The start of Arachne's preparations began a month after Mother Maccis had given her own insight into that of something she knew she would not have acted on otherwise, although she only saw it right, as the arrangement of which she was formulating should have occurred quite a while ago, although she had never thought of making them, and nor had the second party of which it concerned. But as she began to dig deeper into the processes, she truly realized how intensive their inner workings were, and began to respect others who had organized them on their own while keeping it an absolute secret.
But, of course, Arachne had never been one to back down from keeping a secret, for she had been doing so since she was simply a child when she had not realized her secret keeping would actually be imperative for her own livelihood, and would have been the only reason that she was alive in the place of which she had found her sanctuary. She recalled hearing some of the people within the community itself, those that had been untouched by the harms of the true Underdark, wishing their secrets were not as public as they had become after they happened to acquire one, but they knew little about true secrets. They feared for social embarrassment, but those who lived in the proximity of any Matron Mother knew what real severity was when it came to secret keeping.
She had to remind herself, though, that they did not need to be corrected, for it was fortunate for them to be raised in a place where there were no stakes, save for the social ones, and it wasn't her place, nor in her very best interests, to become frustrated with such people. In fact, Arachne found it almost endearing, something to teach her that not everything in the world came from horrible things, and after her vision she was in desperate need of that feeling. She promised herself that she would trust Mother Maccis and the Dawn Guard to deal with what she saw, and as such her attention turned to other things to attempt to direct it away from what she feared would happen; she tried to ruminate the fact that she was in a place where her paranoia would be seen as just that, for that was all it was.
Back to her dealings, though, after her intensive planning for the structure of what she needed to make, she had to pay Tris, Ristil, and their ten-year-old son, Kal, a visit, or rather the man of the home. Arachne quite enjoyed the entire family's company, as both husband and wife had been her friends when she needed them to be, and in turn, during Tris's pregnancy, she had been there with Amalica at her side to offer further assistance. The elf valued that aid so dearly that she had even named Arachne and her partner her son's godparents. And of course he was a kind and benevolent boy, as his parents raised him as such, and he was probably one of the most unique in the whole of their community due to his mixed genes, but not in a peculiar way, but in a beautiful sense.
He had his mother's beautiful blond hair, which was thin and soft, and not at all white like that of his father's, although he did possess his red eyes, marking him the child of a drow, although his finely colored skin with slightly dark undertones described the heritage of the other parent. Perhaps it was because Kal looked so different from the norm that Arachne found him a beautiful child, but she found almost every child she encountered to be gorgeous, she recalled thinking the same thing about Durdyn, who she still dreamed about at times, wishing that she could go back for him.
With a notebook tucked away in a bag fashioned to hold it, Arachne made her way to the smithy, which was only a block down from Tris and Ristil's home, expecting her friend to be closing up shop and making his own preparations to return back to his family, which she hoped to exchange pleasantries with before she returned back home to Amalica. It was the bard's turn to cook, and from the ingredients she had begun to lay out before she had left under the pretense of simply returning something she had loaned from their friends, the drow elf could tell that her partner was planning on making her specialty; a meatless mushroom stew, something that had taken her quite a while to get used to eating due to her poor luck in regards to the vegetable.
As she dawned on the open metal structure that was the smithy, Arachne saw Ristil and his apprentice, Brorn, beginning to put their tools away and dousing the fire beneath the gigantic furnace. Absentmindedly adjusting the collar of her button-up shirt, the first two clasps undone, she playfully knocked on the center most pole, akin to wrapping her knuckles against a door, her legs crossed together as she leaned against the steel supporting the roof, a gentle smile adorning her face.
Calling out to her friend who was in the back of his own workplace, his wide-eyed apprentice looking up from the furnace at her as she did so with a welcoming smile to match her own, "Ristil! You're not even going to greet your friend?" Arachne gasped dramatically, seeing her friend turn around, "I'm telling Tris on you– no, better yet, I'm telling your son on you!"
Ristil shook his head, a hatchet cradled in one of his strong hands, a smirk on his face that seemed to have never left his features despite the stress of fatherhood, walking towards her, "I'm a dad, I've seen everything! I have yet to see you rat me out to my wife before!" He hugged her briefly, skillfully leaving the hatchet within his hands, not covered by its appointed leather strap, away from her, instead lodging Arachne away from her support, instead leaving her to stand on her own. "What d'you need? We're closing, so I can't make you another pan if Amalica's broken another one." He turned around, continuing his work while still expecting her to respond to him, ready to continue the conversation despite talking.
Arachne chuckled, crossing her arms playfully against the leather of her corset, "Don't badmouth my girlfriend like that! I may not like fighting, but I do still know how to use a weapon!" she teased. Looking to Brorn for a moment, she gave him a brief glance, indicating to him that whatever he heard during their conversation would not be mentioned before continuing, unwrapping the leather tie of her satchel bag and opening her notebook to the marked page, messy and unproficient drawings on two separate pages appearing when she opened it. Tapping Ristil on the shoulder, she continued, "I was wondering if you could forge these at some point."
Her friend stood, leaning over her shoulder due to his height, looking down at her poorly done artwork, a sparkle in his eyes that Arachne had only seen a few times before; excitement, one such occasion being that of his wedding, something she never wanted to forget. "You're doing it? It's been long enough! Of course I'll get these done! It'll probably be a few months before I can, though, since they're so intricate." Ristil took the notebook, showing the designs to Brorn, who looked at Arachne and then the book again, a smile on his face, "You made these yourself?"
