#caldarus x farmer

[dreamtydraw]

I love the winter season, I swear it's so cool I love winter....

Myliane is cleaning him from snow every morning....

Putting it under the cute to avoid spoiling people but I couldn't help myself and doodled my version of human Caldarus based on the color leaks

[qalanthe]

Caldarus x farmer fanart (leaked design spoilers under the cut‼️)

[meanderingsofmistria]

Dance for Joy

Caldarus x gn! farmer

Word count: 902

Warnings: not proofread and honestly kinda rushed, but I was listening to some dance music and felt inspiration. Enjoy!

(I cannot wait for the day that I can smooch the dragon. Lemme plssss give the dragon a smooch)

    “Dance for me. Please.” 

     These words would have been jarring to hear no matter who it came from, but the word ‘jarring’ took on a whole new meaning when this phrase was spoken by Caldarus of all people. Or, well, creatures?

     “Why…” The farmer asks, their confused gaze falling upon the regal statue, an impressive carving standing tall and proud. 

     “The people of Mistria are joyous people-”

     “Even…”

     “Yes. Even March. Even he finds joy in this life. Though I, like many, cannot see it. I can feel it, though. Deep within me, I can feel when he is prideful, when he fashions a blade just to his liking. I can feel Lady Adeline’s desperation when her thoughts are about Mistria’s future and fate. I can feel Holt’s excitement as he thinks of a new joke to share. I can feel the joy of the people as they dance around each other at the seasonal festivals, and how their excitement and merriment are shared with each other as they enjoy themselves. And…I can feel your desire to join them, to dance alongside them. I can feel that, and I can see how you hesitate. I see and feel, yes, but I cannot understand.”

     The farmer remained silent, taking in the new information. They considered Caldarus their friends at this point. Their daily banter and amicable exchanges have slowly made them forget his true heritage. They heard his stories daily, grinned as he recalled some of his past, but at this moment they truly remembered that he was a dragon. 

     “I enjoy dancing, I do. But I don’t enjoy it when others watch me dance. I feel out of place and I get embarrassed, so even if I work up the courage to dance with them, I don’t think I would feel happy doing it.”

     The Guardian of Mistria grew silent. His words were often so expressive that one could easily overlook the fact that he didn’t have the ability to show any expressions on his stone face.

     “Farmer, tell me. Would you find joy in dancing if I were to avert my gaze. I wish only for your joy, for you to dance freely.”

     “Why?”

     Again, the farmer is met with a brief silence.

     “I feel the joy of the inhabitants of Mistria. I feel their content and their happiness. I revel in their joy and laughter…though I find myself yearning to feel yours as well.”

     This time the Guardian is met with silence from the farmer.

     “You…” The farmer pauses, collecting their thoughts. “...you yearn for …my joy?” They ask, hesitantly, as if waiting for the punchline to a joke made at their expense.

     “Yes. Although if I were to put more thought into it, I feel as though craving would better encompass my feelings on the matter.”

     A silence is shared between the two. One lost in raging thoughts, the other calmly navigating through them. 

     “There…isn’t any music. How shall I dance?”

     Caldarus was made of stone, yet the farmer swore they could see him light up.

     “I am of the opinion that the sounds of nature provide the most brilliant music. However…I may remember some music from a long time ago. Music that could be used for dancing. I am not the best singer, but I can follow a tune just fine.”

     “You’d sing for me?”

     “If you dance for me, yes, I shall sing for you.”

     “How shall I dance?”

     “You may dance however you wish, farmer. My only request is that you may feel joy in your dance.”

     The farmer smiles wistfully, feeling that aforementioned joy creep up on them.

     “Very well o’ Guardian of Mistria.” They took a dramatic bow before the statue. “Sing and I shall dance for you. Caldarus chuckled heartily, amused by their theatrics. 

     The Guardian and the farmer made good on their vow to each other, singing and dancing for hours upon hours. Even as the day turned to night, the stars provided a spotlight for their performance. The farmer danced and danced, laughing and smiling, singing along as best they could as they talked and shared stories.

     As the night continued, the Guardian Dragon found himself yearning, craving for something he could not yet have. The farmer danced beautifully. They were not classically trained, nor was their technique flawless…but they were having fun. And Caldarus felt odd about that. An odd feeling bubbling up from deep inside of him. He craved…he wanted that joy. He looked upon the farmer and watched as they danced…he wanted to dance beside them. He wanted them to look upon him with a joyous smile and dance alongside him. He wanted to hold them, smile at them, and be joyful in their presence. Ah to feel that joy, the joy of dancing. The joy of loving.

     The night progressed wonderfully, up until a point when the farmer suddenly collapsed from exhaustion, sometime around 2am, if he recalled correctly. They stopped, but he still sang. He sang to them throughout the night, until he could not sing anymore. He was regaining strength, thanks to the farmer and their offerings of essence, but he could not remain conscious for as long as he hoped. No, he could not dance with them, nor could he smile at them. But he could sing for them, if only a little, in hopes that they would dance for him another night.

(Thanks for reading! Feel free to request!)

[hyacinthleaves]

i'm desperate for more caldarus and ryis stuff, super excited to see you write for both! could i request maybe some general dating headcanons for those two!? (separate/not poly!) maybe how they would react to having a touch-starved/easily flustered/shy partner?

