Chapter Text
The eepy farmer woke up to a letter in the mailbox. They were still getting used to receiving letters on the regular, as the life of adventuring hadn’t left them much time to foster friendships over messenger. Still, the sudden note caught the farmer off guard.
Meet me at the forge. Don’t keep me waiting. -March
The shocked farmer overcame every urge to drop the letter on the ground and sprint for the forge. Inhaling to make sure they were breathing, they double-checked they read it right. The message was from March. One step away from a full-blown freak-out, the panicked farmer wondered what they should do. Taking a moment to compose themself, they tucked the letter into a chest. Logic said they should take care of the crops first. Their heart said ‘run’.
Foregoing their responsibility they decided to see what March wanted. It must be important enough for him to reach out first. The farmer paused for a moment. Were they really going to drop everything for a man? A man who has done nothing but nag since they day they arrived?
A moment later when the smitten farmer knocked on March’s door, they were met with his beautiful eyes rolling. Pushing the door open he turned around and the farmer followed him in.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t actually show up. Too busy ‘saving the town’ and whatnot.”
“Awww, you heard about everything I’m doing around here?” the farmer teased. “Maybe I actually am the towns Savior, huh?”
He closed in on them at that. The closeness of the situation added to the riled-up farmer.
“Hah! We both know that’s not true. You’re in over your head and you can’t admit it. It’s all fun and games to you right now, but when the job gets tough you’ll just leave. You’ll find some other adventure to go on.” There was a hint of pain that seeped through his words. The farmer found the emotional scene unexpected, and was unsure how to respond. For a brief moment, they wondered if they would leave Mistria once the town returned to their previous state…
“You cant scare me off. I’m not leaving.” The farmer was filled with determination. (wait wrong game)
“Hah!” March tossed something at the farmer. Caught off guard they barely managed to grip it. It was a copper hoe, and an enchanted one at that. “Even with the right tools you’ll still fail in the end Savior.”
Ready to stick it to March and be the best damn farmer the world has ever seen they left in a huff. All the way to the general store they were muttering about how they’ll be such a goddamn good farmer he’ll eat his words.
Holt had never seen the new farmer is such a mood. And he’d never heard them break out their adventuring playbook of fun words to use when telling someone to ‘eat shit’. Thankfully, Dell had been out with the other children this morning, leaving her out of hearing range. Nora would’ve ended the farmer otherwise.
In between the colorful language spewing from the farmer’s mouth, there were also extremely detailed plans about how to make the most efficient farm the town had ever seen. Holt just sold them four more fruit trees and dozens of seeds before seeing them off. Although, it piqued his interest. What had riled up the farmer that much? He’d ask Elsie about it later. She knew everything in this town.
He went back to manning the general store, pondering plants instead of gossip.
The rest of the day was spent with the sweating farmer putting that new hoe to good use. Organizing the orchard to make room for next season’s crops, planting so many seeds they’d probably regret it the next day, and once again plotting ways to humiliate March. They plowed on, fueled by spite (and love <3). It took the rest of the day to sort everything out and clear out all remaining overgrowth. They looked at the beautiful farm with pride.
The spiteful farmer slept soundly, dreaming of revenge against March.
Waking up, they heard droplets of rain, rushing over their roof. This bodes well for a good mines day.
The dragon statue (whose name I can’t remember but I remember you can fuck him <3) Cauldron once again called out to the farmer.
“You’ve done well. Take this.” He said, blessing the farmer with magic. The spell would replenish their energy. Interesting… They hadn’t been taking the whole magic thing seriously, but this… This could change things. Whatever they heard in the mines must be related to this too.
Dropping in at the blacksmith’s to gift March some ore and run before he could say anything mean, the farmer splashed through the rain to the mines.
They’d almost reached level 20 last time when they had to run back home. Stupid 2 am curfew. Today, they’d make it all the way. Reaching level 20 would happen. Nothing could stand in their way.
At least, that's what they thought until a fucking rock bastard ruined everything. It was level 19, 9 PM, and the farmer had used every morsel of food they’d brought, every ounce of magic they’d been gifted. 11 hp and a dream, refusing to give up when they’d come so far. And yet, one must come back to reality after awakening.
