Chapter Text
It was the 1600s and the world was filled with princes and princesses, castles and magnificent paintings on the ceilings of chapels. It was a time of beauty, literature and science. And yet with all the beauty magic of the time, Jemma Simmons could not find any happiness in today. How could she be happy on a day when she was marrying a man she did not love? It was simply a marriage of convenience, nothing more, and nothing less.
She had met Prince Leopold Fitz only once before, and it had been disastrous. He was not what she had expected. She had heard many women talk about how dashing he was. Personally, she didn’t see it. Not to mention the prince had hardly spoken to her as they sat beside each other at the feast that was being thrown in honor of their engagement. She had tried to make conversation but all he had done was fiddle away with a metal contraption in his hands. He held it under the table as if he was afraid of being caught.
And when he finally talked to her, they argued about the best way to improve production of crops. But they hadn’t had the chance to disagree long, because they were soon called to the dance floor. During the dance, the prince had stepped twice on Jemma’s feet. She in return, in the most ungraceful manner, had tripped over his leather boots causing her to almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, the prince was enough of a gentleman to keep her on her feet.
But now the day of the wedding had come, despite Jemma continuing to pray that it was called off. As she starred at her reflection she couldn’t help but admire the beaded bodice of her mother’s dress. Jemma had always wanted to wear her mother’s dress on her wedding day. The white flowers that circled her head had been her addition to the look. It was how she had always hoped to look on her wedding day.
However, Jemma had always imagined her marriage to be so much different. Jemma wanted a man that would love her, for her. He would also have to not judge her for her love of the new discoveries in the field of science. Other men she had met had though her mad. They would tell her she should talk less and smile more.
Jemma would give anything not to be getting married today. She had thought many times about running away. But her family needed this marriage in order for them and their people to survive. Her father, the duke of a large, very poor country would benefit greatly from this marriage. Not to mention the lands would be joined so the King would have control over even more land. One day it would be Jemma’s and the prince’s.
Yet Jemma couldn’t stop thinking about how desperately she longed to be a bird. A bird with its wings could fly away. It was free to go where it wanted. To do whatever it’s heart desired. If she had been lucky enough to be born a bird, Jemma could spread her wings and fly far away from all of this.
At that moment her mother walked in and beamed broadly at her daughter. “You look so beautiful my dear.”
Jemma turned to face her mother ignoring the compliment. “I have to ask you something.”
“Of course darling, what is it?”
“Do you love father?”
It was clear Duchess Simmons was taken aback by her daughter’s blunt question. She brushed back one of Jemma’s stray hairs from her face. But then she finally spoke, “Of course I love your father.”
Jemma was very unconvinced by this answer. “Did you love him when you were married?”
Duchess Simmons sighed. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t. It was arranged and I didn’t meet him until that day. But I learned to love him.”
With a sigh Jemma turned to look back at her reflection in the mirror. Would she be able to learn to love Prince Leopold? Would he learn to love her? Was he wondering the same things she was right now?
Her mother walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around Jemma’s waist. “I know this is scary darling. But I promise everything will work out.”
“How could you possible know that?”
“I’m a mother! I just know about these kinds of things!” Both mother and daughter laughed at these words.
But Jemma’s laughter felt more false than I did real. But was something she would have to get used to. Faking laughter and smiles was about to become her full time job.
Fitz ate slowly as his new bride sat beside him at the head of the tables that lined the large. It was filled with people drinking, dancing and celebrating. The wedding ceremony had been so long that Fitz’s legs had almost given way several times. But Fitz was glad to be seated now, and putting food into his empty stomach. He had hardly eaten a thing all day.
He watched as his younger sister Daisy danced around the room with her suitor Trip. She was giggling and smiling as he twirled her around. Fitz sighed. He wished he could be as happy as she was right now. His sister had the choice of whom she would marry. She was the youngest and did not have the same responsibilities that he had.