Caldarus:

Since I cannot predict the future, we're just gonna go with the statue version

He would feel SO BAD because he can't really physically touch you

I mean you could attempt to hug his statue but even that would receive a somewhat negative response from him

Not because he doesn't like it but because he can't do anything

I think the first time he flustered you was by accident but he thought it was really amusing so he kept doing it

Like the first time it happened was probably due to what seemed like a simple compliment to him but a deeper one to you and you took it to heart

Anyway back to the main topic, I feel like there isn't much you can do

You can't bring him anywhere, and how can you explain that you're talking to a statue?

So most of the time all the bonding you have is you gossiping to him about the town folk

I can see him initially being a quiet listener to the point of it seeming like he doesn't care

But you can tell he does when he brings up the topic days later in an attempt to start a conversation

You'd have to explain certain things to him because yk...era differences and such

But he really does appreciate the time you take out of your day to talk to him. I mean, depending on how you cleared the area around his statue, he sees how hard you work everyday, so the fact that you stop to talk to him means a lot

Please decorate the area around his statue. He'll be kinda nonchalant as usual because really what does that do for him, but he really does appreciate it, even if those exact words aren't said

Honestly he's genuinely so confused on why you haven't left him for one of the townsfolk

Not because he has a low self esteem, but due to his current state

Since he really doesn't understand it, it'll always be at the back of his mind

Honestly solid 9/10 bf despite his state (I'm so biased)

Ryis:

You guys are THE couple

Well obviously but you two are the type of people that old people look at and laugh under their breath to just say "young love ☺️" like this is almost movie-like

I feel like in terms of love languages, acts of service is gonna be a big thing, and words of affirmation as well

Both of you are busy but there is a noticeable change in how much time he takes out of his day to talk to you

Always remembers important dates. Like it's highly likely that you're the one forgetting important dates instead of him

He's an amazing communicator too. If you're struggling to tell him something that he did that bothered you, he's already apologized for it, boom.

I don't think it's often that you two get into arguments

Not because he's nonconfrontational, but because he's really easy to make compromises with, he's not stubborn at all when it comes to you

The "mama y papa" audio went into my head and that's probably what it feels like when anyone is stuck with you two. Literally the parent couple

It probably gets to a point where people forget that there was a time where you two weren't together

I feel like once you get flustered, he gets flustered because he thinks about what he said that made you react that way and he's like oh.

I can't see him being super touchy but I don't think he would mind you clinging onto him anyway

I don't even think he would notice until someone mentions it

Usually he has a hand on you anyway. Your waist, your shoulder, your hands, your back, your thigh (if he doesn't get too flustered in the moment) literally damn near anywhere

He's literally almost perfect I cannot think of a problem besides him being busy, 9/10

[ookikufurikabutte]

wayneradiotv voice: gubgar react to rock

(my personal design for him while we wait)

[ayachaska]

bcuz ofc the only marriage candidate i'm going for is a lonely statue

like, he needs some tea time too

[marchofmistria]

A Nice Contrast

A/N: This is my first Fields of Mistria fic so I hope you like it! It's based off March's autumn dialogue when you speak to him at the forge and he tells you that it's nice and warm in contrast to the cold outside <3

Planning to cross-post this to AO3, and will update this post with the link when I do.

Summary: March helps you warm up by the forge when it starts to cool down in Mistria.

Word Count: 2,127

Tags: March x Reader, gender-neutral reader (2nd person), hurt/comfort, fluff AO3 link here!

The summer bled into autumn and it was officially cold in Mistria. You felt like you barely had time to catch up, and the first two seasons you spent in the town sped by so fast you could scarcely remember to enjoy the season before it was over. Days at the beach with friends felt long and restful in the moment, and now they let out to a short and cool autumn when a farmer's work is hardest. Your wardrobe had yet to catch up to the change in Mistrian weather, however, and unpacking your warmer clothes was on the to-do list. However, a late start to the day after a late night in the mines and that plan was gone.

It was already 2PM by the time you had finished your daily tasks on your farm. The crops were watered and they had just begun to peer out of the dark soil. Your animals were fed and seemed happy. You sat down for a moment next to Caldarus, chatting with him as you untied your hair and changed out of your farming gloves. There were errands to do today, after all, and Mistria certainly did not rest for you.

As you fell into the swing of the day, your morning plans were quickly and totally forgotten. You didn't have much of a chance to notice; you felt warm from running around the whole town for hours. These townsfolk sure knew how to run you to the ground. First it was a delivery for Balor, then a chat with Nora before returning to Balor, then a trip to the museum to discuss a new finding with Eiland and Errol, some fishing for Reina's new dish at the Inn tonight, and a quick trip to the mines to repair a chip in the metal of your shovel.

Your body had gotten stronger in the last few months since arriving to the small town, but you felt exhausted regardless. Days felt like they ended too soon as is, but as you left the mines, you were truly surprised by the incoming dark. How did it get so late so fast?

The feeling really set in once you set off to the forge to smelt your findings. The breeze blew your hair back and out of your face, exposing your shoulders further and starting a chill down your arms. You felt thirsty and very hungry and realized you missed lunch and would miss dinner if you didn't hurry.

Wanting to catch March before he left the forge for his own dinner, you hurried on, wrapping your arms protectively around your shoulders for some mock-warmth. It did little to help, and you had begun to feel a bit lightheaded.

