Work Text:
Jemma yawned as she settled in her armchair with the book she had purchased during her last visit to the village. The rain had just started falling in a thick curtain but the wind had been howling for hours already. The sun hadn't set yet but the sky was dark already, lightning casting a blinding white light through the thin window of her bedroom every few minutes. She had just taken care of the fire on top of the lighthouse and she was now finally free to escape into a better world for a few hours.
She stroked the spine, the words embossed into the leather revealing themselves under her fingers, and carefully opened the book. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the rich smells of new paper and ink, before turning the pages to get to the first chapter. Books had always been her best friends. They had never judged her for who she was and had taken her on the most incredible adventures around the world, giving her a glimpse of what love and romance might feel like for a few hundred pages. Not that she had never had any human friends when she was younger but she never saw them again once their parents learned who Jemma's father was. And that was why Jemma had chosen this lonely life with her books as her only company. Books would never disappoint or betray her. And here, at the end of the Kastell Ac'h Peninsula, she only had to worry about Kahz, the tiny cat who had decided to live with her, and his tendency to chase seagulls despite the birds often being much bigger and more susceptible to eat him than him to eat them.
Jemma had only just reached chapter two when her doorbell rang. Rolling her eyes, she ignored it and went back to reading. It was probably just the wind or some of the village children trying to get a thrill out of bothering the village monster. But then the doorbell rang a second and a third time and Jemma huffed as she closed her book and walked towards the small window overlooking the long path leading out of the rocky shores and towards the village.
There was indeed someone at the door but it wasn't a child or even one of the town's ladies who sneered at her when they crossed paths during the day and waited for the cover of night to come and ask for spells and potions. Jemma was an excellent healer and proud of it, but sometimes, she wished she had half the powers these women thought she had. Then, maybe she could use them to make her own life less miserable.
The man waiting by the door looked up and Jemma gasped. Although it was impossible from such a distance for a human, she could have sworn the man looked right into her eyes. She stepped back from the window and the bell rang again, startling her. She huffed. It wasn't like her to be surprised by anything, especially not a man, but this one was persistent. And intriguing. His blues eyes were really quite piercing and his clothes were strange, unlike anything she'd ever seen any of the men wear in the village. She took another careful peek through the window. His long coat was flying in the wind and as pretty as it was with the lightning making it gleam, she doubted it did him any good against the wind and rain.
In Armoria, people said that the storms brought evil spirits and you should keep your door closed. But Jemma also knew that people had no idea what they were talking about most of the time. She rather preferred to make her own observations.
Sighing, she took her cape from the hook next to the door, put it around her shoulders and pulled the hood up over her head before starting down the long spiral staircase, following the line of tiny bells connected to the one by the door. The bell had rung twice more by the time she made it to the main door of the lighthouse.
One hand holding her hood in place, Jemma reached for the door and opened it.
The man's eyes widened at the sight of her, his mouth hanging open for a second before it turned into a wide, and seemingly sincere, smile.
"Hello," he simply said and Jemma frowned.
"Hello?" she replied tentatively.
"I'm sorry to have been so insistent," he said. "But the storm took me by surprise." His accent was definitely not from here, maybe from somewhere in the Northern Isles, but not unpleasant. In fact, as she gave him a quick once over, Jemma decided that everything about him was rather pleasant, from his golden curls to his warm smile and elegant, slender figure.
"I'm looking for a place to spend the night," he added.
"This is not an inn," she replied and he laughed.
"Ah yes… I noticed," he said, nodding towards the fire. "But the inn was full and they told me you might be able to help me."
Ah. Of course.
"Well, I'm sorry sir, I'm—"
"Fitz. My name's Fitz," he cut her off.
"I'm sorry Mister Fitz, but I think someone played a joke on you. There's no room for someone else here and I'd rather be left alone."
