March X Injured Farmer After 4-hearts Cutscene

March x Injured farmer after 4-hearts cutscene

description: It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times the farmer couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

Or, a rewrite of the four-heart cutscene where March helps the farmer home after she sprains her ankle at the forge. Then, they finally confront their feelings.

warnings: NSFW (rated M, nothing too intense. minors dni), minor injury

note: there are a few fics on ao3 where the farmer helps a drunk march home after friday night at the inn, so i wondered what a scenario where march had to help the farmer home instead would be like! this fic is also on ao3 ♡ i haven't written fic in 8 years if you like this please talk to me about it/leave a comment!!! it means the world and im feral for this grumpy blacksmith

Ariana hadn’t said more than a few passing words to March since he asked her to meet him at the Blacksmith a few weeks ago. March had chewed her out and then, perplexingly, gifted her a hoe with the nicest metalwork Ari had ever seen. She was used to working with wooden training weapons at the Adventurer’s Guild and since she had arrived in Mistria she had made do with whatever tools she could get her hands on. Sure, they were old and rusty, but they were also free. Ariana didn’t need nice things.

Ever since that day in his shop, Ari had avoided having any real conversations with Mistria’s blacksmith. When she could, she would leave whatever ore she had collected with Olric or with a note by the forge and continue quickly on her way without meeting March’s gaze. And the few times she had exchanged words with him, Ari found it hard to look away from his eyes, dark as the midnight sky, and those lips, quirked down in a frown.

You’re being ridiculous, Ari chided herself. He’s not warming up to you. He’s just keeping an eye on you like he promised.

Sure, he hadn’t outright insulted the farmer in a couple weeks. He didn’t need to. March had thrown his words like daggers when they last spoke at any real length.

March had looked at her with eyes hard like iron. “Oh please. You're in way over your head. You come out here, no money, no experience, and think you can just fake your way through running a farm? And now everyone in town acts like it was you who won the first-place blacksmithing trophy three years running. It's all fun and games now, but the second things actually get tough, I'm sure you're going to ditch Mistria and its problems.”

Ariana wasn’t a quitter. She had told March that much. But he was right about one thing. She had no idea how to run a farm. Back in the Capital, Ari could barely keep a houseplant alive on the windowsill of her apartment. She was always a quick learner, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t enough.

You weren’t enough for the Adventurer’s Guild, and you aren’t enough for Mistria.

And March was the only one who saw that. Ari wanted to prove him wrong- she wanted to be good enough for Mistria. Good enough for March, Ari tried not to think. She told herself that was the reason the blacksmith was always on her mind. She was only thinking about proving him wrong. She was not thinking about his eyes that sparkled when he laughed on Fridays at the inn, not the little crease between his eyebrows that she wanted to smooth out when he frowned, and certainly not what those pursed lips would feel like beneath her own

 That would be ridiculous, she told herself. He hates you. 

It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times Ari couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

—

March was having a great day. It was still early in the summer, so the air in Mistria wasn’t blistering quite yet. It was just the right temperature that reminded him of standing in front of the warmth of the forge. He was pleased with himself as he approached his brother, “Olric! Balor cut me a great deal on the ingots. But we’ll have to bring them to the forge ourselves, so we’ll need to-” March cut himself short when he saw familiar purple waves and a denim overall dress. “Ari, what do you think you’re doing here exactly?” March’s skin simmered with a feeling that he told himself was anger.

“March!” his brother beamed, “Ari heard how backed up we were and uh… volunteered to help out! Right, buddy?”

Ari stood silently for a moment, her eyes locked firmly on March. He swore he saw a faint blush creep onto her cheeks. Figures, he thought, I’ve been a real ass to her. Of course she’d still be angry with me. The farmer had been avoiding him these last few weeks. Ever since he’d pushed her away. It was for the best. March had to focus on work and while Ari had captured everybody else’s attention in Mistria, it was best that she stayed away from March. He liked it better on his own.

March broke Ari’s gaze, and whatever spell was cast between them had broken. March didn’t let himself feel disappointed.

“Many hands make light work!” Ari recovered, sunny as ever. March thought it was infuriating. No matter how rude he was to her, she always responded with a smile and a kind word. It was ridiculous. Nobody was that nice.

Nobody except Ari, his subconscious added unhelpfully. He ignored it. It had to be an act, right? March angled his head so he could look down at Ari in a way he knew made most people feel small. “I don’t need platitudes, especially from you.”

Ari’s smile faltered and March chided himself despite his better judgment. This woman was so frustrating! “Well you can just- fine! Fine. But you’d better be able to keep up,” March finished. 

