Chapter Text
Sometimes, Jill Warrick struggled to find her place in Rosaria. From the time she was brought here, she had always felt like an outcast. A tool to ensure the peace. A political weapon.
Of course there were people who made Jill feel welcome, like she belonged there. Archduke Elwin Rosfield, the man who had initially taken her hostage from her home of the Northern Territories, treated her with the utmost kindness and respect, as if she were his own flesh and blood. While they weren’t close, he still treated her like a human being. And, he asked the many servants and housemaids of Rosalith Castle to treat her in a similar fashion.
His sons, as well - Clive, the elder, and Joshua, the younger. She took to them quite quickly, becoming like family before her first year in the castle had even completed. Their patience and understanding were far more than Jill could ever ask for. They became her best friends in the entire world - people she never felt judged by, and people could always turn to and could always trust, no matter what.
But then, there was Duchess Anabella.
She was a line Jill never dared to cross.
As much as Jill would go about her using Clive’s method of avoiding her at all cost, but being more polite than she deserved if they ever were in her presence, she couldn’t. Being a young woman in Rosalith Castle meant spending lots and lots of time with the Duchess.
And the Duchess never hid how she felt about the princess.
Despite not showing any interest in doing so, Anabella was in charge of overseeing Jill’s education and training. She was the one Jill’s tutors gave reports to, and she was the one who scheduled when Jill would have homemaking lessons and determine when she had passed.
And no matter how hard Jill tried, she was never quite good enough for Anabella. There was always something wrong with that “Northern wench”, as she was often called during conversations when Anabella didn’t know Jill could hear her. Calling her worthless - she had no place living in the luxury of Rosalith Castle.
Jill didn’t get it as bad as Clive did. But she knew what it was like.
No matter how many people made her feel welcome, there was always the one who made her feel completely and utterly worthless.
Not a human being, but a tool.
–
One day, at the bright age of eleven summers old, Jill was preparing herself in her bedroom to attend the annual Rosarian Procession - a celebration of Rosaria where Archduke Elwin paraded the Rosarian territory, visiting towns and villages to discuss the prosperity of the Duchy. It was quite a big deal.
This was the first time in her five summers of living in Rosalith in which she was allowed to attend. Not only that, it was also Clive and Joshua’s first time. Jill figured she would not be asked to go, considering she wasn’t Rosarian, but when Archduke Elwin requested her presence, she was beyond overjoyed.
Jill was incredibly excited to be a part of it. Rarely did she leave the capital city, so she would be able to see parts of Rosaria that she perhaps hadn’t been to before. They would get to see Lady Hanna in Eastpool, the beautiful Fallen Ruins at Hawk’s Cry Cliff, and they would make a lunch break at Port Isolde at Lord Byron’s residence.
And, she would get to do it with her two best friends.
As Jill sat in front of her mirror, braiding a strand of her shoulder-length silver hair, her chambermaid, Lady Bernice, was remaking Jill’s bed. Jill had fixed it up herself that morning before she broke her fast, but Lady Bernice always insisted on redoing it. She was a kind lady, and Jill was ever grateful to have been given such a nice chambermaid.
“I overheard Lady Anabella speaking about you yesterday,” Bernice told Jill as she fixed up one of the pillows, as the covering was not fully on.
“To the noblewomen?” Jill questioned. Yesterday, the duchess had some of the women from the Seven High Houses over for tea in the Down Gardens. Jill had almost walked in on them before Clive pulled her away so they would go in through the front instead, as to not disturb them. Clive knew all too well that if they accidentally disrupted the event by merely walking in the gardens, that they would get a lecture later.
Bernice hummed in affirmation.
Jill snickered, despite it not being very ladylike. Anabella would have many not-kind words to say about it, had she been present. “What were they talking about me for?” she questioned. If she had been speaking with Clive, she would have made a comment about Anabella speaking about her as if she was a “savage Northerner who didn’t deserve to be granted the privilege to live in Rosaria”...or something like that.
“About marriage.”
Jill’s stomach dropped.
She was only eleven summers, nearly twelve. She had quite a few years ahead of her before marriage was even going to be a possibility, when she came of age at sixteen.