"Oh," he said, looking dejected. "I, um, I understand. It's not safe for a lady to let a strange man in but I can assure I am totally harmless and I just need—"
"Oh I know," she cut him off. She didn't really but his voice didn't betray any lie and really, someone should have told him that, out of the two of them, she was the one to fear.
His lips pulled up into a hopeful smile and Jemma hated herself for being affected by it. It would do her no good to contemplate such ideas.
"I don't need much really. Just someplace dry to wait out the storm."
Jemma bit her lip. She should say no, close the door and go back to her book. But she wasn't, in fact, the monster people said she was and she knew she would feel terrible if she left this man outside during such a storm. Men were so fragile. She would never forgive herself.
"Please?" he insisted. "I have a little money and I can cook."
"Oh because you also need to eat now?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and he gave her an, admittedly, adorable sheepish smile.
Jemma sighed and opened the door wider to let him in.
"Fine. But just until the end of the storm."
That was just how Kahz had found his way into her home and she didn't need a second mouth to feed.
"Oh that's… That's not what I expected," Fitz said as he walked through the door panting. Jemma couldn't help smirking. There was a lot of stairs and Fitz had tried to keep up with her, not knowing that she had an advantage on him. Men were truly ridiculous sometimes but this one was entertaining. For now at least. "It all looks so…cosy."
Jemma turned around, letting her gaze sweep the room despite knowing every single detail of it. She supposed it wasn't your regular lighthouse lodging with its big wooden bed, the bookshelves covering half of the walls and the tapestries covering the rest of it, making the place warmer than it would have been with its simple stone wall.
"Ah yes, I suppose I have made the place my own," Jemma replied, gesturing for him to walk towards her small but warm and inviting hearth. He kept looking around, seeming both curious and a little impressed, as he moved closer. He sighed contentedly as he approached the fire, his hands becoming almost transparent as the fire danced in his blue eyes. Jemma stepped closer as well.
"And have you been here long Miss…I'm sorry I didn't quite catch your name."
"That's because I didn't tell you." His eyes widened for a moment, his mouth opening and closing several times. Jemma smiled and he relaxed a little. He seemed rather harmless indeed and she liked the way he looked at her books. With interest and a little bit of awe.
"You can call me Jemma. And I've been here for as long as I can remember. As I said, I like to be left alone."
"Oh…Of course. Thank you again for letting me stay and I promise I'll be out the door the moment the storm is over."
"That's alright," Jemma said, knowing full well that she wouldn't throw him out in the middle of the night if the storm stopped so soon, which was rarely the case in Kastell Ac'h anyway. "Come on, let's put your clothes to dry before you catch your death."
Fifteen minutes later, Fitz sat facing the fire with a heavy blanket over the thin shirt he had refused to take off out of respect for her modesty and Kahz was already sound asleep on his lap. Jemma knew it was only because of the blanket and cosy armchair but she couldn't help being a little jealous.
"So Mister Fitz. You're not from around here, are you? What brings you to our desolated lands?"
"Just Fitz is fine. And I don't think these are desolated lands. They're wild and beautiful and, alright maybe a little hostile but that's what makes them even more fascinating."
Jemma frowned. It was hard to see the beauty in a place where you had so few good memories. But for someone who had never seen the high cliffs, rocky shores and moors covered in purple flowers as far as the eye could see, she supposed it could all seem rather romantic. Jemma wished she could see it all through the eyes of this strange man.
"And to answer your question, I come from the Northern Isles, Stagadon specifically and I'm a writer."
Jemma perked up at the word. She knew there was something interesting about this man --besides his pleasing appearance.
"A writer? What do you write about?" Jemma tried her best to keep the eagerness out of her voice but from the smile that pulled at his lips, she obviously failed.
"Everything I see that inspires me. I travel through the continent, meet people, hear their stories, their tales, and it feeds my own stories."
