degendame

[degendame]

What Went Wrong?

Chapter Three

Chapters / 1 / 2 / 3

Rating: Explicit (for later content) Category: F/M Relationships: Female Farmer/March Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance

~~ 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? ~~

Sylvan didn't know how much time passed before she felt herself enter a state of semi-consciousness. She was aware of a dull ache across the entirety of her body, and the passing of time as she drifted through the limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

She remained in this state for a long while, but eventually began to regain sensation across her body slowly, the dull ache becoming more prominent. The warm air and sterile smell of the clinic settled in around her; she felt thirsty, however, to her surprise her throat didn’t feel particularly dry, and she was just as surprised to find she didn’t feel very hungry either.

She willed herself to open her eyes, she found it difficult, but she managed to pry them open, blearily blinking away the haze that remained in her mind. Her eyes scanned the room, she kept her movement to a minimum, her body still feeling incredibly stiff and sore. 

The bed she was in was adjusted so she was propped up, almost sitting. It was still dark out, and based on how quiet it was around her, it must have been very late at night. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting cast into the clinic by the full moon over Mistria. She made out the shapes of the privacy curtains that surrounded her bed, she then became acutely aware of a soft snoring, coupled with a warm weight to her right side, and her eyes fell on familiar red locks.

March was asleep at her bedside, resting his head on his one arm while his other was outstretched, wedged under her own, with the back of his hand resting against her ribs. His face was turned toward her, she stifled a giggle as she noticed he was drooling a little in his sleep. He looked peaceful in his slumber, a much gentler expression than he normally wore graced his features, making him appear a fair bit more boyish than usual. 

She smiled to herself at how endearing he seemed at that moment. Gently, she lifted her hand, feeling a bit of protest from her stiff muscles, and began to gently rake her fingers through his hair in small, soft strokes in an effort to not wake him. She heard a quiet groan escape him, but he didn’t stir. Contented with her efforts, she leaned her head back against the bed and looked at the ceiling, not quite ready to close her eyes again just yet. To pass time she began to hum, soft and low, a tune she often hummed to herself as she worked, as she listened to March’s slow breathing.

~~---~~

March felt himself being slowly roused from his slumber, gently coming to his senses as he felt a soothing hand gliding through his hair, a gentle song made its way to his ears as he slowly worked his eyes open. He sat up, feeling the hand move from his head as the song silenced, he brought his hand up to wipe his mouth as he got his bearings, cringing at the fact he had been drooling in his sleep.

In the darkness he could make out familiar azure eyes, regarding him warmly, and realization rocketed through his body like a bolt of lightning to his spine.

He shot up, almost knocking his chair over in the process, “Y-you’re awake!” Shock and relief mixed with embarrassment as the vulnerable state he was just in dawned on him, making his voice crack and resonate a touch louder than the environment they were in called for.

She chuckled a little, “March, if you’re too loud you’re going to wake Valen.”

He was taken aback by her casual approach to the situation, he lowered his voice, but a frantic tone remained, “Don’t you need her? Do you feel okay? What happened to you? Do you remember anything? Do you–”

He cut himself off when she raised her hand and screwed her eyes shut, furrowing her brow. “I’m sorry, March. I know you must be freaking out right now, but I’m still not quite adjusted yet.” She looked at him sympathetically, “I’m going to need you to take a breath and slow down. I’m fine.”

March observed her incredulously, “By all accounts, you fuckin’ shouldn’t be…” He retorted in a lowered tone, but did as he was told, taking a steadying breath before he tried again, “do you need anything?”

She paused for a moment, a soft smile gracing her features, before she spoke, “I could use some water.” 

Without hesitation, March grabbed the pitcher and poured her a glass of water, handing it to her before pouring himself a glass as well.

She smiled at him appreciatively, then downed the glass greedily. March stared at her, bewildered, before silently setting down his glass to fill hers again and hand it back to her. She took it sheepishly, slowly sipping it this time.

He sat back down with his glass, “I guess you would be thirsty after being out for a full day.”

“I was out for a day?” She asked, a thoughtful look crossing her face, “It feels longer.”

“Just a little over 24 hours…” March said, looking at the time, noting it was four in the morning, “Sylvan, just what the fuck happened to you? You were just completely battered from head to toe! I wasn’t sure if you…” he let his voice trail off, unwilling to finish the statement.

She looked at him apologetically, “I’m sorry I made you worry, March.” She took a slow, steadying breath, sitting up to set her glass aside before settling back again, staring into the middle distance as she spoke, “Something happened down in the mines and monsters from the lower levels have moved higher up. There were some areas just crawling with them… I wasn’t prepared…”

March watched her hand move to her side, clutching at the spot where her most prominent wound was the night prior. “Does it still hurt?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m kind of sore and stiff all over, but some places more than others.”

“You were–” his voice hitched as he recalled the horrific state she was in, “you were just covered in bruises and– and blood…” he paused and peered at her cautiously, “you had so many broken bones, you hit your head, there was no way you didn’t have a concussion… how did you get better so fast?”

She shrugged, but he caught a glimpse of something that crossed her face, “I couldn’t tell you… things are fuzzy.” She was a terrible liar, he could tell she was omitting something, but decided not to press further for now.

