Heart of Steel
Summary: "I want you to teach me how to use a sword." How Charming learnt about friendship, love and the art of wielding steel.
A/N: So this plot bunny bit me when I was writing a drabble fic about how David knows how to use a gun which got me thinking…how did he learn how to use a sword since he obviously knew how to wield one against the dragon when he couldn't even do his armour up properly. Thus this fic was born! It involves an OC I am quite fond of and I hope you all love him too.
Disclaimer: OUAT and all of its characters belong to ABC…all I own is two OUAT necklaces from Etsy my mum bought me because she knows my love for this show knows no bounds.
David was bored.
His mama had brought him with her into the village while she ran some errands but had gotten caught up gossiping with the baker's wife. Standing with his small hand curled into the fabric of her dress, he looked around the marketplace hoping to see one of the few village boys he could call friend (there weren't many). Instead his eyes caught on something shiny off to left, glinting in the sunlight. With a small glance upwards to make sure his mama was still busy, he crept away from her side then made a dash for it through the busy street, dodging nimbly around carts and heavy boots.
He skidded to a halt in a small cloud of dust, eyes wide as he looked up at what had caught his attention. Hanging from rusted hooks were five gleaming swords, blades polished to perfection and hilts wrapped in finest leather. They were swaying ever so slightly with the breeze and David couldn't take his eyes off of them. He'd seen swords before…his papa had a few stashed away just in case of thieves. But those were old and rusty, nothing like the ones before him…and nothing like the small wooden one he used when playing around the farm.
"Thing of beauty, aren't they now Lad."
He stumbled backwards at the gruff voice, feet slipping slightly in the dirt. A large yet gentle hand reached out to steady him, clasping onto his shoulder with hesitation.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya."
David finally looked up and into sad blue eyes. They belonged to a man with a grizzled face, a thick grey beard covering most of it. His hair was just as grey, pulled back at the nape of his neck with a leather tie, the tips of it brushing against the worn and dirty tunic and apron he wore. A large mallet was held in his free hand, the head of it almost as big as David's and was marked with scratches and nicks.
As David stared, the man nodded his head towards the swords.
"Like swords do ya?"
He managed to nod his head and the man's face broke into a small smile.
"Me too…though I've never really liked any that I didn't make myself."
"You made those?" David blurted out before he could stop himself, his cheeks flushing lightly at the outburst.
"Sure did. Would you like to hold one?"
David's eyes lit up but before he could say anything, he heard his mama's shrill voice above the chatter of the crowd.
"David! There you are, I was so worried!"
He found himself being swept up in a tight hug, embarrassment running through him at his mama's actions but he'd never say anything to her. He knew he shouldn't have wandered off.
"I'm sorry if he was disturbing you sir," his mama told the man politely once she had finally let David out of her arms.
"He wasn't at all ma'am. He was just admiring the swords and I always have time for anyone interested in my work. I'm Masen, the new blacksmith."
"Masen?"
"Back here Lad!"
David squeezed through the cluttered mess of metal and tools, hands holding the basket above his head to avoid it being dirtied by the fine metallic dust which seemed to coat every surface. He finally made it to the back of the workshop to find Masen hunched over, running a newly formed sword against a grindstone to sharpen its edges.
Ever since the day they'd met, David would come and watch the blacksmith at work while his mama purchased what she needed from the marketplace. He found it a small respite from the endless chores he had to carry out on the farm and was endlessly fascinated by the whole process. He'd found a friend in Masen too. He had always had trouble making friends his own age…he was more sensitive and focused than many of the young boys in the village and found it easier to talk to adults.
The old man might have looked a little scary, but he was kind and patient…if not constantly somewhat sad. David didn't know why that was and he didn't feel like it was right to ask. He was sure it had something to do why someone of Masen's talent was working in a tiny village but for the moment, he was happy to just be able to watch him work and have a chance to hold swords so fine he would never be able to afford their ilk.
"What did ya bring me today?"
David pulled a small loaf of sweet bread out of the basket.
"Ah, my favourite," Masen grinned, placing the sword down carefully and breaking a chunk off the offered loaf. He always took less than half and made sure David ate the rest…he knew it was his favourite too.
"Who are the swords for?" David asked around a mouthful of food (if he'd done that around his mother, she would have gently tapped him upside the head in punishment). He'd come to realize that people requested Masen's swords from all around and he loved to hear stories of the far-away places they would be sent to.
