#farmer x balor

[legendsgalore]

Danger in the Deep

The farmer gets injured and collapses in the mine, who rescues them...? 6k words.

“Ah fuck fuck fuck.” You called out, too breathless to even shout, just a stream of consciousness falling from your lips at this point.

You twist in midair, trying to aim so you could come down with a sword stab on the attacking monsters, but you over judged the distance when you jumped and now are too far away. Instead you let yourself land on your feet, close to the edge of one of the water pools around you.

As you catch your balance, waving your arms a little to do so, you feel something hard *cRaCk* into your back and you gasp out in pain. It startles you enough that you topple forward and fall into the water.

“Fuc-” Splash! In you go. Instincts kick in and you fight for the surface, spluttering water as you push above.

But as you’re inhaling air, another *cRaCk* and you cry out in pain.

“Ahh! I swear, to whatever deity out there, Caldarus, or that ghost priestess lady, I will make you regret, ever, being, born!” A little breathy, but you hoped that the trio of iron ore covered rocks currently spitting more rocks at you got the idea.

They just spat more rocks at you and you dove to the side to avoid them, and hurriedly pulled yourself over the bank on the other side of the pool. You’re unsteady on your feet, barely any health left, and stumble once and nearly fall back into the water. On your feet now, you twist to dodge another rock barrage, and then turn back to look at the water, and eye the distance between the two banks.

With one nod to yourself, more for self reassurance, you hold your iron sword out to the side, run and leap over the distance. In midair you twist your shoulder to bring your sword over your head, and your other hand finds a grip on the weapon’s handle.

Just before you land in the middle of the three rocks, you release a battle cry and twist once more so that all your body weight and momentum is behind the sword, who’s point is facing downwards.

You land with an audible crunching noise into the ground, and the shockwave of force knocks all three iron rock monsters back, stunning them. Taking advantage of their momentary distraction you yank your sword out of the ground and start going to town on the nearest one.

It doesn’t even get a chance to recover from being stunned before its existence is forcibly removed by you, and you get to work on the second just as it finishes recovering.

You continue swiping your sword, even as the monster shoots another trio of rocks at you in defense, *cRaCk*, and your stubbornness wins out and it too, perishes.

Just as you catch your breath, something hard slams into your back *cRaCk* and your vision goes black for a moment in pain.

“Gah!” You can’t help but cry out, that hurt so bad.

Whirling around, you see the third monster you had somehow forgotten about. It was already gearing up to launch another barrage of rocks, those three pronged attacks that always hit you no matter how you dodged, thanks to your unfamiliarity with the pattern.

Forcing your feet to move, even when they feel so heavy like your boots were made of pure iron, you push forward and start attacking the last enemy. Once again you ignore dodging attacks in favor of just, killing it already!

You hack and swipe and stab your sword, ignoring the *cRaCk* *cRaCk* *cRaCk* as two attacks graze you, and on the third, you stab the rock into oblivion, but its last attack still nails you in the chest, causing you to stumble and fall. Your head hits the ground, and the rocks, hard.

“Ahgh!” You cry out in pain, again. You swore you might have heard something crack in you that time. Head injuries are no joke you know, but your head is so fuzzy that you can barely even think that.

You lie there for who knows how long, nausea washing up and away like the beach tide, as you breathe into the silence, wavering between holding back your whimpers and being unable to.

The Upper Mines were nothing compared to this. You were so unprepared, no armor, nothing. Three of those rock enemies who all take so many hits and just, keep, attacking.

Finally, your thoughts collect themselves enough that you realize you should probably sit up. The realization that you were so out of it that it didn’t even occur to you before scares you. You sway a lot, but you stay sitting up so you count it as a victory.

Tenderly you reach and push against your sternum where the last attack hit, and the pain is so intense it almost makes you black out.

It’s all you can do to remain sitting up for another stretch of time, but eventually your awareness comes back to you and you feel in control again. Even though you’re not pushing on your likely cracked sternum, your vision wavers and is fuzzy on the edges.

Looking around you, you note that the cavern you’re in is now empty, but the elevator is on the other side of that pool you crossed earlier.

You breathe out deeply, and wince at the fresh wave of pain that causes. Your whimper echoes in the cavern, and you shut your eyes tightly for a moment.

Gathering your willpower, you move your leaden feet again, feeling your leg muscles tremble as you stand up. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to the wave of black spots that rush your vision from the action, you eventually move to the edge of the water pool.

At the edge of the water, you debate internally whether to jump or swim, and you decide that you don’t want to risk being unable to climb back up the bank, so it’s jumping for you.

Pushing down your whimpers, you would shake your head if it didn’t hurt so much, and just force your body to move.

Taking a few steps back, you forcefully push your muscles into action, feeling strength course through your limps and pump out a few powerful steps before leaping over the water. You can’t help but smile in pride for yourself being able to do that much, and that all you need to do is head back down that hallway and then you’ll be right next to the elevator and will just be able to ride it up and out of the mines - until your vision just outright blacks out midair and your jump turns into a crashing leap.

You can’t even twist to try to land on your back, and your legs throb as you land badly, and then they go out from underneath you and you collapse in an awkward pile of limps and, again, your head hits the ground, hard.

____________________________________________________________________________

Balor is very casually leaned against the entrance of the Mines, holding a Snowdrop Anemone in his hand. He turns it over, examining the rare flora.

You had passed by him early this morning and had just simply handed him this very desirable flower. He didn’t understand you. You hadn’t put it in the shipping bin, you had apparently just found it and gave it to him because, he was there?

Your words had been “Just because you deserve it!” And that didn’t make things any clearer.

So here he was, back where he saw you that morning, pondering the meaning behind your actions. He was hoping to catch you as you came out of the Mines, no one in town had seen you since you went in and it was nearing dark, so you were bound to come out any moment.

All of a sudden, despite the summer weather, Balor felt a chill reach up his spine, as if something was permeating his body. It reached his head and before Balor could panic about the feeling he heard something on the breeze.

‘Help….mines….deepest…’

There was no way. But Balor felt that earlier chill seize his muscles and spurn him into action and before he knew it he was by the elevator inside the Mines.

“Hello! Are you there!!” Balor called out your name but there was no response.

Logic told him you should be fine, you had gone into the Mines literally everyday this past week, but that chill lingered in his bones and Balor couldn’t ignore it.

But he didn’t have a weapon and if you really were hurt, him being unarmed wouldn’t help the situation so he turned and ran out of the Mines. He needed to get a weapon.

His chest was heaving by the time he ran up to the Blacksmith’s, where he could see Olric helping March cool down the anvil and forge for the night, it was that late. They turned to look at him, and he watched as their curious but mild expressions immediately morphed into concern when they saw how hurried he was.

“Balor what’s-” Olric began but Balor spoke over him.

“Sell me a weapon now.”

March crossed his arms and frowned, stepping forward. “What for and why do you need it so desperately?”

Balor tolerated March’s prickliness because everyone knew how much he cared but the merchant felt frustration bubble up anyways, he had no time for that right now.