 “I had to fight hard to make it out of there…” she continued, he watched her eyes unfocus and her brows furrow as she seemed to recall some events from down in the mines. He let the quiet settle between them, allowing her some time to process, until she met his eyes again, “Did I have my sword on me?”

He needed a moment to think back to when he found her, he set his own glass aside, feeling discomfort crawl up his back as he recalled the scene, “No…” he replied.

“It must still be down there, I’ll have to make a new one before I go back down.” 

He stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded by the sudden shift in her demeanour, she looked so upset just thinking about it a moment ago, surely she wasn’t seriously planning another expedition anytime soon? 

“Just how soon are you planning on going back down there?” he inquired cautiously.

“As soon as I’m back on my feet.” She replied simply.

He felt immediately floored, “Why?” frustration and anxiety licked its way up his spine, “They didn’t kill you the first time, might as well let them try again?”

Irritation flickered to her face as she scoffed, “No, March. Please do recall I am the town adventurer, I’m the only one in town that is suited to handle such a task. I have to go back down there.” her expression hardened as she regarded him sternly, “There is a fault down in the mines that is allowing more powerful monsters closer to the surface. What are we going to do if they get out? Someone will get hurt!”

“So you’re going to rush back down there alone?!” March’s anger was bubbling up, his voice pitched up, “You could at least wait for Adeline to call in some reinforcements from the Capital, or something!”

“That could take weeks!” she cried, her frustration peaking to match his own, “if the missive ever actually gets answered. It needs to be stopped as soon as possible! Eroll and Eiland are always passing the mines to go to the dig site, and gods forbid the kids be in the narrows when something gets out!” 

Her eyes bored into his, he saw stubborn conviction and her will to protect written plainly on her face; although, he could feel her underlying fear and apprehension for the situation as well. Her courage to act in the face of adversity was something he admired when it wasn’t causing her to rush headlong into danger to get herself killed. 

“Please, March.” She pleaded, “Let me do my job.”

“Your job description is farmer here, not adventurer! But you’re so eager to risk your life anyway!” He was fuming, but it faltered when he watched her wince at his words.

Her voice wavered, it was clear she didn’t like the prospect either, but was unable to find another solution, “I have to do this.” she reiterated, “How would you feel if Olric got hurt because this wasn’t taken care of soon enough?”

His frustration rekindled at what he perceived to be a guilt tactic, an irritated groan escaped him, “How do you think I would feel if you went traipsing back down there and got hurt…again?!” 

Sylvan felt her ears get hot, her heart thrumming in her chest as his stubbornness prodded at the last of her frayed nerves, she didn’t want to do this any more than he wanted her to, she was scared, but there was no other way. Both of her fists clenched, balling the blankets up and sending dull pain across her tensed muscles. Irritation, fear, and her own feelings of helplessness reached a fever pitch.

 “I don’t know March, How would you feel?!” she spat, “you didn’t seem to give a damn the last time I told you I was going down!” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, they both froze. Realizing what she just said, Sylvan’s hands shot up to cover her mouth, shame and guilt overtaking her like a tidal wave, despite still feeling a little hurt at their previous interaction, she didn’t mean what she just said, at all. She looked at March, still covering her mouth. 

He couldn’t look at her, his gaze cast aside as his face contorted into a pained expression, his shoulders tensed as his arms crossed over his chest, hands gripping his arms so tight she could see his fingernails digging into the skin, she had never seen him look so hurt.

“Oh gods! March I-” she started.

March cut her off, “No. You’re right.” he stated, his voice straining against the thick clump of emotion in his throat, his shoulders slumped as he leaned back in the chair bringing his hands to his face, he took a shuddering breath.

“No, March. That wasn’t right, it was entirely uncalled-for. There is no possible way you could have known what was going to happen.” she sighed, waves of remorse continued to wash over her as she racked her brain for the right words to say.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but March spoke up, “But it’s always a possibility, I know it's not safe down there–” 

“March.” She interrupted him sternly, silencing him, “That doesn’t matter, what I said was actually fucking terrible, and I didn’t mean it.” Finally, he looked at her, and she held his gaze, she needed him to understand, “I don’t know what all you’ve been through while I’ve been in here, but I do know I woke up in the middle of the night with you sleeping, slouched forward in a chair at my bedside. I can assume you have probably beaten yourself up over it enough already.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure what to say as cloying contrition trapped his words in his throat. She continued, “The bottom line is, what’s done is done, neither one of us can take back what was said, and we’ve hurt each other. But I can tell you regret what you said, probably about as much as I regret what I just said… I just–” she took a moment to centre herself, “I’m so sorry, March. That was not fair to you.”

Silence settled between them, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling pensively, and March took the opportunity to let his nerves settle. He quietly observed her, in the muted light being cast into the clinic from the now rising sun filtering through the overcast sky, he could see the exhaustion that settled into her features in spite of her time spent unconscious; her tired eyes strained to stay open as if her lids were too heavy to hold up, dark bags were carved out under them, and she still looked a touch too pale, her lips were slightly chapped and her breathing, although much more lively than just an hour prior, still seemed almost too shallow. It was clear that whatever divine intervention played a part in her recovery was unable to fully heal her.

Her head lulled toward him, catching him looking, he was honestly too tired to attempt to avert his gaze or pretend he wasn’t just staring at her. Their eyes locked and behind the haze of fatigue, he could see restlessness, anxiety and a steeled determination.

