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Fridays were Ari’s favourite for obvious reasons. Arriving at the inn after a long day of mining instantly alleviated much of the week’s accumulated stress. It was a good way to catch up with everyone. He might even claim that it was the event that made him fall in love with Mistria and its tight-knit community.
“What’s it gonna be today?” Hemlock set a glass of water in front of Ari first, to which his parched throat was grateful.
“Could I trouble you with whipping up that fruit cocktail again?” The older man exhaled
through his nose in a chuckle.
“As polite as ever. The youngsters here could take some notes.” The bartender got to mixing. ‘Youngsters’ presumably referred to the line of patrons extending to the end of the table from Ari’s right. Youngster #1 laughed, knowing the words didn't apply to him.
“I think Ari is this polite with everyone, Uncle Hemlock.” Ryis was sipping some coffee, likely planning to pull an all-nighter on a crafting project. “Well, almost everyone.”
“He has you people completely fooled. I’m not taking notes from him!” Youngster #2 chimed in, offended. With a small laugh, Ari took his drink and found a seat next to the blacksmith.
“I think you're fine just the way you are, March. Never change.” A simple and honest smile already struck the redhead's nerves. March huffed and took a swig of beer. “Don’t look so smug! I can change for the better too. Valen said it!” He pointed down the table. Ari quirked an eyebrow at the odd statement. His eyes followed the pointed finger over to the doctor’s seat.
“Oh, right. My diagnosis was ‘a growth of character’.” Valen was rather amused by the tipsy blacksmith repeating her words. Ryis sighed softly.
“Take it easy, March. You’re only on your second drink…” The blacksmith's normally crowded head empties out quickly with minuscule amounts of alcohol, Ari had come to learn.
“I keep saying it, but it's because you people insist on drinking cheap beer.” Juniper took a haughty sip of red wine at the left end of the table. As usual, she was seated next to the town doctor.
“I’m not sure if we're the insistent ones, Juniper.” Valen wore her characteristic smirk, earning her rival's contempt.
“Hmph,” The bathhouse owner crossed her arms. “Balor is working on a certain request of mine. Get ready to have those glasses blown off next week, doc.” Ari could hear a lot of confidence in her voice. He wondered how much more expensive wine tasting he was going to witness on this table.
“Juni has a strong competitive spirit!” the blacksmith giggled, unknowingly making the farmer choke on his drink. “I hope I get to try the wine before she spills it this time,” he added in a conspiratorial tone as if he didn't want the bathhouse owner to hear.
“Her and March are a lot alike in that way, aren't they?” Hayden chimed in good-naturedly as he took a seat next to them. He set a cup of hot toddy on the table. “They get fired up over strange things.”
“I have to agree. I always wondered how they got along.” Ryis responded thoughtfully. “It was the same with the drinking games.”
Ari cleared his throat with much effort to look up quickly. “Drinking games?” Next, Hayden's sudden bellowing laughter almost knocked him off the bar stool.
“Those games!! I’m not much of a drinker myself, but it was a show!” the older farmer proclaimed.
Collectively, it seemed like everyone in the inn suddenly recalled the memory. They all spoke of the one time March and Juniper joined hands to beat their elders in irresponsible drinking.
“We were having a bit of a game night. Everyone was joining up in teams of two and playing,” Ryis began explaining, “I tapped out after a few rounds since I didn’t want to get too drunk, so March went looking for a new teammate.”
“And lo and behold, who was sitting all alone on this very table?” Hayden directed their eyes to where the wine glasses sat.
“Juniper acted like she was above it at first,” Valen said, taking the torch. She eyed her rival with a kind, borderline sarcastic smile. “But our young blacksmith was quite insistent, and someone else is a pushover.”
“What are you calling me?!” the bathhouse owner hit the table.
“Girls, easy there.” Josephine de-escalated the potential fight with a motherly smile as she passed by. Ari was surprised to find Juniper backing down. Though he does remember the witch mentioning reverence for older women as part of her homeland’s culture.
“They started playing together and became almost unstoppable that night. Flip cup, quarters, spicy shots, beer pong, you name it.” The rancher continued. Ari nodded along, taking in the story with great interest.
“I’m surprised March didn't pass out after a few rounds.” Ari tilted his head and eyed the zoned-out blacksmith. “He really won so many games?”
“He’s a disaster who can't hold his liquor.” The bathhouse owner finally joined the conversation. She twirled a purple lock of hair, feigning annoyance at the memory. “We still ended up losing because he passed out in the middle of it.”
