Heart Don't Fail me Now
Jemma stood in line waiting her turn for the ticket counter. Her stomach was in knots and though she should be happy for Fitz she found herself miserable. With a sign she saw she was next, and she rummaged in her bag to get her fare, coming out instead with the gray cap they'd gotten to help conceal Fitz's identity along with the pamphlet they had gotten when they arrived at the Louvre. She ran her fingers over the hat with a small smile, picturing how he had peered up at her from beneath its rim, the small shy smile that played on his lips.
It hit her then as her turn at the counter came, she loved him, he was her home, and she could not walk away from that.
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Fitz anxiously peered out from behind the long red velvet curtain into the crowds that had amassed in the ballroom. The site jogging something from his reforming memories, of nights such as these long ago. Jewels glittered against richly appointed attire as a mix of press and nobles anxiously awaited the reveal on the long lost and now found Prince.
"She's not there," his uncle said, Fitz jumping with a blush.
"I wasn't- Who Uncle?" Fitz mumbled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sash that ran across his chest. Coulson wrapped an arm around him and lead him over to a mirror, allowing the young man to look himself. He hardly recognized who started back at him.
He wore white pants with a deep, sapphire blue suit jacket. The sash that ran across his chest one from the ancient clans he was descended from, a small gold pin holding it in place the Royal Crest. And while the attire was new, it was incredibly uncomfortable, and left him longing for the soft cotton blue shirt Jemma had brought what seemed like a life time ago. It was the crown upon his head that weighed upon him heavily. It too was gold, embedded with sapphires and emeralds. Bobbi had teased that all the Fitz clan had those beautiful blue eyes and seemed intent on showing them off any chance they had.
"A very remarkable young woman who found a simple little box," he said, seeing the sadness flicker in his nephew's eyes. "She's probably already taken the money to the best school she could find," Fitz added sadly.
Coulson sighed, running a soothing hand on Fitz's back. "You were born into the life of glittering jewels and titles. But I wonder if this is what you really want?"
Fitz was surprised, looking at his Uncle in disbelief. "Of course it is, I searched for so long for you, for who I am."
"My dear Boy is it enough? You must know, she didn't' take the money." Coulson said with a small smile.
Fitz looked up, hope shimmering in his eyes. "She didn't?"
"She didn't." Coulson confirmed with a smile. "Finding in you again, knowing you are safe, seeing the amazing young man you have become, has given me such great joy. But, I want you to be happy." Fitz remained silent yet met his Uncles gaze, "Whatever you decide Leo, I'll be happy I want you to be as well." With that Coulson gave him a brief hug, before pulling himself together, and stepping into the ballroom to applause from the guests.
Left alone, Fitz looked in the mirror again, his thoughts turning to Jemma. He had searched so long for his family yet he didn't feel like he was home. He had felt like he was truly home, as he'd held her in his arms and danced aboard the ship, walked hand in hand with her in the Louvre or slipped tea with her over a shared book. With one last glance back towards the ballroom, he made up his mind, and ran down the servants stairs.
His mind worked rapidly at how he could get to the train station as fast as possible. His eyes fell on the large building that held his Uncle's car collection. "Lola will be fast enough," he said running out the back steps.
His feet had just hit the gravel of the driveway when a large black car screeched to a halt right in front of him and blocked his path. Fitz leap back to avoid getting hit, falling hard to the ground and backing away best he could. The door opened and the man from his nightmares loomed in the door "You!" he stammered.
"Hello, Leo" he said, reaching out and grabbing Fitz by the arm, and hauled him into the back of the car. His cry for help swallowed by his assailant's free hand. The Prince was even fully into the car before the driver had started moving and tore off into the dead of night.
"Fitz!" Jemma screamed, running down the stairs, helpless to do anything but watch as he was pulled into the car.
"Fitz! No!" she cried again. She briefly debated running back inside, getting help from Hunter and Mack, before it crashing down there was no time for that. With every passing moment Fitz was being taken farther away.
Unable and unwilling to waste another moment, she freed one of the horses from the antique carriage Coulson had used to make their arrival in. Part of a long held tradition of some sorts. Thanking her mother for insisting that she take riding lessons as a girl.
She spurred the horse on, forcing it into a gallop, eyes fixed on the lights of the car as it turned at the end of the long driveway.