"Oh…" Something twisted in Jemma's chest. The way he said this, with such passion and joy only made her feel like there was someone out there living her dream. A part of her had millions of questions about his journeys. Another felt like it might just break her heart to hear his answers. It was wonderful when the books told the stories of fictional heroes. It was something else entirely to find her herself face to face with one of them.
Fitz must have noticed her reaction because his smile faded as his face took on a worried expression.
"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"
"Ah no…I just…" Jemma trailed off as she pulled her hood lower over her head, more as a reflex than anything else.
"Are you cold?"
"Ah no, I—"
"Here, you should take the blanket, my shirt's almost dry already and I wouldn't want my host to be cold because—"
Jemma started standing up, her hands in front of her to stop him from taking the blanket off and coming too close to her but her hood slipped down her hair in the process and she knew the exact moment Fitz saw them as his already wide eyes widened even more.
In a vain attempt to cover her pointy ears, she pulled her hood back up and sat back in her chair, far enough from the fire that her face was hidden in the shadows.
"You're…You're an elf," Fitz stammered as he moved closer, kneeling by the fire and looking at her like he could pierce through the darkness if he tried hard enough.
Jemma let out a humorless chuckle. Her life would be so much easier if she was an elf. Then she would belong somewhere.
"Half-elf," she simply replied and his eyes widened again, this time more in understanding than in shock. "You understand now why I live here. No one wants to see a monster when they go about their everyday life. And I couldn't face the looks anymore. It's just a happy coincidence that I happen to see storms coming from thousands of miles away."
"No Jemma, you're not a--"
"That's alright, you don't have to say anything. I've always known what I am."
"No really," Fitz said, taking her hand but surprising her even more with the soft tone of his voice, bereft of any disgust or hate. The Northern Isles had never been in war with any of the elven kingdoms but they had no love for the elves and certainly didn't see people like her with a good eye. She let out a small gasp at the contact of his hands. They were warm and strong and sending little shivers up her arm she didn't understand. And when he moved to slowly pull her hood down and lightly brush her cheek, she couldn't help but lean into the touch. He smiled softly and cradled her cheek more fully. It was so tender and wonderful Jemma wanted to cry. No one had touched her so gently since her mother had died years ago.
"Do you know what I see?" She shook her head, incapable of a single word. "I see the fierce, generous, beautiful young woman who welcomed a stranger into her home when no one else would."
Jemma gave him a tremulous smile and he reached for a strand of hair falling in front of her face, and put it back behind her ear.
"You don't have to hide. Not from me."
Jemma kept her gaze locked on his face, his soft smile, his beautiful eyes that didn't betray any trace of a lie. If anything, she could have sworn it was admiration she read in his eyes and it floored her. That was something she had never seen directed at her. Even from her mother. As much as she had loved her, Jemma's too pale skin, pointy ears and gleaming eyes could only remind her of what her daughter was and how it would be a curse, condemning them both to a life of solitude.
After a moment though, Fitz must have realized he'd been very forward and pulled his hand away from Jemma's cheek.
"Sorry," he said, his cheeks tinting slightly as he moved back clumsily and sat back in his chair. He kept looking at her though and for the first time in her life, she found herself blushing and looking away for a completely new reason. It was a rather agreeable sensation. Did Fitz really find her beautiful?
Smiling, she took her cape off and sat up straighter, not minding one bit that Fitz might see a little bit more of her skin than anyone had ever seen before.
"That's perfectly alright and…thank you."
"Oh no, you don't have to thank me for simply being decent."
Something fluttered in Jemma's chest.
"Oh Fitz… you have no idea how being decent makes you special."
"Jemma… Whatever your story is, I'm sorry this isn't what you're used to."
"Oh well," she said with a forced chuckle and a dismissive hand gesture. "Tea?" she asked, standing up and walking towards her little kitchen before Fitz could answer.
A few minutes later, Jemma was back with tea and a platter of biscuits and her emotions mostly in check. Fitz was doing something to her heart she could barely understand but however wonderfully new it was, she shouldn't forget that he would be gone come morning. She should just consider him like one of her books. A beautiful glimpse of another life but that dissipated the moment she turned the last page.
