Note: Hiya! This is a super duper late Secret Santa story that I wrote really quickly and apologize for not revising more. This is for Cotton Candy Mareep who is pretty cool and likes Jamie/Jack which is one of the best things ever. I had a lot of angst to get out of my system so I opted for that angle instead of the fluffy adorable lightness of the season (sorry!) but I hope this ficlet makes up for it!
Disclaimer: Harvest Moon is owned by a company of individuals who should totally hire me but definitely are not me. So there's that.
This Belief
Winter, to Jamie, proved to be the most frivolous of the seasons.
Perhaps this was the one season where her knowledge of farming, and love of farming, failed her. She knew better than most the ways of the land, the way to coax a seed to fruition and marvel at how its blossoms unfurled at her tender care. The villagers, Jamie knew, suspected that she cared for nothing, but of course that wasn't true. Jamie cared for a great deal many things. People simply weren't one of them.
Winter hardly cared for people, either, but for such an unforgiving and bitter time of year, the villagers seemed insistent on making it the hallmark of merrymaking. Even that fool Jack had chosen to partake in it, despite his insistence on having his struggling farm compete with Jamie's. She would never understand him. Admittedly, Jamie never intended to. This was something that Jack didn't seem to grasp.
You see, Jack was forever visiting Jamie at the most inopportune times.
Most villagers had ceased to try. Some, like Blue and Kurt, simply didn't have the temperament for socializing. Others, like Carl and Joe, had learned too quickly that Jamie had no desire for companionship. News of her prickly reputation had become widespread, much to Jamie's delight, so much so that she only had to speak at festivals when her farm was competing with another. How her competitors seethed to see her thriving and succeeding, despite the unforgiveable coldness of her exterior.
So naturally, when the gentle-hearted and jovial Jack had started to defeat her in those competitions, they had embraced him all the more. At last, another farmer to depend upon for the town's survival. At last, someone who was One of Them.
Jack wanted Jamie to be One of Them, too. So idealistic. So naïve.
Bundled in her poncho, hat tipped over her eyes, Jamie would trudge over to her ranch in the snowfall and tend to the needs of her cattle. Jack would follow her inside, uninvited—for the man had no decency, no manners to commend him—and prod her to speak. "Are you enjoying the weather, Jamie?" he'd say, perhaps.
"I find it difficult to enjoy a climate whose plummeting temperature drags my profits down with it," Jamie would respond. Jack would laugh. Her eyes would narrow in turn.
"Come on, Jamie, don't you take a moment to enjoy a warm fireplace? A cup of Carl's hot cocoa?"
"This may surprise you, but my interests rarely align with yours, Jack."
Another laugh. The man couldn't tell when he was being mocked. He was either incredibly stupid, or incredibly infuriating. Most likely both.
On Thanksgiving day, the foolish farmer dared to follow Jamie once more. She'd taken to the mountains this time, hoping that the flurries of snow would mask her ascent. The solitude of the mountains in winter was something Jamie felt comfortable enjoying, and was one of the few things she loved about the season. This was the Harvest Goddess's doing, of course. Most everything Jamie loved was.
The Thanksgiving festival had once been a celebration of the Harvest Goddess, long ago. Many festivals once were, Jamie knew. Yet the simpletons of the village had transformed it into one of their ridiculous courting affairs. Men and women alike baked frivolous confections to exchange with one another, supposedly to 'thank' one another for their efforts of the year. No one had thanked the Harvest Goddess, not in some years.
That forgetfulness had proved fatal. And the villagers, still baking in their little ovens, still frittering about in their meaningless lives, never cared about what had happened to Her.
Jamie wouldn't care if their entire village burned to the ground. Not if it brought the Harvest Goddess back.
So Jamie had baked the only cake she cared to give during this festival, and though she'd trodden this mountain path with utmost secrecy, still she heard his voice behind her:
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to lose me!"
Furious beyond words, Jamie turned to see Jack panting behind her, his exhausted steed saddled by the opening of the cave. "Clearly you shouldn't doubt your senses," Jamie said in return. "Of course I was trying to lose you, and I'm sorry I didn't succeed."
"Has anyone told you that you're a very blunt person?"
Jamie shrugged, cloaking the cake further in the folds of her clothes. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a poor rancher? You shouldn't ride your horse when it's snowing."
"So don't outrun me, and my animals won't have to suffer."
"Are you always such a selfish person, Jack?"
"I don't know. Are you always so unpleasant?"
"For an unpleasant person, I attract a lot of unwanted company, don't I?"
Once more, Jack's mouth curved into his signature grin. "There's this theory, that the more you push something away, the harder it pushes back."