“I have to do it.” her voice was low as she repeated the sentiment again, her eyes held his gaze and there was a moment's pause between them as her words, along with all the resolve and apprehension behind them, sunk in.

“I know.” he replied finally.

March felt unease and frustration settle in his gut, realizing he would not be able to talk her down from this. He stared into her eyes and replayed the last day in his mind, his worry, fear, and guilt crawled over his body. He wanted to treat her better, he wanted to be on her side, but he didn’t want to have to go through that again. The logical part of his brain knew she was right, it did need to be handled fast, but it was such a huge risk.

“If you go, I’m going with you.” The words fell from his mouth as fast as they came to mind.

He could practically see the hard reset that occurred in her brain at those words. She stared at him, mouth agape for a short moment, before she stammered, “W-wha– March. No.”

“Yes.”

His stubborn defiance made her face heat up, “What the fuck? Absolutely not.”

“And why not?” He challenged her.

“It’s too dangerous!” She threw her hands in the air in irritation as she spoke, her tone incredulous, “What do you mean, why not!?” 

“You’re right, it is dangerous! Too dangerous for you to be diving in alone!” He remained stubborn. “I can swing a sword. I can go with you.” 

She stared at him, her eyes flicking between his, searching for his sensibility. She did not find it.

“March, I–” she began to protest again, but was cut off.

“No, Sylvan!” March raised his voice again, as he shut her down, “What? Do you expect me to just sit idly by while you go and get yourself actually killed this time?” 

Stunned into silence, she didn’t answer, he continued, “Do you have any idea how scary it was to find you, beaten and broken in the mud outside town, not knowing if you were even going to pull through?” pangs of guilt clenched Sylvan’s heart as she watched the wild way his eyes flicked around and how his hands shook as he spoke, his voice coming out shaky from his heart hammering against his rib cage.

Their eyes met and his burned into hers, his voice quieted, but remained just as unsteady, “Do you have any clue how horrifying it was to see myself covered in blood??? Your blood?” he shuddered, remembering the feeling of the fabric peeling from his skin, his hand clutched the front of his shirt in the same place.

She stared in stunned silence, her hand reached to the side where she felt the pain before. She pulled the gown up to run her fingers along the skin, and felt an angry, raised scar under her fingers, still sutured and still sore despite the healing magic she helped perform. Her eyes flicked to where he was still holding his shirt, and she put the pieces together in her mind. He saw tears begin to well in her eyes and averted his gaze, moving his hand to rest on his anxiously bouncing knee.

She removed the blanket from her lower half and swung her legs over the side of the bed, getting to her feet despite protests from her aching body. However, having spent the last 24 hours injured in a hospital bed, her legs were unsteady, and her balance wavered, March jumped to his feet to catch her.

“Hey, what are you–” he began, but fell silent when he felt Sylvan’s arms snake around him, squeezing him tightly.

Stunned, he stood still for a moment, unsure what to do, until he saw her shoulders shake as small, muffled sobs escaped her. He held her back tightly, his one hand moving up to smooth down her hair. Between the traumatic experience of almost dying in the mines and the raw emotional turmoil bouncing between them, she completely unravelled and broke down.

“I’m sorry.” she sputtered out, “I’m sorry…” she repeated, over and over. 

He felt his chest tighten, feeling bad that things had gotten so heated so soon after she had finally woken up. “ ‘s okay,” he mumbled awkwardly, “you don’t have to apologize, I just don't want all of that to happen again…”

A few quiet minutes passed, the lingering silence only permeated by her quiet sobs until she began to settle. He held her closely, rubbing small circles in her back, the same way Olric always used to when he was young and would get upset.

Eventually she pulled away, moving to sit on the edge of her bed, when she looked up at him her eyes were red and puffy, she looked so vulnerable it made his heart squeeze.

“I was scared down there…” she began, her shoulders slumped as she spoke barely above a whisper, “There were so many monsters, some I had never even encountered before. I wasn’t prepared to go deeper than the fifteenth level, didn’t even bother to bring armour, and I certainly didn’t know how to handle them… Made too many missteps…” March stayed standing, cemented in place, as he listened intently, “I had been put to the ground more times than I could count, hit in the head, cut up, beat up… I couldn't get my bearings long enough to try to remember which floor I was on or how to get to the elevator shaft.”

She paused, taking a shuddering breath as she crossed her arms and shrank into herself. She looked so small; a stark contrast compared to the adventurer who was ready to throw herself back down there mere moments ago. March quietly took a seat beside her on the edge of the bed, she leaned into him, their shoulders touching. He found solace in the warmth of her skin, and quietly hoped he was helping her feel grounded in some way.

The contact did in fact seem to provide the support she needed to continue, her voice gained just a little more confidence as she pressed on, “It was sheer dumb luck I managed to find the lift. I was hit hard and knocked down a crevice and fell to a lower level, right beside the lift. It was a panel I had already got up and working again too. Which was good because I hit my head pretty hard when I fell and at that point I couldn't see straight…” 

She turned to look at him, she saw the way his eyes flicked over her as if still scanning for unattended injuries, his apparent worry for her was reflected in his physical state. In reality, it hadn’t been that long since she had last seen him, yet his eyes had already taken on deep creases and dark circles; his shoulders held obvious tension, and his usual strong and straight posture gave way to a tired slouch that made his joints pop in protest every time he moved.