Arachne nodded, smiling gently, "It took a month, but I managed it. I'm not an artist, clearly."
Ristil chuckled, mimicking her voice a bit, "Clearly," he returned to his normal tone, "you aren't, but at least you can play music and sing. Oh! You could sing something, too! Show off what you learned and all of that mushy crap!" He grinned with such a mischievous intent that Arachne almost couldn't help but wonder if he truly wanted her to do so, and if so she would have to remind him of her lack of skill in the creative field.
She chuckled, shaking her head bashfully, her hands doing so in unison, "Oh, goodness no! I can write poetry, and that's hard enough as is, but I'd have to write a song. We both know that's different." Arachne wiggled her fingers that were still splayed out from her previous remark of uncertainty, watching as Ristil rolled his eyes after she finished her sentence, "Plus, I'm still healing from the time that damn harp in the chapel cut my fingers. No one told me those strings were so sharp!"
This was in reference to a time that, two months prior, she had been blessed with the opportunity to play the harp on the altar during the weekly church service in dedication to Eilistraee, even being privileged enough to be allowed to sing the songs that were so sacred to their community, which valued quality of sound above all else. However, what Arachne had obviously not been prepared for, was how well kept the strings of the instrument were, and as such her fingers suffered much at her own expense, leading her to have to stop playing music for a while due to the severity of the cuts. It was a still a point of ridicule for that of her friends and the rest of the community, but always in a playful sense, for each time a new player took the stance, the women who took their places at the temple would say to them that they would be met with her own mark upon the harp. It made for fun conversation after those services, and she was all for a change in pace from time to time.
Brorn looked at the two of them, shyly scratching the back of his neck, no doubt due to the certainty of which the two carried themselves, also due to his age, for he was only seventeen at the time, and had been born only two years before Arachne had come into Cell Maccis, and as such she had known him all of his life. "Ristil, I can finish up for you if you want to talk to Arachne more about her designs. Tell Tris and Kal I say hi, if you can, that is."
Ristil smiled at Brorn, and, as he tucked Arachne's notebook underneath his arm, he grabbed his coat, having it hung over his arm, giving the teenager a swift side hug, "Thanks, kid. Have a nice night. May the Lady protect your dreams." The term of which he used was one she was still attempting to get used to, as it was strange for her to hear, as, during her time growing up, she rarely dreamed after becoming blessed with the Reverie and understanding her past life, and it had only been since she had begun living in safety that she felt secure enough to dream again.
Brorn, in proper fashion, shook Ristil's hand, an anxious smile on his face, "You too."
After he walked off, Arachne and her friend stood for a moment, watching as he disappeared down the slight hill of the path that led to his own abode, the two of them briefly discussing the arrangements she needed made before they decided that she could make a visit to both Tris and Kal so as to check in on them before Amalica had made the two of them dinner. And it was with no hesitation that she walked by Risitl's side to his home, which was a small and simple thing, its windows closed due to the night's nature, although there was nothing to hide save for simple decency, which was in a plentiful supply.
She still remembered when the two newlyweds had been moving together, and Tris's refusal to remove things from her life that proved to be clutter, and how much prodding that all of her dearest friends, and in turn her bridesmaids (Amalica had been her maid of honor), had to help her clear the things that she had been simply hoarding. Arachne supposed one could expect it from someone who left their home for the dingy underground, and as such she didn't prod as hard as the others, but still managed to remove some of the absolutely unnecessary items that she knew for a fact had no meaning to the surface world of her family at all.
Arachne then remembered the babyshower she had gotten painfully drunk over, and how she had been unable to walk straight for about half a day afterwards due to the fact that Ristil had thought it a good idea for the guests to participate in a friendly drinking game, which had turned into a group of bumbling and intoxicated fools returning home with the aid of the more aware. In her own case, that being Amalica, who had never stopped teasing her about the state that she had been in, and how much she had ranted about how beautiful her eyes were. Although it had led to certain conversations about her past, as she had muttered several confused apologies to Bemril, who she had been certain was standing in front of her, handing her a platter of mushrooms with a culpable frown on his face, just as before.
Despite this, she and Ristil spoke in hushed voices about her plans while looking down at her designs, which, as he had said, were intricate, and she thought to be absolutely beautiful as well, and would be something to treasure for the rest of her life; among other things. Arachne had even been considering keeping a journal to retell her story, although she wanted to wait for the true dawn of her own tale so as to properly encapsulate the true feeling of her life. And when her items were made, they would be cherished just as her memories would be.
Following Ristil as they made their way down the hill and to his home, which was located just at its peak, Arachne smiled to herself, as they walked in silence as they reached a more abundant neighborhood of the very thing they were attempting to reach, preparing herself to speak to their son, who she had been determined to stay close with. It felt to her as if she was attempting to speak to Durdyn at times, which was something she was trying quite hard to not do, so as to not forget who Kal truly was, but at times, she saw him as the brother she had mentored and then left.
When they stepped inside their home, which was made of well-shaped and finely kept wood, the floor being made of the same fashion, save for its more worn state due to its exposure to that of walking feet, Arachne immediately heard that of Tris's voice calling from the room across from them, the two of them taking off their shoes as they did so.
"Oh! Ristil! You're early, and just in time. Kal wants to show you his new toy that Miss Lualyrr gave to him!"