The blacksmith directed his brother to start carrying over Balor’s shipment from the inn, and Ari helped start up the forge. She kept the temperature steady easily. March wasn’t surprised, her skill had been improving steadily since she arrived in Mistria. The two of them fell into an easy rhythm. A swell of pride bubbled in March’s chest as Ari added another ingot to their growing pile. Once Olric returned with the shipment from Balor, he slotted into their routine and the work that would’ve taken all day with just the two brothers was done by lunchtime.

“And... that's... it! Whew, I think we're done. Are we done, Olric?” March panted.

Olric was out of breath as well, “We sure are! Everyone is going to be super happy about this!”

“That was fun!” Ari was beaming, showing that warmth that March craved despite himself.

The blacksmith felt his cheeks heat. “Y-yeah! ... I mean... thanks, Ari. I'm going inside,” March swallowed thickly, “I need to cool down.”

March felt the farmer’s stare on his back as he turned back into the shop. Before he could even latch the door closed, there was a scuff of boots and a yelp at the forge behind him. Next thing March knew, he was at Ari’s side helping her to sit on the stairs from the forge that she had seemingly tripped down.

—

Ari’s ankle throbbed as she sat on the steps to the forge, March’s hands carefully assessing her injury. She thought it was fitting that her first real injury in Mistria had come from her infatuation with the Blacksmith and not from a monster in the mines or from her work on the farm. March was the biggest pain in her ass, even more so than any of her real work. March pressed his fingers gently against a tender spot on her ankle and she flinched at the ache it caused.

March turned to Olric, “We should get her to Valen to check this out.” Was that concern in his voice? She was not going to see the town’s doctor. Absolutely not. She would never live down the indignity if her first trip to Valen’s clinic was caused by tripping down the stairs while ogling at the local blacksmith. It was barely a sprain, surely she could make it to her farm and patch herself up with supplies from her adventuring days. Ari carefully maintained her image as the competent farmer. She didn’t want Valen to see through the act like March clearly had.

You’re not enough for Mistria. And you are certainly not enough for him.

Before March could turn his gaze back to Ari, she pushed herself off the steps to make her way home. However, the second she put weight on her ankle she stumbled back onto the stairs. Despite the obvious difficulty moving, Ari managed to mumble out a pouted “’M fine.”

“Your ankle is already twice its normal size.” Ari felt March’s eyes on her injury. “There is no way you can keep working like that,” the concern in March’s voice was unmistakable.

So he does care.

Before Ari let herself dwell on that revelation, she threw the harshest look she could muster through the butterflies in her stomach and the throbbing in her ankle. She was never really good at harsh looks to begin with. “You are not taking me to Valen like this.”

March matched her disagreeable energy for a moment, with much more verve than she had managed “What do you mean? You know it's her job to see to injuries, right?”

Olric looked between the two of them, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of one of their arguments. “I’m just going inside to check on our, um, rocks… Ari just shout if you need any help, yeah? Take care of yourself, bro.”

When Ari didn’t say anything after Olric made himself scarce, March softened again. “You really do need to get this treated.”

Ari couldn’t help but smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about my well being,”

March’s face turned as red as his hair as he stammered, “W- well I don’t want you out of commission with all that ore you’re bringing around all the time. It’d be bad for business- that's all.” Though he tried to mask his worry, Ari still caught his eyes darting down to her swollen ankle.

“March, I’ll be fine. I have some supplies at the farmhouse. I can patch myself up, I’ve done it before.”

Before Ari could move to get up again, March carefully laid a hand on her arm. “At least let me help you get home. We both know you can’t put weight on that ankle right now.” Ari could swear she felt sparks where his fingers brushed, calloused and warm. The farmer nodded her head because her throat seemed too dry to form words.

It was going to be a slow-going process, getting back to the farm. Ari had an arm slung over March’s shoulder so he could help support her as they began to walk away from the Blacksmith. Ari tried to hide her wince and sharp intake of breath whenever her injured foot pressed against the ground. But they didn’t seem to escape March’s attention, because after a few steps, he motioned for Ari to stop moving.

“This will go a lot faster if you let me carry you.”

For a moment Ari forgot about her pride and imagined March’s strong arms, toned from long days at the forge, wrapped around her body. Imagined what it would feel like to wrap her own arms around him and what it would be like to feel his pulse under her breath as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. So Ari conceded. For purely experimental purposes, of course. 