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Fitz pressed himself as far into the door and away from the creature as he could. Ward regarding him with a smirk from the seat across from him. "You've grown up," He smirked.
"Let me go!" Fitz demanded, he may have just recently learned he was a Prince, but he put every ounce of authority he had into the demand. He knew his attacker but once again his mind failed him as to just who he was, his dark eyes and hair one of the many ghosts from his past he was remembering.
"Oh I plan on letting you go, I need to finish what I started all those years ago," Ward said leaning in. "And once you are finally dead my revenge will be complete, your clan finally meeting its end, receiving its penance for banishing me. It took me a thousand years but I will finally have my revenge."
Fitz was now really confused, "Who are you?" he finally asked, his hand slipping back to the door handle.
Ward smiled, holding his arms our grandly. "I have had many names, over the centuries, taken many hosts. My followers called me Maveth's, Death. You my dear boy knew me as Grant Ward. The most honored and revered of the Royal Guard, entrusted with the greatest honor the kingdom had to offer, the personal guard of the beloved crown prince Leopold."
It was as if someone flipped a switch in his head, the memories as they had with his uncle flooding back in the blink of an eye. Ward, had been like a big brother too him, with him ever since he could remember, yet that fateful night it had been Ward who had thrown him into the icy waters surrounded the castle. "Grant?" Fitz stammered holding his hand to his head in an attempt to block the pain.
Ward laughed, "You know he never really cared for you, my former host. He was working with Hydra all along, prepared since his youth to be my host, and to get in the perfect position to incite my revenge!"
Now unwanted tears began to well in Fitz's eyes, the city still moving by, hundreds of happy moments with the man who had been his protector now tainted in an instant. The creature pounced, "But you, you got away that night and condemned me to a whimper of my former greatness. No more, you are going to die tonight little Leo, and there will be no one to save you this time."
Fitz narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath "Who says I need to be saved!" he shot. As he spoke he thrust the door handle down, Ward having left it unlocked in his carelessness, and Fitz rolled out of the moving car onto one of the many bridges strew throughout the city.
Fitz his the side of the bridge, letting out a small grunt of pain before pulling himself up, not noticing the crown had fallen off and rolled into the darkness, and starting to run the away from the car that was currently skidding to a halt, Ward leaping from the vehicle with a bloody sword, the driver dead in his fit of anger, and a scream of rage. Fitz began to run, his shoes slipping on the wet cobblestone and he found himself cursing the impracticality of his entire ensemble.
He didn't make it far, Ward easily closing the distance and grabbing Fitz roughly by the collar of his shirt, raising him into the air. Fitz's hands uselessly tried to pry himself free, kicking desperately at Wards chest as he slowly made his way to the edge of the bridge and the icy waters than ran below. "Fitting," Ward said with a devious smirk. "And now my little prince, it's time to die."
They were just inches from the railing when, Ward paused cocking his head to the side and peering into the darkness beyond the bridge. Fitz heard it before he saw anything, the sound of a horse galloping. The thought of why anyone would be on a horse, in the streets, this time of night barely crossing his mind before his crown came sailing through the darkness, hitting Ward right between the eyes.
The impact did little to hurt Ward, though it did pause him long enough for the horse and its rider to burst from the darkness, Jemma Simmons tiny form using every bit of forward momentum she could muster, and leaping onto Ward taking him and Fitz to the ground hard. "Unhand him," Jemma hissed latching onto the monster's back, nails clawing at his face, eyes, any sensitive area Hunter had instructed her to go for should she ever be in a pinch.
To her and Fitz's utter surprise he complied, throwing Fitz away as if he were an unwanted toy, towards the idling vehicle, stars once dancing in his eyes as he hit. Blearily he forced them open, and on the ground next to him, the bag Jemma had carried their entire journey from Scotland. Remembering the contents Fitz began to dig frantically, looking for the small item he knew to be there. Jemma let out a cry of pain and quickly drove his attention back to the threat, as Ward got the upper hand on her, rolling so he now had her pinned to the ground and was squeezing her throat tightly.
"No!" Fitz screamed, his voice breaking in anguish as he rushed towards them.
"Run!" Jemma gasped, Ward glancing up at the Fitz who had frozen a few steps away. "Yes, run away Leo so I many finish this little meddler off once and for all. She thinks I don't remember her, the girl that opened the secret door, that tried helped you get away."