Silence settled between them again, March was uncertain of whether she was waiting for him to speak or trying to find her own words. He was too busy trying not to think about the way she was currently scanning over him with a concerned expression on her face to think of anything to say. 

Eventually she spoke again, this time her tone was lighter,  “It might be kind of stupid, but I was so worried about how guilty you would feel after our exchange before I left.” she paused when his head snapped to stare at her, offering a small smile to his bewildered expression, and nudging him playfully in an attempt to ease some of the more palpable negativity in the air, “I didn’t want to up and die on you after that.”

March allowed himself a small, dry chuckle, partially over amusement at Ryis being correct in his assumptions, “Well, you were right.” he sighed, leaning back on his hands and staring at the ceiling as he spoke, “I felt pretty fuckin’ guilty. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself for having fucked up again that I just kept working…” he glanced at her, she was nervously picking at her nails as she listened, “I didn’t even think to check on you once it had gotten late, and I’m still pissed at myself for that…” 

Frustration bubbled up in his chest anew as he sat back up, leaning forward with his arms folded across his knees. He glared at the ground as he continued, “It was exactly what you had asked me for, and I dismissed you, and look what happened…”

A warm hand on his shoulder immediately abated his raising temper, “For all you knew, I was avoiding you and took the long way home…” he stayed quiet, she watched the muscle at the corner of his jaw tense over and over, “You know I wouldn’t hold that against you.” she offered quietly.

He heaved another sigh, his shoulders falling before he spoke, “Yeah, and that makes me even more pissed at myself…”

“Old habits die hard.” she said, patting his shoulder with an amused lilt to her tone, “I don’t want you to beat yourself up over it, I’m no stranger to your tendencies March, I know more about you and how you work than you probably want me to know.” she laughed warmly.

They sat silently for a long while after that, faint whispers of sunlight beginning to peek through the cloud covering were offering a warm light to the still and silent clinic room. There were no sounds save for their slow, steady breathing as they both thought over the extensive words they had just shared. They felt quite tired from the emotional exchanges –things hadn’t been that tense between them since the star festival– That, coupled with their respective stress and recovery, they both felt as if the last couple of days had lasted an eternity.

“March…” Sylvan suddenly broke the silence, making March jump a little, she snickered before she continued, “You know, the bath house is probably open now. No offence, but you look like shit, and honestly I think you deserve a good long soak.”

He shot her a glare that had no real bite to it, “Is this your way of saying I stink?”

She laughed, “I mean… kind of. You reek of man sweat, how long has it been since you bathed?” she pinched her nose shut and animatedly waved her hand in front of her face. 

He shoved her playfully, feigning offence, knowing full well she was probably right that he didn’t smell great, “Fine,” he scoffed, “I’ll go once Valen gets up and comes to check on you.”

“Good.” she said, grinning smugly at him. 

She leaned forward to retrieve her bag off the floor where it has sat since she was admitted. It was still streaked with dust and some light smatterings of dried blood, March cringed a bit as he pondered how hard she must have been hit to have that happen. 

She finished digging through her bag and placed it back, gently grabbing his wrist and overturning his hand, she pressed a small handful of tesserae into his palm. 

When he shot her a confused look, she smiled at him, “Bath’s on me, think of it as an apology for putting you through all that.”

“You don’t have to do that.” he said, trying to hand her back her money.

She shook her head, pushing his hand away, “But I am.”

He was about to protest when he was interrupted by the privacy screen in front of them shifting, “Ah!” Valen’s voice chimed out, “Sylvan, I’m pleased to see you seem to have recovered quite wonderfully.” 

March stood, making room for Valen to approach and check over her patient. “I’ll see myself out, give you some space to do your job.” 

“Oh! March, can you do me a favour?” Sylvan chirped after him.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response.

“Can you get Adeline and tell her to come to the clinic? I need to fill her in on the issue in the mines.”

“Sure,” he said, lingering for a moment, hesitating before he continued, “and uh… I’ll come back to check on you later…” suddenly feeling bashful in Valen’s presence, the knowing smile on her face as she continued to quietly observe her patient's vitals didn’t help.

Sylvan, however, beamed at him, “Okay!” She lilted excitedly.

He turned and hurried out the door, attempting to hide his growing blush.

~~—~~

March felt a little bad for letting it slip that Sylvan was awake to Juniper. Having completed his task of sending Adeline to talk to Sylvan, he quickly made his way to the bath house and mentioned offhandedly that Sylvan had offered to pay for him, which prompted the violet-haired witch to practically sprint out the door to the clinic.

After washing up and enjoying a good long soak, he checked in on Olric at the shop, who had already heard the good news, before making his way back to the clinic, figuring it had been long enough for everyone else to wrap up any business they had with Sylvan.

Upon entering, he was greeted to the sight of a very burnt out looking Sylvan, donning a fresh pair of loose sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, slowly packing away some bags into her backpack. Her face lit up when she saw him.

“Are those yours?” he asked, gesturing to her new outfit.

“Ah, no.” she replied, “Valen keeps clothes like this on hand for cases such as mine… I can’t very well put my old clothes back on…” 

“Yeah…” the meaning behind her statement hung in the air, “I’ll uh… I’ll walk you home… If you want…” March offered awkwardly.