“The farmer is hurt in the mines and I need to go down and help her.”

The brothers’ eyes widened and they looked at each other. For a second no one said anything before they burst into action, Olric running inside shouting over his shoulder; “Gonna fetch the kit!” And March reached into the pile next to the still-cooling anvil and pulled out two swords.

His frown turns into a scowl and he thrusts the weapon at Balor, who takes it and turns to make his way to the Mines.

“Wait the fuck up, Olric is getting the first aid kit.” March calls out, his voice rough.

“Are you..coming?” Balor asks.

March scoffs, “Yeah of course we are. Olric literally worked down there he knows how to deal with all manners of problems. And I’m not just giving that to you, I want it back.”

The blacksmith nods at the weapon in Balor’s hands and he nods in return. Fair enough. But then…

“Why are you coming?”

March scowls even further somehow and holds up the sword in his hands. “Better two than one. Besides, I need to see what she’s gotten herself into this time and if she’s…”

The blacksmith’s face reddens and he makes a “tch” sound and looks to the door of the building. Balor narrows his eyes appraisingly at the redhead. Does he…?

Before the merchant can follow that train of thought Olric bursts out of the Blacksmith’s with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry! It wasn’t where it was supposed to be!” The retired Mines worker calls out.

“It’s fine let’s just go!” March falls in step with his brother as they, without pause, begin running to the Mines and Balor startles and has to catch up to the two.

It’s dark out, enough that fireflies scatter away from the trio as they run to the Mines. Balor is now convinced something is wrong because you’re usually out of the Mines by this point and you always first stop by the Blacksmith’s to make some bars out of the ore you find.

Looking at March and Olric’s faces, Balor knows the same thoughts are racing through their heads.

Heading into the ground floor of the Mines, the men stop by the elevator, and the brothers turn to look at Balor.

“What floor is she on?” March demands.

Realizing that he didn’t know for sure, Balor pauses, before remembering the chill from earlier and that message he heard. “Help…mines…deepest…”

He grips his sword harder and tells them, “She’s on the lowest floor this goes.”

March nods, and turns to his brother, “You know how to work this right? Get us down there.”

Olric hefts his backpack onto his back and says, “All right! Let’s go then!” And is the first to step onto the elevator.

Balor and March join him, and Olric remembers how to lower them so they begin heading into the darkness.

Balor hasn’t been into the Mines before, was content to just let you go and get those precious gems and such for him, and the rickety, old, wooden elevator doesn’t make him feel any better about this trip.

He catches glimpses of floors every so often, every five according to the number counter on the elevator, and they look dreary and dusty, and there are definitely plenty of monsters on them. Balor swears internally.

He on some level knew the danger the Mines posed to you, but to be confronted with it like this almost makes him feel bad for just letting you go by yourself with nothing but a “Good luck!” call.

He would try to deny caring for you as he always does, but by this point he doesn't think he can really do that. You’re his…precious business partner after all. A valued supplier.

March doesn’t swear internally though, his voice isn’t loud enough to echo but it’s still a startling departure from the silence that had only been broken by the creaking of the elevator.

“Fuck. I didn’t realize there were this many monsters down here. Olric, is this typical?” The blacksmith looks to his brother, who shakes his head.

“No, they stayed away from us, ‘cause I think there were so many of us. And we all got given weapons by Errol so even if one did show up we could handle it as a group.”

March swears again, “So that means the monsters are worse thanks to the Mines getting shut down, and she’s been by herself, against multiple enemies. Fucking-I should have said something!”

The blacksmith’s hand is white-knuckled around his sword and he shakes it once, as if he wanted to hit a table to let out his frustration but hitting the rickety elevator is not an option.

The intensity of March’s upset takes Balor aback. Of course anyone would be worried about the new farmer that has captured the heart of the town, but March has also been quite standoffish to them. The merchant’s instincts fire up inside him, something is up here.

And once more, before Balor can follow that train of thought, Olric calls out to them.

“We’re here!” Just before the elevator jerks to a halt.

The stop is sudden enough that Balor has to catch his footing before he stumbles off the shaking platform. Olric is fine, used to it, and surprisingly, March is fine too, glaring into the blueish-toned darkness as if it personally offended him.

Before the elevator stops swaying, March has leapt off the platform and stomped into the darkness. Olric joins after waiting for the platform to stabilize more, and Balor takes a glance at the floor number before following suit.

Floor 35…

From the elevator it’s a long and narrow hallway, where March takes the lead, with Olric close behind him. Balor realizes that at some point, the charge for this rescue mission was taken from him by the blacksmith, and that further piques his instincts that something is up. But this isn’t the time to wonder.

The two brothers are at ease in the caverns, Olric of course being familiar with the Mines, though perhaps not this deep, and somehow March has a confident grip on his weapon. Though he could be masking his uncertainty. Not that Balor could say anything about being out of his depth here.

He’s used a sword of course, but he hasn’t faced any real danger in a long time, not since before the earthquake when he was doing more traveling. But, he thinks back to the Snowdrop Anemone in his pocket, he would do a lot to make sure that you were safe.

The thought scares him, it crept up on him. You did in fact, somehow, despite his efforts to keep people at an arm’s length away, you had wiggled into the small group of people he cared about (aka the town of Mistria).

Perhaps that was what March was thinking through right now too. Balor peers at the blacksmith’s expression, but it’s too dark and he’s too far ahead to get a good read on him. He turns instead to Olric, who looks determined and mildly perplexed?

“Did you ever go this deep?” He asks curiously.

Olric shakes his head. “No, I didn't even, uh, know the Mines went this deep. We only mined copper ore on the upper floors, but uh, I thought the Mines ended at floor 20? I remember there being a sealed door or something…”

He trails off and Balor and his brother turn to stare at him with a weirded-out expression.

“What do you mean they didn’t go this deep? The elevator goes this far at the least and she’s down here.” March demands.

Olric furrows his eyebrows, “Yeah but the elevator stopped on the floor with the door, it was broken and didn’t go further..”

He pauses, opens his mouth, and closes it, and they all turn to stare down the hallway at where the elevator was hidden in the darkness.

“You mean she’s the one who fixed the elevator?! How would she know how, how would she know how to do it safely?! Did Errol and Eiland not consider this?!” March’s voice gets louder as the sentence goes on.

Olric looks stricken, and Balor shakes his head and puts a hand on the blacksmith’s shoulder.

“We can ask these questions later, for now I see some light up ahead.” He points down the hallway and indeed, there is a faint blue glow illuminating a turn in the path.

Breathing out deeply, March turns to continue down the path, and Balor and Olric follow. As they get to the bend, March pauses, and then cries out.

“Fuck!”

And starts running, disappearing from sight.

Balor goes to call after the blacksmith, but then he sees what caused the redhead to run. You’re on the ground, unmoving, and there is a puddle of slime around you, caused by a slime monster that is currently on top of your unconscious body.