March seemed to be finishing his work day just as you were arriving, although you knew he would leave the forge hot for you to use at all hours. He had grown accustomed to your habits, knowing how busy you were throughout the day and that you might come to the forge even late at night to squeeze as much into the day as you could before you passed out from exhaustion.

When you finally stumbled up to him, he addressed you with a curt "Hey," his usual attempt at appearing nonchalant. Just as he had grown accustomed to your habits, you had gotten to know his as well. You had gotten pretty good at giving whatever he gave you right back to him, and your conversations were at the point of total ease.

But rather than shooting the shit with him as you usually did, well enough to break down his boundaries to show even some vulnerability (a shock to anyone who had ever spoken to March), you ignored his greeting and rested your hand on the anvil for support. At this point, you felt like it was the only thing supporting your weight up.

March, who often couldn't help but observe you closely whenever you were near him, noticed right away and rushed over to you. His brows knit together, he put a strong arm under your arm for you to lean into. You all but collapsed into his support for a moment, before regaining a bit of strength and using your legs to lift yourself up a bit more again.

"What's wrong?" March asked, an arm still around your torso in case you fully passed out on him. His heart beat faster, worry showing on every feature. As soon as your head stopped spinning a moment later, you looked into his eyes and saw his concern. He couldn't even try and hide his real feelings like he usually did.

You blushed as soon as you realized how close your faces were to each other. The closest they'd ever been, you both quickly noted before pulling away from each other slightly. March did not withdraw his support though, despite the blush that was tinging the tips of his ears.

"Hey, did you hear me? What's wrong? Should I call Valen?" March asked again, concern growing as you didn't answer his first question. Your mind swam back into focus when March reached his hand up, moving your hair out of your face to feel your forehead with his hand. You closed your eyes at the warmth. His hands were rough against the skin of your forehead, but the warmth spread throughout your body.

"O-oh, sorry! I just got dizzy for a second..." You finally stuttered out. The crease between March's brows lessened slightly, but was still visible. He didn't move his hand away from your face. "I think I'm just tired from the mines, and I realized I didn't eat much today. I'll be fine though."

"What the hell? Why didn't you eat anything, dumbass?" March all but barked at you. You couldn't help but smile a bit to yourself. So this is what it looks like when March worried about you...

"Charming as ever, March," you replied quietly, hoping to ease some of his worry and show that you really were okay. But as soon as that signature smirk reappeared, pulling up the corner of his lips, it was gone as you tried to walk again and stumbled once more. The dizziness was back, and you were worried that he may be right about the fever after all.

"Hey, hey... you should sit down. Don't try and stand up again," March commanded, lowering you gently to the ground. You didn't think March was capable of touching anything so gently, let alone you. He kneeled down at your side and made sure you were comfortable with your back propped against the outer wall of his house. "You're freezing... why aren't you dressed more warmly?"

You had nearly forgotten how chilly you'd gotten, and his comment caused a shiver to run down your spine. March had you scoot a bit closer to the fire in the forge. "It's warm by the forge," March said quietly, taking your hands in his and pulling them a bit closer to the fire in an attempt to warm you up a bit faster. "You shouldn't hang around in the cold too long. Especially in what you're wearing! What were you thinking?"

"March, I'm fine. I promise. I'm just a bit tired." You said weakly, hoping to provide reassurance once more (even though you didn't want him to let go of your hands quite yet. The warmth felt too good, both from the forge and from your closeness.)

"Like hell you are. You're gonna sit here while I go find Valen, got it?" You didn't dare defy him while looking into his sharp eyes. "Will you be okay a few minutes alone?" he said, the softness seeping through yet again. Your head was reeling from this contrast alone, and you nodded. March looked back at you one more time as if to verify the truth, his eyes softening as you leaned your head back to rest against the side of the house once more. Just before he left, he took off his brown jacket, throwing it on your lap before he turned and walked to Valen's clinic with speed.

As you waited for March to return with the doctor, you shrugged the jacket onto your cold shoulders. You couldn't help but note how comforting it smelled. It was the same pleasant smell you noticed when March leaned closer to you as you worked at the forge, observing your work and chiming in with helpful comments. It was also the same smell you enjoyed when March all but pulled you to his side at the Inn when he had a couple of beers in him. The warmth spread from your nose to the rest of your body. The smell of a crackling fire, leather, a bit of sweat (not at all unpleasant), and even... chocolate.

You had nearly fallen asleep in the pleasure of the smell alone when you heard March's deep voice coming up the cobblestone path to you. "—seemed like she was gonna faint. She told me she hadn't eaten anything all day, and looked like she was freezing her ass off."

Without a greeting, Valen knelt down to you eye level, checking your forehead with her hand before asking to put a thermometer in your mouth. You noticed how different her hands felt from March's. Soft, gentle, and a bit cold. Clinical was the right word.

"March, please go down to the Inn and grab them a bowl of soup, would you? That would be just the thing, I think." March went right away, as if he was tempted to do just that before Valen had given him the instruction.

"Y/N, you need to take better care of yourself. This behavior is a bit concerning to me, and it seems to March as well. Which, alone, says something, no?" Valen smiled knowingly. She gave you a bottle of water to sip on, and asked if you were still feeling dizzy. You were not. Just plain tired.

