Lylia, who had just woken up and walked over to see what was going on, watched Bork with a professional eye. "Oh, a visitor...?"
"Is that your wife?" Bork looks at her, knowing that she probably is her wife if she looks like she was awakened from her sleep.
Lylia immediately went all red on her face while Greg shook his head fast, "No! She's just a friend of mine!"
Lylia felt sad hearing Greg's answer, but then both of them started to talk about Bork's situation. As always, Lylia has some kind of solution.
"Maybe he needs therapy to get used to it. Start with small things and work your way up to real forging."
"Therapy for exposure?" Bork looked both hopeful and scared at the same time.
"It's a way to get over your fears," Lylia said. "You slowly expose yourself to the thing that scares you until your body realizes it's not a threat."
"But my body really thinks that hammering sounds are a threat," Bork said.
"Then we'll start really small," Lylia said with a smile that showed she was determined and had found a new project. "Seraphine! Come here, we need your ability to think critically!"
Seraphine came out of hiding with her notebook already in hand. "What's going on?"
Lylia said, "A dwarf who throws up at smithing sounds needs scientific help."
"Interesting," Seraphine said, already writing down notes. "This could be a psychosomatic reaction to trauma from early childhood, or it could be a real sensory processing disorder."
"We'll have to try different frequencies and volumes of percussive sounds to find out exactly what sets them off."
Greg realistically suggested, "Or we could just let him create something without using a hammer at all."
Everyone looked at him. ""How?""
"How do you make something without a hammer?" Bork continued.
"I don't know yet, but I made tea kettle that calms down whole villages and created life by accident with a ladle. Surely I can figure out hammer-free smithing." Greg took out a small knife and some copper wire. "Here."
"Use these to make something. No need to hammer."
Bork took the materials with hands that were shaking. "What should I make?"
"Whatever feels right, I guess. That's how I do things."
Bork started to work with the wire slowly, and Lylia set up what she called "progressive desensitization training." Bork had to tap bigger and bigger things against harder and harder surfaces while he tried to focus on his wirework.
Tap. Tap. TAP.
"Still good?" Lylia asked.
"Yes, surprisingly," Bork said, his hands moving more confidently with the wire. "It's different when I'm focused on creating something myself."
"Interesting," Seraphine said. "The act of being creative protects the mind from the sound trigger."
Seraphine asked, "Greg, does this happen to you? Do you stop being distracted when you forge?"
Greg said, "Sometimes I don't notice when people are talking to me."
"It's very rude," Mira said, showing up at just the right time.
"Master-forger-darling gets so focused that I once rearranged all of his tools, and he didn't notice for three days."
Elwen said, "That makes so much sense," as she entered the workshop, which was getting more and more crowded. "Master, do you have a new student?"
"More like a new challenge," Greg said as he watched Bork work. The dwarf had made something that looked like a small decorative spiral out of the copper wire. It wasn't magical or legendary, but the look of pure joy on his face made it seem like it meant the world to him.
Bork whispered, "I did it! I finally made something without throwing up once."
Greg said, "That's progress right there, Bork."
"Could we try something bigger?" Bork asked eagerly. "Perhaps we could use materials that are more durable?"
Greg was about to say something when Lylia thought it was time to make the exposure therapy more intense. She picked up a small hammer and hit a piece of scrap metal with it.
CLANG.
Bork's face changed from hopeful to green in no time at all. He lunged for the bucket, but Lylia was ready with a trash can that was in the right place at the right time.
"Too fast," Seraphine said. "We need to take it slow, maybe you could start with softer materials that don't make as much noise."
"Or," Greg said loudly over Bork's continued retching, "we could accept that he's never going to be a traditional blacksmith and focus on what he can do."
Bork looked up from his undesirable spot, which was bent over the trash can. "But everyone thinks dwarves are blacksmiths."
Greg said, "Everyone thought I would be a weapon maker, and then I said no."
"Everyone thought Lylia would stay a knight, but she became a cook."
"Everyone thought that Seraphine only cared about research until she learned to love people."
"Everyone expected Elwen to continue her family legacy of legendary weapons. And the result is every day, she makes a few less floating spoons."
"Progress!" Elwen said with pride.
Greg went on, "The point is, you don't have to be what everyone else wants you to be."
"Make things your own way. If that means making things without using a hammer, then do it.
Bork cleaned his mouth and stood up straight. "You really mean that?"
"I accidentally created a spirit girl from a soup ladle. I don't have the right to tell anyone what's not possible."
"I'm not an accident!" Mira puffed out her cheek. "I'm a gift!"
"You're both," Lylia said with a smile.
Bork looked around the messy workshop at the group of misfits who had all found their place by refusing to fit in. Something in his face changed. "Is it okay if I stay here?"
"Not as a student, but as someone who is learning how to make their own way?"
"Of course, I at least need a man because I don't want it to be all girls." Greg said. "But you're helping with commissions that don't need hammering."
"And moral support!" Bork said with excitement. "I'm excellent at encouragement. Look!"
He looked at Elwen. "Today, your spoons are only a little cursed! That's great progress!"
"Um... Thanks?" Elwen was not sure what to say.
"See?! Support for morals." Bork smiled, and the beads on his beard made a happy sound.
Greg looked around his workshop, which was now even more crowded than before, and thought about when he had stopped setting limits. Bork happily started cheering everyone on while carefully avoiding looking at any hammers, and Greg understood that this was just how things were now.
He had a peaceful break for three hours, and now he had a dwarf who wanted to be a blacksmith but couldn't. The Peaceforger has another day like this.
Greg said, "I'm definitely cursed."
"Blessed," Mira said with a smile.
"Same thing at this point," Greg said, but he couldn't help but smile. His crazy family had just grown a little bit, and for some reason, that felt just right.