She heaved her backpack onto her shoulders and grinned at him, “I’d like that.”

They made a very slow trek through town, Sylvan was unable to move very fast on account of her still being in recovery, March offered to take her bag, but she declined the offer, stating she would feel even more useless if she couldn’t even manage that much. People passed by and waved or offered quick words of relief at her recovery, but no one stopped her to talk, probably noting how tired and frail she looked at the moment.

As they passed the inn, she groaned, “ugh, between my sore muscles and the freshly removed sutures, my bag feels like it weighs a ton.”

“You don’t get to complain now after refusing my help.” March said flatly, casting her an unimpressed look, she just giggled.

They made it over the bridge, and she suddenly stopped, bringing her hand to her head and swaying in place, March was immediately concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Ah,” she shook her head a little, “I just got a bad bout of lightheadedness, I’ll be okay… I’m sorry I’m so slow moving.”

March observed her quietly for a moment before seeming to come to a conclusion about something, she looked at him quizzically, but instead of a response he just turned his back to her and crouched down.

“Uh? What?” she asked, perplexed.

“Hop on, you’re dizzy and slow, if I carry you it will be faster.” he did not turn to look at her as he spoke, his voice didn’t give anything away, but the red flush that tinged the tips of his ears told her he was embarrassed. She chuckled a little before taking him up on his offer.

March lifted her effortlessly, she felt the muscles of his arms and back tense under her weight, she knew from seeing him at the beach in summer that his work as a blacksmith kept him really toned up, but she was still a little in awe as she felt exactly how those muscles moved like a well oiled machine to hold her up.

He made his way to the steps leading down to her farm, clearing the distance between there and the bridge quickly now that he was able to take longer strides. Sylvan leaned her head forward to rest on his shoulder, he tried not to think about the fact that he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra under the loaned sweatshirt she was wearing.

As he approached her front door, he saw a small pile of what were obviously care packages left behind by some of the townsfolk, clearly they were happy to hear the news that she was alright. Sylvan lifted her head and groaned a little, “The doors unlocked, you can just go in.” she stated drowsily, she sounded about ready to pass out.

He clicked open the door and stepped inside. Her cat, Milo, greeted them with a series of excited chirps, clearly having missed his owner despite being well cared for by Hayden.

“Are you going to get off?” March asked.

“You’re warm, and I hurt…” she whined.

“I’m going to drop you.” he retorted, even through he knew it was an empty threat.

“Just set me on my bed, please…” 

He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh, but obliged her request, kneeling down in such a way she barely had to move to sit on the edge of the bed, he stood, and she didn’t even lift her head to look at him, it stayed hung low as she mumbled, “thank you…”

“Need anything else from me?” he asked, she just slowly shook her head in response, “okay, I’m going to bring in all those boxes you got out front, I’ll leave them on your table.”

“Okay…”

As he opened her front door, he could hear her shifting around on the bed behind him, and by the time he got the boxes and set them on the table the woman who had been sitting on the edge of the bed had already been replaced by a lump in the bedsheets, he approached her to tell her he was leaving now only to find she was already asleep, softly snoring as Milo tucked in beside her. He lingered for a moment, taking in the slow rise and fall of her quilt to further cement the fact that she was alright now, before quietly seeing himself out.

[degendame]

being on tumblr for a long time but never reading homestuck like

[degendame]

Chapter 2 is up on AO3!

Also cross posted on tumblr here if that's your preference :V

[degendame]

What Went Wrong?

Chapter Two

Chapters / 1 / 2 / 3 Rating: Explicit (for later content) Category: F/M Relationships: Female Farmer/March Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance

~~ 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 feeling surrounding Sylvan was quite unlike anything she felt before, an utter lack of the sensation of temperature or atmosphere, it was as if her whole body were numb, but she could feel her own movement. She looked around for a moment, finding herself in a void that seemed to lack light but didn’t diminish her sense of sight or direction. 

Her eyes fell on a figure with long, straight hair, sitting cross-legged a little ways away from her, he appeared to be meditating. 

“Hello?” she called out to him.

“Ah,” he didn’t turn to her as he spoke, but there was familiarity in his tone, “Sylvan, I am glad you seem to be just fine.”

Confused, she moved in front of him to try and see if she recognized him, he had angular features and a face that looked somehow young but as if it carried centuries old wisdom. However, she didn’t know who this person was.

His eyes remained closed, but he addressed her again, “I assume you must be confused, of course you wouldn’t recognize me in this form.” a playful smirk danced to his features, “you are far more used to speaking to a statue.”

“Caldarus?” realization bloomed in her mind, “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“It may take you a moment to remember, but you were grievously injured and near death.” A concerned look rested on his face, “A fault in the mines allowed creatures from much farther down to flood the upper levels and you were overwhelmed.” 

He maintained his meditative state as he explained with a calm, even tone, “My magic is still weak, but I took it upon myself to do what I could to keep your body stable until you were able to receive medical care. I did what I could to heal the injuries that were the most life-threatening. But it may have concerned the doctor…”

Her mind reeled, trying to remember and process, flashes of the events that led her here began to surface. “But what is this? Where am I right now?”

“I believe we are communicating through your subconscious, much like when I first contacted you after you repaired my shrine.” he said matter-of-factly.

