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degendame · 5 months ago

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What Went Wrong?

Chapter One

Chapter 2 Here Rating: Explicit (for later content)

Category: F/M

Relationships: Female Farmer/March

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance

Word Count: 5639

Mistria's newest resident, Sylvan, has comfortably settled into her life in the small town. Having had a hand in every project to restore and improve Mistria, she's gained the townsfolk's respect, including that of the distrustful and cold blacksmith. Their friendship has developed over time, but March's insecurities and jealous tendencies bubble up, leading to hurt feelings as Sylvan sets off into the mines.

Later that same day, March discovers her collapsed in the rain just outside town, seriously injured, leading him to feel immense guilt and wonder what went wrong?

The chilly fall air blew through the forge, carrying dried leaves across the anvil and tousling March’s hair, a welcome contrast to the heat of the forge he had been working all morning. He rolled his shoulders, working out some of the tension from leaning over the anvil while he observed the order form Adeline had given him this morning.

He had finished the brackets that were required, he could finish the nails today as well, work on fasteners tomorrow, and be able to turn it all in tomorrow evening. March grinned to himself, she probably wasn't expecting a two-day turn around, but of course he could deliver.

“You look pleased with yourself.” an amused tone cut through his thoughts.

He jumped a little, but quickly regained his composure, “There’s a lot to be pleased with.” he said, gesturing broadly to himself with a smug grin.

Sylvan, Mistria’s newest resident, snorted at his ego, rolling her eyes. It had been a few seasons since she arrived, and the work she’s been putting into the community is evident all over her body. Her skin took on a slight tan over the summer, and although it was fading as winter approached, the tone still brought attention to the scars that littered her arms; some were faded and older from her time as an adventurer in the guild before she took up residence in Mistria, others still pink or white and fresh from her many expeditions into the local mines as of late. She had toned up quite a bit as well, she mentioned before that despite being an adventurer, she didn’t do as much consistent labour as she did now, mostly only functioning as support for groups that needed it in order to make ends meet, and she was pleased to be really getting into shape now.

She was wearing a dingy brown short-sleeved shirt despite the chill in the air, and a pair of beat up trousers as opposed to crisp shirts and jeans or skirts she usually wore, her normally loose jade hair was tied up, and held back from her face with a red checkered bandana she often wore. “You going to the mines?” he asked.

“Yup, I need some ore, Adeline asked me to make some ingots for a project she’s lining up.” she replied, holding up a parchment with details of the request, “I was just stopping by to let you know I was heading down there.”

“Why? I’m not your babysitter.” March sneered, why wasn’t he asked to source ingots? He’s the blacksmith. He could feel the warm rush of envy course through his body.

However, his head immediately cooled when he saw her face fall into a frown, clearly taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. “Just figured someone should know where I am in case something happens.” she said shortly, making an effort to hide just how hurt she felt, “sorry to bother you.”

He opened his mouth to say something as she turned on her heel and took off toward the narrows, but his words failed him. When she was out of sight, he kicked a bucket over, “Shit!” he spat, frustration and shame washing over him.

He was angry with himself, it had been months and while he had been harsh and standoffish to her in the beginning, thinking she would jump ship at the first opportunity, he’s come to realize she’s really in it for the good of Mistria. She’s had a direct hand in every project to rebuild and improve Mistria since she arrived, and he has watched her run herself ragged to the point he could no longer doubt her intentions.

Through it all, she put up with his attitude and showed him genuine kindness and grace. He began to warm up to her quicker than he wanted to admit, her occasional retorts to his snappy remarks were something he grew to enjoy, she took him as he was and delivered comebacks with a smile, even when all he could do was glare. His demeanour has softened over time though, often holding casual, pleasant conversations, or even asking how her day was.

Some townsfolk have begun to make quips about him falling for her. He was always quick to dismiss the rumours, but he couldn’t deny the way his eyes would linger on her as she passed by, the way his voice would soften towards her when they were alone, or how sometimes he had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

Either way, it has been a long time since he made snide remarks about wanting to be left alone, and because of that she probably felt they were at least on friendly terms by now, and they were as far as March was concerned; but his stupid ego and jealousy just had to rear its ugly head as soon as she mentioned Adeline relying on her to procure ingots related to the development of Mistria.