She knew for the boys, Archduke Elwin was allowing them to wait until they were “ready” to be wed, as Elwin and Anabella had not received that choice. They were also allowed to have a say in who they married. Joshua would specifically be given suitresses, but if he decided he didn’t want to be with them, he wasn’t forced into it.
Clive’s situation stood differently - because he wasn’t the heir to the throne, Anabella didn’t focus on pairing him up with anyone. Not that she really wanted to put effort into anything he did, though. He was given a lot more freedom with it all, however, so she figured he was thankful for that.
Neither one of the Rosfield brothers had mentioned marriage before, save for the comment or two they made after Anabella had slyly attempted to pair Joshua up with a daughter of one of the nobles, despite him being even younger than Jill was.
The boys didn’t really talk to Jill about marriage, though. While the three spoke to each other about most anything else, that was a topic they didn’t discuss. They were young, after all.
Jill had thought about marriage before. What young girl didn’t? The idea of marrying a man she loved, having a big celebration with lots of flowers and cakes and dancing…being with someone she loved for the rest of her life, having a home and children…
However, Jill knew the marriage process would be different for her, compared to other girls. Most girls choose who they wanted to wed, and they would get married soon after coming of age, some choosing to wait until later, when they were a bit older. Some women didn’t get married at all, if they were able to make a living doing so.
Jill, most likely, would be given suitors. Men from other parts of Rosaria, perhaps even other nations, in order to form alliances through marriage. Jill would have a choice, though, in who she got to marry, she thought, considering the boys had that same privilege.
Was she wrong?
“What about it?” Jill asked, suddenly becoming a little lightheaded at the thought of all her ideas and dreams being just that, and not her future.
“Oh, they were discussing who you might be wed to,” Bernice responded, confirming Jill’s fears. Jill felt her heart in her throat.
Jill blinked, suddenly feeling a bit ill. “To who?”
“Alls I heard is they were discussing whether or not to marry you to the heir to the ducal throne, or a son of one of the High Houses,” Bernice responded. “Anabella was concerned which one would be more ‘profitable’. Not quite sure what she meant by that. I was beginning to look suspicious as I was eavesdropping, so I couldn’t stay for the whole conversation. I wanted to let you know, to not frighten you if Her Grace brings it up to you.”
Jill didn’t know what to say. Of course she had known the marriage process would be different for her. But discussing who she was going to wed…without even asking her?
What would Jill want? If Jill really had a choice, as she had thought, who would she want to marry?
Immediately, the thought of striking blue eyes and dark hair appeared in her brain, but she quickly shoved it away.
“I have a fair idea who you’d make a ‘andsome pair with, but I s’pose it’s up to the duchy to decide,” Bernice said, straightening out Jill’s comforter. “We’ll see in a few years how it ends up, huh?”
Jill dropped her braid.
“Yes, I suppose…”
–
It was supposed to be a pleasant outing. At least, that was Clive’s intention.
He had noticed Jill’s despondence before they had even left the castle that morning. Normally, she was quite chipper, eager to greet the day and its activities, especially with the Rosfield brothers in her presence. But she barely gave him a smile as she stood beside him, Joshua in front of them, due to his rank as heir.
Clive had given her a look that read “are you alright”, but Jill seemed to ignore it. And Clive wouldn’t dare vocally ask her - not with Duchess Anabella around. Clive swore the woman had eyes in the back of her head - eyes to track his every move, waiting for him to do something so she could tut him.
Clive had been looking forward to this - his first time being a part of the annual Rosarian procession, with his two best friends. While their father performed all the formal aspects of the procession, Clive, Joshua, and Jill could hang out and laugh as they traveled all of Rosarian territory.
But Jill did not seem to share Clive’s excitement anymore. She had been talking about it with him and his brother all day long yesterday. What had changed?
Clive sighed, looking around at the village of Eastpool. He saw Lady Hanna standing in the crowd, smiling and beaming not only at her husband, but at the children of the Ruling Family. Clive nodded to her, and then glanced to his side to see if Jill was respondent. She wasn’t. That was surprising - Jill had always loved Lady Hanna.