Ryis leaned closer to whisper some more context. “They challenged Terithia and Errol last. You can imagine the result,” the carpenter chuckled. Ari laughed as well. “It all makes sense.”
“But he put up a good fight. Being so drunk yet coordinated is impressive.” The museum curator himself added. One wouldn't expect Errol to encourage such dangerous behavior, yet he seemed to take as much joy in the memory as everyone else.
“But Juniper was so cool!” Olric suddenly exclaimed. “She drinks wine all the time. Who knew she could party like that!” The older brother sounded a little drunk himself, but it was hard for Ari to tell sometimes.
“And they were laughing so much after. I don't think I have seen these two look so happy before…” Celine chuckled awkwardly. She seemed slightly disturbed by the memory. Ari doubted she was that interested in getting drunk and wild herself.
“What a lovely bonding moment it was!” Elsie spoke fondly. “It is too bad that Valen banned these games.”
And so another discussion about the incident that banned the games began.
Though Ari kept trying to listen, too many people started talking at once, and their voices mixed. He lowered his head and took a few sips of alcohol. He assumed he could ask for details later, so he let the conversation flow without him.
“You’ve been quiet for a while.” Snapping his attention up once more, Ari saw that it was March who spoke to him. The drunk blacksmith had his face propped on his arm and a small smile on it, no longer spacing out as he previously saw him. Ari ignored the palpitations in his chest. “Oh, I'm just trying to drink.” He raised his almost empty glass. The alcohol had settled with a warm sensation in his stomach, but Ari couldn't feel it in his veins yet.
“Oh.” the blacksmith paused. He blinked as he stared at the glass, then suddenly his face flashed brighter than the afternoon sun. “Since you're almost done, can I buy you a drink?”
Silence followed.
The surprise must have been evident on Ari’s face because the drunk blacksmith proceeded to tilt his head with a questioning frown. “Or…you don't want one?” the question snapped him back into reality.
“No, no no! That's not what I meant!” the farmer scrambled to get his words out. His hands shot over to grab the blacksmith's shoulders. “Please buy me a drink!” Ari simply couldn't believe his ears at first. Whether intentionally or not, March was flirting with him!
“O…kay. Then!” He enthusiastically waved to Reina. “Ari wants another drink. Put it on my tab!” March’s oblivious announcement brought back the attention of fellow patrons. A certain Opera Singer’s face filled with delight.
“My my! Even our young blacksmith is growing adventurous in matters of the heart!” She placed her hand to her heart, looking proud as if he was one of her nephews too.
Olric, who was crushing the adults at the cards table, looked away again to give an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Bro, I knew you could do it!” to which made the redhead confused.
“Do what?” March's brows furrowed. “Ari gives me a lot of gifts. I have to return the favor sometimes, right?” The calm way in which he responded stumped the farmer. Ari looked between the new drink that was brought to him and the Blacksmith's honest expression. Disappointment settled in his chest with a small sigh.
“It’s okay, anything from March makes me happy.” He put on a brave face and took a sip. Ari didn’t care much for alcohol outside of socializing, and he admittedly did little of that before coming to Mistria. In truth, he couldn’t claim himself all that better at handling his liquor than March was, minus the personality change.
“I saw some of the metalwork you sold through Balor. That pickaxe was very well made.” The blacksmith started chatting with him. Ari’s head was fogging up. March’s happy expression was just a little blurrier.
“Oh, that? I forged a new silver one recently. I’m saving up for a bigger barn, so I sold some of my old tools for cash.” Ari felt warm. He wondered if it was the alcohol or the company. The fact that March was praising him didn't register completely. He simply found himself smiling and going along with the conversation. He continued. “Oh, but your work is still much better! I bought my sword from the shop while Olric was around. The handle fits much more comfortably than my old one!”
The drunk blacksmith tilted his head questioningly. “You’re…saving up for a barn, but you spent 3,000 tesserae at the shop?” The farmer was pulled out of his thoughts by that surprisingly sharp observation. “They’re not even on display.” March continued and Ari stuttered to voice his thought process.
“I-I asked Olric to look around. I needed a new sword to manage downstairs with all the monsters, and purchasing a barn was a later thought!” March regarded his response with a hum. Ari couldn’t tell what was going on between those indecipherable black eyes.