“Obviously she would do that” his mind chastised him as he mentally kicked himself. She already had him working on an order, so it would be smart to assign the task to someone who not only can source their own ore but has also received lessons from March himself, but his insecurity sits heavy in his chest and he went and said the wrong thing again.

With a heavy sigh, he returned to his work, resolving to try to make it up to her and not make an ass of himself again when they were both less busy.

~~ — ~~

She had been both incredibly unlucky and incredibly lucky today.

The chill of the night air bit her skin, aiding her in keeping her consciousness from slipping away as she stumbled through the entrance to the mine. Her breathing was ragged and adrenaline still flooded her bloodstream, she had made the unfortunate discovery today that creatures from lower in the mines had made their way up higher, causing some areas to be densely populated with a variety of monsters, some of which she had never encountered before.

Her body was battered, bruised and bloody, and with her mana entirely depleted there was fuck all she could do about it. She had managed to wrap a particularly bad puncture wound on her calf with some material she tore from her trousers, but she was unable to assess any other injuries, her head was swimming, her vision hazy and her balance was off, in part due to the number of rocks she had flung at her head, but also likely due to the pain that shot up her legs no matter what leg she put weight on.

The only reason she survived was because a stray chunk of iron launched at her by a clod had hit her square in the sternum and knocked her down a crevice, the fall doing more damage to her already beaten body, but also landing her right beside the elevator shaft on the next level down that she was lucky she had already encountered and got working beforehand, enabling her to escape.

I just have to make it to the clinic. She urged herself, forcing her body to move. She wasn’t quite sure how late it was, but she felt pretty certain most of the townsfolk were in bed.

She awkwardly shuffled and limped her way across the narrows toward town, every movement making her body scream out in pain, she moved at a snail's pace and just as she cleared the narrows and made it to the outskirts of town, it began to rain. The rain soaked her already chilled skin and made her shiver violently, it made it even harder to move, and she could feel her consciousness slipping, she began to lose hope that she would make it much farther…

As she began idly hoping someone would find her quickly after she passed out, she heard the distinct clash of hammer on metal cutting through the static sound of the downpour, March was still working.

She tried to call out to him, but her voice came out weak and hoarse. She continued to limp her way toward the road that marked the edge of town, knees threatening to buckle and her vision closing in around her. “Just a few more meters…” she desperately urged herself, but as she dragged her foot across the gravelly road, her toe caught a stone and sent her painfully crashing into the dirt with a dull thud. A searing pain ripped across her side, lighting her body up with pain signals that racked her brain, she definitely just made a wound much worse.

She heard a voice, but the ringing in her ears made it unintelligible. She struggled to lift her head towards it and though her eyes would not focus through the haze and rain, she recognized the familiar mop of crimson hair rushing toward her. Waves of relief crashed through her body at that moment, washing away the last remnants of adrenaline and plunging her into darkness.

~~ — ~~

March had made more progress on the order than he thought he would have today. He figured mostly due to the fact that his encounter with Sylvan this morning made him put his nose to the grindstone to ward off his guilt. Having made all the nails and about half of the fasteners that needed to be done, he checked the time, noting it was just after midnight. He resolved to finish a few more before turning in for the night, knowing full well he was going to have a hard time sleeping anyway, and glad to be in a location where working late into the night wouldn’t disturb anyone except Olric, who slept through practically anything.

The rhythm he fell into as he brought his hammer down on the hot metal was therapeutic, maintaining focus and control helped him clear his head. Using his tongs to bend the piece into shape, he lifted the piece to check that the bend was even, but as he brought it eye-level he watched as a drop landed upon it, fizzling away with a hiss. March paused and looked to the sky as the rain began to ramp up, he decided he should just finish the other piece he had prepped and then call it a night.

Hurrying to work was harder to maintain the zen focus he was trying to achieve, needing to stop to reheat the metal more often as the rain cooled it faster than he wanted. As he ceased hammering to bring it back to the forge, March swore he could hear a strange voice cutting through the rain.

He paused, straining to listen through the downpour and pinpoint its location, and then– *thud*. The sound came from the direction of the narrows, and the feeling that something was wrong gripped him. Unease settled in his gut as he set his work on the anvil and rounded the wall that separated his property from the wooded area at the edge of town.