March is already there, swinging with the sword, knocking the slime monster off. It lands a few feet away, near the edge of the water and gurgles out some sort of cry. From the water, two more monsters come up.

“Balor!” March calls out, but Balor is already in action, stabbing forward with his sword at one of the creatures.

He trusts that Olric will protect you and focuses on getting rid of these creatures.

One of them jumps a surprisingly large distance and he twists minimally to the side enough to dodge it and slashes down with his blade as it lands, the extra force causing it to bounce on the ground.

As it lays stunned, Balor stabs it a number of times until its slime form melts into the surrounding puddles.

He turns to see March do a well-executed wide slash that hits both remaining slime monsters, one of them melting like Balor’s, and the other bouncing near him. Repeating his bait-and-attack strategy from earlier, the creature is dead within no time.

Looking back at you, your head and shoulders are now rested on Olric’s knees, the man having kneeled down on the cavern floor, and he is digging in his backpack for something. March is already by your side, holding his hand out to your wrist.

“She’s got a heart rate.” March breathes out, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

Olric nods, “Yeah! That’s good, but, look at her ankle.” He has taken off one of your boots.

Balor gasps as he sees the swollen ankle. It’s nearly twice the size it should be, red splotches littering the skin, though, nothing seems to be poking out that shouldn’t be at the least.

“So you’re going to stabilize the ankle before we move her?” He asks Olric, who for all his general goofiness, is competent in field (mines) first aid.

Olric nods, but March cuts in, “Why isn’t she waking up if that’s the worst of it?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks like a mixture of about-to-cry and pissed-beyond-hell.

Olric frowns, his mouth tugging to one side as he laces back up your boots, but tighter, so that they help stabilize your ankle. “Well, we don’t know if that’s the worst of it.”

March pauses where he’s holding your wrist. “What do you mean.”

“What Olric isn’t saying is that she could be bleeding internally, or even that she hit her head when falling, plus who knows how long that slime was leeching off of her.” Balor supplies, folding his arms and holding his chin in his hands.

Olric nods “Yeah! So that’s why we need to move her as soon as I can be sure it won’t make her worse! We were always told to be careful of head injuries and anything puncturing the lungs on the inside!”

March blanches, and immediately sets his head on your sternum, with his ear pressed against it, between your breasts. Balor’s eyes widened at the blacksmith’s actions, but he sees Olric’s lack of reaction, and considers his instincts earlier. He comes to the conclusion that he is probably missing some information and also that in this situation someone was probably going to have to listen to your breathing anyways.

“It’s raspy, and almost bubbling, is that normal?” March’s voice is level, too level, and shaking.

Olric frowns, and Balor feels that chill from earlier return and settle on his shoulders, as if someone else was watching.

No one says anything for a second. March swears.

“Fuck okay we’re going.” He doesn’t say anything else and slides his hands under your unconscious form. He lifts you bridal-style, your head flopping into the nook between his shoulder and neck.

“Ah wait Olric said we shouldn’t move her until we’re sure-” Balor starts, but March cuts him off.

“I don’t care, her breathing shouldn’t sound like that and I’m not going to wait any longer to get her to Valen.”

He heads back down the hallway to the elevator, and Balor looks at Olric, who’s already started after his brother.

“You’re good with this?”

Olric shrugs as they follow March and you. “I only know basic first aid. I can’t tell anything else wrong with her, so I’m gonna follow March here.”

They are moving faster than when they came down the hallway, and make it to the elevator in no time. Wordlessly they pile on and Olric starts it up again. The ricketyness of the elevator feels worse now, feeling that every shake makes your condition worse.

March cradles your body close to his, head leaned down close to your face. He’s murmuring something Balor can’t make out. Despite carrying you for several minutes straight, March isn’t struggling in the slightest with the weight. His legs are bent so that his muscles take the brunt of the shaking, and he’s still holding you with ease.

Despite being muscled and curved from hard labor all day, you look so small curled up in the blacksmith’s arms, and Balor feels some ugly emotion curl up in his chest. He raises a hand to push on his chest with his knuckles where he feels it.

Your presence is such an enigma. You go about your day doing your own thing, but you always stop to do small talk, and often have gifts perfect for everyone out and about. Bees for Luc, handmade Lattes for Nora, an endless supply of Tulips for Adeline despite it being summer, and, gemstones for him of course.

Balor looks at the blacksmith, and wonders what you give him.

Olric is also looking at his brother, an indescribable emotion painting his face. He raises one hand and puts it on his brother’s shoulder.

“She’ll be fine March.”

“You can’t know that, her breathing…”

Olric’s hand is unmoving.

“She’s going to be fine.”

March looks up at his brother, his eyes shining. His eyes flick briefly to meet Balor’s, and then his face flushes and he looks down and to the side.

“...okay. I trust you.”

Swallowing hard, Balor looks to Olric, who is now looking at him. The older man smiles.

“I mean it, Balor. She’s going to be fine. She’s tough and Valen is a good doctor with good medicine!”

Balor feels his own face light up with heat and now it’s his turn to be looking anywhere besides Olric’s warm and confident gaze.

“Yeah, she will.” He agrees.

The rest of the ride is silent. And after reaching the ground floor, the trio head to the Clinic swiftly and wordlessly. It’s late at night, no one is out to see them and your injured state. Balor thinks you probably would want it that way.

Considering how you didn’t tell anyone the dangers of the Mines, just took them as they came, you probably wouldn’t want them to know.

He doesn’t know how he feels about that, but, looking at the two brothers, the merchant realizes that they had at least some idea of the dangers, but were like him and left mainly out of the loop. That ugly feeling seems to root itself further into his chest. He massages the area again.

Valen is, of course, not in the clinic when they walk in. No one locks their doors at night, which Balor thinks is so painfully Mistria.

March yells out when they come in, “VALEN! WE NEED YOU, IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

There’s a thud and a yelp from upstairs, and after a minute where the only thing Balor can hear is the sound of his elevated heart-rate, Valen appears from up the stairs, clad in a tank top and comfortable pants.

“March did you burn yoursel-Oh no.” Valen’s demeanor transforms once she sees the state of you in March’s arms, going from annoyed into Doctor Mode.

“Lay her down here please.” She instructs March, gesturing to a bed in the corner.

He seems to hesitate, unwilling to let you out of his arms, but after a moment he concedes, setting you down with an amount of tenderness that, before tonight, Balor would never expect to see from the blacksmith.

Valen immediately sets to work, bringing out tools to examine your state.

“Anything I should know about?”

Olric helpfully supplies, “She’s been unconscious for as long as we have found her, her ankle is messed up, I used her boot to try to secure it, and March said her breathing was raspy and bubbling when he listened!”

Valen pauses, “Her breathing? And in the position you found her, do you think it’s likely she hit her head?”

March nods leaning against the window, in what would be a casual pose if every line of his body wasn’t screaming with tension.

“Yes.”

Valen listens to your chest with her stethoscope. She looks up quickly at Olric and Balor feels the chill weigh heavier at the steel in her expression.