"You're running yourself to the ground with work, which I can't say I'm too happy about in the first place. But to make matters worse, skipping meals? Not dressing for the cold weather?" Valen chastised lightly. You were embarrassed that your lack of self-care had caught up with you, and now it was a problem for others as well. You hadn't meant to make anyone worry, which you expressed to Valen.

"You're right. It won't happen again. I'll make sure to take better care of myself," you said softly. "Sorry to make you worry..." Valen chuckled, surprised by your humbleness. "No need to apologize to me. We just want you to be healthy. You may not realize it, but everyone in this town has really grown to care for you. I know you want to take on everyone's problems, but I really think people would be more grateful if you watched out for yourself before you burn out all your energy."

Cheeks burning, all you could muster was a nod of your head. March returned with the soup in his hands. The steam that rose from it looked so incredibly appealing. March sat down next to you. "Have enough strength to hold the bowl or do I need to feed you?" March scoffed.

You shook your head, offering a small smile and thanking Valen again when she told you to monitor your condition and find her right away if you felt bad again. March sat next to you as you took spoonful after spoonful of the delicious vegetable soup. March said nothing, but in the silence you could tell he was making sure you finished every drop in the bowl. As soon as you had taken the last spoonful, March removed the bowl from your hands and set it down on the floor. "I'll bring this back later," said March.

"Do you think you can stand? I'll walk you back to your house," March sighed, extending his hand out for you to grab. The combination of the soup, the fire in the forge, and the presence of March next to you made you regain much of your strength. You grabbed March's hand and used it as leverage to pull yourself up to stand. Still wearing his brown leather jacket, the two of you set off in the direction of your farm.

It was only after March saw your front door close behind you and the lights flip on in your bedroom that he turned to head back home. Something about the thought of his jacket in your bedroom made his heart beat faster, and you both fell asleep that night heated by the feeling of each others proximity that lingered and left its warmth in you through the entire night.

[atoltia]

As the wind blows, remember that I'll come home to you.

started listening to "No Choice" by Fly By Midnight and this happened :')

March x Gender Neutral Adventurer/Farmer

-0-

You had to leave.

You didn't want to, of course you didn't, but you had to.

You were an adventurer first before you became a farmer, before you decided it was time to leave the thrill of adventure. To let your body rest, to abandon the horrors that you've seen in your years on the road and settle into this little town.

The life you had built here was nice, far nicer than you ever expected it would. You made friends, you found community. You were settling down.

But you, of all people, knew it wasn't going to last.

The missive arrived days after the last snowfall of spring. You thought it was another mail from Adeline or another letter from Errol asking to meet you and Eiland at the museum. Or maybe it was from March - you hoped it was - telling you that your ass better be at the inn that night.

A chill ran down your spine when you opened the mailbox. A single envelope sat inside, snug, the golden filigree emblazoned over the plush red on the quality paper glinted once the sunlight You didn't have to see the seal, didn't have to see the signature. Didn't have to see to know the colors of your guild.

But you were retired, right? You made sure of that. Made sure that you were off the ledgers, made sure that you would no longer be contacted.

And yet here it was, the ghosts of your past sitting prettily in the mailbox on the land that you so carefully tended.

There was a punch in your gut, a deep clutch at the pit of your stomach. You didn't want to open the envelope. Felt you already know what it said. But you did. You had to.

And felt your heart ice over.

Aldaria was at war. Every soldier, every adventurer within the central kingdom's guilds, every able combatant, retired or otherwise, are required to go to the frontlines.

No one is exempted.

Those who are to run will be deemed as traitors to the Crown and will be put to death.

Fuck.

-0-

The grief of it hit you quickly.

So much that you sat at the stone bench, one that you placed by Caldarus. You didn't think you could talk, didn't think you could form any of the words. Caldarus didn't pry. You thought he could sense what it was, anyway.

You didn't know how much time passed by. Didn't care. Not even hunger, not even the rain.

You had to leave. Immediately.

Adeline and Eiland were horrified. Elsie was rendered speechless. All of you were in tears.

You packed up quickly. It wasn't as if you had a lot of belongings, anyway, even though you've already spent several months here in Mistria. It had to be quick, it had to be soon, as your heart couldn't take it anymore.

The goodbyes were the most difficult of it. More tears, more fear. Hugs, promises to come back.

But you couldn't quite look at everyone in the eye. One person, at the back of the inn, just staring. Dark, dark eyes devoid of emotion. You noticed that his drink remained untouched, his food already cold. You didn't want to say goodbye, not to him. But you needed to.

You took him aside late into the night. His body was rigid, his eyes ice cold.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, tried for a weak smile. "I guess you're right. I didn't even reach winter."

"Don't." His voice was hard, shaky. "Don't fucking blame yourself for this."

"March, I-"

He grabbed your shoulders, hard, looked directly into your eyes. "Don't die,' he murmured. "And come back when this is all done. Are we clear?"

The silence descended upon both of you as you stared at each other. Sighed. Weakly smiled.

"Clear."

And you knew, neither of you wanted to think of that promise being broken.

-0-

The day you left was a particularly rainy day.

Mistria was quiet, as if the joyous energy that usually engulfed the town was washed clean.

People tried to resume their routines, their normal, but watching you leave on horseback, alone while getting soaked, was one of the most difficult sights most of them had in recent years. And yet life has to move on. Days, weeks, months had to pass.