As they stood on the bridge leading Eastpool into the farmland surrounding the city, Clive found himself getting rather antsy, hearing his father drone on and on about how wonderful Rosaria was, and how thankful the duchy was for the hardworking people who lived there, whatever the rest he was saying. Clive of course was proud to be Rosarian, and he appreciated that his father made sure to visit these people in a grand procession yearly, but the formalities were really quite boring, in Clive’s opinion.
It was certainly one of the reasons why Clive was glad to not be heir to the throne. He wasn’t a fan of this.
He looked over at Jill again. Something was definitely on her mind - and it wasn’t anything to do with the procession.
Clive sighed, looking out past the river to the lands surrounding them. He thought a bit to himself. Hawk’s Cry Cliff wasn’t too far away. Amber and Auldhyl were among their stops before they traveled back to Rosalith. If they went that way, they could easily rejoin the group, and no one would notice that they had even left.
So, as everyone else was listening to Elwin, Clive gently elbowed Jill in the side. She frowned and looked up at him. “Hey,” he whispered, “wanna take a walk?”
“We’re supposed to be part of the procession, are we not?” she whispered back, using her “princess tone”. It wasn’t anything like her normal voice, and Clive didn’t like it because it wasn’t genuine.
“They won’t miss us, will they?” Clive replied. “They’d notice if Joshua were missing, but not us. C’mon.”
Jill wrapped her arms around herself. “To where?”
“Hawk’s Cry Cliff,” Clive suggested, pointing out to the trees in the distance. “We’ll meet them up in Auldhyl before they make their way to Port Isolde. They’ll never even know we were gone.”
Jill’s eyes glanced up towards Anabella, who was smiling and nodding at her husband’s words. Again, Clive could tell it wasn’t genuine. But no one else would dare tell Anabella that. Jill slumped her shoulders. “If we get in trouble, I’m blaming you.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything different,” Clive replied.
They waited until the procession began moving into the city before Clive and Jill managed to separate themselves from the group, beginning their journey south to the cliffs.
“What’s in Hawk’s Cry Cliff?” Jill questioned, only a few moments into their walk. Clive was glad she was speaking to him again, though her eyes were still down, looking at the gravel road instead of at him.
“A surprise,” Clive responded, grabbing a twig from one of the bushes that lay beside the road. He realized it wasn’t long enough to use as a faux-walking stick, so he tossed it effortlessly to the side, into the wheat fields. “Have you ever been to Mann’s Hill?”
Jill shook her head. “I barely leave the capital unless it’s with you and Joshua, My Lord.”
“Have you at least heard of Mann’s Hill?” Clive asked.
Again, Jill shook her head. “What’s at Mann’s Hill?”
“A field of flowers called Snow Daisies,” Clive responded, smiling at her as they trekked a winding path, leading them down from the hill Eastpool sat atop of.
Jill’s eyes brightened as she looked up at him. “Snow Daisies?” she asked.
Clive nodded. “They’re called as such because they reminded travelers of the North,” he responded. “We don’t get much snow here on Rosaria, only a slight dusting every winter, as you know, but when Northern travelers saw these flowers at Mann’s Hill, it reminded them of home.” He looked at Jill. “You got a lot of snow in the North, didn’t you?”
Jill pursed her lips. “We did,” she responded. “For nearly half the year, our grounds were covered in snow and ice. It was always so cold, but when we were allowed outside to play, we didn’t really mind.”
“What did you do to play in the snow?” he asked. He was glad he was getting her to speak - this was the Jill he knew.
“We made these things called Snow Wyverns,” she responded. “You lie on your back in a patch of fluffy snow, and you move your arms up and down like wings, in the snow. Then you stand up and draw a tail and horns, too.”
Clive laughed, imagining a young Jill doing something like that.
“We’d make Snow Moogles, too.”
“How would you do that? Watch your step.” Clive held out his hand for Jill to help her up the next bridge they had to cross.
“Thank you,” Jill replied, taking his hand. “To make a Snow Moogle, you roll snow into a large ball, and then place a smaller one on top. We would place a clementine for the ball on top, and we’d use sticks for the whiskers. I can’t seem to remember what we did for the wings. They might’ve even been wingless Moogles.”
“Is that really a Moogle if it is wingless?”