"So what is it?" Fitz asked after they'd silently sipped their tea for a few minutes. "Your story I mean?"
"So that you can put it in one of your books?"
"Only if you wanted to. But mostly because I'm awfully curious and you're fascinating." Jemma rolled her eyes at herself as her heart fluttered once more. So much for keeping her emotions in check. "Also, this storm doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon and it would keep us occupied."
Jemma raised an amused eyebrow as she nodded towards all the books on her shelves. He didn't need to know that she'd already read all of these and knew them by heart. He chuckled as his smile turned mischievous.
"Or I can tell you one of mine and you'll tell me if it's as good as the ones you have there."
Fitz's stories were so much better than anything Jemma had ever read. She couldn't get enough of hearing the tales of his journey through the Ikamiuk islands, so cold that the earth was covered in ice all year. And the creatures who lived there, they seemed just as beautiful as they were dangerous if Jemma believed what she saw in his journal. And he had even been as far as Teldrassil, seeing with his own eyes the elven cities in the trees she had spent her whole life dreaming about despite cursing their kind for impacting the course of her life the way it had. But most of all, Jemma had to admit that Fitz's stories were wonderful because he was the one telling them. His passion as he recalled the most wonderful things he had seen and the mischievousness in his voice as his stories took on a more fictional tone. And to be honest, she would have listened to him talk about anything in his soft, almost musical, Northern brogue. Despite the wind howling, Jemma felt like Fitz was the more likely to sweep her off her feet, leaving her disoriented and overwhelmed.
When both of them had been yawning more and more for several minutes, Jemma had reluctantly said that they should probably go to sleep. Having changed into her most modest nightgown --she wasn't used to having guests and never needed the extra warmth of thicker nightwear-- she gave Fitz plenty of cushions and blankets for him to settle on the floor by the hearth.
Jemma huffed when Kahz jumped off the bed to go and snuggle against Fitz's belly but she had to admit Fitz probably needed his warmth more than she did. She just wasn't sure anymore who she was most jealous of. Fitz or the cat.
But if Kahz was purring and sleeping soundly after only a few minutes, the same couldn't be said of Fitz. He was huffing and squirming and she could hear his teeth chatter. Poor thing. Her elf side made it so she was never really cold so she had never stopped to notice how cold it could get in here. Sighing, she sat up in bed as she contemplated her options.
It wouldn't be proper to open her bed for him. But then again, it wasn't proper to have let him into her home to begin with and there was no one here to judge her except herself. And it wouldn't do to let her guest freeze to death on the floor.
"Fitz, come here," she said and smiled as he fought to sit up without disturbing Kahz.
"What?"
She pulled up a corner of the covers and sheets in invitation.
"Come to bed. It's too cold on the floor. You'll never be able to sleep."
"Oh no-no you don't have to…I'll manage to fall asleep eventually and…"
"Fitz, I can hear your teeth chatter. Come on, the bed is more than big enough for the two of us."
Fitz tried to insist on staying on the floor for just a little longer but, although she didn't doubt he was a perfect gentleman, the promise of a warm comfortable bed was stronger than his will to be perfectly proper.
Just like Jemma had said, her bed was more than big enough for two people without ever touching but she felt his presence very strongly. Despite the overpowering smell of firewood clinging to his clothes, there was another scent that seemed to emanate solely from him. A strange mix of spices and flowers she didn't know and that intrigued her greatly.
Fitz sighed contentedly as he sank into the pillow. "How is the bed all so warm when you've been in it for so little time?"
"The benefit of being half-elf I suppose."
"Really?" he asked, perking up despite sounding ready to fall asleep a second earlier.
"Yes. There has to be at least a few."
"Are there others?"