That made sense, It was a very similar feeling, however this time she felt far more immersed in it. “So, does that mean I am unconscious?” 

“Correct.” Caldarus sighed, “unfortunately because my magic is so weak I must keep your vitals in a diminished state to allow your body to repair itself, even with mana assisted healing, it will take a few days…” he paused, contemplating,  “Maybe even up to a week. But you are safely in the clinic and in good hands.”

She strained to grasp the memories that were just out of her reach, falling short, “how did I get to the clinic if I was near death?” 

“Well,“ Caldarus began, “You made it to the edge of town, your resolve is commendable to make it that far in the state you were in. However, you collapsed, and young March was the one to find you.”

The hazy image of his bright red hair rushing through the rain sprang to the forefront of her mind, “Oh shit! ” she exclaimed, panic and worry set in to her chest, “I can’t imagine what’s going through his head right now! Our last interaction was… not positive.” 

“He is distraught, but he is handling it well.” he observed, “he feels a heavy weight on his heart and regrets how he treated you. But remains hopeful he will be able to rectify that with you.”

“I can’t…” She started, distressed, “I’m not going to make him wait and stress out for a week!” 

At this, Caldarus opened his eyes. She felt anxious as she watched his piercing gaze flicker between her eyes, searching for something that she couldn’t place.

After a long moment, he spoke, “it may be possible to speed up the healing process.” He watched her face light up with optimism, “I have bestowed mana upon you, I’m unsure how effective it will be, but we could try joining our power.” 

“Just tell me what to do.” There was not an ounce of hesitation in her voice, her expression steeled with determination.

“Take a seat across from me.” He said simply, she obeyed, mirroring his cross-legged position, he extended his open hands, palm up, resting his elbows on his knees, “place your hands upon mine and close your eyes.”

She did as she was told and could immediately feel the flow of mana begin to ebb and flow between them. She needed no further explanation to understand she was lending him her own mana to amplify his powers. She sat still and silent, allowing him to focus as they fell into equilibrium. She felt a dull throb in her head and got the sense she could feel the repairs being made to her body even in this plane of consciousness. She focussed hard on assisting Caldarus, hoping to ease March’s worry as soon as possible.

~~ — ~~

It was the sound of the clinic door shutting that roused March from his restless sleep the next morning. It was quiet and sunlight filtered in through the drawn curtains, alerting March to the fact that at some point Valen had tucked privacy screens in all around, creating a makeshift private room for him and Sylvan.

He looked to Sylvan, her chest still rose and fell in the same rhythm that it had the night before, her face still the same neutral expression as she remained unconscious before him. The sunlight illuminated her bruised skin, many of the bruises had seemed to heal rather rapidly. They appeared as only a slight greenish or yellow tint on her skin, as opposed to the angry reds, blues, and purples of the night before. He took a moment to tentatively grasp her hand in his, interlocking their fingers. This time he felt her fingers twitch against his and felt a warm tinge of hope squeeze his heart, a deep sigh escaped him, and some tension released from his stiff muscles.

He laid her hand back down gently, but as his hand parted from hers, he felt a static thrum between them. Shocked by the sensation, he carefully ran his fingertips along the inside of her wrist, to his surprise he felt what he could only describe as a current, flowing very faintly across her skin. His mind wandered, piecing together the events of the last 24 hours, could this be whatever force was keeping her safe and healing her? Or was he perhaps hallucinating now from stress?

He wasn’t able to finish his thought before the door to the clinic opened again, two familiar voices chatting to each other as they entered, Valen and Juniper. March recalled Valen wanting to get Juniper's opinion on the matter of the mysterious healing factor. He got to his feet and emerged from behind the privacy screen, ignoring the delighted glint in Juniper’s eye as he stretched his tired muscles.

“Ah,” Valen started, “March here has been so kind to monitor my patient for me, so I could get some rest.” He appreciated her trying to give him an out, despite how weak the excuse sounded.

“Is that so?” Juniper said, looking him up and down, it was clear she knew something was up, but she moved on, “Well, you wanted me to have a look at some abnormalities right? Let’s get right on that.”

“Right. March, why don’t you go grab some breakfast while we work?” Valen suggested, as Juniper began moving the privacy screen out of the way, “You’re welcome back any time.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” March said flatly, unable to muster the energy to give any more of a response. As much as he didn’t want to leave Sylvan’s side right now, he was hungry and really needed some fresh air.

“What the fuck?” Juniper’s incredulous tone stopped March dead in his tracks on the way to the door, panic immediately gripping him.

“What?” Valen spoke before he could, “what's wrong?”

They both rushed toward where Juniper stood, hovering her hand just above Sylvan's chest, her face twisted into what March could only read as an approximation of frustration and confusion.

“There’s mana at work here,” she said in disbelief, “it’s faint and diminished but the source it is from is ancient and powerful…” her voice trailed off as she retracted her hand, “Just what is our local farm girl getting herself involved in?” 

Valen and March exchanged confused glances, but it was Valen who spoke up, “mana? I had heard that creatures had re-emerged in the mines, but there’s mana here?” She paused, looking pensive for a moment, “that would explain the rapid healing and strange vitals, but it's still hard to believe.”