His eyes immediately fell on the distinct pattern of a familiar red bandana, “Sylvan?” He called out to her, she was on the ground a few meters from the edge of town, at the sound of his voice she weakly lifted her head to look up toward him. His legs were in motion before he could think to move.

He was at her side in an instant, but she had already lost consciousness. He fell to his knees, throwing his smithing gloves off, not caring where they landed. “Sylvan!” panic set into his voice as he gently rolled her over, in the dim light that managed to reach from the village he could see she didn’t stir, he pressed his fingers to her neck to find her pulse, and although he found it, it was weak and her skin was so cold under his fingers.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed to himself, his mind was bombarded with emotions, guilt and worry palpable in his chest, “What happened to you?” the question fell from his mouth despite knowing he would receive no response. Gingerly, he lifted her, and cradled her to his chest in an effort to stabilize her and provide her some warmth as he hurried to the clinic.

He attempted to keep a low impact trot despite his panic screaming at him to hurry, trying to maintain a semblance of speed while also trying not to shake her too much, he had no idea exactly how bad her injuries were and didn’t want to worsen her condition.

As he made his way through town, the lights allowed him a much better look at her visible wounds, there was almost no part of her arms or face that weren’t marred with gashes and bruises; he could assume the parts of her that were hidden under her clothes were just as bad, if not worse. He was concerned to notice her breaths come out rough and shallow and how pale she had become.

It didn’t make sense, she had been down there countless times and though there were times she would get banged up, it was never this bad. As far as March knew, the creatures in the mines were all fairly minor, what changed that would put her in this state?

He paused at the door to the clinic just enough to get a grip on the door handle and rushed inside, “Valen!” he cried out, “We have an emergency!”

He heard the commotion of her scrambling upstairs before she emerged, clearly having just woken up but already alert, “March! What’s wro–” she began, before her eyes settled on Sylvan in his arms, “Oh gods! Lay her on the examination table, I’ll go prep to tend to her!” she instructed before she rushed back out of sight.

He gently set her on the table, she let out a weak groan and he hoped that was a good sign. In the light of the clinic, he could see just how bad the variety of wounds that peppered her skin were.

He looked around the room in an attempt to keep his nerves calm, and caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall past the exam table. He was soaked from the rain and covered in mud, but what disturbed him the most was the blood, her blood.

The sight could have made his heart stop; his forearms had some scattered smears from the way he had carried her, but what shocked him the most was the dark crimson stain that spread across his chest where her side had been pressed to his body. He looked at her and confirmed, she had bled through her shirt as he carried her, had he reopened the wound when he moved her? His blood ran cold at the thought.

His mind began to spiral as guilt put his heart in a vice grip, but he was snapped out of his thoughts by Valen, who rushed down the stairs and to her side, getting to work at checking her vitals and assessing the damage.

“I think her side is bleeding badly.” March managed, his mouth was dry, and his eyes were locked on her side.

Valen gave him a quick look of sympathy, acknowledging his shocked state and the blood that stained his shirt. She rounded the table, March kept close but out of her way, as she reached for shears and began to cut Sylvan’s clothes from her body. Normally, March would avert his eyes to spare Sylvan's dignity, but at the moment he felt so numb that the situation didn’t even register. Under her shirt she was, as he expected, completely covered in bruises, some were an angry reddish purple while others took on blue and black colouring, various cuts and scrapes peppered her skin, and along her side was a large gash that made him clench his fists anxiously.

“Thankfully,” Valen started, taking a moment to turn to March, “This wound was given enough pressure to begin clotting and isn’t actively bleeding anymore.” She cast a pointed glance to the stain on his shirt, “You did good, March.” He felt some relief in knowing he had aided her in some way.

Valen continued, “However, it will need stitches.” she sighed, concern painting her face, March’s stomach did flips as she began to list off a summary of injuries, “She’s also got quite a few broken ribs, a puncture wound on her right leg, multiple minor lesions, both ankles are sprained, her left shoulder is partially dislocated and she’s likely got a concussion…”

She paused looking at March, he felt his heart in his throat as she looked confused before she continued, “But despite all the factors, she’s relatively stable. Which is honestly nothing short of a miracle given the damage to her body.”

March just nodded numbly, not daring to feel relief, as Valen stood and made her way to the corner of the room. His eyes stayed fixated on the slow, shallow rising and falling of Sylvan’s chest to keep him grounded.