"What a stupid thing to do."
What transpired next could have been avoided easily, had either Jamie or Jack each done a simple thing that morning: check Nami's local weather report.
"In a bizarre turn of events, without precedent for some years," the red-haired reporter had announced that day, "a blizzard is set to strike on Thanksgiving Day. The Mayor of Flowerbud Village has declared that all festivities are to be delayed and all citizens are urged to stay in their homes until the storm subsides. Please stay safe until further notice."
So when, as Jamie sought to escape the unbearable company of Jack and his horse, the rumbling began overhead, both she and him were surprised to see the avalanche of snow careening down the mountainside. Though of the two, it's hard to say who was surprised more about how they reacted—Jamie, for being shoved by the farmer into the Harvest Goddess's cave, or Jack, for throwing himself in with her.
In moments, the snow sealed the entrance tight. Both Jamie and Jack breathed out of rhythm, staring at the icy white prison the cavern had become.
"Good Goddess," Jamie whispered, turning to him. "What have you done?"
"Saved your life, I think."
"Or merely prolonged it," she snapped. "Do you expect there's enough air in here for the both of us? Never mind food."
Dazed, Jack dusted the white off his overalls and took in a quick glance of his surroundings. Jamie already knew them well. Despite the snow outside, this cave was forever green with life. The dulcet sound of water spilling into the spring filled the area with a melody that was almost magical, though the magic had long been lost from this place. Jamie knew that better than most.
"Is that Her?" Jack was asking now. He pointed to the statue on top of the falls, and Jamie stilled.
Of course he'd focus on that. Her. The expression of the Harvest Goddess, despite her stony exterior, was smiling. Jamie had always resented that. The Goddess should have been angry, Jamie felt. The Goddess should have wanted to punish the villagers who had let her fall into such a state. Instead, her arms remained open wide to all who would seek her, though only Jamie ever had. Always so generous.
And now, that generosity was just stone cold memory.
"I don't see your horse," Jamie said instead of answering. "Don't suppose you left her outside to die?" She knew the words were cruel the moment she said them, but she felt cruel in that moment. She wanted to see the fear flash in his eyes, wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain she felt standing in this place and thinking about the Goddess who'd left her.
"What? No, no, I'm sure he ran," Jack said, but his eyes remained unsure. "He's a smart horse."
"Of course he is. Just like his rider."
A strange look passed over Jack's face. "Why are you making me regret this?"
"Regretting what?"
"Saving you."
"It's just as well," Jamie replied, turning her back on the statue. "You were never going to be able to save Her. I don't know why you'd be able to save anyone else, whether it's me or your stupid horse."
The next hour passed in silence. For once, Jack didn't have anything clever to say.
When Jamie was growing up, she didn't hate people. Not as much as now. She liked to be alone, still, but she didn't hate not being alone. People seemed interesting, at least interesting enough to watch awhile, and listen.
The festivals had been fun, back then. Children get the best of what a festival has to offer. Well-meaning, smiling grown-ups would give Jamie sweets, or a sampling of their prized produce, or allow her to ride a pony around the race track, squealing with delight as she leisurely crossed the finish line. Festivals were easier, too, because no one had to decide what to do with her. Orphan girls didn't show up in Flowerbud Village that often, and if they did, surely there had to be a place for them. An orphanage run by a local priest? A well-meaning childless couple, willing to take her in? Jamie's existence perplexed people, and before they could find a home for her, she'd returned to her secret residence in the Harvest Goddess Spring.
It didn't matter who Jamie's parents used to be, or how the Harvest Goddess had found her. The point was that Jamie had been found.
"Hey, Jamie. When do you suppose someone will look for us?"
Jamie had been sitting in quiet meditation when Jack finally spoke up. To be honest, Jamie hadn't expected anyone to care. People rarely cared about Jamie, and that was how she liked it. Jack was different, of course. Someone always had to care about him.
"I suspect when people realize they can't buy your milk or your eggs, and their plans for holiday feasting are ruined," Jamie replied. "Alternatively, that girl who's been mooning over you… Oh, what's her name…?"
"Nina?"
"Yes, that one, Nina. She'll be so disappointed, oh boo hoo hoo, Jack didn't give me a cake on Thanksgiving, all my prospects are ruined." Jamie snorted. "Unless you already have, in which case, we'll be waiting until the Starry Night Festival. I hope you packed some food with you."
At that point, Jamie saw the furtive movement of Jack's hands, the way they stole back protectively into his pack.
"So you did bring something," she said.
"Not for me, no. And not for Nina either, thanks."
