a/n: So, this is a new story I'm cowriting with my bestie, happypugfics on tumblr. I'm really excited to share it with you guys! If you like it, go head on over and follow her too! Also, a thank-you belongs to ironbunneh from Tumblr for creating the fantastic cover art.
Jemma grew up in a fairly stable home. Her father owned a moderately large farm and enough servants to work it. Their income was just enough to make ends meet, keep their estate functioning properly, and maintain her father's title as a baron.
It wasn't just her family's moderate wealth that kept her comfortable, she had a kind kin as well. Her father, Phil Coulson, respected her as much as she respected him, which was not as common as she would like to think. Fitz was the name of her brother, who was less than a year her senior. He was gentle, smart, and kind, very unlike their cousins.
Jemma didn't grow up with a motherly figure–her mother passed away before she could remember. She'd never known her face, her voice, or her touch, so she didn't feel as if she was missing anything. Her father was enough for her. He remarried just a few years ago, but she didn't get along very well with her seemingly cold stepmother. They didn't clash, but they didn't communicate much, either. They mostly let each other be.
Not having anyone around to teach her manners until her stepmother showed up, Jemma spent most of her childhood playing outside with Fitz and Skye, a servant her father acquired when he found her stealing food at the market at a young age. The other girl grew up as one of their servants and Jemma thought of her as her oldest friend and playmate.
When they were young children, they would play hide and seek in the corn fields just before harvest season, when the stalks were so tall they almost blocked the sun. During the hottest, driest time of year, when the sun was blistering hot, the three of them would travel down to the stream and go for long swims. They enjoyed this until they were too old for it to be acceptable for her brother to be seeing them in their undergarments. It took a lot of convincing from Skye, but they continued to go swimming in secret. Until they didn't.
It wasn't that they didn't still enjoy it, they absolutely did, it was that it wouldn't be suitable for anyone to be seeing Jemma in anything less than a full corset and gown, especially once she had been betrothed. Due to a crop failure last season, the baron's manor was struggling to scrape by, even more so than usual, and at the ripe age of 15 Jemma was a prime candidate for marriage. With the family's title, they could easily secure her a wealthy, well-to-do husband who would be able to pay a great sum for their daughter's dowry. The money would help the manor make ends meet and the new relation would strengthen business, enabling them to sell their goods on both sides of the Black Forest.
It was on the opposite side of this large, wild expanse of dangerous wilderness, that Jemma's future husband lived. Word had been received not but a few days past, heralding his arrival within the week to come and meet his new young bride. The man was of stern face and even sterner disposition and had an unhealthy reputation across the land, though his deep pockets kept the rumors quiet. Not every ear was silenced however, and it was now that Skye found herself in a minor outrage over how a girl as sweet as Jemma could ever be forced to marry such a terrible man as Grant Ward, Duke of Lancaster. He had been long without a wife, but that did not grant him the right to just purchase whatever maiden he saw fit.
It was late in the evening, the afternoon sun lazily casting light over the countryside. The horses had been provided with grain, fodder, and the water troughs thoroughly cleaned. Skye had skirted around some of the cleaning, but what she didn't do now she could easily finish in the morning, since she had to do it all over again anyway.
It was now she found herself sneaking through the back door and into the store rooms of the manor, snatching two apples on her way out and into the kitchen. The gossip in the kitchen was even worse than it had been outside among the workers in the garden, and it made the brunette grit her teeth. She was going to have a few words with her dear friend about her present situation.
She snuck easily from the kitchen and up the stairs, slipping through a large wooden door and into a stone hallway. Skye had managed to somehow come out with not only the two apples, but also a couple cookies, a small sweet danish, and a slice of bread. She knew that Jemma could often read the day away without any thought to her well being and it was often that she brought snacks for the girl up to her study. Today was such a day.
By the time Skye had made her way to the second floor and around the corner to knock on the thick, oak door, half an apple and the slice of bread were gone, lost to her own stomach. Being a stable hand was not easy work.
