy drape hanging over what seems to be a doorway. Most of the cupboards are closed but occasionally, there is a partly open door which reveals glimpses of boxes, jars and bowls stacked inside. 

Some of the shelves are filled with tightly packed rows of books. Others have glass bottles and jars containing liquids, crystals and powders of many different colours. The containers are all labelled but the light is dim at the edges of the room and does not allow the labels to be read. 

 At the end of the room opposite to the doorway, a chimney hood descends from the roof space. It is fixed over a workbench that has a very thick top and seems to be made from the same wood as the walls. It shows the scars of frequent hot spots. There are clamps and vices and a small hand sized device that looks like some form of flame-thrower. At the end of the bench is a small flat square slab made of some kind of glazed white ceramic and standing on it is a shiny black crucible. 

In the centre of the room directly under the globe light there is another large bench. The top of this one is also made of thick wood but this one is much lighter in colour than the other one. It shows no sign of heat marks but has a clean polished surface. The top of the workbench overhangs the supports. At several points under the worktop in the overhang, there are loops made of a dull yellow metal.

***** 

The blue cloaked figure is sitting on a wooden stool at his work bench in the workshop. He has a wooden tray in front of him, which contains several steel knives. They look as if they are almost finished. They have clean satin finished handles but the blades are not yet polished. 

The magician’s apprentice is standing beside him watching what he is doing. 

He is holding a small hammer in his right hand and there is a knife lying flat in a recess on a polished steel block. The recess exactly matches the contours of the knife. 

He is using a die to stamp his maker’s mark on the blade of the knife, near the handle. 

"I must never let this out of my possession," he is telling the apprentice. "The punishment for anyone who is not a Vulcan Master, found using a maker's die like this, is dire indeed. The penalty for losing this die or letting it fall into the hands of another is even more extreme." 

He carefully positions the die stamp on the knife blade in front of him. He brings the hammer down on to the die with a single clean, firm stoke. The blade gives out a clear ring as it is struck by the die. 

"If you are discovered using a die like this, you will have your working hand stamped with it, just as I am stamping this blade. The blade will be even better for having this stamp upon it. Your hand would not survive the experience." 

The apprentice looks quickly at her hand and withdraws it into her cloak. 

"As you have discovered already, there are many rules to follow, oaths to swear and tasks to be done, on your journey through the Vulcan mysteries. Only those who have reached the end of this road are entitled to use this stamp.” 

“You are progressing well along the road,” he tells her. “Your knowledge of the metal arts is growing apace and we will be honing your skills on the special items we will be working on over the next few months.” 

She smiles proudly. “Thank you master. Your teaching makes it seem so easy.” 

“But I did not teach you the cunning and skill you showed in your last quest.” He grins at her. “One day you must enlighten me about where you learned that craft.” 

“The vital fluid you managed to collect and store contains the power we need to forge him a chain. It also gives me power over him, but he is not aware of that, and must never be allowed to find out or we lose the power we have gained.” 

“Your sleight of hand, if that is the correct word, with the phial is a vital part in the making of the chain.”

***** 

The apprentice brings the glass jar of gold granules to the work bench where the magician is preparing a black crucible. He cleans it thoroughly, first with water and then with a colourless spirit. He places the crucible on to the ceramic square and waves his hand along the side of the plate. 

“A little gentle heat to start with to dry out the crucible and burn off any vapours.” 

The crucible starts to warm up and a little steam rises from it. The apprentice weighs out the gold beads using a brass weighing scale.  

“Exactly 1200 grains” he tells her. 

She picks out granules, replaces a larger one with a smaller one, then changes another until the scale points to precisely 1200. 

He takes the measured granules and pours them carefully into the crucible. 

“A little more heat now, to dry off he gold. We don’t want any moisture trapped in the granules when they start to melt.” 

He moves his hand along the side of the ceramic plate. After a couple of minutes, there is no further signs  of steam or vapours coming from the crucible. 