"These? These are for knights belonging to a kingdom on the edge of the realm. The last batch they had made by a different swordsmith cracked under the stress of battle. No sword of mine will ever do that."
Masen winked in his direction and David just shook his head at the old man's playful arrogance.
"It must be amazing to be a knight. To know you're protecting the people and traveling all across the land."
David's voice was slightly wistful. He knew he'd never leave the farm. It would pass to him from his father one day and he was determined not to let his papa down.
"You'd be surprised Lad…"
The abrupt gruffness in Masen's voice made him look up in surprise but the man in question was already turning back to the grindstone…though not before David caught a fleeting expression of deep pain and sorrow flash across his face.
He didn't know exactly what he meant, but he never wanted to experience something which could cause that much pain to such a kind man.
His father was gone.
Dead.
Never coming back.
He'd fallen ill during the winter and by the first days of spring he and his mother were burying him underneath his favourite willow tree on the edge of the farm.
He felt…he didn't know what to feel. He'd kept it together for his mother, standing strong in the face of her overwhelming grief. He'd cried once in solitude when his father had first passed but he'd pushed his grief aside to keep the farm running while his mother wasn't quite capable of doing it herself. Now weeks had passed and everything seemed to be closing in on him…he didn't know what to do. He'd found himself hurling words at his mother that he didn't mean and to escape, he'd run to the far boundary of their property and collapsed in a heap against the rickety fence.
Lost in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice the approaching footsteps until a familiar hand clasped his shoulder.
"Oh Lad," Masen sighed as he lowered his aging frame onto the grass next to him.
Silence fell between them, punctuated only by the call of nearby birds until Masen began to speak more words than David had ever heard him say.
"In my youth, I was a knight in service to a kingdom far from here. I reveled in the authority it gave me and the adventure which came with it. I was arrogant and fool-hardy but good with a sword and that held me in good stead. One day, a small troop of us took shelter overnight in a small inn…and that's when I first laid eyes on her. She was small yet fiery, refined yet brave with tumbling red curls and sea-green eyes. She was the inn-keeper's daughter and I fell in love with her the first time she opened her mouth to berate me for my manners at the table. For reasons unknown, I managed to court her enough til she felt the same way about me. But I was unwilling to let go of the prestige my position afforded me and kept traveling the lands. I would only see her for a few days at a time and though I knew she would never ask, I could see the hurt and disappointment every time I left."
Masen took in a deep breath, voice cracking slightly as he continued.
"When her father fell ill, she finally asked me to stay…to help shoulder her burdens. Even though I knew I loved her, I felt momentarily trapped and we fought. I left with harsh words hanging between us but it took me all of a week to realize I had been wrong…that nothing was worth more in this world than her. I returned, ready to beg for forgiveness on bended knee but I was too late. The owner of the neighbouring property had designs on their land and fed up with her and her father's stubbornness to sell, he burnt the inn to the ground. She perished trying to rescue her father."
His head fell forward, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
"I did not let myself mourn and threw myself recklessly into my work. I almost cost several innocent men their lives with my behavior and I knew then I could not continue on as I had. I resigned from the king's service and found my calling in making swords instead of wielding them. I vowed to live my life in honour of hers…simple yet with meaning."
At this, he grasped David's hands within his own, his eyes once more clear and determined.
"Mourn your father, but then live your life as he would have wanted you to. You are a strong boy David, one with far more conviction than I had at your age. Ya will get past this."
David threw his arms around the older man's neck, hugging him gratitude even though the words themselves would not come…though others did.
"What was her name?"
"Emma…her name was Emma."
"That's a pretty name," David mumbled into the fabric of Masen's tunic.
"I've always thought so."
It was the sound of loud bleating which woke David from his slumber. Even half asleep, he was attuned to the nuances of the calls their sheep made and these were definitely that of distress. Heedless of what awaited him, he grasped at the long staff by his bedside and raced outside before his mother had even begun to stir.
In the pale light of the moon, he could see a couple of dark figures trying to herd some of the sheep through the hole they'd made in the boundary fence, canes raised in their hands. They had obviously tried to do so quietly but when the sheep had not obeyed, they'd resorted to the violent methods which had caused the bleats of distress to ring out into the clear night.
"Hey!"