March was not handling it well.

He managed to easily slide back into routine. Being a tradesman, the work was never-ending, especially since he decided to expand their enterprise by accepting orders from the other surrounding towns.

It made sense to expand, especially since Mistria already rose up the ranks quickly in the months the farmer was here. Wartime was an opportunity for more profits. Times were changing and he had to catch up.

(And it wasn't because he just wanted the work to keep his mind off of you.)

Every hit of the hammer to the anvil was a second that he wasn't thinking about you.

Every nail, every screw, every project was something to keep your smile, the crinkle of delight in your eye when you give him another gift, the way the sunlight streaked your hair, out of his mind.

He didn't want to smell your scent the moment he picks up the blanket you made him. He didn't want to think about you when he eats something that you liked. He didn't want to remember the feeling of you, all the curves and angles of your body, the callouses of your hands, the scars that littered your body. He didn't want to see even the barest of glimpses of you in his dreams.

And yet he couldn't escape it. Couldn't escape the way his heart weighed him down. Couldn't escape the dull thrum of longing at the back of his head.

So he worked.

And worked.

And worked no matter how much Olric told him to take a break. No matter how much his body screamed at him to stop. Not even when Valen put her foot down and demanded he rest.

Because his hand shook when he struck that hammer. His breath hitched when he stepped away from the anvil. Because his eyes teared up when his back hit against the wall when the entirety of you consumed him, assaulted his senses, his memory.

"Fuck!"

He threw his hammer down as he crumpled to the ground, shoving his head into his lap as he breathed in the way you showed him how.

When were you coming back? He just wanted you back.

-0-

They were keeping up with the current events, of course.

It was slow all around, as messengers didn't always come or the roads were blocked off. But Balor, through his contacts, made sure that Mistria got the news as soon as possible.

The North Everett Garrison fell to the enemy a week ago and proved a heavy blow to the kingdom. Massive body counts on both sides. No news yet on those who fell.

They hoped, prayed, that you weren't there. That you weren't one of the ones who died. That you were still alive and well.

It's been over a year since you left and they still hoped.

It was three weeks after the news that another messenger arrived.

March snarled when the knock on the door came. The shop was closed, goddammit. Why can't people just leave him the fuck alone? He shoved open the door, stopped when Adeline and Eiland stood outside.

Dread pooled at the base of his stomach, his body crumbling into a cold sweat. In Adeline's hand was a familiar helmet. The perfect, silver helmet that he made for you over a year ago.

-0-

They said they couldn't find you.

When the garrison fell, it was immediately reclaimed by the arriving forces. For days, the soldiers and holy people recovered and identified the dead.

But there was nothing else that they could find of you. They only found the helmet, damaged and bloody, with March's trademark on it. By the time the forces managed to collect as much as they could, you were listed as one of the missing, potentially (probably) dead.

It was enough to send him into a spiral.

March hasn't left his room in days. The meals Olric left by his door barely touched. For days he held the helmet, his hands raw from keeping it close and tight to his chest.

His usual proud eyes were dull, the shine of it diminishing slowly ever since you left. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. This was supposed to be your start at a new life, a new beginning. He saw the grief in your eyes when you first moved in. He saw the twitchiness. He saw the strain. And he saw the way you let the shadows of your past eventually fall.

Only to be thrown back again against your will.

He couldn't feel anything. Just that steady throbbing, the heavy pulling of his heart down, down, to the depths of his despair. Couldn't feel the sunlight that streamed through his window. Couldn't feel the cold of the stone floor. Could barely feel the weight of the helmet on his lap.

Time didn't exist anymore. Every single breath he took was like inhaling shattered glass. The world seemed to have lost all color.

"March?"

"Go away, Olric."

"It's not Olric."

He whipped his head back, confusion marring itself on his face. With effort, he hauled himself off of the ground.

Opened the door.

It's been a while since you've seen him.

He's a bit thinner, a little gaunt, which worried you. A shadow of a beard rested on his face as he stood there, wide eyed, as he held your helmet in his hands.

He was just as handsome as you remembered him to be. You smiled.

"Hey, March."

He had you in his arms not one second later. You felt the shudder run through his body as his strong hands pulled you tight into his embrace. This was something that you dreamed off, the one thing that pushed you through, pushed you to survive. The thought of coming back to him was the light in your darkest days.

"March-"

"Quiet."

He took his time with you. Embracing you. Taking in your scent, memorizing your body once again. You had new scars, new injuries. But he doesn't care.

You were here and that's what mattered.

"March," you murmured as you buried you face into his shoulder, your bandaged hands digging into him like a vice. "I'm home."

He breathed in, sobbed out a sigh. Smiled.

"Welcome home, farmer."

-0-

hello, if you like my stuff i have more on my masterlist! :DD

also feel free to send some requests. I'm currently in a March headspace rn but I'm willing to try other characters too o: (might take a while to get to them tho since I'm gonna be in a convention crunch time qwq)

[reveriesofadoration]

♧The dragon's circlet♧

(Caldarus x Farmer Dove)

This *vaguely waves to whatever this is. It includes a dragon that's down bad for one of his worshippers (not an au Dove does worship him)

" Could you wear it for me? I merely wish to uncover my faded memories..."