“Go get Juniper, Olric.”

Without question Olric runs out of the clinic. Valen continues examining you, carefully undoing the tight laces on the boot.

“Why Juniper?” Balor asks.

“She makes a lot of my tonics.” Is all Valen gives him, and the clinic falls back into silence.

Olric comes back, not quite slamming the door open, and an irate Juniper is right behind him.

“This better be important Valen beca-Oh my!” She stops in the middle of the room once she sees you, unconscious on the bed. She looks at Balor, then at March, and at Valen.

Her demeanor hardens. “What do you need?”

Valen nods “I’ll need some of that potion you tested last week, and a strong Restorative Syrup.”

Juniper frowns, “The syrup is fine, but the potion is barely tested.”

“If it works it’ll be the best thing we can give her, as all of her injuries are internal and I can’t fix those easily. She also has a bad concussion.”

Juniper wrinkles her nose but turns and heads out the clinic without argument, she calls out, “Olric come help me!” And off they go.

A beat of silence and March asks, “What are those going to do?”

Valen looks at him, as if she is mildly piqued they are still here, but tells him, “The Restorative Syrup will stimulate her natural healing to work faster, which is good in case there are any broken bones.”

Balor asks “Why not a full Healing Syrup then?”

“Because it works so fast it may heal the bones wrong.” Valen rebukes patiently.

Balor blanches, and feels the chill from earlier curl tighter around his spine.

“What about that other potion, Juniper didn’t seem confident about it.” March quizzes Valen.

But the doctor doesn’t look bothered by his tone, and just responds, “Juniper is just a perfectionist. The potion is fine, and it’s one that should boost our farmer’s natural healing factor. The Restorative Syrup only makes her healing work faster, what would take a week will take two hours, but this new potion will boost it, so that it will take only an hour.”

That’s…kind of incredible said out loud. Why has he not realized Juniper was sitting on a landmine of cash with those products here?

“But I still need to set the splint so that her ankle heals properly, and she’ll be quite unstable for a few days. No farming for sure, and definitely no wandering around for her. She’s going to need to stay in bed.”

Valen stops talking there, and Balor tilts his head, waiting for her to say more, before he realizes she’s looking between him and March. March looks like he’s in the same boat, his frown small and quirked to the side, eyebrows raised.

Valen raises her own eyebrow, and drawls out the question, “Well? Which one of you two boys is going to make sure she stays in bed? She has animals to feed and crops to tend, someone is going to have to do it for her.”

Balor meets March’s dark-colored eyes, and as he opens his mouth March is faster, saying,

“I’ll do it.”

“You have the forge, and orders to do.” The ugly feeling from earlier nestles next to the chill.

“Olric can handle them for a few days, and it’s not like I’ll be down there all day. You have to go to the neighboring city for a supply trip tomorrow, remember?”

Frowning, Balor realizes March is right. He does need to go get more supplies. Looking to Valen, who, if he didn’t know any better, would say has an amused smirk on her face, the merchant sighs.

“You’re right. March will watch her.” The last part was directed to the doctor, who merely “hmms” in response, focused on wrapping your foot.

The silence feels heavier somehow, March is looking at him strangely. Balor can feel the younger man’s inquisitive stare, but just continues looking at your unconscious face. You look so peaceful. Maybe he can leave some books on your doorstep so you’re not bored while you recover.

Juniper and Olric come back through into the clinic just then. The bathkeeper strides across the room and hands Valen two bottles. She has a self-satisfied expression on her face.

“These are good.”

Valen looks into her purple eyes and holds them for a second. Then nods.

“I know, thank you. I’ll pay you later for them, at a more reasonable hour.”

Juniper seems taken aback, and even though she is standing over Valen it’s like the doctor’s presence is looming over the younger woman.

“W-well, that is..you don’t need to. Just keeping our local farmer alive after all. No payment needed, the…renown is good enough.” She’s visibly flustered, and Balor can see faint traces of amusement in the doctor’s stoney expression.

“I’m going back to bed if that’s all you need?” Juniper looks back at Valen, and given a nod, does so.

The three men watch as Valen examines the tonics, then shifts you so you’re sitting upright with one of her steady hands behind your head. She first administers a purple one, and then a familiar green one down your throat.

Everyone stares at you for a few minutes.

Balor startles as Valen calmly reaches for her stethoscope and listens to your breathing once more. March’s eyes follow her every movement.

The doctor nods once, her expression smoothing out.

“She’ll be fine. Her breathing is clearing up.”

Balor breathed out heavily, feeling the ever-present chill finally fade away. Olric and March similarly look relieved, the former smiling, and the latter’s eyebrows having unfurrowed.

“Thanks doctor! That’s a relief!” Olric says, giving Valen a pat on the back.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but is also smiling. “You did a good job with the laces on the boot. Smarter than trying to do a splint.”

Olric looks bashful, “Ahh well, you know! It’s Errol’s doing with his first aid stuff he used to teach us!”

He looks at his younger brother, who’s still staring at you. Olric’s expression melts slightly, and Balor can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he then says,

“March I’m heading back first. I’ll set something out for you so you eat, okay?”

“..’kay.”

“Thanks doc, thanks Balor! Good night!” Balor blinks at being addressed, still in a daze of relief, mutters a goodbye, and Olric heads out, the door swinging shut behind him.

Valen addresses him and March at the same time as she says, “I will also be heading back to bed. If you remain in the clinic, be quiet, please.”

She turns to head back upstairs but March calls out, looking panicked at the thought of the doctor leaving, “Wait! Are you just going to leave her here? It’s only been a few minutes since the potions were administered!”

The older woman meets March’s heated expression. “She’ll be fine, March, I guarantee it.”

They stare at each other, before March nods. Valen smiles at him reassuringly, and the blacksmith blushes and looks down at you.

Valen turns and heads back up the stairs. Balor stares after her, licks his dry lips, and looks back at March. The blacksmith has already taken Valen’s place in the chair next to you, and the most tender-yet-conflicted expression Balor has seen is painted on his face.

His fist finds its way to his sternum again, Balor frowns at the feeling. The panic is over, can this feeling in his chest just go away please?

March reaches out, and pushes one of the locks of your hair off your face, curling it around your ear. Okay.

“I’m going to get going too, March.”

Balor waits for a response, and then turns to leave after a beat of silence. Just as he touches the door handle he hears behind him.

“Thanks, Balor.”

He meets March’s eyes. “For what.”

Something flickers over the blacksmith’s face, but he responds, “For getting someone, us, to help. For helping.”

Balor felt like he was more of an observer than anything this whole time, but he just accepts the thanks.

“It’s nothing March, just…gotta take care of one of my key suppliers, right?”

It sounds weak to him, and he doesn’t meet the blacksmith’s prying gaze.

“I’m heading out early in the morning, so I will be gone before she wakes. Take care of her for me, okay?”

Balor forces himself to smile and wink at March, who just stares at him with a neutral frown.