“I’m just going to retrieve some elixirs from storage, they should expedite the healing process while keeping her stable, but we may need something stronger…” she trailed off, casting a glance to her patient on the table before she disappeared down the trap door.

Aside from the rough breaths from Sylvan and the muffled sounds of Valen rummaging beneath him, the stillness of the room was stifling. He stepped closer to the exam table, watching Sylvan's face, she was so still she would have almost looked peaceful, if not for the smattering of dirt, blood and bruising that littered her features. He reached for her and gently swiped some dried dirt away that was near her eye, then trailed his hand along the outside of her arm in a tender caress before gently taking her hand in his for a moment. The chill clinging to her skin and the way her fingers just sat limply in his hand made his eyes prickle with tears. The realization that he had been so stupid to avoid his feelings for her stung, the pain only made worse by the fact their last exchange had ended so bitterly.

Suddenly, the door to the clinic slammed open, startling him and making him retract his hand, ripping his attention away from the sorry state of his personal affairs.

“March!” it was Olric, “It’s late and you didn’t come inside, so I went to look for you and I found your gloves by a patch of bloody dirt on the gravel path outside town!” the words tumbled from his mouth at lightning speed, he opened his mouth to speak again but seemed to finally notice the state March was in, eyes flicking to the dark patch on his shirt before darting to the table where Sylvan lay.

March’s throat felt tight as he tried to speak, “I’m sorry, I–” he was cut off as Olric swiftly crossed the room and captured him in a strong embrace, one hand holding his head to his shoulder as his other firmly stroked his back, March allowed himself to return the hug.

“You don’t have to explain.” he said simply, his voice emanating concern and soft understanding, a few moments passed then he gave March a tighter squeeze before letting go. For once, March actually lamented the loss of contact.

Creaking hinges alerted both men to the presence of Valen re-entering from the basement, carrying with her 3 vials, all a similar muddy pinkish red with subtle differences in hue.

“Ah, Olric.” She greeted him as she approached, “I was about to suggest March go at least leave you a letter while I tend to our friend here so you wouldn’t worry should he not return before you wake up, but I see we were too late.” Her voice held a practised, casual tone, but there was still an underlying bite of concern that she couldn’t quite hide.

She made her way back to Sylvan’s bedside, re-checking her vitals to confirm her condition remained the same. “It’s odd,” she spoke as she began preparing a tray of tools for suturing, “with the state she is in, her vitals should be all over the place, in cases like this things like blood pressure, pulse and breathing should fluctuate.”

She set the tray on a cart beside the bed, pulling up a stool she situated herself to get ready to start working, her brow furrowed in confusion, “her vitals aren’t healthy, but they aren’t life-threatening, and they’re staying almost too steady… it’s as if something is keeping her that way.”

March watched Valen pour a sterilizing solution on the wound on Sylvan's side as contemplated her words. He was about to speak, but Olric beat him to it, “is that…a good thing?”

Valen sighed as she threaded a needle, “I’m not sure… As it stands right now, I believe it’s what has kept her alive, but I have no idea what the cause is.” She turned to them, a worried look crossed her features, “there’s no telling what the effects will be, it seems like some outside force is keeping her vitals in equilibrium, but I don’t know if it will cease once her body is no longer in danger.”

March’s brain struggled to keep up, slowly putting pieces together through the fog brought on from his stress and exhaustion. He watched Valen work diligently, applying stitches with calculated grace that spoke to her skill. He felt his body tense when what she was avoiding saying clicked into place, “So you’re saying if her vitals just stay this way, she won’t recover?”

She didn’t look up from her task but was quick to respond, “I can’t say for certain that is what will happen, only that if her vitals are stagnated like this, she won’t get worse, but she won’t get better either.” She began to wrap up the sutures as she continued, “I’m sorry to have alarmed you, that was not a prognosis, I am just as confused as you are in this case.” As she snipped the thread, she turned to March, this time looking right into his eyes, “prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.”

March felt Olric’s hand on his shoulder as she tidied up, and began checking her over again. He felt himself sway in place and he realized just how long he’s been on his feet with all of his muscles tensed.

Having felt the way he faltered, Olric pulled over a chair and offered him a seat, March gave him a thankful nod and noticed how tight his brother was clenching his jaw, as well as his tense shoulders and fists balled at his sides.