“Choose to believe it or not,” she shrugged, “it’s not my problem. Either way, she’s going to be fine.” There was a rushed tempo to her words and an underlying bite of something March couldn’t quite place. “Now, if that’s all you required me for, you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to tend to.” 

She didn’t wait for them to speak before she hurried out the door, March had no idea what that was about. He felt some ease in hearing that Sylvan should be fine, despite his mind reeling over the mention of magical forces being involved.

Valen sighed, “I’m still skeptical, so I’m going to continue to monitor her closely…” she glanced at Sylvan, brow furrowed, “but I can’t deny that the rate at which she’s recovering is unnatural. Just mere hours ago she was practically at death's door and now she looks as if she's already been in recovery for weeks.”

March’s head was throbbing, between the stress, the restless sleep and the bombardment of new information he felt like he couldn’t quite get his feet under him.

Valen seemed to notice his state of distress and offered him a reassuring smile, “what we do know is that she seems to be doing fine at the moment. March, you should go eat and get some air to clear your head.” 

“Right,” March replied, “I’ll do that, thank you.”

~~—~~

His day went by uneventfully, much to his relief, it gave him time to process the events that had transpired. 

He ate at the inn, checked in with Olric at the shop, and occupied himself with cleaning the forge. His brother had prohibited him from engaging in any meaningful work today, but he needed something to keep his hands busy. 

The townsfolk proceeded with their daily routines around him, however no one really approached him while he was around town, he assumes because he likely looked like he didn’t want to be approached, but he overheard conversations about Sylvan. The common theme was that they hoped she was okay and planned what they could do to help her out as she recovered. Olric had already taken it upon himself to ask Hayden and Celine to tend her animals and crops for her, both of whom happily obliged, eager to assist their friend in her time of need.

It was obvious that Sylvan had become a staple of the community, there wasn’t a single person in town that didn’t speak fondly of her, save for March himself. Though he didn’t publicly speak of his dislike towards her anymore, he didn't go around singing her praises like everyone else either. He still felt a tinge of jealousy when she was so often the topic of discussion, but even that had diminished over time, and given the recent events he now felt guilty more than anything.

“Hey, March.” Ryis’ voice pulled him from his lamenting. “How are you doing?”

March sighed, one of his friends was bound to come check on him, “I guess Olric filled you in on what happened?” His tone was just a little more annoyed than he intended it to be.

“Yeah, I saw that you were out and about and I wanted to check in with you.” Ryis said, his voice laced with sympathy and concern, “I heard Sylvan is still unresponsive in the clinic.”

“She is.” March stated flatly, not looking up from his task of sweeping the concrete steps in an attempt to keep his frayed emotions in check, “But if you’re concerned about her, shouldn’t you be at the clinic checking in on her instead of talking to me about it?” 

“I'm worried about you too, March.” The stern tone in his voice made March still as he turned to look at his friend, “I’m not blind, I’ve seen the way you look at her now that you’ve finally let down your guard around her.”

The blunt statement sent a shock through March, he felt his cheeks burn as he stammered, “I-I don’t look at her in any particular way!” 

Ryis just rolled his eyes at him, “Yeah, sure, March.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, “lying to yourself isn’t doing you any favours. I’ve seen the way she looks at you too, you’re only wasting time for both of you.”

March felt the heat spread to his ears, he didn’t like being put under a microscope like that. He couldn’t really deny he felt a certain way about her, but he was still wrapping his head around exactly what that meant, and how, or if he should, even approach it.

“I don’t know…” his shoulders slumped as his uncertainty took hold, “I don’t know how I feel… I feel something , but that matters very little right now considering she is unconscious in a hospital bed at the moment.” He moved to the steps of the forge and took a seat, and Ryis followed suit.

There was a moment of silence between them before Ryis spoke, “Well, how do you feel about that?”

March looked at him incredulously, “you mean about her almost dying and remaining unresponsive after our last interaction ended in me treating her like shit again? Pretty fuckin’ horrible, actually.”

Ryis blinked at him, dumbfounded, “I didn’t know about all that other stuff…”

March groaned, “I’m sorry, I just– It’s a lot.” he leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, “I’m not good with people, and I have this stupid fuckin’ ego…” he began to explain himself, “She stopped by to tell me she was going to the mines specifically in case something happened to her, but she showed me the work order she got from Adeline…” he trailed off as shame washed over him just the same as it had then.

“And you got jealous.” Ryis quipped, knowing March all too well.

“I did!” March cried out, frustration over his actions turning his voice frantic, “I got stupidly jealous and dismissed her! And then because I felt so bad about that, I just kept working and didn’t even think to go check on her when it got late!” he punched the concrete step beside him, ignoring the sharp pain that shot across his knuckles, “exactly the thing she came to me for, I ignored, and she almost died! She could still die, who knows?!” 

By the time March had finished speaking, he was shaking, Ryis put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “She won’t die March. I’ll bet if anything she’s worried that you feel bad and is fighting to get back on her feet for you.”

Ryis’ blind optimism kind of irritated March, but regardless, he felt his anger and frustration begin to ebb away, “She’s not even conscious you dork, she can’t worry.”

“But you know she would if she could.” Ryis said, bumping March with his elbow playfully.

March heaved a sigh, “yeah, she would.”

~~—~~

After spending the rest of the day at his drafting table, March made his way back to the clinic. He wasn’t sure if he was going to stay the night again, but he knew he needed to at least check in.