The night air is cool, and calming after the events. It’s different from the chill that had gripped him all night.

As Balor heads down to the inn, he ponders setting some Tesserae on the counter and just grabbing one of the beers to help him go to sleep.

[lily-alphonse]

"The Raincheck" (Balor x Farmer)

Fandom: Fields of Mistria

Content: F/M

Rating: Mature (Mild sexual content and lewd jokes)

Words: 2,887

“How would you like to visit inside my wagon?” “Inside?” Ben asked, eyes widening. “That seems like quite the privilege.” “Yes, well,” he looked down, tracing the grain of his counter with his finger. “I'm finding there isn't much I want to keep from you, in truth.”

@aug-kissed Aug-Kissed Week 3: Using Tongue. Things are heating up between farmer Bené and Balor...

>> Read on AO3<<

This is the sequel to last week's Balor fic! You can check out part 1 HERE

Im obsessed with these pixels, help

[minthe-drawings]

This is how I imagined they crossed the bridge✨

[tatatasoma]

[inc0gnitoo]

GUYS..

fields of mistria.

…

post requests rn. i love this man so much.

[shiny-kaibernyte]

I have wanted to write for Fields of Mistria since i first spoke to this colourful characters. It honestly has become my comfort game and i have fallen for this blue haired Merchant. March is my number one, but Balor deserves love to people! Also i refer to Juniper as Plum and Eiland as Peach once in this story as irl i kept forgetting they're names so i just called them that because of their hair colour.

No warnings unless you think cheesy flirting is one

An Apple Heart | Balor x Reader

“My my, this is a surprise, Good morning!” Balor’s calm voice called out from the town stairs, making you practically jump out of his skin as you back away from the merchant's cart. His eager smile and soft wave met your startled gaze from atop the stairs. After waking up earlier than normal this morning, you decided to go walk around the town before everyone else awoke for the day. Although you never actually made it to those stone steps, something on Balor’s cart had caught your eye. 

“Balor! Good morning! I wasn't going to steal anything! I was only looking, I swear!” Your mild panic and hands waving in front of you only caused the merchant to chuckle, walking to your side.

“Well that's such a shame… And here I thought you came to steal my heart.” Balor’s voice flirted, taking your hand into his as he gently kissed it. “Although… you already have my dear.” “KYAAHHHH” A loud scream erupted from your chest as you pulled your hand away like a kid touching something gross. Balor’s chuckle turned into an eruption of laughter at how surprised you were. 

“That was not the reaction I was going for but I will take it. That was so cute!” Laughter only continues to increase through his quick paced words. Your own face only grew redder and redder the more he laughed, to be honest it was hard to tell if he was laughing at what just happened or the fact he started tripping on his feet that was making him laugh. 

“Balor! What was that for? Since when did you openly flirt with people?” A questioning suspicion laced your voice as you managed to gain your composure.

“Oh I'm sorry, that is unlike me.” He is still lightly laughing as he’s coming down from whatever laughing fit just erupted from him. Taking a deep breath to relax, the merchant straightened up and dusted off the side of his poncho before usual smile returned. “I apologise for startling you, Juniper and Eiland decided to give flirting tips at the Inn last night. I was unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle, they uh… this is embarrassing… They won’t let me back into the Inn until I give them a report on which of they’re flirting styles works better.”

“Wait wait wait… So they are actually keeping you out of the Inn just because of this flirt battle they’re having?” The curious cat in you is only poking him for more details.

“They actually got Reina and her whole family to stop me from entering the Inn until I give them my ‘findings’. Which is both a blessing and a curse it would seem.” A finger pressed against his chin as he leans against his cart, pondering his next few words.

You only raised an eyebrow to him, tilting your head like a puppy. “Blessing and a curse?”

“As much as i really don’t want to get back to those Dragons and Drama’s. My late night drink is something I would prefer to keep on a Friday.” A mild scoff escapes his lips as he thinks about the D&D game Eiland dragged him into. In Fact that same game is how this whole flirting debacle happened. Juniper may not be in the game but she can hear everything that goes on from her seat at the bar. And it was during their last game that Eiland decided to have the group roll for a persuasion check on a group of women to ‘flirt’ they’re way through a city’s borders. Or something to that effect Balor wasn’t exactly paying attention. Wasn't until Juniper was suddenly pulling him into her side with her arm on his shoulder whilst Eiland tried to move her away that he was suddenly aware of what was happening.

Now it’s your turn to laugh and Balor’s face to turn a perfect ruby red. “So! You mean to tell me, "You… got caught in a flirting battle between Peach and Plum Because of Dragon’s and Drama!?”

“Yes…” Balor only looked away rubbing the back of his neck before chuckling himself. “Eiland thinks the more honest approach works… That was my attempt at Juniper’s style. And from your reaction I'm going to agree with Eiland.”

“Well I'm not a very good observer, Balor. You would need to use almost everyone in town to get a valid result.” Pondering for a moment you began thinking how everyone else would react to what he did. Sure it was sweet and forward, but it’s also very unlike him, hence why you were startled.

“What if I don't want to do that with others?” Your thinking stopped like a deer in headlights, blinking confused at him, an almost comedic heh escaping your lips as you stared at him. “I was on my way to my cart to retrieve something… for you actually and well here you are.”

“For me…? Balor, what are you getting at?” Question after question ran through your head as he continued on

“When this whole situation happened I honestly dreaded it. I’m not one to openly flirt with someone unless I have genuine appreciation and trust for them. Then I realised… this dumb pickle I've gotten myself in gave me the perfect excuse to give you this…” He moved around his cart and reached inside, shuffling through his wares for a moment before pulling something out. It was shiny from what you could tell. “I had Hayden grow this for me… Celine and I worked together to preserve this so it would rot away before I had a chance to give it to you. Here.”

Turning around in one swift motion, he showed you what he had hidden to his chest, An Apple? In the shape of a heart, it was shiny from being encased in a crystal resin-like substance, making it almost look like a crystal apple. That was what you spotted earlier that lured you here. Was Mistria pulling her thread to lead the both of you here? 

Reaching out for your hand, he gently pulled you towards him, the back of your hand laying in the palm of his as he placed the gift gently in your hand. Never once letting go of your hand as he made eye-contact with you. All you saw was love. “I may not be able to grow flowers, crops or anything really… but I can sell them in a heartbeat. Sometimes I wish for something I can allow my heart to keep… What I'm asking is. Will you accept this gift as a sign of my love and admiration for you?”

“Balor…” The warmest smile painted your face as you gratefully accepted this gift, holding it tightly to his chest with one hand as you moved your free hand to his shoulder. Placing a soft kiss to his cheek before smiling again, “Maybe use this as your report to Juniper.”

Not far away from you watching from the stone steps was none other than Eiland and Juniper, standing side by side with smug grins. Juniper’s hand on her hip, a victorious smile on her face, Eiland leaning on the wall to watch the new couple. High-fiving quietly as they walked away from the scene, going unseen the entire time. Mission successful.