March picked her up like she weighed nothing, despite her plump curves and her own toned physique from life on the farm and adventurer training before it. She had trained hard with the Guild, though they never sent her out on any real adventures. Ari was competent, but she had been relatively new to the Adventurer’s guild. There was always a more seasoned adventurer for the jobs that really mattered. And it would have been selfish of her to push for a job outside the city, protecting farmland from bandits or villagers from woodland monsters when her inexperience could have easily hurt the ones she wanted to help. So, the old farm in Mistria seemed like Ari’s best shot to make a real difference.

Even if I have no clue what I’m doing, she couldn’t help but remind herself.

She was shaken from her thoughts when March started walking after adjusting Ari in his arms. He was carrying her princess-style, and as Ari wrapped her arms around his neck, the feeling of his skin under her fingertips was even better than she had imagined. March’s hold was secure, and Ari relaxed into him. She focused on the pleasant up and down sensation of each step as they made their way towards her farm instead of her throbbing ankle.

Ari decided to test out another one of her theories, and rested her head in the crook of March’s neck. She felt muscles tense under her cheek for a moment, before March pulled her body closer to his. He smelled of cedarwood & sage, and she drank in the scent. This felt more magical than any spell Caldarus could teach her. Ari could feel March’s pulse thundering as they crossed the bridge that led home. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba- dum. It was mesmerizing. Ari wondered if her own heartbeat betrayed her like his did.

Is he enjoying this?

Before Ari could decide on an answer, March stopped at the front door of her farmhouse.

“We’re here, Princess.” March’s breath was on her ear and his voice raspy. He wasn’t teasing her, not entirely. Lightning licked down Ari’s spine at his words, and at his voice.

Ari tried to control her breath as she replied, “You can put me down now, I think.”

March seemed to return to himself as the tension loosened between them when he was reminded of why he had been carrying her in the first place.

“Let me at least get you settled inside. You’ll strain yourself trying to walk on it so soon.” 

Ari rolled her eyes at his mother-henning, but her arms were still around his neck and she wouldn’t mind a few more moments of feeling his body pressed against hers. “Fine.”

March set Ari gingerly on her plaid bed sheets and she told him where to find the healing supplies. He pulled the canvas duffel bag out from under the bed and began to sort through her first aid kit. 

“Do you even know what to do with all that?”

March looked up at her, “First aid training a couple years ago. I taught smithing at a summer camp.”

Ari studied her grumpy blacksmith. It made sense that he would be a camp counselor. He was great with Luc, Maple, and Dell; always working on little projects for them. She recently overheard Dell bragging about the awesome dragons-head belt-buckle he had made for the little adventurer.

“You really are a softy,” Ari accused him with no real malice in her voice.

“Would you rather I leave you here and let you break your ankle tripping over yourself?”

March gathered healing ointment on his one hand and carefully lifted Ari’s injured ankle with the other. He spread the salve over the swollen area and Ari couldn’t decide which sensation was more intense- the aching tenderness of her sprain, or the electricity she felt every time March touched her.

The air smelled of mint & aloe. The pain in Ari’s ankle quieted to a dull thrum. “I guess I don’t really mind that you’re here.”

March’s smirk told Ari he was unconvinced by her nonchalance. He wiped the ointment from his hands onto a washcloth from the healing kit, and moved to wrap her ankle for stability. As he worked the bandage around and around, March’s gaze stayed locked on Ari’s.

“Thank you, March,” her voice was barely more than a whisper. Where before the tension between them had grown slack, now it was pulled taut. 

“Arianna,” March breathed.

Before Ari could consider what she was about to do, her hands found their way to March’s red locks and she gently pulled him up so that his face was even with her own. He was so close that they could share breath. His lips were slightly parted and his cheeks were rosy. Ari closed her eyes and the distance between them as she gently pressed her lips to his.

Ari expected March to be reticent, at first. She feared he might even pull away from where their lips were joined. Instead, March deepened the kiss gently, almost reverently. His hands cupped Ari’s jaw and warmth pulsed down her body, through her stomach, and straight to her core. They explored each other with tenderness and without any rush. Ari’s grip loosened in March’s hair and she moved her hands down his chest and to the hard plane of his abdomen. His apron felt rough beneath her fingers, and Ari couldn’t help but stop and toy with the metal pendant he always wore. 

They kissed until they were out of breath and panting. When March finally pulled away, his eyes devoured Arianna like a starved man. The blacksmith pressed his forehead to Ari’s and she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Ari ached for him as March repositioned his hands to rest on her waist and his lips to brush against her ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words sent another shiver between her legs and Ari wondered if she was having the same effect on him.

“Do you really mean it?” She whined, “Don’t you dare tease me.”

