Chapter Text
Fitz’s heart thuds in his chest as he bends over, panting as he tries to catch his breath.
He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to forget, but when he opens them he can still see out of the corner of his eye the dragon’s smoking bloody carcass.
Fitz groans; nausea hitting him with the force of a thousand battle rams and he shuts his eyes again, cradling his head in his hands.
Suddenly there’s a pressure on his shoulder, and he gingerly blinks and turns to see a gloved hand-
The Blue Knight. The one who had rescued him with nothing but a sword and intelligence, from Fitz’s sure fiery death at the maw of the evil dragon named Ward.
He almost collapses in gratitude and fright from his close encounter with death, but the knight holds him steady, hugging him gently to his iron breastplate.
“T-thank you, Sir,” Fitz stammers and gazing at the Blue Knight’s helmet. “Thank you for slaying the beast and saving me.”
The Blue Knight just nods, the creaking of armor crisp in the morning air.
He takes a couple of deep breaths before he continues-
The Blue Knight has prevailed across the country for a couple of years now, performing great feats and saving the people but never once revealing his name nor face, and that is why Fitz pauses now.
“Blue Knight, I would love to thank the man who had rescued me by his given name, if you shall be so kind to reveal your identity. I am also sure that my father, the King, will reward you generously for your deeds for this kingdom.”
The knight hesitates, and Fitz waits with bated breath as the armored glove eventually releases its grip, and the Blue Knight steps away from him.
With deft hands the knight reaches up and pulls of his helmet, and even though Fitz has seen trolls and ogres, witches and dragons, nothing compares to seeing the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; standing right in front of him.
Beautiful yet strong, Fitz reminds himself as the woman defiantly meets his eye and her armor shines in the morning sun. Beautiful and strong and smart and brave and selfless.
Suddenly, Fitz wonders if the ballads of true love at first sight are true, because the nausea returns but it’s different and he’s not sure if he dislikes it at all.
She extends a gloved hand.
“Jemma Simmons. Blue Knight.”
He curls his lips into a grin, and when she mirrors the smile he eagerly clasps his hand in hers.
“Leopold Fitz. Prince.”