[fieldsofwriting]

Hi hi!! I was scrolling through and found your stuff really cute, and this game has literally taken over my mind since EA launch. If you haven't already, could you please write for Valen, Eiland, and Balor? With the prompt of, say, they see you pretty beaten up from a day down at the mines, and they try to care for you? OR if you're feeling down, they take notice and try to give you a comfort food? Take your pick, I'm sorry this is a pretty long ask 😅 -🍓🧋

You’re all good!! I decided to go with the farmer being beaten up in the mines! But once requests open back up, let me know if you want the other one!

But HC’s under the cut!

Valen:

- Given the fact that she is the doctor? She gives you a look every time you come in with a scrape or a bruise.

- “Y/N. I thought we agreed for you to get better armor if you insist on going through the mines.”

- She still patches you up though, and if you’re dating she gives you a kiss durning the ones that especially sting before going, “That’s what you get for being reckless.”

- She’d also walk you home and make you some food before getting you tucked into bed.

- In the morning you have a health tonic next to you with a little note telling you to take a sip if you feel achy.

- No matter how many times you go down in the mines and get scrapped up, she’s always there to take care you. <3

Eiland:

- If he sees you all scrapped up? He feels AWFUL. He’s the one who pushed for the mines to be opened and now you’re hurt!

- He’d fuss over you so much. Like a little mother hen. He doesn’t let you lift a finger after you get home from seeing Valen- because yes. He makes you go to Valen.

- He would also debate on closing the mines, but after you assure him that it dramatic and you will be fine once you get an armor upgrade and a sword upgrade.

- Conveniently. The next time you go to the blacksmith, March is shoving a full suit of armor in your arms and a new sword.

- Eiland hears none of your protests and just asks you to be safe.

- …and begrudgingly it’s really nice armor so you take it.

Balor:

- He sees you covered in bruises and scrapes as you run past his cart at midnight to get home on time.

- At first he doesn’t do anything because it’s your prerogative…but damn it he really likes you so he needs to make sure you’re alive.

- The next morning he wakes up early to get over to you. He’s got bandages and some disinfectant to make sure you stay unharmed.

- He doesn’t let you get a word in, just telling you to show him the wounds so he can help.

- He would make it his mission to get some more ore from his contacts and commission March to make you a better sword.

A/N: Sorry thier kinda short! I didn’t know what else to add really! But like I said once requests open back up let me know if you want me expand!

[summer-nights19]

Good for business part 1 - A New Farmer in Town

Balor x fem reader (Fields of Mistria)

Blurb: It was only supposed to be a business partnership with a few benefits. After all, you were both ambitious and seeking to make names for yourselves ... so how did you get here ? You didn't know, and part of you refused to care.

Genre: slowburn

This fanfic will mostly follow the plot of the game and include some lines from it

Part 2

You sighed as you stumbled your way through the woods. According to your map, you were almost there. Honestly, it had been a gamble - after finishing your studies, you hadn't found any work opportunities in your hometown, so, after reading that a little town called Mistria was looking for a farmer and offering free land after being hit by a pretty bad earthquake, you'd quickly written to Adeline to make your interest known. However, it had meant leaving everything you knew behind, a realisation that was dawning closer on you as you neared what used to be a stone bridge but was now floating rubble.

You were so deep in own your own thoughts that you didn't realise when you walked straight into something hard and solid. A wall ? No. You took a few steps back and looked up, slowly coming back down to earth. Before you stood the most attractive man you'd ever seen. He was tall and well built without being too buff; his hair was blue and reached his shoulders. You inhaled and looked up into his eyes, which were a dark, rich brown. Before you could apologise for walking into him, he spoke up, the hint of a smirk creeping on his face.

"Hey ! Didn't expect to find anyone else here. The roads have been a mess since the earthquake. I'm Balor, a travelling merchant. Pleased to meet you. You're here at Lady Adeline's request ? She mentioned someone had taken her up on her offer," he winked at you, and you felt the heat rise to your face

"Yeah, there was something about free land and a house... gotta put food on the table somehow," you were being honest, but you suddenly worried your answer might sound selfish. Balor kept smiling at you, seemingly unfazed.

"It's a lovely spot. Quite close to town. I'll walk with you if you don't mind the company,"

You gave him a smile of your own.

"Great, let's go !"

Balor jumped across the broken bridge and you tried to follow suit, slipping and landing on some rubble in the process. He extended his hand, and, after a bit of hesitation, you took it. It was warm and considerably larger than yours, with a few scars on the knuckles. You wondered where they came from and felt your stomach tighten into knots. He pulled you up letting go of your hand after you found your footing again. You mourned the loss of contact more than you were willing to admit.

"We should be able to make it before it gets dark. Come on, we'll head straight to your new farmstead," Balor started walking down the path after shooting you another grin. You followed him, still slightly flustered.

***

A couple of hours had passed since Balor had left you with Eiland at your farm. After he and Adeline had shown you how everything worked, they'd left too, leaving you alone to unpack your stuff. Not that there was much to unpack - you'd only brought some clothes and a few of your favourite books from home, which you'd packed up in the chest. The smart thing to do would have been starting on the farm work - the land was overgrown and unkempt, so it needed a little maintenance- but after 12 hours of travel, you could only bring yourself to light the fireplace and lie down on your worn mattress. Before falling asleep, you thought back to flowing blue locks, confident smirks, shining brown eyes and scarred knuckles. A sleepy smile started forming on your face.

Maybe you'd be just fine here.

Masterlist

[pancake-poett]

-- fields of mistria masterlist ᡣ𐭩 .ᐟ

♡ all/multiple romanceable characters (headcanons, etc) :

nothing here yet!

♡ the women :

nothing here yet!

♡ the men :

nothing here yet!

[yeehawbvby]

When the Moon Fell in Love With the Sun | Ch. 2

March x F!Farmer

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventual smut)

Chapter Summary: March and the farmer get shitfaced together.

Author's Note: I had an absolute blast writing this one hehehe. Enjoy some drunk March!!

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

After a long day of hammering silver, and after stopping home for a quick body rinse, some pain meds, and a less sweaty set of clothes, December headed over to the inn. 

She didn’t care much for dressing up, so her outfits tended to be more or less of the following: boots, jeans or shorts, a tank top, and unless it was summer, a jacket. Whether she was farming, mining, or going to the inn, she looked no different. The closest she got to being “trendy” in her own way was to accessorize and/or keep to a consistent palette, with a wardrobe mostly consisting of blues, blacks, whites and silvers. 

For tonight, she kept her hair in the ponytail she’d tied it into earlier; wore a black denim jacket, its back covered in patches she’d collected while traveling — be it for snowboarding, for the guild, or for leisure; a black camisole tucked into dark, ripped jeans; a silver chain, which she conjoined the belt loops on her right side with; and the same black combat boots she typically donned.