David yelled at the top of his voice, hoping that the surprise of being disturbed would be enough to cause the thieves to flee. In this case, it appeared it would as the two figures jerked upwards then ran full pelt away from where David was standing, dropping their canes in their haste. With a sigh of relief that he would not have to fight, David quickly went about erecting a makeshift fix for the fence which would hold until morning.
He knew he was lucky they had no wish to continue or react once caught but it would not always be so. It was his responsibility to protect the farm and his mother now and the small amount of skill he had wielding the staff would not be enough if thieves with less scruples and more bravery tried to rob them.
There was only one thing he could do.
And so the next afternoon, once the fence had been repaired, he marched into Masen's shop with head held high.
"I want you to teach me how to use a sword."
Thrust.
Parry.
Block.
Turn.
Thrust.
Win.
"I surrender," Masen called jokingly, dropping his sword in the face of the point of David's at his throat.
A year of squeezing in as many lessons as they could amongst Masen's work and David's responsibilities had transformed the young man from a naturally nimble and coordinated boy into a fierce swordsman, one who had easily beaten his mentor in their sparring for the last two months straight.
"You always surrender," David grinned, gratefully taking a drink from the mug resting on the ground near their feet.
"That's because a wise man knows when he is beaten, and you Lad, have had me beaten for a long time now."
Before he could reply, they were momentarily interrupted as two blonde girls from the village wandered past, blushing and giggling quietly as they snuck glances at David. The once lanky boy had filled out over the last year and drew more than his fair share of attention whenever he was in the village. But Masen watched as David nodded at them with nothing more than a friendly if distant smile.
"Not ya type?"
David turned back to him and shook his head slightly.
"I want…I want what my parents had. What you had with your Emma. I do not have much to offer, but when I fall in love, she will know she is the only one to ever have all of me."
He looked so earnest in that moment, and Masen knew whoever captured David's heart would be blessed with a partner devoted above all others.
Though a moment later, the teenage boy he was peeked through when he grinned cheekily and winked.
"Besides, I prefer my girl to be dark-haired."
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
David's voice was quiet as he watched the last of the trunks being hoisted up onto the cart.
"I'm sure," Masen said quietly, checking the straps to make sure nothing would fall off on the journey.
An old friend from his knight days had sent a letter asking for Masen's assistance in training his son to be a swordsmith. Masen owed the man his life and could not turn down the favour he was now finally asking in return.
He turned to David, clasping his hands onto his shoulders in a familiar gesture.
"I've taught ya everything I know and even if ya never use it for more than the defense of your farm, know that I have not seen a finer swordsman in many years."
David nodded slowly, a small smile of thanks crossing his lips at the compliment.
"I have been proud to call ya friend for all these years and will continue to do so for the rest of my days. You have grown up into a fine young man, one that I am sure your father would be proud of just as I am. You are destined for great things, of that I have no doubt."
Masen's words were strong, even as his voice cracked slightly.
David drew him into a hug full of all the gratitude for everything Masen had given him through the years.
"I will miss you my friend," he said when he pulled back, wiping at the lone tear which had escaped his control.
"As I will you."
The old man climbed into the driver's seat of the cart, pulling the reins taut in his hand.
"Take care of that mother of yours."
"I will."
"And I expect a letter when ya finally manage to catch yourself a true love of your own…despite your mother's meddling."
David laughed. He had spoken many times of all the hints his mother had dropped about the girls in the village but none had caught his attention.
"I will. Safe journey."
At that Masen chuckled, "It will be far more interesting if it's not."
With a crack of the reins, he set off…David watching until the cart was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.
"Who are you writing to?"
Snow peeked over his shoulder, the small curve of her stomach preventing her from pressing as close as she would like. As it was, her thick ebony hair fell over the parchment and he gently brushed it aside with a small chuckle.
"An old friend," David replied, placing the letter within the envelope and closing it with the official waxy seal of their kingdom.
"An old friend?" she questioned, yelping slightly when he suddenly tugged her down onto his lap and pressed a kiss to her ruby lips.
"Yes…his name is Masen."
And together they sat, into the waning light of dusk, as he spoke of his friend and all he had to thank him for.
Days later, the envelope was returned unopened with a small letter accompanying it.
Snow held her husband as he cried over the news his dear friend had passed away a mere month before, the only comfort coming from the fact he had died peacefully in his sleep.
Months later, when baby names had become an everyday discussion, Snow found herself being held in gratitude after she suggested Masen if it was a boy…or Emma for a girl.