He moves his hand once more along the side of the plate which starts to glow with a subtle blue light as it heats the crucible standing on it. The crucible glows red hot as it heats up and with it, its contents. The gold granules eventually reach the melting temperature and suddenly, dramatically, they melt and the liquid gold forms a beautifully rich and glowing yellow meniscus in the crucible. 

The magician and his apprentice watch as light from the glowing crucible is reflected and dispersed in all directions from the surface of the molten gold. The apprentice gazes at the gold surface, fascinated by the ripples and undulations which swirl across the metal. 

“It is now many years since I first looked upon this golden dance but even after all this time, I am still entranced by the beauty of this metal. It is regal enough in its quiet solid state but in its fiery liquid flow it reveals its true power and majesty.” 

“Look carefully” he tells the apprentice, “and you can see the blemishes in the surface caused by the specks of impurity. They don’t shine as brightly as the pure gold”. 

He reaches for a jar containing beads of a white substance and sprinkles a couple of beads on to the surface of the gold. 

“Borax to wash away the dirt and leave the gold clean and pure,” he tells his apprentice.  

The beads roll rapidly around on the glowing hot surface, gradually shrinking in size and sending trails of white flashing across the gold from the centre to the edges of the surface. When they reach the edge, they seem to soak away into the sides of the crucible.  

 “Now to give it the properties we need.” 

He takes a pinch of powder from another jar and drops the fine grains on to the gold surface. There is a crackle and tiny bright sparks leap from the crucible, startling the apprentice. The surface of the gold trembles and then settles back into its smooth and gentle swirling. 

“We are ready to give it the power its owner wants for it. Fetch the phial.” 

The apprentice goes to the cooling cabinet where she had stored the precious phial she had filled at the ritual of the Two Minutes. 

 “Just two drops.” The magician told her. “That is all it needs and we might find a use for the rest later.” 

She opens the phial and nervously but very carefully, she adds two drops of the viscous gold speckled fluid to the molten metal. There is no sound as the drops hit the surface of the gold, but the metal instantly turns a deep red colour and then, just as quickly, it returns to its rich yellow appearance, but it now shows a strange luminescence. 

Some of the molten gold is then poured into a pencil shaped mould until the liquid gold fills it.  The gold remaining in the crucible is poured into a shallow rectangular mould. The gold cools, but all the time it retains its rich yellow lustre. It does not change colour as it cools. 

Soon, it has cooled down and returned to its solid state. The magician flips the rectangular mould over, tipping the gold out on to the wooden surface of the bench. There is a smell of charring wood as he picks up the gold slab with a small pair of tongs and places it carefully into a bowl of clean water. 

He then breaks open the pencil shaped mould to reveal a thin golden rod which he also puts into the water. 

“One for the wire to make the chain and the other? Well, we will use that later!” 

“What will you use it for master?” asks the apprentice. 

“I have many ideas,” he replies, “but I have yet to decide.” 

So the two bars of enhanced gold cool down together in the water until the apprentice is able to pick them out, dry them and place them in a fine leather bag. The magician marks the bag with some symbols and stores them away in a strong cupboard under the work bench. 

***** 

The magician lays out the tools he will need on the work bench, a hammer, a pair of gripping tongs and a set of wire drawing dies and a polished steel platen fixed into a clamp mounted on the bench. 

He is arranging the wire drawing dies in a line on the bench. The dies are steel discs, each one with a hole drilled into its centre. The entry and exits of the holes are tapered and highly polished. The magician inspects each one in turn, cleans it with a chamois leather cloth and lines it up in a row with the others. When he has finished, each die in the row has a hole which is slightly smaller than the  one in the die to its left.  

“Master, how do you know the size of these dies,” asks the apprentice. “I cannot see the difference between one and another.” 

“See here,“ he replies. “The marks I have placed on them when they were last polished tell me the size of the wire they will produce. I will show you how when I next have to re-polish them.” 