As expected, December was met past the Sleeping Dragon’s doors with the majority of the town’s residents. It wasn’t a Friday gathering, but going to the inn for soup and drinks on rainy or snowy days seemed to be the norm in Mistria. It was an unspoken tradition that she had grown fond of, and she drank in the sight of everyone having fun and hanging out while hooking her jacket up near the entrance.

Well, almost everyone. Olric and March were talking business with Eiland and Adeline, if the paperwork strewn across their table was anything to go by, so she figured she’d chill out at the bar before going to pester the brothers. 

After putting in a request with Hemlock to surprise her with something fruity, she was engulfed by two slim arms and an overwhelmingly floral scent.

“Hey!” December smiled, twisting in her seat to hug the source. She was one of her first and closest friends in town.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here!” Celine beamed back. 

She took the open seat next to December and practically asked for the same thing from Hemlock, making it a point to grab Jo and Reina’s attention and greet them too. December waved at the chefs, chuckling when they both flashed toothy smiles back at her.

Hemlock placed down the girls’ identical drinks as the interaction finished off. “Enjoy,” he winked at them before moving onto the next resident.

December sighed wistfully as she gazed into the bright blue, bubbly liquid. “He’s gonna kill me one of these days,” she muttered under her breath. 

Sure, her heart was somewhat (entirely) set on March, but it didn’t stop her from feeling immensely frazzled by the bartender. He was just so cool…

Celine giggled at the farmer’s state, but spared her a comment. She understood it completely: she’d once told December that, as kids, she would put on her fanciest dresses and have her mom braid her hair whenever Reina invited her to hang out at the inn, just because of the crush she had on their friend’s father. It lingered until her teenage years.

“Where were you today?” she asked. “I didn’t see you running around and getting stuff done like you usually do.”

When people described her that way, December imagined that they just saw her as a little dog, zipping through the streets to fetch things for treats... it wasn’t entirely wrong, she supposed.

Her beverage was just bordering on too sweet, but she liked it, and let it fully trickle down before she answered Celine. “Spent the day at the forge.”

“I’m surprised you could stand it for that long.” Celine winced while she took a sip from her own cup. After a moment of visible contemplation, she slid it towards December. “Don’t you hate it there?”

December shrugged, “Just the smithing part. The guys make it entertaining.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Celine mused, having recently become fully knowledgeable of December’s feelings for the redhead. She wiggled her eyebrows and rested her cheek in her palm.

“Oh gods.”

“You’re not denying it.”

December rubbed the inner corners of her eyes. “Stop talking.”

“I probably have some flowers you can bring him next time…”

Embarrassed that she knew March doesn’t actually like flowers, December simply continued, “Please stop talking?”

The blonde snickered, gratefully accepting a replacement drink in the form of red wine from Hemlock. She hadn’t even ordered one yet. “He’s good,” she breathed, watching him leave. 

It was at that moment that December began to think Celine’s crush on the innkeeper hadn’t entirely gone away.

Smiling at the thought, she suggested, “The best in Aldaria, perhaps?”

“Why are you talking about me?” March asked, appearing behind them. All the seats were taken, so he simply leaned against the counter between December and Terithia, who was deep in conversation with Landen.

December groaned. “Big head.”

Celine nodded, teasing, “The biggest.”

“It’s not that big.”

“Sure, physically, but metaphorically…” December trailed off, shrugging with a shit-eating look on her face.

March nudged her with his elbow, deadpanning as the farmer grinned. She returned the gesture before turning to face Celine on her other side. 

She looked smug, like she had something to say.

December narrowed her eyes at her.

“You can take my spot, March,” Celine told the blacksmith. Her gaze stayed on December’s while she spoke, “I think I heard Juni calling me from upstairs.”

December’s mouth gaped for a moment at the blatant lie before prodding, “Oh, did she?”

Celine dodged the question with a light pat to her friend’s head. “See you later!” 

Traitor…

“I didn’t hear it,” March concurred as he swapped spots with the florist.

“Maybe your ears suck.”

“You didn’t either, smartass.”

“Yeah, whatever.” December peered down at the two drinks before her. “Want this?” she asked, sliding Celine’s abandoned one toward him.

“What is it?”

December shrugged, making a noise in place of an “I don’t know.” She took a sip before concluding, “It’s real sweet, though.”

Ignoring the urge to taste it from her lips, and silently cursing himself for even thinking about that, March took up the offer, drowning his feelings by downing the glass.

December’s mouth hung open again. “What the fuck?” she laughed, gobsmacked.

March grunted in approval. “That’s good. Oi, Hemlock,” he called out from across the bar. 

The man reappeared from somewhere beneath the counter, an empty cup in hand. “Yeah?” he responded on his way over.

“What’s this called?” he asked, snatching December’s drink — while she was going for another sip, no less — and holding it up.

Hemlock laughed at the interaction before shrugging and telling him, “Don’t know yet,” then nodded to December, “This snow angel was my test dummy.”

The snow angel silently cursed him for warming her cheeks with that nickname. March noticed it and felt a smidge of jealousy. 

“You want one?” Hemlock offered.

“Two, please.” 

“Why do y—“ December stopped her train of thought when March took a sip from her cup, glaring at her over the rim of the glass. She heard Hemlock laugh as he walked away. 

___

It took less than an hour for the pair to be plastered, with December being just as much of a lightweight as March. They’d relocated to a table — March sat at the head, with December and Ryis on one side, and Olric and Balor across from them — but kept their focus mainly on each other.

Most recently, it was in the form of an arm wrestle.

Fairly tipsy himself, Ryis began treating it far too seriously. While December stretched her hands and shoulders, she took in his pep talk from beside her. 

“I think you can— no,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “I know you can win this.” Whether he believed it or not, he and December were both unsure, but it didn’t stop him from doing his best to encourage the farmer. 

“I can win this,” she reaffirmed, her brows furrowed and eyes swimming with determination. 

“You are crazy strong,” he kept going.

“I am crazy strong.”

“You are powerful.”

“I am… kinda power—“

“Hey, hey,” he grabbed her by both shoulders now, pressing his forehead to hers to really drive the point home, “you are powerful!” 

With a determined huff, and after grabbing his shoulders too, she nodded. 

“Why don’t I get a cool pep talk?” March asked nobody in particular. “Is it ‘cause you all know I’m gonna win anyway?”

December let go of Ryis and turned away to stare daggers at March. He narrowed his eyes right back until Olric cut in, “I believe in you, bro!” 

March’s fiery gaze darted to the blue-haired merchant. “You’re awfully quiet, Balor.”

“Can’t I just enjoy the show?” 

December’s scowl shifted to him, too. He was unfazed, only grinning in return.

“Alright, alright,” March started, “alright.” He lightly nudged December’s shoulder with his fingertips. “Alright?”

“Alright,” December held back a giggle as she spoke, nodding curtly.

“Alright.”

March took his position at the very edge of his seat and with his elbow on the corner of the table, with December doing the same before clasping her palm with his. Their knees touched in the middle, and even with the wood between them, there was plenty of open area.