"Oh good Goddess, you didn't. You didn't bring that for me, did you?" And Jamie laughed. Oh, she laughed, and Jack blushed redder—Jamie swore she had never known a man to blush before now.
"Look, it's Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for a lot of people and one of them is you, okay?"
"Me. You're thankful to be in this cave, with me?"
Jamie tried to stop laughing, but couldn't. The thought was too absurd.
"Well, right now I'm thankful I brought something to eat, anyway, so that we don't starve here. That's more than you did."
The cake pressed up against Jamie's stomach but she only wrapped it tighter in her shawl. "Whatever. Don't worry. Someone in that stupid village who can't bear to be without you will say something eventually, and a search party will show up, and everyone will be surprised to see us both here. They'll be surprised to even find out I've gone." She pulled her knees to her chest and shrugged. "I could wait here until Spring, otherwise."
Jack's features softened, his hand resting on Jamie's shoulder. She tensed at the touch. "Hey. Don't say that."
"What? It's true. What's true isn't hurtful, it's just true."
"Someone would look for you."
"Who?"
"I would."
Jamie fixed him with a long, hard stare. "I don't get you," she said at last. "You just can't seem to handle the fact that someone in this village can't be bribed into liking you, is that it?"
"Bribed?" Now Jack was the one fixing Jamie with a look.
"Oh, please. Don't think I don't see you, handing people gifts left and right, like you're some kind of wealthy uncle to everyone you meet. Girls, swooning over mist flowers. Cooked meals for mothers and grandmothers. And don't get me started on those… trophies you shove off on your fellow men."
"Trophies?"
"Oh look at this rare ore I found, oh look at this fish, isn't she a beauty? Hey, why don't you take it off my hands? Oh really, sir, don't worry, I have six more of these at home." Jamie jumped to her feet and met Jack's stare. "Well? Am I wrong?"
"Good Goddess, you're cynical."
"I'm observant. You can't buy my favor, and that just kills you, doesn't it?"
Jack scowled at her. "It's not about bribing. It's just, look, it's… I'm observant too. Okay?"
"I don't follow. You observe that people like to be flattered and pampered?"
"No, I notice things that people like and appreciate. So when I find something they'll enjoy, I try to bring it to them. Like you and blueberries."
Jamie flushed with color. "I hate blueberries."
"No you don't. You love them, especially with jam."
"I hate jam and I hate you. Stop being so stupid."
Jamie used to get jam all the time at the village festivals. The Harvest Goddess had delighted in seeing her return from those festivals, fingers and lips stained blue with the sugary treats. "I don't understand, Harvest Goddess. The villagers seem so nice. Why don't they believe?"
And then the Harvest Goddess, so kind, so gentle and full of faith, ran her fingers through Jamie's hair and said, "Belief is hard, Jamie. Especially when you already believe something else."
Upon hearing those words, Jamie's chin had jutted out, and she'd announced, "I'll make them believe. Don't worry. They'll see." They didn't believe, though. They never would.
Jack took off his hat and ran his fingers through his mop of brown hair before donning the cap again. "You don't have to believe that I care about you, Jamie."
"Good, because I don't."
"That doesn't mean I don't, though. It means you just don't see that I do."
"Who are you?" Jamie interrupted. "You don't even have a personality. All you do is try to say the right thing. And you give the right thing. And you do the right thing. People like that aren't real, they're just fake versions of who they actually are. To be real, you have to hate some things."
"Like what?"
"Like me. You have to hate things about me."
The farmer opened his mouth, then closed it. "If that's true, you have to like some things about me, too. It goes both ways. I'll tell you things I hate if you tell me things you like about me."
Jamie watched him wait for her reply, and she briefly considered him not as an annoyance, but as a handsome man. After all, wasn't that was he was implying? That he saw her as a beguiling woman, someone attractive and interesting? She supposed he was well built, muscled from his work on the farm. Good work ethic. Not hard on the eyes.
"Fine. You're not ugly."
Jack laughed; somehow the sound startled Jamie. She hadn't heard that sound since they'd been sealed in here. In the cavern, it echoed off the walls, reverberating with mirth. For a strange moment, she found it almost charming.
"Say something you hate about me," Jamie said, too quickly.
"I hate that you assume everyone is the worst version of themselves."
"Isn't everyone, though? At least at some point."
"We have moments of weakness, sure," Jack replied. "But they're not forever. They're not really who we are."
At that, the fury kindled once more in Jamie, and the laughter bouncing in the cave seemed crass, wrong. She hated the village, and she hated Jack, and she hated that no one else seemed to. "Well. How patronizing."