“Besides…I hoped I could be a little helpful. You said you missed making swords, right?” And so he occasionally buys his equipment, like swords or armor, from the shop to encourage the blacksmith. “I would go crazy too if I had to make nails every day. It sounds so tedious!” Ari rubbed the back of his neck. The farmer could no longer tell what the look on March’s face was. His drunk expressions were somehow harder to read than his regular ones. He guessed that a regular March would frown, tell him he doesn’t need the charity, and change the topic. Ari didn’t expect anything beyond that scope.
A kiss was hardly what he expected.
Ari could have blacked out on the spot. It didn’t matter that March had only touched his face with his lips, those details were of so little importance. He didn't even care that he didn't feel the kiss itself very well.
Because it still happened! The blacksmith giggled with adorable mischief. The farmer might have to thank Caldarus for keeping his soul connected to the mortal realm because it could have gladly ascended to the worlds beyond.
“You’re a big softie. I don’t hate nail-making that much.”
His heart could burst.
“Forging swords is fun, but I have my attention on other projects.”
“I-I see.” Ari croaked, covering his cheek.
“I saw it!! Mister March smooched Ari!!” Dell yelled from upstairs, pointing aggressively at the two. The farmer practically squawked, “Dell, no!!”
Naturally, eyes gathered around them.
“What substantial character growth.” The doctor sounded all too happy.
“I didn’t think he had the guts to do it.” Juniper almost seemed impressed.
“Come on, lovebirds, there are kids around.” even Hemlock wasn't his ally in that situation. He winked at them with a laugh.
“G-guys…”
Ari quickly whipped his head toward March for help, but the redhead was too drunk to refute any allegations, only sober enough to sit there and smile all happy. Ari didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Alright, settle down everyone. Our dear Ari looks red enough to pass out.” His savior, guardian angel Josephine interrupted. She brought steaming bowls of soup for the patrons, hoping to occupy them. The innkeeper also placed a steaming bowl in front of him. Ari offered a thankful smile for her kindness.
“It smells especially good today.” He complimented. The older woman smiled warmly in return. “You think so? Reina used the fresh mushrooms you brought this morning! Please enjoy, dear.” The soup was as warm and comforting as the people who made it. Ari felt his stress seeping away with each spoonful.
Peeking beside him, the same seemed to apply to the blacksmith, whose face grew relaxed. Ari had no way of telling what had been going on in his head. He doubted March would remember it either the next morning. In the end, that kiss could have simply been one of the blacksmith’s drunken whims.
“Wake up, March, or your face is going to end up in the soup.” Reina was pulling the redhead up by his shoulders. He was blinking and slowly closing his eyes. “He’s probably ready to head home.” Ryis shook his friend’s shoulder too, to no avail.
“I’m…not…” It was of little use. Ari peeked yet again. Ryis and Reina’s eyes fell on him. The cook offered a friendly smile.
“You look like you could use some rest too, Ari.” the farmer blinked in response. Glancing at the wall clock, it did point past 12 AM. “Uh- yeah, I should head home soon.”
Olric soon emerged into the scene to inspect his sleepy brother. “Errol was still in the middle of his story...” the former miner sighed, clearly disappointed by the idea of leaving early.
It was at times like these where Ari’s people-pleasing tendencies reared their ugly head. “Hey, it’s fine. I can walk him home then head to mine.” Before he could finish his words, Olric’s eyes had already lit up, and he had grabbed his hands. “Bro! Ari! You’re a lifesaver!” Ari was sure then that the older brother had had a good few beers.
With a slap on the back and a thumbs up for good luck, Ari departed the inn with a tired March around his shoulders. It wasn’t that hard to walk with the blacksmith, but while his legs were working, his head had completely rested under Ari’s. Soft breath tickled his neck. The chill decorating the air did not help the goosebumps on his skin. His solace was in the few words the blacksmith would mumble to him on their journey.
“The chocolate cake you made us yesterday was good… Olric was asking about the recipe.” Ari listened with a small hum.
“I could teach you two. Borrowing the inn's kitchen shouldn't be a problem.” Ari considered it his training grounds after all. His companion almost slipped, and he quickly steadied him.
“I thought…you had a kitchen at the farm,” March replied. Ari pulled them to their feet as they kept walking.
“I do, but I thought the walk might be too far from the forge.” It was a little less than an hour's walk after all.
“That’s true… It’s fine. I’m not all that fond of animals.” Ari could imagine it. March was the kind of person cats would hiss at.
“Mine are friendly. Have you ever held a bunny?”
