Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a new blacksmith in the city, and Hajime felt like he had better things to do than check out their work but somebody had to do it, after their previous one on court had been so unceremoniously kicked out. Perhaps he could have his sword maintained while he was at it at least – it was mostly fine, but had suffered a bit from the last battle.

Finding the place was easy enough, as it lay fairly central and the sounds coming from inside the building, loud clanks of metal on metal, were hard to overhear even from outside. Nobody had scheduled his visit, quote Oikawa’s sister alias the queen alias simultaneously the wisest and the least organised person he had ever met, “go whenever you feel like it,” so it made sense they were working. He did feel a bit uncomfortable intruding on their labour, since he personally hated to be interrupted when he was focused on something, but he could still come in and wait for them to spare him some time.

“Excuse me,” he called when he stepped through the door and was greeted with heat and air hardly breathable, as expected. Not for the first time, he cursed his armour, shiny and heavy and ridiculously warm that it was.

The sounds coming from a back room stopped and not long after, a man that could not have been much older than Hajime himself came out, with thick beads of sweat dripping down his tan skin and what looked like a hammer – but what did he know, he only used the weapons, not forged them – still in his hand. He was also incredibly good-looking (a fact that he almost hated himself for noticing, as it sounded exactly like what Oikawa would have said, and while he appreciated his friend, he did not appreciate the shallow mindset overly present on the court). Strong muscles spoke of years of experience in his craft, short dark hair was held back by a thick red headband, and the smile in his eyes seemed genuine.

“Welcome, what can I—” He abruptly stopped when his eyes fell upon the symbol embedded on the front of Hajime’s armour, and his eyes widened in surprised realisation. “The royal guard? I’m honoured you came here!”

He seemed a bit unsure of what to do, standing there without much purpose in what looked like a half-bow, and Hajime had to hold back a snort. Despite everything, he was here professionally, so he should act that way. “No need for formalities. I’m here to inspect your work. If you’re good, we may be able to make a deal, we do need a new blacksmith.”

“What happened to the old one?” the other asked warily.

“Got kicked out. She made a deal with a faerie, that faerie had a witch enchant all of her work while she wasn’t looking, and the next time the prince used his sword he almost burned the place down.” It had been quite hilarious, actually. The queen’s face of sheer utter disbelief was still among the funniest things he had ever witnessed.

The blacksmith winced, but his earlier tension had eased a bit. “Ouch. Well, I’ll do my best to not have that happen. Oh, I’m Sawamura Daichi by the way,” he added quickly. “Just Daichi is fine. I moved here from Karasuno recently.”

“That old run-down place?” Karasuno was known for its dark corners and dirty streets, a place where most people who had to flee their home or had never ended up making it elsewhere usually wound up. Making it to Karasuno was easy, but making it out of it? An impressive feat. “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, knight on the royal guard of Aoba.”

“Hey, Karasuno has its good sides,” the blacksmith – Daichi – retorted. “I’ve met some of my best friends for life there.”

“Did you learn how to change the topic there too?”

Daichi laughed, a pleasant, low sound. “You got me. Is there anything you need? A new sword, maybe?”

The thought of replacing his trusty weapon, the familiar weight always at his back, with a new one made him feel sick, and he quickly shook his head. “Definitely not. But perhaps you could look it over?”

“Of course.” He saluted casually and took the sword when Hajime handed it over, and it was obvious he had experience, as his eyes narrowed a bit at the look of the blade. “This one’s seen better days, huh? It’s a good one, though. Excellent craftsmanship. Where did you get it?”

“It was a present, actually.” He remembered the day quite vividly, when he first got admitted to the royal guard. His mother had bought it for him, and he could only imagine how much time she must have had spent to scrape together the money for it. Hajime was not entirely sure if it was even from Aoba, the style of it reminded him much more of Date, as it was wide and heavy and difficult to handle but excellent in battle once you knew what you were doing.

“Shame. If you ever find out who made it, please tell me, I’d love to know.”

While Daichi walked off to sharpen his sword, Hajime took the time to stroll around the shop. All the weapons hanging on the walls and lying in the vitrines seemed to be of stellar quality, and judging from what he had seen of the owner so far, he liked the atmosphere of it as well. There was something homely about it, but it still retained some level of professionality, unlike that fabric store Oikawa liked to disappear to that was just cramped full with clothes and hardly breathable air. He was certain the queen would be happy with this, too, and from the looks of it, he could see a good partnership in their future.

After a while, Daichi came back with Hajime’s sword and a smug smile on his face. “Good as new.”

It did, in fact, look wonderful – all the dents and scratches had been worked out and its edges were razor-sharp once again, indeed very much like how it had used to be when he had just gotten it. He gave it a test swing and couldn’t help the grin spreading out on his face upon the feeling. “Wonderful job, thank you.”

“Only the best for my customers.” They shared a gaze and started laughing, and if someone had told Hajime running errands for the queen could actually be fun, he probably would not have believed them but here he was, glad to have been proven wrong.