"As you wish, my lord.."

Caldarus watched as she removed her daffodil bandana and carefully set it aside on the picnic blanket. If he still had a heart, it would have been rendered useless after poounding so hard it fell out of his chest. Her green hair reminded him of spring, and oh, how he wished he could feel it. Just once had to be enough to get rid of such a want.

Her brows knit together as she tried to wipe away a tedious stain, and he has to say he's ever so thankful he is trapped within stone and can not show how he reacted to such a cute face. For he is sure it would only embarass him further and he unfortunately always wore his feelings on his sleeve.

"Please pardon me for the wait, my lord. I merely wished to rid it of any blemish, " She said with a relieved smile. "I'll wear it now."

What happened next? Caldarus does not remember.....

For the poor dragon fainted from shock at the sight of his crush looking absolutely radiant.

Oh, Caldarus.... you are truly in it deep, aren't you?

[yeehawbvby]

When the Moon Fell in Love With the Sun | Ch. 5

March x F!Farmer

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventual smut)

Chapter Summary: Juniper being a little shit leads into March and the farmer taking a bath together

Author’s Note: This isn't as spicy as the description makes it out to be kaelikgnvr it's actually a very silly chapter imo :3c

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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December knew she was screwed from the moment she locked eyes with Juniper the next day.

She wasn’t a fan of the witch, knowing that she could barely be trusted. She was like March in that she seemed to hide compassion beneath a rough exterior, but she was so self-centered, not stopping to think of the consequences her concoctions could have on people before handing them over. Where March used mean words to protect himself, Juniper used mean words and magic. A lethal combo — quite literally, considering one of her first interactions with December nearly killed her.

One near-death experience was enough for the former athlete. On that day, her typically calm demeanor had shattered and she went into a panicked fit of rage, baffled that the alchemist could be so careless.

The farmer couldn’t deny the entertainment that came from hanging out with her though. So as she entered the facility, made a bee-line to pet Dozy, and greeted Juniper and Celine — who were sat with cups of tea on the nearby couch — she was content. 

But then she looked up, and her stomach dropped at the mischievous glint in Juniper's eyes.

Her tone dripped with annoyance as she asked, “What?” while claiming a floor cushion and leaving Dozy to continue his nap.

“You’ve been a naughty girl.”

“I—” December blinked a few times, as if to buffer. “What?”

“What do you mean?” Celine wondered too.

“Pheromones are nothing to be ashamed of, December.”

“What are you, a dog?”

“Don’t be silly. Many mammals can sense these things!”

“And bugs,” Celine chimed in. 

”For fuck’s sake,” December mumbled, placing her face in her hands. 

��So, how was March? I assume he has good stamina…”

The farmer heard a tiny gasp from the blonde. “Caldarus save me,” she whined under her breath, extending the last word. It was barely audible, but Juniper heard it, her signature chortle booming in the wake of the farmer’s prayer. “I did not have sex with March.”

“Well, I suppose you do have plenty of Mistria’s residents wrapped around your dirty little farmer fingers…”

“What do y— ah!” As December lifted her view to ask what Juniper meant by that, she was startled by a delighted Celine seated next to her, leaning into her space.

She’d just been on Juniper’s couch a second ago. How did she move so quickly and quietly?

“You had sex with March?” she teased.

“No!” December nearly shouted.

Celine stared wide-eyed, feeling tickled as she viewed such strong emotions from her friend for the first time.

This wasn’t Juniper’s first rodeo.

December noted, though, that while she denied the accusation her voice seemed to… echo? 

She looked up at Juniper, who was looking at the bathhouse’s entrance, an incredulous, dangerous smile painting her features.

December and Celine both kneeled tall to peek over the lockers behind them, laughter bubbling in Celine’s throat and December’s face color-matching the pink crystal nearby as they saw a shocked March at the door.

“Wh-what did you tell them?!” he asked, briskly joining the three women. 

“Nothing! Juniper… smelled my pheromones, or something?” 

March furrowed his brows and shot a cold look at the purple-haired woman. “What are you, a fucking dog?”

“Aww,” Celine cooed, “December said the same thing!”

Juniper snickered. “A match made in heaven.”

“Mind if I go drown myself?” December asked while March groaned.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Juniper waved dismissively. “You know what? Why don’t you two enjoy a bath together, on the house!”

December and March stared deadpan at her, Celine struggling to stifle her mischievous little laughs next to them.

March thought, fuck it. Why not? A free bath is a free bath.

“Okay.”

As he answered, he crouched down to grab December’s hand, then pulled her to her feet.

“Wait, what?”

“Have fun, you two,” Celine waved, going back to her spot near Juniper while March tugged a frazzled December alongside him.

As the pair passed through the curtain to the locker room, December’s head swam. What did he mean by this? Was he just trying to prove a point? Was he mad at her for talking about him with others, even if she didn’t actually tell them anything?

They came to a stop, and December immediately decided to clarify, “Juniper started it…” She mentally slapped herself for sounding so childish.

March raised a brow, entirely unbothered. “You think I don’t know that?” He unclasped her hand and went to his locker, telling her as he put in the combination, “She likes to instigate. Of course she started it.”

His locker now open, March removed his shirt and tossed it in. December’s eyes widened before she averted them, trying to look anywhere but the man in front of her; and noticing this, he felt a little proud.