A rock spitter (fields of Mistria wiki is telling me these fuckers are called rock clods… i— I think ill just keep calling them rock bastards as that implies these monsters get married and they had the rock clods out of wedlock) took the opportunity to fuck up the tired farmer’s leg. Its jagged edges split into the farmer’s calf, piercing the muscles. With one health and a drive to get back the desperate farmer limped to the ladder.
They’d made it out of the mines alive, and they collapsed at the entrance. Except the storm raged on outside, so Errol wouldn’t hear their cries for help. Pain seized their leg, even as they lay there. Taking a deep breath they braced themself for the trek back home. Using their worn sword to keep as much weight as possible off their leg they started stumbling home.
It was taking so much longer to get home, dragging their leg behind every step of the way. They’d hardly made it to the forge by 10:30. The wounded farmer wondered if they’d make it home in time… Wincing again as they placed a little too much weight on their leg, they pushed through.
“What the fuck happened to you?” March said, slamming the door open.
“Mines…” The farmer hissed at their step again, “Look March, I’m not in the mood to fight right now, I just wanna go home.”
March stared at them in the pouring rain as they stumbled forward. Had the exhausted farmer cared to look at him, they’d see his dumbfounded look.
“Home? You’re going home? No, you’re going to Val’s right now.” March demanded.
“If it’s not better by tomorrow I’ll—“ Their sword snapped in two at their weight and they went face-first into a puddle. They hadn’t even recovered from that shock when they were suddenly weightless. March effortlessly threw them over his shoulder and started for the clinic. The fireman’s carry was not super comfortable, with all the pressure hitting their waist now. But the view the farmer had, and the warmth of his grip on their upper thighs, kept them from complaining.
“You think Addie would let you bleed all throughout the town? And you think she’d let me live if I knew about it and didn’t stop you?” He complained, approaching Valen’s clinic.
“The rain would wash it all away.”
“The!” He was ready to start arguing but groaned and knocked on the door instead.
“Yes?” A sleepy Val opened their (fuck you I headcanon Val as nonbinary) door only to be surprised by the sight before them. March bulldozed past, and the farmer just waved at Val before being dropped onto the patient’s bed.
“Savior here thought they’d get home on that leg just fine,” March tattled to the doc.
“Well, I’m glad you brought them here because there’s still shrapnel in your leg. Let me go get ready and I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I’d’ve been fine in the morning,” the farmer yawned, finally comfortable and out of the rain. Maybe it was the energy they spent in the mine, or maybe it was the blood loss, but the room started fading out.
“Oi!” They heard March cry out, but their eyes closed and they fell asleep.
They woke up a few hours later, not quite 6 AM. Their leg didn’t hurt so much, and they tried to shift to see it. They recognized a warm weight holding down their waist. March had fallen asleep in the chair next to the bed… and he was making sure the farmer didn’t move too much in their sleep. It would’ve been a beautiful time to admire him, without his personality getting in the way. But alas, the farmer was still worn out from their adventure.
Feeling the lul of dreams call them again they swiftly faded into darkness once more, comforted by March’s presence.
They woke up to an empty clinic. The chair March had slept on was gone. In fact, there was no trace of him ever staying the night. Perhaps it was a fever dream after all. Aches hit the farmer hard when they sat up, and that’s when Valen came back.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” They said, handing the farmer’s cute maid dress back to them. “Your clothes were soaked, so I took the liberty of changing you after you fainted.”
“How did—“
“March tried to respect your privacy, but I made him help me. Kid managed to do it with his eyes shut!” Valen laughed and then sighed. “You gave us quite a fright. Thank Calculus(im not looking up his name) that boy dragged you here, or you might not have made it. You were losing blood like crazy, and with the rain and your damp clothes, you were a breeding ground for infection. Do you know how worried we were?”
Valen continued to rant at the farmer until Adeline stopped by. She promised everyone was helping out, as Hayden and Celine watered all the crops on the farm. Then she also berated them for endangering themself. After a while, her brother dropped by. Everyone else in town soon followed, expressing their concern for the farmer. Except March.
The farmer started to wonder if he really had spent the night with them. Or if their fever-riddled brain was just playing tricks on them.
When Valen cleared them to go home the next morning though, they found a copper sword waiting on their doorstep. No note was attached, but the thankful farmer knew who it was from.