"Mmmh… Mostly, my senses are better developed than a human’s, I have better reflexes and I’m much stronger than I look.” This was an understatement to avoid scaring him but maybe that was unnecessary given the fascinated look he gave her. “And...uh...people tend to heal more rapidly when I'm the one tending to their injuries or illnesses."
"Amazing. That's just… and how do you explain it?"
"I don't," Jemma let out in a sigh, hesitating before speaking again. "It's very frustrating but there was never anyone I could ask about it. I never met my father… or anyone else from my… anyone who could teach me about this side of me."
"I'm sorry Jemma. I couldn't wait to get away from home and my dad, but at least I know where I come from."
Fitz extended his hand and tentatively reached for hers. It should have been strange but it felt natural and so very soothing. She turned her palm and intertwined her fingers with his.
"My parents met during the war between Armorian and Elvaren,” Jemma started. In the dark, with the reassuring touch of his hand, it wasn’t so hard to say all those things. “They fell in love and tried to escape for a bit but reality caught up to them and my father died not long after that. He never knew my mother was pregnant. I wish I knew more about him, about them, but my mother never wanted to talk to me about it, like if she didn't talk about it, she could somehow erase the fact that I was half-elf. I was the result of their love, something that should have been beautiful and loved. Instead I was this thing that people looked at with disapproval at best."
Fitz didn't say anything, just squeezed her hand tighter. After that, the words started flowing. Maybe it really was just because of the dark or the touch of his hand, callous but gentle and fitting in hers so perfectly. Or maybe it was because for the first time, she was feeling the connection she had been craving all her life. And if he left in the morning, at least she would have enjoyed it to its fullest before she had to let it go.
Jemma couldn't say when she fell asleep or even which one of them was the last to speak, but when she opened her eyes again it was mid-morning already. It took a moment longer to realize the warmth she felt against her belly wasn't Kahz but in fact Fitz.
She gasped slightly. She was completely molded against his back, one arm flung over his waist and close enough to feel his heart beating slowly. No wonder she had slept so well and so long. This was the most wonderful feeling in the world. It was like their bodies had reached out to each other during the night the same way their minds had the previous night. Although… Fitz hadn't moved from his side, he was even quite close to the edge. She was the one who had rolled over to his side. Her instinct and her heart were telling her to stay just like that and enjoy it while it lasted, but her brain was telling her to move away from him before he woke up as not to embarrass him or herself. She sighed and, as gently as possible, slid her arm off as she started rolling away but within seconds, Fitz groaned and grabbed her arm to pull her even closer than before, his hand adorably clinging to hers.
"Too early…come back," he mumbled before his breathing evened out and he seemed to be sound asleep again.
Jemma's heart did a little flip in her chest as her lips pulled into a happy smile. It would really be a shame to wake him up when he looked so peaceful, and it would certainly happen if she tried to take her hand off his. There was an especially strong gust of wind outside and it finally registered to Jemma that the storm was still very much raging outside. She was so used to it that she barely even noticed it anymore. But now…now, it meant that Fitz wouldn't be able to leave this morning, maybe not even today. Jemma's smile widened. Finally, it felt like the universe had decided to be kind to her and lend her a little happiness even if it was just for one more day. Sighing happily, she tucked her face against his neck and closed her eyes. Breakfast could wait.
The storm raged on all day and the day after that. Rain and bad weather were rather common in these parts of Armoria, and storms that lasted sometimes over a week were not unheard of, but it seemed like this one would just never stop. And it was certainly the biggest one Jemma could remember. With the impossibility to go out, they fell into a surprisingly easy routine. Fitz insisted on cooking most meals and he was excellent at it. They spent a lot of time sharing stories, real ones from their childhood or Fitz's many travels or imaginary ones they had either read or written. Fitz was fascinated to discover the various medications Jemma made from local plants and she even let him look at the book where she took notes of every one she tested or used. Because even though she took great pride in thoroughly testing every single one of her medications before using them on anyone else, the truth was that she instinctively knew which ones would work. And she wasn't usually fond of sharing something she could not explain.