December knew after being reminded just how large and thick March’s hands were — those things were like damn clubs, probably thanks to his work — that she was doomed to fail. Even if she could manage to out-muscle him some other way, the sheer weight of his grip would probably ruin this for her. 

She did her best to ignore that, though, and put on the silliest, cockiest face she could manage while she locked onto the blacksmith’s eyes.

March wanted to just win this already — gods, he needed to win — but broke at the sight of his opponent’s expression, snorting and leaning the side of his head onto their tangled forearms. 

“Can— pfft— can you take this seriously, sir?”

March shook his head before sitting back up to the best of his ability. “Your face!”

The farmer played dumb. “What about it?” 

“You just—“ March barked out a quick laugh before imitating December. 

It broke her immediately. Her cackling only made March laugh harder, and they both keeled over, bumping heads in the process.

“Ow!” they exclaimed simultaneously, only worsening the situation. 

When their eyes met just a few inches apart, both pairs were filled with tears, and noticing that forced a second wind. December tried to blink away the wetness on her eyelashes, completely folding in on herself before March draped his upper body over hers.

It was weird, she thought even in her drunken haze, feeling the rumble of his laughter through her back.

It felt cozy.

She ignored that. “Ha! Get off me, dude!”

While March and December continued their bickering and laughing, seemingly forgetting the other three were there, their tablemates simply watched on, laughing to themselves.

“It’ll never stop being strange, seeing them like this…” Balor observed. While his face only housed his usual lopsided grin, with no more than a dignified chuckle leaving his throat, he was thoroughly amused by the sight before him.

“Right?” Olric beamed, “They’re both so nonchalant, usually.”

“Well, she is,” Ryis agreed while pointing his thumb at the girl next to him. “I don’t know if I would call an angry gremlin ‘nonchalant.’”

“Hey!” March sat up, having sensed the others talking about him. He kept his forearm in December’s back, holding her down while she hopelessly tried to bat it away, and pointed over her, getting the digit as close to Ryis as he could manage. “Who are you calling a gremlin?”

“You, dumbass!” December answered in the carpenter’s place, her shout thoroughly muffled by her thigh. Ryis nodded into his next sip of beer before nearly spitting it out as March noogied the woman’s spine. “Ow— ow, quit it!” 

She managed to reach March’s oblique, tickling him in hopes that it would trigger the end of her suffering. As fun as this was, it did hurt. He had no idea that December had been through what she had, though, so she couldn’t exactly blame him for not knowing she was a bit fragile. 

“Fuck!” March yelped, his laughter ramping back up while he scrambled away. He would have fallen out of his seat if Olric wasn’t so quick to hoist him upright.

Just a table away, Luc, Maple and Dell gasped and giggled at the smith’s choice language, and were now thoroughly invested in his and December’s antics.

“Are they fighting?!” Dell asked Ryis, who she was closest to, all too excitedly.

“Sure, something like that,” he laughed, ruffling the young lady’s hair.

“She should use a sword.” Dell stood up onto her seat, removed her own from her pocket, and began waving it through the air at nobody in particular. “That’ll show‘im!”

Luc sighed. “If only I could give her some bugs to unleash on him…”

“Why can’t you?” Maple asked her brother.

“They’re probably sleeping! I already said goodnight to them.”

“I declare you awaken them at once!”

“No, they need their rest!” Dell interjected, pointing her stick — sorry, her sword at Maple. “If they’re gonna be part of the Dragonguard someday, they need to be strong and healthy.”

“You dare defy your queen?” Maple giggled, standing up and slamming her palms to the table, sloshing some of her milkshake over the side of its glass. 

Luc placed his chin on his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no…”

Back at the other table, March and December were finally winding down and beginning their battle. 

“Wait,” December asked, squeezing his hand as if it was going to leave. “What are the stakes?”

“Fuck if I know.” He flashed her a goofy smile. “I just wanna beat you.”

After swallowing a hiccup, she groaned. “So it’s just bragging rights?”

Olric, determined to play matchmaker, practically felt the lightbulb turn on in his otherwise rock-filled head. “Why doesn’t the loser walk the winner home?”

“That’s so far, though…” 

“So you admit defeat, then?” March prodded. 

December practically growled. “Fat chance!”

With that, their tussle had finally begun… and was over just as quickly as it started.

“Best two out of three,” December insisted. 

March was about to happily take the crown, but her big, sad eyes — a result of her fatally wounded pride — convinced him to go a little easy on her. 

He never thought he’d see the day where he was willing to give up a win just for someone else’s sake. Neither did the others. The three of them shared a knowing look.

“Fine,” the redhead sighed. “Round two, come on.” He wiggled his fingers, prompting December back into position.

She shot his hand a dirty look that made him giggle. “Eugh,” she reacted, taking hold of it anyway. “Don’t do that, y’little creep.”

“What, you can’t handle a little finger action?” March winked. 

The realization hit him like a train.

Oh no.

He dropped his shit-eating grin and froze, his eyes wide; December’s immediately followed suit, her cheeks and ears darkening several few shades beyond what the alcohol could ever achieve on its own; and beside them, all three men’s mouths hung open. Then, December averted her view and yelped an explosive laugh into her free palm, hiding her face to the best of her ability while her opposite hand clutched March’s with white knuckles. 

“Wait, wait,” March scrambled, laughter bubbling in his throat while his eyes darted between the four people around him, “hold on—“

Olric was the first to respond verbally, an incredulous smile on his lips. “Wow!”

Ryis tried to react, but was doubled over in a near-silent fit of laughter. 

This stole Dell’s attention again, and while she didn’t know what was going on, she patted the man on the back in a poor attempt at comforting him. It was her sworn duty as Mistria’s future best knight ever, after all. Through broken giggles, he thanked her, but politely redirected her attention back to her friends.

“On that note,” Balor announced, “good luck and goodnight,” before retiring upstairs.

[nightmarecrowsclaw]

God Fields of Mystria has my heart.

I really want some of my farmer × bachlors roleplay so bad.

If anyone is down for lovestores feel free to message me.

The characters I like to be matched with my farmer is.

Eiland

March

Balor

I'll also be willing to rp all of the above characters for these ships!

March × Ryis

Eiland x Balor

Juniper x Valen

For some extra context my farmer character is rather shy at first and slowly becomes a bit cocky in time. They have a mysterious vibe around them as they wear a hat that hides their face and generally keeps their body well hidden.

[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?)

[lily-alphonse]

"Treasured" (Balor x F Farmer)

Fandom: Fields of Mistria

Content: F/M

Rating: Explicit (Graphic sexual content)

Words: 8,748

Balor was avoiding Ben. The man had the gall to give her one of his rings. To kiss her and call her beautiful and hold her like she mattered, and then avoid her like she didn’t.

Ben is going to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is happening with Balor.

>>Read on AO3<<

There's arguing, there's hurt/comfort, and hot hot smut. Please reblog if you enjoy! :)

[minthe-drawings]

Guess who's at green heart💚

[kmsssh]

freaky???!?! sketch( Balor x Farmer)

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[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

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.