The apprentice hands him the pencil shaped rod of gold. 

"It is too large for the first die, so we must hammer it to reduce its diameter." 

He takes up the hammer in his right hand and holds the gold rod in the gripping tongs in his left hand. 

"You must give even strokes all round the rod and all along its length". 

He starts to work on the gold rod and the apprentice watches intently. After he has reduced the diameter slightly, he holds the bar for the apprentice to look at. 

"See how the hammer marks overlap each other and are evenly spread over the whole surface." 

He turns the rod. 

"And you must keep the round shape of the rod so that it is the same diameter all along its length." He switches the gripping tongs to the other end of the rod and hammers the untouched end to even it up with the rest. 

"Now you try," he says and hands the hammer, tongs and gold rod to the apprentice. “Remember. Even strokes and work it all the way." 

The apprentice copies the magician’s actions as he watches her. He encourages and guides as she works on the rod until he tells her that it is now ready for the next stage. 

"Now we can turn it into perfect wire," he tells her. He hammers a point at one end of the rod so that he can push this end through the first round die and grip it with the tongs as it pokes through the other side. He fixes the die to a holding plate mounted on the bench. 

"We need a bit of strength to start this off." He pulls the gold rod through the die drawing the rod into a perfect round shape. It takes up the polished surface from the die. 

"Now you," he says, handing the rod and tongs to the apprentice. He picks up the next die and hands it to her. She struggles at first to pull the rod through but with a little help she draws the rod through the die and smiles with satisfaction as they both inspect the result. 

“A fine straight rod,” he tells her. “See how your skill draws out its length.” 

She continues drawing the gold through each die in turn. With each die the wire becomes thinner and longer until she has drawn it through all the dies. She now holds a coil of fine gold wire in her hand.  It gleams in the light from the glowing globe as she presents the finished coil to her master. 

He carefully cuts the wire into precise constant lengths using a pair of delicate shears and a measuring frame. Each short length of wire is quickly wrapped round an oval platen made of shiny steel to form an oval link. As each link is created, it slides towards the bottom of the platen to form a steadily growing column of yellow rings. 

When the platen is full of rings, the apprentice slides them off into a shallow silver bowl. She now starts to thread the links together. He would use tweezers for this task but she can easily handle the links using her more delicate fingers. The magician continues producing another set from the remaining wire until all the wire has been cut and looped and all the rings have been joined. 

“Now we must work together,” he tells her. You must hold each link so that I can weld it into a seamless oval.” He demonstrates how he wants her to hold the chain. 

She takes up the first link and presents it to him. He takes up the small flame torch and ignites it. A blue flame bursts forth from the end of the torch and he directs it briefly at the point in the link where the two ends of the wire loop meet. 

“A simple caress is all it requires,” he explains as he brushes the gold with the flame. For an instant, the gold emits a flash of red light as it melts and the ends fuse together and then immediately solidify as the flame is withdrawn. 

She adjusts the chain so that the next link is offered to the flame and the fusion process is repeated. As she grows in confidence, the master and apprentice develop a flowing rhythm of hand and gold and flame. 

With the fusion of the last link, the chain is finished and lies coiled in the apprentice’s hand. The magician takes the chain into his hand and lifts his palm up to the glowing globe. The chain wriggles slightly in his hand, settling itself into a more comfortable position. 

“Now we must find out what power we have wrought into this simple device”

***** 

The magician stands near the centre of the room by the polished wooden bench. He raises his hand and four small globes descend from the ceiling around the large glowing globe. They start to glow themselves, with increasing brightness and the light bounces back from the dark wooden walls and furnishings creating a warm enticing atmosphere, transforming the workshop into a snug and welcoming room. 