Jack looked puzzled. "How do you mean?"
"You assume you know so much," Jamie spat, the anger flaring hot. "You're barely here a year, and suddenly you're an expert on Flowerbud Village and its residents? Let me tell you something. That bubble-headed pink-haired girl you fancy? She, her mother, and her mother's mother, all of them killed my mother."
"Don't you think—?"
"I don't think anymore. I know." Jamie jabbed a finger at the statue of the Harvest Goddess, encased forever in stone, and struggled to keep her voice level. Each thought tumbled out, words that had stewed far too long, burned too bright to be contained anymore: "They're not innocent. They're guilty, and they deserve to be hated. Even you. Especially you, for defending them after knowing what they've done."
The words had their intended effect; Jack was speechless. Jamie's whole body shook with her outrage, trembling with emotions that she had managed to bottle for one too many years.
"I hate that you don't believe in me," Jack said, voice quiet.
"What's there to believe in?" she replied. "What proof do you have that you can do what an entire village of people couldn't? What I couldn't?" Jamie sneered at him. How had she found him charming, handsome, anything bearable a mere five minutes ago?
"I also hate that you care more about punishing people than saving your Goddess."
This time, it was Jack whose voice had risen, and Jamie who was struck silent.
"You think I'm bribing you so that you'll like me?" Jack continued, advancing towards the rancher girl with fire in his eyes. "I'm bribing you so that you'll help me. Do you have any idea how daunting it is, to be asked by a Goddess that you don't know to save a village you've only just joined? Do you think I asked for this, Jamie?"
After a moment of silence, Jamie shrugged. "I like you better when you're angry," she said instead. "You're actually interesting."
"Is that what it takes to get your attention, then? Should I be cold to you, cruel to you, the way you are to me? Is that what will make you want to save the Goddess you call a mother?"
"At least you're honest when you're cruel," Jamie shot back. "And I'd save her but I can't. And if I can't, why should you?"
"Because this isn't about me, not really. This is about Her, and this is about you. I can't do this without you, don't you see that? And you can't do it without me." Jack put the cake on the floor between them and stepped back. "So yes. Thank you. For making it possible for me to actually, maybe, succeed."
The thought struck Jamie with surprising force. Had that been it, all along? One person simply wasn't enough to break an entire village's spell? It wasn't that Jack was chosen, maybe, but rather, that he had been chosen to help her. Could that be possible?
Jamie stared at the cake for awhile before withdrawing her own from her shawl. Her eyes never leaving Jack's, she stepped forward and, after a moment's hesitation, put her cake beside his. "This was for the Harvest Goddess," she said, awkward as she retreated a few steps. "But, you starving might be a problem, if what you're saying is true."
A pause lingered between them before Jack asked, "So are you thankful, then?"
"For what?"
"For me."
"I have no other options," Jamie said. "Trying alone has failed. Trying with you might produce some other result, so… Whatever." She felt her cheeks heat up despite herself, and cursed under her breath. "You had better not disappoint me," she said, the steel coming back into her voice. "I'll never forgive you if you stop trying, or if you fail. I will hate you more than I have ever hated anyone in this hateful village, and I will stop at nothing to see you—"
Who had taken the first step between them? Had Jack moved first, and Jamie simply followed? Who had put their arms around who first, initiated the kiss that drew them both close for a warm, tender moment in this otherwise cold, harsh cavern. As they pressed close, they felt the heat of one another's body, the quickening rhythm of one another's heartbeat.
Jamie could never remember feeling so at peace, and so secure. She became vaguely aware of her hat falling to the floor, of Jack's arms holding her close as if afraid one day she'd slip through his embrace. To her surprise, she held him back with equal fervor. As their faces drew apart, she saw his cheeks were just as flushed as hers, and the sparkle in his eyes had only brightened.
"I think you were interrupted," Jack said, his stupid little smirk tugging at his mouth again. "What were you saying?"
"That I will stop at nothing," Jamie said, gazing up at him fiercely.
"And neither will I."
The village would remark, in quiet circles, on what exactly transpired in that cave between Jamie and Jack. Many said it was the first sign, the moment they started to believe that the Harvest Goddess intended to return to Flowerbud Village. What else, they wondered among themselves, could have thawed the coldness from Jamie's heart, and convinced Jack to pursue her?
They were not entirely wrong, Jamie would think later. For in that moment, Jamie had caught sight of a glimmer in the cave, followed by a quiet hum, a paean of an otherworldly melody. It swirled about the two of them in melodious delight before fading, and for a moment—for the first time in many years—Jamie felt the presence of the Harvest Goddess in Flowerbud Village, and believed.