"Jems, it's me, open up before someone sees and you don't get any of these sweets I have for you," Skye spoke hastily through the door. If she were caught, she would be thrown back outside and she would have to sneak all the way back here again. A waste of her good time, if she thought so herself.
Jemma heard Skye's voice from inside, muffled by the barrier between them, but she wasn't so sure she had the heart to answer tonight. She'd just received news that her future husband would be arriving within the week to take her away, and she wasn't excited to inform her friend of her impending departure.
Skye's persistent knocking caused a sigh to escape her lips as she drew her book away from her face and placed it pages down on the desk. Chair legs scraped against the floor when she stood up and Skye stumbled into the room as soon as Jemma opened the door, she'd obviously been leaning against it, eagerly awaiting her reply.
"What's wrong?" The first words out of Skye's mouth when they met eyes questioned her dejected facial expression.
"Nothing you need to trouble your mind with. Come, sit." Jemma forced a smile and gestured to the second chair near her own. She already knew Skye wouldn't buy her little act for a second, but she tried anyway. Skye dumped her edible offerings on the table despite the annoyed look Jemma lightly tossed her way, begging her to be careful about getting crumbs on her books.
"This is about Grant Ward, isn't it?" Skye asked. Somehow, the stable girl was able to read Jemma just as easily as Jemma read her literature. Her nose scrunched up with disgust when she said the name, like the very idea of him repulsed her. Quite honestly, Jemma felt the same way, but she was willing to have an open mind and try to like Grant. She was going to have to spend the rest of her life with this man, she should at least give him a chance.
"That's not it, I'm just a little tired. I haven't been getting much sleep lately." It wasn't entirely a lie, her mind was buzzing with thoughts each night, thoughts that prevented her from getting any kind of rest. She knew these were some of the last few nights she'd be sleeping in her own bed, in her own home.
"Well maybe if you read less and slept more you would get better sleep," Skye interjected with a grin, taking the seat that Jemma had offered her. "I'm also going to eat this danish if you don't, so sit down and talk to me." She motioned towards the seat, hoping that Jemma would sit. She could tell that the girl was hiding something, and honestly, she knew what it was. Skye only hoped that it wasn't true. The gossip wouldn't be real if Jemma didn't say it herself.
"Go ahead and have at it." Jemma sighed and smoothed out a few wrinkles on her skirt before gently lowering herself back into her chair. She'd actually managed to take care of herself today, so she wasn't as hungry as she would have been if she'd skipped lunch. "Truth be told, I have been more than a little stressed as of late." Jemma folded her hands in her lap and couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with Skye. It was too painful and she wouldn't be able to stand the look on the other girl's face when she told her the truth.
"Suit yourself," The brunette sighed and snatched up the danish, perhaps a little too hastily. She was tired from the day's work, as well as from being a growing girl. She needed the energy, though perhaps she should get it by eating actual meals instead of stolen sweets. Skye took a bite, careful not to get crumbs everywhere. She knew Jemma couldn't stand it when she made a mess. It was a wonder they were even friends. Skye was quite the messy person, with working in the stables and all.
"Just tell me why you're stressed," Skye urged gently. She took notice that the girl wasn't looking at her. She felt a rising knot in her stomach that the gossip might be right.
"I'm sure you've heard the rumors." Jemma muttered quietly, fumbling with her book, flipping through a few pages she'd clearly already read. Saying it made it true, and the reality of the situation scared Jemma more than she ever thought it could. She'd grown up knowing that she'd have to marry someone of her father's choice eventually, she just didn't expect the time to creep up on her so slyly. She feared moving so far from home, so much so that it made her physically sick to her stomach. She wouldn't know anyone, and worst of all, Skye wouldn't be there. Skye was just as much a permanent part of her life as her father and brother were. Any kind of life without her would be dull.