When he entered, Valen was sitting at her desk filling out paperwork, she looked up and smiled when she saw March in the doorway.

“I’m about to turn in for the night, she’s doing fine still, vitals still all the same and her recovery has advanced just as fast as it was before.” She offered up the information before March even had the chance to ask.

“That’s good… I guess.” March replied, still not sure what to make of the strange situation.

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable if you’re staying again tonight.” She said as she closed her ledger, standing up from her seat.

“Okay, thanks.” 

As she walked up the stairs, March made his way over to the privacy screens that separated Sylvan from the rest of the clinic. When he entered, he saw that there was already a chair pulled up to her bedside, along with a small table with a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses placed on it. He took a seat, silently appreciating the thoughtfulness of the local doctor, as he inspected Sylvan's current state. 

The worst of the bruises that marred her body just over a day ago were nothing more than whispers of yellow colouring dotting her flesh; the cuts, and scrapes now only faint scars, white and raised from her skin. He could scarcely believe she was in as terrible a state as she was when he found her collapsed in the mud on that rainy night.

He felt minor relief, but unease still bit back at him, she has still yet to wake up despite looking so comparatively healthy. He gently held her hand again, pondering about how he never dared to attempt such an action when she was awake, but now he barely even thought about it before reaching for her. He examined her fingers, her cuticles were well maintained and her nails cut short. She had slight calluses from her work on her farm and in the mines, they were not as developed as the ones on his hands but still blatantly present.

He clasped her hand in both of his, resting his forehead on his closed hands, he silently willed her to wake up soon. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, but he knew he needed to apologize, he wanted to be kinder to her, and he realized he wanted to be closer to her as well.

He looked up to her face and noticed her brow was slightly furrowed, her eyes moved behind her lids, ever so slightly, and her jaw was tense. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it was more activity than she has shown since she was brought in. March sighed, too scared to be too optimistic, he resolved he would be sleeping at her bedside again tonight.

~~—~~

Sylvan wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the entire time she had sat with Caldarus she could feel tingles all over her as different areas were focused on to repair. They were faint, like static across her skin, and she had gotten used to it. 

So when she suddenly felt pressure and warmth spread across her right hand, her concentration faltered. Caldarus peeked at her when her eyes snapped open to look at her hand with a puzzled expression, he cleared his throat and she jumped a little as she looked at him.

“I think,” he started, “we have done enough here. I imagine it won’t be long before you wake.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Yes.” he replied simply.

“Hmm.” she hummed pensively, “I don’t really feel any different…”

“But you do,” he said knowingly, “you just felt someone take your hand.”

She glanced at her hand again, was that what that was? She looked to Caldarus for further explanation, but he just let out an amused chuckle.

“I feel too awake here.” she observed, looking around at the endless void surrounding them, “how do I wake up?”

“It’s simple,” Caldarus said, getting to his feet, she noticed he was quite tall, “you must leave here. I think you will sleep a little longer yet, but you will likely wake before the sun rises.”

His omnipotence reminded her that he was, in fact, a divine being. “Well, how do I leave?”

“I will send you off.” he moved around behind her, “are you ready to leave?” 

“Yeah, I think I have to go.” she said, a little sad that she didn’t have the chance to get to know Caldarus more while they were in such a personal atmosphere.

Sensing her apprehension, he chuckled, “We may well meet again like this sometime, do not worry about me, you have people waiting for you to get back on your feet at home.”

She smiled to herself, “yeah, you’re right… Thank you for everything, Caldarus.”

“It was my pleasure.” he said softly, moving closer to her, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to utilize my powers in such a way, it has helped break up some of the tedium that comes with being in a state such as mine.”

There was a brief moment of silence as she mulled over his words, but before she could say anything, she felt his firm hands on her shoulders and the familiar sensation of mana flowing across her skin.

She turned her head to look back at him and met his eyes as he spoke, “Goodbye Sylvan, we will speak at my shrine again after you return home.”

And with that she was plummeted into darkness again, but this time the sensation that welcomed her was warm and soft.

[degendame]

I just learned this mans name is Ragnar and I've played too much skyrim to not burst into song every time I see him now....

Can’t wait to bully him

[degendame]

I am foaming at the mouth over how the character models have improved

[degendame]

I officially have an AO3 account, so I've cross posted the first chapter there now! Work on the second chapter slowed down a bit since I've had issues with internet the last week, but I'll continue to cross post here and AO3 every time I post. That way people can use their preferred platform to read from!

Chapter one on Tumblr here

[degendame]

i rejoined tumblr after years specifically for FOM content and this was the subsequent messages my boyfriend received on the matter...

march eating pavement and dying in a glue trap CANNOT be my magnum opus have i already piqued 😭😭

[degendame]

What Went Wrong?

Chapter One

Chapters / 1 / 2 / 3

Rating: Explicit (for later content) Category: F/M Relationships: Female Farmer/March Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance

~~

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.

[degendame]

rejoined tumblr for the first time in years for fields of mistria content and have left fanfiction retirement and begun writing a dramatic hurt/comfort, major injury, eventual smut march/farmer fic. I have enough I could post the first chapter but need to wait until the 24th to get an account on Ao3 and definitely not going and checking every day to see my position in the queue is...