But not with Fitz. Fitz already knew more about her than anyone she had ever met but more importantly, he accepted her. The way he looked at her when she spoke, with boyish fascination and infinite tenderness constantly gave her elven pale skin a pinkish tint that seemed to warm her up from the inside as well.
At night, they stayed by the fireplace, talking some more or simply enjoying each other's company, their hands brushing against each other as they petted Kahz's fur until he fell asleep and their fingers remained entwined instead. After waking up so close to each other and realizing how content the contact made them both, they had been drawing closer with each passing hour. It felt like his shoulder was just the right shape for her head to rest and the fire burned hotter when they were sitting side by side.
On the third night, when it was time to go to bed, Fitz didn't shyly turn on his side, away from her, like he had done the other nights and instead remained on his back with a soft questioning smile on his lips. Jemma only hesitated for a second before climbing into bed, snuggling against his side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head that made her skin erupt into goosebumps.
"You know…I'm really glad you opened the door the other night," he whispered and Jemma smiled.
"Because you would have frozen to death if I haven't?" she teased.
"Yes… but mostly because I wouldn't have met you, Jemma."
Her emotions were overwhelming and she found herself incapable of saying a single word. No one had ever said something like that to her. So instead, she wrapped her arm more tightly around his chest, hoping he would understand how important his words were. He pressed one more kiss on her hair and they fell asleep with his hand gently caressing her arm.
"Could it be love?" Jemma wondered as she looked at Fitz's peaceful face, his lips pulled up in a slight smile as he slept. She had woken up an hour ago, well rested but too comfortable to get out of bed. So she had picked up the book she had only just started a few nights ago and started reading. But her gaze kept being attracted by Fitz. His hands, the freckles she could see where his shirt had slipped down his shoulder, and his beautiful face she thought should be drawn on the page of a dictionary if someone looked for the word softness. So she had stopped fighting it and had just spent the past twenty minutes looking at him and wondering… The way her heart beat faster when he was close, the way he made her blush or the fact that she had been happier these past days than she had ever been in her entire life, could it really mean love? Her books seemed to agree with that conclusion but could she really trust them when it came to a real person?
Fitz's breathing suddenly changed and Jemma could sense he was about to wake up. He stirred for a few more minutes, making adorable little noises before finally cracking an eye open.
"Hello," he said, voice still rough from sleep.
"Good morning."
"Is it late?"
"No," she said with a soft smile. "I just wasn't sleepy anymore."
He sat up, stretching his arms over his head before looking towards the window. Jemma was pretty sure she saw a small smile on his lips when he noticed the strong wind and heavy rain still falling outside.
"Reading a new book?" he asked, nodding towards her lap.
"Ah yes… I had just started this one when you knocked on the door."
"Oh…" He chuckled nervously. "Then you must be impatient for the storm to be over so you can go back to it, right?"
"I’m really not."
Fitz's eyebrows raised as he turned towards her more fully.
"You’re not?"
"In fact, I wish the storm would never end so you can never leave. Is that a horrible thing to say?" she asked, only daring to look at him when she was done talking.
Fitz only nodded as he beamed at her. Biting his lip, he moved forward to cup her cheek.
"I think it's a wonderful thing to say."
"I'm sorry I didn't answer you last night but you should know how happy I am that I let you in the other night because I've never met anyone like you who makes me feel so-so…"
Jemma's words were cut off by the press of Fitz's lips on hers. His touch was gentle and light at first, his lips barely touching hers, but it still sent shivers down her spine. And then, he started moving them as his hand slid to her neck, his fingers digging into her hair, and Jemma let out a low moan she didn't even know herself capable of. Her books hadn't been wrong about that sensation. In fact, she thought they had underestimated it. She shifted closer so she could wrap her hands around his shoulders. His skin was so warm through his shirt and his chest pressed tightly to hers made her whole body feel hot and tingly. His tongue licked at the seam of her lips and she parted them without even thinking about it. The first swipe of his tongue against hers made her gasp as another kind of wonderful heat settled low in her belly. But that was just when Fitz pulled back, leaving her breathless and confused.