The heavy drapes covering the doorway are parted and the apprentice enters. She leads a young woman into the room. The young woman is wearing a long red cloak, fastened with a simple tie belt at the waist. Wide sleeves reveal a red leather strap buckled at each wrist. She has a red leather collar around her neck. She smiles demurely at the magician as she follows the apprentice towards the centre of the workshop. 

The apprentice leads her to the polished wooden bench in the centre of the room and turns to nod to the magician. The young woman removes the red cloak, folds it neatly and lays it at on end of the bench. She is wearing a thin white linen shift which reaches down to her knees. She turns to the magician and smiles again, seeking some sign of approval perhaps. The magician allows himself to smile at her in return. 

The apprentice lifts the woman’s left hand towards the magician. He has the chain in his hand and points one end of it at the woman’s wrist. The chain snakes out and wraps itself around the strap at her wrist. It continues its journey, sliding up her arm to her neck. The magician is now standing on the opposite side of the bench, moving his hand in the air like a conductor leading an orchestra. 

The chain turns downwards and slides gently over the rising slope of the woman’s breast. Then under the magician’s direction it continues to explore the woman’s body. Her eyes close and she becomes totally absorbed in the movement of the chain over her skin. She starts to respond to the actions of the chain, moving her hands to follow its lead. The magician is directing her movements through the chain like a puppeteer directing every movement through invisible strings. 

 She climbs on to the bench and under the spell of the chain, she beckons to the apprentice. The apprentice responds, she also has become absorbed by what she has been watching and she stretches out her hand towards the woman on the bench. As their hands come close together, the chain uncoils slightly and moves across to slide over the apprentice’s wrist and along her arm. 

Both of the women are now under the spell of the chain. It directs the two of them as, together, they disrobe and both are naked on the polished wooden bench. 

The chain tightens between them, drawing their bodies closer together, first gently persuading one limb, then another. Several points along the chain are now moving in different directions and a ripple effect passes along its length. As it does so, it moves one part of a body to stroke another – sometimes a hand, then a thigh, sometimes the women are stroking themselves, sometimes, each other. 

They kneel, and following the chain, the apprentice twists around the body of the other, and places delicate kisses along her neck, and throat, and draws her hand over nipple, stomach, and breast.  Her lips and tongue follow her hand.  The golden chain slithers around her wrist, and gently tugs the hand along the waist and down to a slender hip.  The light sparks off the chain as her hand plays with the hip bone and a thumb circles the point, then slides behind the owners back to caress and touch, and hold. 

The chain slides on, slipping from hip to buttock, under the thigh, and then back around the thigh of the apprentice.  The chain tightens, and momentarily, the two girls touch intimately, and one moans a little, and the other sighs, then the chain slackens, undulates away, and they are released. 

The kissing becomes urgent, as the chain makes a loop to take the hand of the apprentice from the thigh to the nest of hair below the belly of her partner, and fingers made clever by the golden chain make touches that spark a fire and need that make them shiver and strain to be closer. 

The girl pulls the apprentice down on top of her, as the chain twines around her waist, and under her, then slides upward around the thighs and waist of the apprentice again.  The chain tightens, and slackens, pulling the two girls closer together, releasing them for a moment, then pulling tighter again, in a rhythm which is insistent and exciting.  The apprentice leans over, and buries her hands in the girl's long hair to hold her still, licks the lips of the girl beneath her, and opens her mouth to taste her.  Her hips move with the chain, and as she does so, backs arch, and bodies strain together. 

Breathing sounds become louder and murmurs drift through the room. All the time, the magician is gazing intently at the undulating bodies and conducting the action of the chain by the movement of his hands in the air. 

The magician makes no attempt to involve himself in the action taking place before him. The requirements of attaining the highest levels of his order, which he had reached many years ago, went far beyond demonstrating his skills and knowledge of his craft. He had to commit his entire being to the order and his vows did not allow him to partake in physical acts of love or sex. 

But this was merely testing the power of the chain. His vows do not preclude that.

© Forge Master June 2002  Feedback to Vulcan