Ari couldn’t help the lingering fear in the back of her mind that this was just some joke; that the harsh distance from before revealed his true feelings for her and now he was just having a bit of fun at her expense.

Deep down she knew that the man who taught his craft to kids at summer camp and who faithfully created a copper nugget beetle out of actual copper for Luc wouldn’t have the heart to do that to her. But the fear remained nonetheless.

March let out a sigh that sounded almost like regret. “Is it because of how I treated you before? I’m sorry Ariana.” His stare darted down for a moment, unable to meet her own. “I have a tough time with new people. I learned that they can’t disappoint me if I expect the worst from them.” March pulled back so he could look into her eyes again, pupils blown with desire and gaze simmering like hot coals. “I expected the worst from you and you proved me wrong every single time. Thank you for today.” March paused another moment, and Ari quietly marvelled at how beautiful he looked in that moment.  “I’m shit with words, Ari. Let me show you.”

Arianna nodded frantically, heady want flooding her thoughts and her senes until all she could feel were March’s hands on her overalls as he adjusted her farther back on the bed, carefully maneuvering her injured ankle. She ached for him. Then, March positioned himself between her legs and she could feel his need. For a moment, his lips were on hers again, and she relished feeling so close to him. He kissed down her chin and to her jaw. He paused his work to look up at her, and his gaze was like a blessing and a wanton prayer. March’s mouth trailed kisses down her overalls and to just below her navel, and she lamented that she was covered by the damned clothing. Ari wanted to feel his lips on her bare skin. Then, a hand snaked up her thigh and under her dress. Arianna moaned her assent.

March looked up again, “Is this okay?”

Ari mustered another nod, all rational thought lost to her. March bunched the skirt of her overalls at the waist.

“Is this okay?”

Again, Ari nodded. March pushed her underwear to the side and positioned his lips just above her core.

“Is this okay?” March looked at her with a primal hunger in his gaze, voice rough with want.

Ari tried to nod again, but all she managed to do was buck her hips towards March’s waiting lips and let out a needy moan.

Finally, finally March pressed a kiss to where she needed it most and Ari began to come undone underneath him. His tongue was hitting all the right spots; and his hands pressed her hips firmly to the bed when all she wanted to do was grind into him. 

March lifted his head for a moment, gazing up at Ari with his lips parted. She felt his calloused hands resting on her hips, only pressing down when she tried to lift them. “Careful with that ankle, Ari.”

The unabashed concern in his voice was as intoxicating as the evidence of what he had been doing to her on his lips.

All Ari could think about were those hands on her skin and the bulge she knew was between March’s legs. “Come back up here, March.”

They shed their clothes, and then March was pressed against her once again. Where before it was his mouth, now it was his hips. Ariana forgot the ache in her ankle and the cool gel of the healing salve when there was no more room between herself and March. He fit perfectly, and joined with her so gently. As March pressed his forehead against Ari’s and began to move within her, she thought she could see every possible shade of magic inside his blown out pupils. Ariana had come to Mistria for a farm and a house, but what she had gotten was a home. That thought scared her more than any monster in the mines. March reached a hand up to cup her jaw and he captured her lips in a tender kiss. His fingertips felt hot where they touched her cheek, and she savored the roughness of his callouses, hardened from long days at the forge.

Soon, both spent, they reluctantly pulled away from each other. March grabbed a towel from the small kitchen in the farmhouse and wiped up his mess from her stomach and chest. The texture of the towel was rough against her soft skin and slick against March’s release. 

“Was that clear enough for you, Princess?”  March asked with a smirk. March’s arm was around her shoulders and her head was pressed to his chest where she could hear his heartbeat.

Emboldened by his obvious affection, Ari adjusted to prop her head on her elbow and smiled as she stared lazily at the man in bed next to her. “Are you sure that's how you feel about me?”

March silenced her with a kiss and she laughed into his mouth. When they separated again, March’s fingers explored her purple waves. “Please don’t ask me to explain it again right now. I might need a break first.”

Ari laughed and curled into March's side, feeling content and decidedly not ready for another round. March pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

They held one another in companionable silence for some time. “I think I love you, idiot,” March finally mumbled into Ariana's hair.

Ari pulled away to meet his gaze, heart thundering in equal parts joy and disbelief. Composing herself, she smiled at her blacksmith. Her blacksmith. “I was just thinking the same thing, asshole.” 

uhm. hayden beach outfit anyone

Im in love with march fields of mistria and also ashley is my farmer

Please, Farmer. Our economy is in shambles.

snicklefritz marry me, marry me snicklefritz 😫

say cheese 📸 my farmer & march

go check out fields of mistria on steam!!