It had been roughly a week since the queen of the land had called Daichi to the court to tell him in person he would now be working as their regular blacksmith. He still did not quite understand why it had been necessary, as absolutely nothing would change except that he would get more orders from the court now, but he would not complain – more business was always appreciated, and being chosen by the country’s ruler was more than an honour. He supposed he had to thank Iwaizumi for that, who had surely put in a good word for him.

And apparently, Daichi’s skills were direly needed, as the sword on his desk that said royal knight had brought had been cleanly cut in two, as if it had been planned. “What did you do to that?”

“Me? Nothing. My student, though …” Iwaizumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s a bit … Aggressive. I told him to block, but he ended up counterattacking and it looks like our training swords aren’t as durable as I thought they were.”

He ran his hands over the metal. Indeed, they were of much lesser quality than the one Iwaizumi was carrying on his back, but they should not have broken this easily. Training swords were supposed to, well, actually survive training, but this one just looked like someone’s first forged sword.

“I could stitch it back together, but do you really want that?”

“Unless you want to make two hundred new training swords, please do,” Iwaizumi said. “Well, that and I don’t think anyone wants to pay for all of those, so …”

Daichi did not know how much money the court had, but as someone coming from Karasuno of all places, money was a strange concept to him anyway. Living there for most of his life had accustomed him to many people simply stealing what they wanted, and the few honest people like him who managed to sell things had to do it for ridiculously low prices, since nobody could afford anything else. He missed his home sometimes, sewers and crime and blacked out drunk people lying in the streets in the middle of the day and all, but he had to admit Aoba’s infrastructure was far more inviting for shopkeepers like him.

“No problem, just be more careful next time.”

For someone who appeared as sturdy as Iwaizumi, he sure had a way to ruin a perfectly fine training weapon. Or perhaps he should have blamed it on that student of his, whoever they were, but in actual battle, the opponent would not hold back in fear of breaking their enemy’s sword either, so it was probably good this had happened now.

Sugawara had once said that he did not know how Daichi could survive working in such heat every day, but he did not mind it at all. He would rather have the heat than the cold, and while it was a taxing task, it was a satisfying one as well. Daichi had never considered himself the artistic type, but crafting something special was gratifying, and he liked knowing that his work had a purpose. This weapon he was repairing right now would help teaching someone things that could save their life down the line, a cause he wholeheartedly supported.

He wiped the sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt in between hits, then returned his attention to the sword in front of him, but before that, he saw Iwaizumi slip into the back room with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Our old blacksmith used a lot of magic to help her out,” he said, cocking his head. “But you don’t look like you do.”

“Oh, I’m about as magically talented as a brick wall,” Daichi answered with a laugh. He had given up on trying to work with magic a long time ago, even the store-bought products that supposedly everybody could cast spells with seemed to hate him. He rather trusted his own two hands and the strength and experience he had acquired over the years than flimsy magic he could not get a grasp on. “What about you?”

“Yeah, same here. I’ll leave the magic to those who actually know how to use it.”

“That’s unusual from someone of your stand,” he remarked. He did not know much about how it worked on the court, but most people tended to see magic ability as a status symbol rather than something to avoid. Maybe it was not as important for knights, though, since they did all the physical fighting instead.

He stood up straight and inspected his work – it would need a bit of time to cool down, but mostly, it should have been fine, so he turned to face Iwaizumi, who, surprisingly, was quietly laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I think you have the wrong idea,” Iwaizumi said and ran a hand through his hair almost bashfully. “I may be a knight, but I’m not from a rich family or anything. We were just barely getting by when I was young.”

“Oh,” Daichi muttered in lack of a better answer. He had simply assumed he had been of a higher stand, but perhaps he had gotten into the royal guard by skill alone. On the other hand, his somewhat rugged appearance that did not quite seem to want to fit the shining armour he was wearing made a bit more sense now. “Sorry for assuming.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing I’m ashamed of.” That was reflected in his face, as well. If anything, he looked proud of his heritage, and it reminded Daichi of himself a bit, and how he would never hesitate to tell anyone where he came from.

Despite their professions, it looked like they were not all that different.

Chapter Text

“Seriously, how do you keep doing it?”

Iwaizumi shrugged under Daichi’s judgemental gaze, innocent as a lamb. This time, he had brought a shield that had been split in three differently sized shards that did not seem to be saveable in any way. It was not one of the tough, ornamented ones the royal guard carried, but it did not seem to be a training shield either, as it looked somewhat high quality … As high quality as a breakable shield got, anyway.

“Please don’t tell me you’re letting that student of yours run around freely. If they continue doing this, I’ll fear for my life next time I go outside.”

“Oh, this wasn’t him,” Iwaizumi corrected him and Daichi raised an eyebrow in question. “I did it, actually. I was training with my friend and I think I overdid it.”

He eyed him suspiciously, letting his eyes wander over the knight’s body. With the armour protecting him, it was hard to guess how muscular he was, but he assumed he had to be quite strong if he was able to break a decent shield in a training fight. Half of him wanted to ask him to take that armour off so he could be proven right, but that would have certainly been uncalled for. Although he did wonder.