Olric noticed March’s assessment of him and relaxed his face into a gentle smile, “have a seat bro, I’m just worried too, but she’ll pull through, we both know she’s tough”

March could sense the uncertainty in his voice but was thankful nonetheless, as he sat down and some of his muscles relaxed a wave of exhaustion hit him hard enough he felt as if he suddenly aged 10 years. He glanced at Valen who was checking over Sylvan, applying pressure to different areas of her chest, looking absolutely perplexed.

“What’s wrong?” March asked, anxiety thrumming through his system anew.

“I-it’s her ribs…” her utter confusion making her trip over her words, she looked up to March, wide-eyed, “many of them have already healed… I don’t just mean that they’ve begun healing, they’re completely healed!”

The brothers exchanged confused and hopeful looks, before March spoke up, “but that’s good though, right?” His voice hesitant.

“Well… yes. Them being healed is good overall, however, the situation with her vitals still perplexing and will require monitoring.” She began to rummage around as she continued, “March, are you going home tonight? If you are concerned, you may stay here in the other bed.” she finished, having dug up a couple of large basins and some towels.

Olric placed his hand on March’s shoulder, “you should stay if it will make you feel better. I’m forcing you to take the day off tomorrow anyway.” He said sternly, “I’ll tell Adeline what happened.”

March stared at Sylvan for a moment before nodding, exhaustion overtaking his ability to speak at that moment.

“Okay,” Valen started, her voice warm, “I’m going to administer the elixirs, tend to her other injuries, and then get her washed up and into a gown if you would like to go get anything from home.”

March stood and moved toward the door, but Olric stopped him, “you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go sit on the bed and I’ll grab you some clean clothes from home.”

“Yeah, okay.” March managed, his brother patted him on the back and turned him toward the bed before heading out the door.

March sat staring at the floor ahead of him with his hands folded in his lap, his brain slowly processing the events of the day, the quiet sounds of Valen filling the basins filling the silence. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear her approach until she was right in front of him, presenting a basin of clean warm water and a couple towels to him.

“Please feel free to clean yourself up, March.” her tone was gentle, acknowledging he was going through a lot at the moment, “I figured you may be too tired to climb into a bath, but this would be better than nothing.”

It was hard for him to find his voice, he desperately wanted to be alone, but also didn’t dare to leave until he knew Sylvan would be alright, “thank you.” He said, voice gravelly and hoarse. Valen smiled warmly before pulling the privacy screen across for him and returning to her patient.

As March stripped down to his boxers the feeling of his shirt peeling from his chest made his skin crawl, he avoided looking down, not wanting the image of his skin tinted with Sylvan’s blood to permeate his mind. He slowly got to work scrubbing his body with the dampened towel, his body was on autopilot, his movements almost robotic, but freshening up a bit felt nice.

He wrapped up quickly and sat back down on the bed, piling his dirty clothes on a chair by the bed and opting to wait in his underwear for Olric to return with his change of clothes. He could hear the sound of trickling water as Valen worked at washing up Sylvan on the other side of the privacy screens. He found himself crossing his fingers as he hoped she would make a quick recovery.

The door to the clinic opened and a moment later Olric was peeking around the privacy screen at March, silently he held up two bottles of beer, and March felt the warmth of his brother's caring gesture wash over him.

Olric set a bag down on the floor by the bed, before pulling a small parchment wrapped parcel out of it and handing it to March, who unwrapped it to find a sandwich his brother had made for him.

“Thanks, Olric.” He said, his voice thick with appreciation, he hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until now, and immediately dug in.

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Olric stated, pulling a bottle opener out of his pocket and popping the top off of each of the bottles he held in his one hand, passing one to March then sitting on the bed next to him.

They sat in silence for a moment while March finished his sandwich, occasionally stopping to wash it down with some beer. Once he was finished, he bunched up the parchment and set it aside on the table beside the bed.

“I have no idea what happened to her,” he started, “well, I mean, I have some idea, she was in the mines, so obviously something happened there… but what went so wrong?” he chugged back the last of his beer as he finished his thought, feeling the alcohol take just a bit of the edge off his nerves.

“Well,” Olric’s voice was pensive, “when I worked the mines there were practically no creatures to speak of, but from what Sylvan said they’re everywhere now. Sure, they’re all small and weak from what she’s seen so far, but there’s no telling what lies deeper.”