Deciding not to say anything about that — and wondering, was this character development? — he shifted his thoughts, scanning her fully clothed body. “So? Are you coming in or what?”

Her mouth opened and closed. She repeated the action. Pursed her lips, zoned out on nothing in particular. Then, she tied her hair up, preparing to keep it out of the water — because just as March had thought in front of the others, she figured, why not.

December went to her own locker, just two left of March’s, and began to undress too once it was open, not caring if he saw her in her underwear. She’d seen him topless at the beach a few times over the summer, and likewise, he’d seen her in a bikini. What was underwear, she thought to herself, if not a socially unacceptable bathing suit?

It wasn’t like she had anything fancy on, either: just an old grey bra with some loose threading on the left strap, and equally old black panties with lace along the top edge that had torn in several places from years of wear. She was pretty sure it had a small ribbon on the front too at some point, but it was long gone if so.

March, remembering how December responded to his brief praise the night prior, decided to mess with her a little. It was rare he had something to hold over her anymore, so he figured he might as well take the chance. 

“Atta girl,” he settled on. 

It has his desired effect — because oh gods, she did not need to hear that while they were taking their clothes off — but she hid it well. Turning away to hide her blush and grab a towel, December mumbled, “Shut up,” before wrapping the fabric around her.

She wiggled out of the rest of her garments within the confines of the lavender terry cloth, praying to the gods, the priestess, whoever was out there that it wouldn’t slip down. After a successfully completed mission, she turned back around. 

March was leaning back against the lockers, his strong arms crossed against his torso and wearing nothing but the towel tied around his waist. His hair fell slightly different without his headband holding it in place. It had a handsome messiness to it. And he hadn’t been looking at her, instead busying himself with inspecting the new plants and crystals Juniper decorated the room with for the new season; but he could practically feel the holes December’s gaze had been drilling into him while she ogled, her brain short circuiting entirely.

He smirked on the side of his face she couldn’t see before turning his head towards her, giving it away immediately. Seeing him smile made her smile, and at that sight, he immediately dropped it. 

March was still March, after all.

He nodded to the other curtain that led to the bath and started walking. December, wanting to lighten things up a bit, shouldered him to the side a smidge and walked ahead, stealing the lead. 

“Are we racing now?” March scoffed. “What is this?”

“In a bathhouse?” December looked at him over her shoulder. “I’d never do something so irresponsible.”

“Yeah? Get back here then.”

She picked up her pace to a brisk shuffle (well, more of a waddle) until she got to the cubbies where bathers could leave their towels, sandals, and whatever else they brought with them while they soaked. March couldn’t help but laugh a little while her half-assed bun threatened to evade the security of its hair tie with each bounce.

“You’re a goblin, you know.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Does it?” he questioned, unconvinced.

“Don’t know, I’m not a goblin,” the farmer quipped, then ordered, “Turn around.”

He shot her a glare before doing as he was told. Sure, he was stubborn, but he wasn’t going to violate her for the sake of it. 

Thanks to whatever salts and serums Juniper enchanted the water with, the bath had an ethereal blue glow that made it nearly impossible to see anything below the surface. It wasn’t uncommon for villagers to bathe together for this reason. Before now, though, December had rarely shared the space, and it had only ever been with other women to boot.

A few times were with Elsie, who seemed to be here so often, but she was always a delight in December’s eyes with her dramatic yet adorable love for love itself. She was happy to relax with the older woman and listen to the tales of her past suitors and scandals, whether they were true or not. The only other occasion was after completing the General Store’s upgrade: Adeline treated herself, December, Nora, and Celine all to a long soak with some face and hair masks to celebrate their hard work. She’d extended the offer to Ryis and Holt too, but they shyly declined.

The nerves were high for a moment as December kicked off her slides and unwrapped her towel, but that was quickly replaced by peace as she slipped into the water, almost immediately feeling its rejuvenating effects on her weary body. While she felt lightyears better than the previous day, it was incredibly rare for her to be fully pain-free. In Juniper’s weird, magical healing water, though, she always was. She’d live out the rest of her days on this very bench if she could.

“You’re good,” she told March once she was safely situated. 

He noticed as he turned that she’d leaned on the outer trim and kept her face in her arms so that he could join her comfortably, so he made quick work of removing his own towel to do so. 

Feeling a bit dastardly, he entered the water as gently as he could, hoping to not indicate that he was in yet. After that success, he announced his presence with a splash to December’s back and neck.

She startled at the feeling while wondering why she was being snuck up on for the second time since arriving here. It didn’t seem very fair.

She whipped around, carrying a small wave of water with her arm and sending it his way. It hit him square in the face… thus beginning a war.

They spent a solid ten minutes of their bath just splashing back and forth, trying to get the other to forfeit. Several times throughout this they forgot where they were, nearly turning the fun altercation into a wrestle that was only stopped by a single touch of skin on skin and an apologetic swear.

December’s hair tie was eventually abandoned as she felt her bun grow heavy, the hair soaked despite her best efforts to prevent that; and, taking that as a victory, March snatched it from her to put his own hair up into a tiny, pathetic ponytail directly on top of his head.

“Looks stupid,” December chided.

“You look stupid.”

She furrowed her brows and gave him another splash aimed at his eyes.