"Fitz?"
"I'm sorry, I got carried away. It's just that you're so wonderful and beautiful and I know it's crazy…and we just met but-but… I love you, Jemma."
Jemma couldn't hold back the sob that escaped her lips and finding herself bereft of words, she captured his lips again in a passionate kiss, her momentum making him lose balance and fall backwards. His hands slid down to her waist as she hovered over him, his firm embrace making her feel like she finally had a place in the world and it was in his arms. And suddenly, she knew exactly what to say. Breaking the kiss, she pulled backwards to look into his eyes.
"I love you too, Fitz."
And with that, she kissed him again, letting her body take the lead until she didn’t know where she ended and he started.
"Good morning."
Jemma shivered as the words were spoken against the skin of her shoulder while a warm hand slid over the naked skin of her waist. The previous day had been a haze of pleasure barely interrupted by meals and naps. Every time, she thought she'd had enough of the sweet ecstasy Fitz was giving her, they would share a look or his hand would brush her skin and the fire within her was reignited. She had known the theory of sex and its mechanisms for a long time but even her most scandalous books couldn’t have made her imagine how it felt or how her heightened senses would make her feel like she was floating into the stars. But even all of this was nothing compared to the bond she shared with Fitz. Every kiss, every touch, every look they shared made her fall in love with him a little more.
But then she had opened her eyes this morning and felt her heart breaking at the sight of a perfect blue sky.
She turned around and faced Fitz before he was fully awake and he could see the sky for himself.
"The storm's over."
"Oh…"
His sleepy smile faltered and was replaced by a deep frown. Taking a deep breath, Jemma schooled her features and sat up in bed, pulling the sheets with her, not for modesty but because she might not be able to go through this with his gaze roving her body the way he had done the previous day.
"So when are you planning to leave?"
"Oh I-I… I thought maybe—"
"Of course, you don't have to leave now. I would like nothing more than for you to stay here longer but I know you'll have to leave eventually and delaying it would only make it that much harder on both of us."
"Then come with me!"
"What?"
"Come with me, Jemma! You deserve more than being imprisoned here all your life, looking out for storms and being a healer to people who refuse to see how wonderful you are."
Jemma's head was spinning. In the past days, she had selfishly wished the storm would carry on for weeks or months even so that she would get to keep Fitz. She had never imagined she could follow him. This was the only place she had ever known. Could she really leave it like that?
"But the lighthouse… Who will take care of it?"
Fitz took her hand in his.
"Who cares! You’ve been doing this for them long enough. You deserve to live your own life, have your own adventure. Come with me. We'll travel throughout the continent and, if you wanted, I could take you to see the elves."
"But they might hate me just as much as the humans do."
"They'd be foolish to," Fitz said, bringing her hand to his lips with a smile brighter than the sun. "But we don't have to. We'll go wherever you want to go and when we're done…you can always come back here if that’s what you want or you could follow me home."
"Home?"
"In Stagadon. My father didn't love me very much but he still left me a comfortable house. You wouldn't want for anything, you'd have all the books you want and you could be a healer or, I don't know, write your own stories or—"
Jemma cut him off with a resounding kiss.
"Yes!"
"Yes? To..."
"To you. I'm not sure about anything else but I know I want to be with you."
Fitz pulled her into her arms. "That's all that matters to me. We have time. We can talk about it, make plans and then we'll decide. Together."
Jemma pulled back to look into his eyes.
"Together."
In Armoria, people said that the storms brought evil spirits and you should keep your door closed. But Jemma had opened her door and her heart and found that, as always, people couldn’t have been more wrong about what storms could bring.