Out of the corner of his blue eyes, Fitz spied Jemma taking a sip of her wine. It was true she was beautiful, but Jemma was also stubborn, hard-headed and very free spirited. None of these things were desirable in a wife. But then again this was a marriage of convenience, not one of love. It really didn’t matter what he, Fitz wanted. His father just wanted to make sure that the royal line would continue. And Jemma’s father wanted to make sure there would be enough money to help their people.
Fitz gulped and took another quick glance at his bride. The flowers in her hair were a nice contrast against her dark wavy hair. And yet she looked very uncomfortable in the gown. Just as uncomfortable as he felt in his tight coat and fluffy collar. He was eager to get out of it and into one of his loose shirt that he usually wore.
Then a voice from the crowd rang out calling for the bride and groom to have their first dance. His head perked up and his heart sank. Fitz turned his head slightly to look at Jemma. He raised his eyebrows in question. Then to Fitz’s surprise she smiled and gave him a gentle nod.
He let out a small sigh of relief then stood holding out his hand to her. She took it and then he led her out from behind the table and onto the open stone floor. Hopefully, this dance would be better than their first. Fitz made a mental note to take more certain slow steps. He didn’t want to step on her toes again. Daisy had been helping with the dancing ever since the engagement party.
The band began to play and Fitz began to lead his bride around the room. He could hardly breath. Being stared at by loads of people, or dancing for that matter had never been his favorite thing to do. But he was so busy making sure his steps were correct he hardly noticed everyone eye’s on them.
Eventually, Fitz felt brave enough to look away from his feet and up at Jemma’s freckled face. She seemed to be deep in thought as she stared at his chest. Oh how he wished he knew what she was thinking. And yet he had a feeling he knew what thoughts were racing through her mind.
“Look,” he said in a low voice so that only Jemma could hear. “I know you didn’t want this, and you know I didn’t want this either. But we’re stuck now, so we might as make the best of it. I understand we don’t see eye to eye on certain matters, but let’s at least try to fake it and be civil until we can at least be friends. So for now let’s smile and try to be… Well try to at least act like we like each other.”
A faint smile played on Jemma’s lips. “I agree. After all we will be seeing a great deal of each other from now on. We might as well make the best of it.” She laughed awkwardly.
“Well at least that’s something we agree on,” Fitz grinned.
He looked up at the crowd and caught a glimpse of Daisy. She smiled and gave him a reassuring nod. She knew how Fitz felt about this marriage, but she had been doing her best to be encouraging ever since the date for the wedding was set. Daisy was always so positive.
But then a loud voice rang out from the crowd. This time it requested something that made Fitz and Jemma freeze. “Kiss!” The voice had shouted causing many others to begin a chant.
Fitz looked down at Jemma’s horrified expression. He swallowed hard and sighed. Then he leaned down to press a kiss to Jemma’s cheek. Her skin was much softer than he expected and leaned back feeling a bit stunned.
Jemma smiled up at him and then mouthed a thank you. But her smile was to be short lived.
A tall man with grey hair walked out from the crowd. His booming laugh thundered throughout the room. Fitz turned to look at his father who had his arms folded and amused expression on his face. “Come now Leopold, you can do better than that!”
Fitz bared his teeth as he stared at his father. He had never been close to the man. It had always seemed like his father used him like a puppet for amusement. But Fitz had to be civil to him. He was his father after all.
He turned to Jemma once more and raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” he whispered so that only she could hear.
“It’s alright,” Jemma said clearly forcing a smile. “Just do it.”
Fitz licked his lips and then bent his head once more to press his lips to Jemma’s. They stood there for what felt like hours, but in reality is was only a few seconds. Fitz tried to kiss Jemma convincingly enough to pacify his father. But when he leaned back, Fitz found himself feeling a bit lightheaded. He stared down at Jemma who looked ever so slightly confused.
“That’s more like it,” the king said clapping his hands together loudly. “Now it’s time for these two love birds to go to bed.”