The blacksmith hummed. He slowly shook his head. “No.”
Ari chuckled. “You should try it. It's pretty therapeutic!” He received another hum in response. The blacksmith was slipping away.
“Just a few more steps, March. You're almost home.” The shop was ahead of them. The place wasn't lit up by the forge like it usually is during the rest of the week, and looked rather cold behind the piling snow.
Ari turned the knob. It was left open, one of the usual things you would find in Mistria and one of the things he was still baffled by. The showroom was dim and a little cold. “See? You’re home now.” The sleepy blacksmith blinked. Ari saw his head lift and take in the surroundings. He heard a cough.
“I need water.” March dislodged himself and walked off. “Hey, I can get it for you!” Ari hurriedly followed. He narrowly managed to rescue the blacksmith from slipping on the carpet.
“Seriously, just wait in your room.” A drunk March was a lot less stubborn than a sober March, but he was harder to manage as well.
“You should drink water too.” He was told. Ari opened his mouth, suddenly aware of how his lips almost stuck together from dehydration. “Someone should fuss over you, too...” March added. Ari felt his pulse picking up, but it wasn’t what he wanted to linger on at the moment.
“Just wait in your room, okay? I’m getting water for both of us.” Ari finally suggested and March nodded, but the farmer felt more seen through than he expected to be in the blacksmith's presence.
The brothers’ kitchen was pretty bare, only containing basic utensils and living equipment. The stove seemed a little old too, which felt out of place with the pristine and well-organized home. The only new-looking piece of equipment he could see was a rice pot. Ari made note of how the blacksmith seemed to have a preference for rice bowls as meals. The piece of kitchenware made sense with that observation.
Ari took a drink of water. His lips hurt as he licked them. He could feel a dull pain in his head, usually the beginning of a much worse headache. Glancing at the wall clock, it was a quarter to one. His limbs felt a little heavier.
“Are you still awake?” Ari entered the room. The blacksmith was already lying down on his side, arm tucked under his head despite the perfectly good pillow next to him.
“And you were the one insisting...” Ari sighed tiredly. He set the cup by the bed and stepped a little closer. March hadn’t bothered to take off his headband, or even his shoes for that matter. The blacksmith was guaranteed an uncomfortable night, especially without his covers.
“You have no right to complain about me tomorrow after I’ve been so helpful.” Ari pulled the shoes off the sleeping drunk and carefully tried loosening his headband. The blacksmith was a lighter sleeper than he expected because the small movements made him stir. March opened a single eye to look at the farmer.
“You still haven’t left…” Those words were not spoken with the annoyance Ari expected. March simply made the observation.
“I was about to leave.” Ari’s reflexive answer also came out softer than he intended.
“No point to.” March took his hand, and Ari didn’t fight it. He was pulled into the grace of the soft bed.
It smelled like March, everywhere. Ari came to associate the smell of sage with the blacksmith, but the bedsheets smelled like the person himself too. The sleeping redhead was warm. He went right back into his slumber after pulling the farmer in. March seemed to think nothing of it, and Ari too couldn't think too hard about it anymore either. His eyelids were failing him. Despite the drumming in his chest and the heat rising to his face, they fluttered shut. The view of the blacksmith’s relaxed face gradually blurred. Ari closed his eyes and gave in to his exhaustion.
The bed he woke up to was empty. Ari could see the shelf of trophies lining the wall, so he concluded his location with some ease. He slowly sat up. His head didn't hurt as much as he expected. The room was also kept dim; little light could bother his eyes. Ari could faintly hear the sound of hammers striking the anvil. The brothers were up early and working away.
Ari rubbed sleep off his face and eventually got to his feet. He exited the shop and went to check on the forge. Sure enough, March was working in the early morning cold.
“You’re up.” The blacksmith was completely sober. He didn't even seem hungover. He spoke rather nonchalantly.
“I think I overslept. You have a nice bed.” Nonchalance was not a lasting emotion on March's face as the characteristic frown settled.
“You sure got comfortable.”
Ari chuckled. “To be fair, I was invited.” The farmer took a few steps closer. He didn't plan on teasing the blacksmith further about the events of the previous night. He didn't want the antics to stop after all, but Ari quickly realized that his few words were already lethal. Facing away from him toward the forge, March was red down to his neck.
“When you pass out on someone’s bed, at least remember to take your shoes off first.”
“Huh?”
Ari ignored the irony of the words and let their meaning settle in.
So he could do it again??