“Thank the gods I’ve taken over, you people need new equipment. How are you supposed to fight a war with that?” At least Iwaizumi’s sword was still beautiful as ever, sitting on his back in what looked to be a new sheath, dark teal and decorated with silver leaves.

Iwaizumi’s expression darkened at Daichi’s words. “Not at all. Our goal is peace.”

The words hung in the air, dark and heavy, like a blanket over the good mood from moments before. Daichi knew what he was referencing; recently, Shiratorizawa had been much more aggressive in its messages to the queen, and it was not hard to tell that everybody was worried. According to Iwaizumi, the prince especially held a grudge against them, and the knight himself did not seem to be too fond of them either – but de-escalation was their primary goal now, and personal feelings had to be put aside.

“If worst comes to worst, you’ll have to fight to protect your kingdom,” he argued regardless, shaking his head. “And if I can aid you in that battle in any way, I will. If something happened to you that I could have prevented, I could never forgive myself.”

His eyes softened and the smallest smile appeared on his lips, one that he would have thought to be unsuited for him when in reality, it only made him appear more genuine and … Prettier … Hold on, Daichi, you’re his blacksmith, you’re supposed to be professional.

Admittedly, he could not be blamed for finding him attractive, but it was a losing battle either way. Despite their similar upbringings, he doubted he was worthy of even considering the possibility of being with a knight of the royal guard. It was not his world, all bright and shiny; he belonged in the dark corners of his shop, blacksmith hammer in hand and clothes drenched with sweat and dirt.

“So, think you can fix it?” Iwaizumi asked and Daichi blinked, needing a few seconds to remember why he was even here. His gaze fell on the broken shield on his table and he sighed heavily.

“I think that one’s gone for good. If I tried really hard, I suppose I could, but at this rate, it’d be more efficient to just give you a new one.”

He laughed, a deep and warm sound that reminded him of home. “If you say so. Sorry for inconveniencing you again.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be used to it very quickly.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about …”

He liked watching him.

At first, it had been curiosity about his craft – it had been the first time he had seen someone work without magic, or at least the first time he had cared. Seeing Daichi’s efficient movements, not a single one of them unnecessary, was genuinely interesting.

After a few times, though, he had started looking less at the progress and more at the man doing it.

By now, he had admitted to himself that he was interested in him in more ways than one. It did not help that they got along anyway, as they were similar in many ways despite their different occupations, and it was just nice to spend time with him. He felt like they could actually work instead of being a pointless crush based on physical attraction alone.

And perhaps that broken shield had not actually been broken by him, but he had rather found it in one of their storage room that had been supposed to be thrown away with some other trash.

(If he was starting to make excuses to see him so quickly, he was going to run out of them just as fast – right now Hajime could not really be bothered to care, though.)

“Should I copy the ornaments on it or do you not need them?” Daichi asked, pointing at the broken shield.

“I don’t know, I don’t think they really care. I don’t want to waste more of your time, either, so do it how you like.” The fact that he was already wasting his time by bringing in such utterly useless things was another thing entirely; at least they would end up with a new shield, which he considered fairly important as well. You could never have enough … Especially not in their current situation.

He knew Daichi had not meant any harm by mentioning war, but now the thought of it was on his mind, and he thought back to the concerned expression of the queen after their last meeting. Things were not looking good, and he hated that he was not able to change it on his own. If he had had the capability of saving his country alone, he would have done it, but recently, even as a royal knight, he was feeling powerless.

“Hm … I do have quite some work to do …”

Those words made Hajime feel a little guilty, and perhaps next time he should find something that did not eat away from Daichi’s time too much. “Ah, you don’t have to hurry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We do have enough supplies, I was just hoping …” His words trailed off into nothing when he realised that he had not thought this far. He had been hoping for what? To talk to Daichi, of course, but he could not say that out loud. Or, well, he likely could, but that would have made things awkward … As if this had not been awkward enough, and heat rose into his cheeks painting what he feared to be a very obvious blush on his face. “Y’know.”

Hajime did not have much experience with being in love, but he supposed this was part of it too – making an absolute idiot of yourself.

Hold on, since when was he in love?

“‘Y’know’,” Daichi repeated with a raised eyebrow and an unbelieving smile. “I’m starting to think the queen has sent you to test my skill.”

“Oh, that’s not how it is at all!” Although she had winked at him after she had officially appointed Daichi as the court blacksmith. That, and she had said “he’s cute, isn’t he?” to him while very unsubtly staring at Daichi. So maybe he was not that wrong after all.

(Oikawa Shiida was not what most people would have considered queenly, title or no.)

“I guess the rest is classified?”

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Admittedly, he had every reason not to, considering that Hajime was currently lying as to not show his true intentions, but he did not need to know that.

“Not one bit,” Daichi said and laughed, a sound far too pleasant to be allowed. Daichi had said he was not adept at magic, but sometimes, Hajime wondered how true that was. He felt like he had an affinity to the earth hidden within him.

Or perhaps Hajime was just seeing things. Was this what they meant by love making blind? And he seriously needed to slow down calling it that – he did not know Daichi enough to actually proclaim his love for him.

One thing he did know was that he wanted to get to know him though, and maybe one day say it for real.