Skye had to keep herself from gritting her teeth together. Not that Jemma was watching. She wouldn't see her jaw clench or swallow hard as bile made its way up her throat.
"So…it is about Ward," she breathed. The knot in her stomach got tighter, but she chose to ignore it. This wasn't about her. It was about Jemma, and right now, Jemma needed her.
"Go ahead. You look like a sad little duck just sitting there, so spill," Skye coaxed, sitting back in the chair, fumbling with her danish as she ate it to keep herself distracted. Too many sweets. Maybe that's why she felt sick.
Jemma tried to think of some way to delay the inevitable, but she couldn't lie to Skye. If it were the other way around, she would have wanted more notice than she was giving the brunette.
"Ward will be here within the week. He'll be staying for a few days, and then I'm leaving with him." Jemma blurted out. There was no way to sugarcoat it, no matter how much Skye deserved a nice, thick layer of it. They were both going to be hurting when they had to say goodbye, and it was probably going to be worse for Skye. Jemma could make friends, but Skye wasn't so great at it. She would never say it, but Jemma was pretty sure she was the only person in the world Skye enjoyed being around.
This time Skye did grit her teeth, and her eyes darted to the floor. Right, of course. Of course the rumors were true. The entire estate wouldn't be talking about it if it wasn't. Her saying it made it real, and that meant that at the end of the week, Jemma would be leaving with him, gone forever to the other side of the wilds.
"Thats…" She searched desperately for a word that wasn't negative. Some form of encouragement for Jemma that would help her get through the week. She couldn't find one.
"Awful, that's awful," Skye settled on and dead panned, raising her eyes to look at Jemma again, "Why would your father choose him? The only reason he is rich is because he had all of his competitors killed off so that the people could only buy goods from him! You know that! He knows that! Your father knows that!" Skye shut her mouth then. She had risen from the chair at some point, gripping the armrests, before she slowly let them go, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Sorry…" She wasn't.
"Skye, don't." Tears were gathering in Jemma's eyes. She knew everything coming out of Skye's mouth was true, she even agreed with her.
"I don't have a choice in the matter," She stood abruptly and paced a few steps before grabbing the novel she had been reading and clutching it to her chest. "and you don't have a say. It's not your place." Jemma spit out the words. She'd never, ever treated Skye like a servant before, but she'd rather have the stable girl hate her when she left, it would make it easier. The two of them had been friends for years, but never before had Jemma seen the expression on Skye's face. Her jaw was slack, slightly hanging open, and something fierce shone in her eyes.
Skye had expected a lot of things before sneaking into the study. She had suspected Jemma would be upset, hence the snacks and sweets. She had expected Jemma to skirt around the subject, hence coaxing it out of her. She had expected the news to be true, but that didn't mean she liked it. What she hadn't expected was for Jemma to snap at her. In all their time together Jemma had never treated her like a servant, and it hurt her, that during such an important conversation, she would resort to doing so.
Tears were on the verge of spilling over in her own eyes, but she was too proud to let the noble girl see. So she snapped too.
"Pardon me, Lady Jemma. I forget my place," Skye clenched her jaw again. It seemed to be the theme for the evening. She shoved her fists into her pockets and fled the room, leaving the snacks on the table and slamming the door behind her. She didn't care if she was found in the house. She was leaving it anyway. It was clear no one wanted her there. At least the horses had manners.
Skye would never know about it, but as soon as she stormed out of the room, Jemma collapsed back into her chair while the echo of the slammed door bounced off the stone walls and Skye's hurtful words stung in her heart like a long-lasting poison. She knew she caused them herself, but it didn't make it any less painful.
A sob escaped her lungs, and she pressed a hand against her stomach. Corsets were not designed for crying; she could hardly breathe. She wasn't supposed to cry, not over Skye. Her chest heaved up and down and she struggled with every breath until she managed to calm down. She could bottle it up, she could wait to cry. She had to. If she couldn't stop herself now, she didn't think she'd ever be able to.