The baths were full enough to cover the body but shallow enough to stand in, so March still had a height advantage over December. That said, while the smith wiped his face with his hands, she made a move to snatch her accessory back. She was careful to keep a forearm over the center of her breasts while she lifted herself to reach it — they couldn’t be considered that large in the grand scheme, but in comparison to her small frame they were. She did her best to hide what she could.

The brief sight of so much of her porcelain skin, which glistened like dew on snowdrop anemones in the wake of their battle, obscured only by more of her skin, unlocked something carnal in March. He wanted to keep things light and fun, and assumed she did as well; but he couldn’t bring himself to bother hiding his face, which was now bright enough to rival his hair dye. 

When the farmer looked back over at her friend, she snorted out a laugh. He looked like he was keeping something at bay, with his cheeks red, forehead crinkled, brows furrowed and mouth straightened.

She was clueless. To her, it looked like he was holding in a fart.

“What are you doing?”

“N-nothing, shut up.”

She made a move to smooth his wrinkles away but was rejected with a light swat. Trying to distract himself, March made a move to poke at her face too. Rather than just pushing his hand away in return, though, December reacted quickly, biting down on the digit. 

Through the incredulous laugh that made its way out despite his best efforts, March exclaimed, “Ow?!”

He hadn’t moved his finger though, so December stood her ground. “Y’know,” she said to the best of her ability, “All y’haveta do ish take it out.” She maintained eye contact and a shit-eating grin the entire time

Deciding to fight back, March poked further in. The abrupt motion forced December’s mouth open and away while she coughed, trying not to gag at the sudden prod to her tonsils.

While reaping his rewards — the sound of the farmer’s joy (if he ignored the coughing fit he’d sent her into, at least), as well as having his finger back from the prison that was her teeth — March realized just how comfortable they’d gotten with each other. He enjoyed getting to be so silly with her. To be able to mess around and be this, for lack of a better word, stupid with her without worrying about things being strange. He’d never really had this with anyone before. He had friends, but rarely got close enough with anyone for them to break down his facade so naturally.

It was amazing, but it also worried him a little. As his companion’s struggle died down, he wasn’t sure if he felt more lucky or terrified. He couldn’t put his finger on why the idea of all this was so intimidating...

The farmer’s smile dropped upon seeing the concern that coated March’s face. “What’s up?”

He couldn’t just tell her that he felt scared by their friendship, their relationship, whatever was happening. He couldn’t possibly admit to being that goddamn cowardly, especially when she was looking at him so expectantly. With so much care.

Maybe even with love of her own.

So, he did what he does best — other than caging in his emotions behind a veil of grumpiness, that is.

He reacted physically.

While he didn’t have the ability to take out his feelings on some metal, he could kiss them aside, given that bridge had now been crossed; so the blacksmith answered wordlessly, scooping December closer to him by the back with one hand and tilting her head up with the other. He paid no mind to their bare bodies grazing beneath the water, even letting himself smile amusedly against her lips as she breathed a surprised gasp through her nose and balled her fists against his chest. 

December went through a variety of emotions. 

Was she flustered? Absolutely.

Embarrassed? The tips of her naked chest were skimming his lower ribs, of course she was embarrassed.

Confused? For sure. 

Scared? Yes, but only at the prospect of getting caught. 

But as March deepened their kiss, as December wrapped her arms around his neck, as March wrapped the hand that was on her back around to her opposite oblique to pull her completely flush to him, all of those racing thoughts fizzled away, becoming nothing but static in the back of her mind. 

The kiss was sweet. It would be easy to think of it as erotically charged, but it was gentle and passionate and full of so much love that it didn’t matter if they were undressed. They were just existing together — and happily, at that.

They pulled apart for a moment, and December could’ve melted away upon seeing the amount of care in March’s gaze. The same could be said for him. Hearts racing and minds blank, they watched each other, as if waiting to see who would make the next move, and what that next move would even be…

Unfortunately, the next move was December turning away with a yelp and submerging herself underwater to hide. The next move was March jumping slightly and walking in the opposite direction of her, running a hand through his wet hair and placing the other on his hip.

Because just as the blacksmith was going to try gathering his thoughts to put into words, the duo heard an elated gasp from none other than the romantic expert of Mistria herself. 

“Oh, I knew it was only a matter of time!” 

March rubbed his temples, his head hanging low. December began to make herself visible, the water bubbling as she slowly rose, releasing air from her nostrils. She reluctantly met Elsie’s eyes, looking like a dog who’d been caught doing something naughty, but received a wide smile rather than a scolding and finger wag in return.

They were never beating those sex allegations.

[qalanthe]

HELP I CANT STOP DRAWING CALDARUS X FARMER FANART (this is my own caldarus human design, not a leak)

[meanderingsofmistria]

Masterlist

This will be my master list for my Fields of Mistria writings!

I right mostly gender neutral farmer, but if you would like to request specific pronouns, I’d be more than happy to oblige!

I write for all bachelors and bachelorettes, as well as other npcs!

Requests are open and welcome!

Caldarus x Farmer

Dance for Joy (gn! Farmer. Fluff! When Caldarus wants to see the farmer dance, how will they react?)

[ayatosneakylink]

AH!! THIS IS SO GOOD MY FAMER IS ALSO CALLED MIMI!!

wayneradiotv voice: gubgar react to rock

(my personal design for him while we wait)