March sighed, “you’re probably right.” He said, pausing to contemplate how naive he had been to assume the safety level of the mines would remain the same throughout. “When I found her, she had collapsed just outside of town, she must have made it all the way there from the mines.”

He felt his guilt bubble up in his chest anew as he continued, “She stopped by to tell me she was going down there, she wanted someone to know in case something happened… I told her I wasn’t her babysitter and upset her… I should have gone and checked when it got late.”

Olric slung an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug. “You’ll just have to apologize to her when she wakes up.” He said optimistically.

“But what if she doesn’t?” March couldn’t stop his voice from cracking, his eyes beginning to sting as distress settled in around him, “She’s so beaten up, what if something happens and she’s gone? The last thing I did for her was dismiss her because I was stupid and jealous!”

“March.” The level tone in Olric’s voice brought him back to his senses somewhat, “I understand this is really hard and scary and you feel guilty. But you know she isn’t going to hold that against you, and you don’t know that she isn’t going to get better. It isn’t going to do you any good to wear yourself down with what if’s. Besides, you heard Valen, her body is somehow healing itself rapidly, that has to count for something.”

March was silent for a moment, before he let out a tired sigh, “I hope you’re right.” He stood, rummaging through the bag and digging out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt Olric packed for him to sleep in, he quickly got dressed before turning to his brother again, “Thank you, Olric, for everything tonight.”

“No problem, bro. I’m always here for you.” Olric replied as he got to his feet, “I’ll head home and get some sleep, so I can let Adeline know what’s up first thing tomorrow. Try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll try.” March replied, exhaustion pounded through every fibre of his being but worry still overrode it heavily, he wondered if he would even get to sleep at all tonight.

Olric gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning and heading for the door. March sat back down on the bed and listened for sound in the clinic that would hint at what was going on.

“March?” Valen’s voice startled him.

“Yeah?” He replied, a little louder than he intended.

Valen appeared from behind the screen, “She’s doing well, all things considered, I relocated her shoulder, wrapped her ankles up and got all her wounds disinfected and bandaged. She seems to be responding well to the elixirs and remarkably all of her ribs are healed, some of the minor scrapes and bruises healed while I was tending to her as well.”

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “it’s completely outside my scope of expertise, but it seems to be a positive overall, I’ll ask Juniper to come have a look at her tomorrow, it seems like something that she would be more acquainted with. Try to get some rest tonight, I will do the same.”

March nodded, “Thanks for all the help, Valen.”

She seemed a little taken aback by the appreciation from the usually cold man, “I’m just doing my job, it’s no problem.”

She grabbed the basin from beside the bed, and March heard her empty it before she retired to her room to rest. March laid down, staring at the ceiling and hoping for his exhaustion to take hold and put him to sleep, as the minutes passed by he found that the eerie silence of the clinic didn’t help the unease that still clung to him.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet, resolving to pace around for a bit to try and wear down his nerves but finding his feet carried him right to Sylvan's bedside. Her breathing was no longer as rough as it was before, but it was no less shallow, he guessed that was the work of whatever force was at work here. She was wearing a medical gown and Valen had tucked her in up to her waist with her arms over top of the blanket, her skin was clean with noticeably fewer bruises, and bandages wrapped around her in various locations just as Valen had mentioned.

He reached out and gently brushed her hair away from her face, his fingertips lingering on her cheek, some of the colour had returned to her face and she didn’t feel as cold anymore. He hoped that whatever force was at play here was on her side.

He quietly moved a chair over to her bed, taking a seat and leaning forward, crossing his arms on the bed in front of him. He reached his hand out to rest against her side, and he was able to barely feel the beat of her heart through the slow expanding and contracting of her rib cage on the back of his hand. He rested his head on his arms and it wasn’t long before he was plunged into an exhausted, fitful sleep.

#fields of mistria #march fields of mistria #march fom #fanfiction #fanfic #since i got some interest i decided to post here before i get my ao3 account #I'll crosspost here and ao3 once i can #5k words is alot for a chapter but i live for drama :V #what took the longest to post this was going through and re-reading everything to make sure it was cohesive lmao #i took some liberties with medical issues for the drama so its probably not super accurate but i tried to at least keep it semi-believable

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