Sparky the Smith (Patreon)

The recent Fast Fingers :) It didn't get a number, cause I wasn't sure when I want to upload it. I should really stop counting my arts, as I'm already waaaaay past any number that can make it any more impressive. Or maybe I should just set for a goal and then end counting? :D I'm drawing art almost daily for so long it kind of became natural.

Anyway, here's Sparky, the smith! You do not want to irritate her, seriously.
Please don't post any sexual comments under this lady, she's a very personal character <3 I really enjoyed working on her musculature!

There is also a story to go along with the art, by Aksan <3 Hope you enjoy it :)

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Sparky the Smith

The asymmetric horns instinctively ducked under the high lintel of the castle smithy, pausing a little afterwards and tilting around as the Stormwing observed how comfortable the building was. From the depths of the workspace by the forge itself, emerged the castle’s resident smith, brow and jaw already set for an argument. Despite the foul temper, there was an undeniable handsomeness to the smith. The young Krinaale was everything the thaness had been told to expect: tall, well-muscled, pale-skinned, silver-grey-haired, but nonetheless a young woman. An unmistakable hourglass figure, whose eyes, in all their complex hues, were fixed accusingly on the visitor.

“Why are you–” Jonina’s hand came up as she interrupted herself, “Why am I even here?”

“Well.” The dragon frowned a little. “The Thane wanted us to talk about working together.”

“But why does he need two smiths?” The woman’s tone held back the answer on the Stormwing’s lips. “Jaspet tripled my pay over the last four years. Begged me to stay on when I wanted to see the back of this place. And now the new thane arrives and has this big, strong dragon to replace me.”

“Thank you,” the thaness said with a little awkwardness, before a heavy settling breath. “For what it’s worth, I certainly wasn’t brought here to replace you, else I will have to have some words with my dear bond partner. Working with you was my own suggestion. I’ve no urge to take your forge from you, and in fact Princer Jaspet made the case across several letters that I respect your ownership of the forge as it means a lot to you. Is that right?”

“Maybe . . .” the young Krinaale grumbled, her awkwardness unrelieved by the quiet visitor, “I grew up with Iggly. I survived, not physical survival, but . . . Yeah, they were right, staying with the forge was good for me. Just, don’t tell them that?”

Subtly the blue-scaled finger came to rest on the Stormwing’s lips with a soft smirk. “Iggly is the forge I take it?” There was a shy, embarrassed nod. “Cute.” Jonina blushed deeply, not quite able to place the subject of the remark, all her anger lost. “I’ve heard you’re very practically gifted, and certainly practised working with arms and armour.” The snow-white cheeks stayed a rosy red, if for a new reason. “But, and I don’t mean any offence by this, I’m sure there are gaps, in your theory, in your breadth of knowledge–”

“Are you offering me an apprenticeship?” Jonina blurted, catching herself and ducking away behind a wooden pillar to feign a task.

“I guess I am,” the dragon said with a soft snort, “I’ve never had an apprentice before. They don’t actually need you to teach to become a master.”

“So those are rings of mastery in your ear?” Embarrassment couldn’t hold back the smith’s relieved excitement and curiosity now as she popped back round the pillar.

“Master Smith Leonastra, at your service,” the Stormwing announced, bowing her head gently, “They hadn’t started making them large enough for draconic hands when I earnt mine.”

“I have no idea when that would be,” Jonina confessed with an uncomfortable smile, “I haven’t even seen rings from the college before.”

“Of course not,” the dragon said and bit her tongue, “I’m sorry. It is getting close to being six hundred years ago now. I might have been swinging axes in recent decades, but I built these arms swinging a hammer.” She punctuated the awkward shift of topic with a firm slap of her bicep, and smiled as she saw it land even better than she expected, drawing Jonina’s eyes and even for a moment her hands, before the smith caught herself.

“Would it be self-serving to say I’ve got a soft spot for a girl with smithing arms?”

“Perhaps,” the Stormwing rumbled, indulging them both with a little posing, “Especially since I doubt there were many other smithing lasses in the castle before now.”

“Maybe it’s a recent thing . . .” Jonina withered a little under a raised eyebrow.

“I’ve worked in a smithy with an infatuated lass before, and that didn’t . . .” the master smith shook her head fondly, “Okay, that did end well, but it’s not what I’m looking for here. I want to get back to working with metal, and, if you’re willing, I want to pass on some knowledge to you.”

Jonina fidgetted as she looked at the Stormwing’s huge feet, wringing her hands and eventually giggling.

“Not that knowledge.”

“Sorry.”

“Shall I go and get my tools?” she asked flatly.

“Yes,” Jonina’s head finally rose, “Yes, please. I would . . . I would really appreciate that. Thank you.”

“It would be a pleasure,” the dragon rumbled.

“Should I call you master then? Or mistress?” The young woman’s face was almost composed as she asked, but cracks showed as she got a flat stare.

Already halfway out of the smithy, the dragon stopped herself to reply. “Leona will suffice, Sparky if you play your cards right.”

“I’ll try!” Jonina called out the door, paused for a moment before slamming her head into the frame with a sigh.