Jill laughed. “I’m not even sure,” she responded.
Clive grinned. “Unfortunately, My Lady,” he helped her down off the bridge, but held onto her hand, as there was another one just up ahead, “I don’t think we’ll be able to make a Snow Moogle with these flowers.”
“That’s quite alright,” Jill responded. “I’m sure I will enjoy it anyway. How did you come to find these?”
“I visit Hawk’s Cry Cliff a lot when I go hunting on Ambrosia,” Clive answered. “I’ve seen the flowers a fair number of times.” He looked over at her. “And…I thought it might cheer you up.”
Jill’s smile faltered, and Clive felt a pang in his chest at it. Jill’s grip on his hand loosened, but Clive held tight to it as they went across the next bridge. “Sorry.”
“For what?” Clive asked. He sighed. “If something is bothering you, Jill, you can tell me. I might be able to help.”
Jill shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just…just having a bad day.”
Clive nodded. He knew she wasn’t fully telling the truth, but in time, perhaps he would come to know what was bothering her. Whenever he knew something bad was going on with Jill, all he wanted to do was make whatever was wrong go away. He didn’t like seeing her hurt or upset. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
The corners of Jill’s lips turned upwards again. “Clive, isn’t that what taking me to Mann’s Hill is all about?”
“Oh…right.”
Jill laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, hiding her grin. “Clive! You can be so absentminded sometimes.”
“Apologies, My Lady.”
Jill shook her head. “It’s funny,” she responded. She tightened her grip on his hand, despite the fact that there were no bridges in sight. She glanced up at the sky, seeing the clouds looming over ahead. Just south of them, the clouds were a particularly daunting shade of gray. “You don’t think it’s going to rain, do you?”
“I don’t think it will,” he responded, though he wasn’t sure of his answer. He squeezed her hand. “C’mon - tell me more about snow.”
They made their way through the Fallen Ruins of Greensheaves, past the marshes - Jill luckily not the kind of girl who got upset when her boots were soaked, like many of the noble girls Clive had been forced to get to know over the years. Jill was different - a good kind of different.
As they neared the village that rested atop the hill, the pair began to feel raindrops on their heads. Clive and Jill looked up at the sky - indeed, dark storm clouds were heading their way, and fast.
“Oh, shit,” Clive mumbled. Just as the words left his mouth, the sprinkling turned into a full rain shower.
“Clive?” Jill said, her voice worried. “What should we do?”
Clive looked around, looking for any sort of place for them to hide out in. He noticed, around the perimeter of the marshes, were a grove of oak trees. He squeezed Jill’s hand and gestured with his head for her to follow. Jill nodded and followed closely behind him, using her arm to block the sudden downpour from getting in her face.
Indeed, under the oak trees, they found themselves able to remain mostly dry.
“I…I really shouldn’t become a weather predictor, should I?” Clive said, as they nestled themselves against one of the trees.
Jill snorted out a laugh, covering her mouth. “No, I truly think you’d be rather terrible at it,” she replied. “I do think, instead, you’ll do just fine as Lord Commander one day.”
Clive quirked a brow. “You think so?”
“Of course. Who else would be good enough to take over Lord Murdoch?”
Clive shrugged his shoulders shyly. He had never been told that before. “Who knows what’ll become of me once I’m of age.”
Jill brought her knees up to her chin. “I’m sure only good things, My Lord.”
Clive smirked. “My mother, if she had her way, would have me kicked out of the castle.” He wouldn’t ever share that with anyone, except for Jill. It was the kind of secret that he couldn’t even tell Joshua.
Jill looked over at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She turned away, facing the tree beside them.
Clive sighed. “This was supposed to cheer you up, and here I am - being a downer myself. I sincerely apologize, My Lady.”
“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Jill replied earnestly. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“I wanted this to be nice.”
“This is nice, Clive,” Jill responded. “Any time I get to spend with you is nice.” She shrugged. “And it was fun sneaking away for a bit. Even if we’re trapped in the rain that looks like it’s not letting up soon.”
Clive chuckled. He and Jill smiled at each other, and he felt his heart at ease.
He wouldn’t mind if things could stay like this for a long time.