Again the memories came crashing back, the passage, Uncle Coulson ushering him through, his brown eyed class mate defiantly standing up to the guards. And without another moment hesitation he brought his weapon up and leveled it at Ward.
Ward didn't let up the pressure on her throat, savoring every gasping breath she let out, and seemed amused at the antics. "Go ahead, shoot me." He challenged even raising himself up higher to afford Fitz a clear shot at his chest.
Fitz didn't hesitate, firing the flare gun, catching the monster full in the chest where it exploded in a shower of sparks and fire around him, the pieces miraculously missing Jemma. Ward released her and stood up in a panic, trying to brush the flames away, instead only causing them to spread more quickly across his clothes and skin.
The flames danced in Wards eyes as he howled with rage, setting his sights on Fitz one last time. "If I die, you will die with me!" he screaming charging at Fitz, despite the flames now eating away at his body. Fitz knew he couldn't get away, he'd fired at too close of a range to allow for that and braced himself for the oncoming attack. So focused on Ward, he didn't feel two hands grabbing his tunic and yanking him back at the last possible second. The charging Ward running by and right over the side of the bridge into the icy waters below, the body hitting with an angry hiss followed by the nothing the silence of the night and the two lone occupants on the bridge.
Fitz quickly rolled, Jemma lying beside him letting out a few raspy coughs between sucking in great breaths of air. Not caring they were both laying in the middle of the road, he caressed her cheek tenderly, his blue eyes meeting hers. "I thought you were going home?" he questioned.
Tears shimmered in her eyes, her own hand reciprocating his action, her thumb running along the stubble on his cheek. "I know, I just couldn't," she said.
"But the-"Fitz began, Jemma fingers squeezing his face slightly.
"I couldn't," She said again this time more firmly. Their eyes locked as her hand slipped from his cheek and down to his chest.
"Why?" Fitz asked, his voice barely above a whisper and strained with emotion. Jemma didn't have the words to answer him, instead content to show him, leaning in to the point where he could feel his breath upon her lips. She could feel her body tingling in anticipation, her heart pounding in her ears, his heart pounding against her hand. Shifting slightly her foot knocked into something, the sound of scraping metal shattering the moment.
Tearing their eyes away they looked down, finding the crown at her feet. Fitz sighed heavily as she picked it up. The gold and jewels shimmering in the moonlight. Slowly rising they started at it, its weight now heavy in her hands, "We need to get you back." She whispered, moving to place it back on his head.
Fitz stopped her, taking the heirloom into his hands and studying in it intently, before looking up to meet Jemma's eyes once more "I think I know just what to do about this."
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The small parlor was packed with an anxious group as the guards searched the grounds of the manor for the wayward Prince. "We need to go find him," Mack ground out from his position by the window.
Hunter rolled his eyes from his position lounging on the couch, Bobbi sitting at his side looking just as worried as Mack. "The kid can handle himself, I showed him a thing or two on the way here. Probably just went for a walk for some air. I know you lot might be use to all of…this. But he is not. He'll be back by dessert."
Bobbi looked to Coulson who was surprisingly just as calm as Hunter, sitting in a chair by the fireplace watching the fire in silence.
The doors to the room briefly opened, reveling Melinda May. The Duke's personal guard carrying the crown Fitz had been wearing and a note. The smallest of smiles playing on her lips as she handed them to Coulson. "My Lord, this was just delivered by messenger."
Coulson look them, somehow recognizing the untidy scrawl of his nephew, it hadn't improved much since he was a child.
Dearest Uncle,
Wish us luck! We'll be together in Paris again soon. But Jemma and I have….
Tears and a smile crossed Coulson's face, holding up a signed certificate from the priest at a local church. "They've eloped," He announced with a wide smile, everyone in the room breaking into cheers and applause.
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The small vessel sailed down the Seine River, of Pairs. Its deck lite by the stars and a few strands of light, basking the only two passengers in its glow. They were scraped, bruised, battered and wearing torn and tattered clothes. Fitz's formal wear filthy, Jemma's simple green dress in shreds. But neither one seemed to mind. A waltz played from a record player, the slightly lively tune causing Fitz to pick Jemma up in his arms, spinning the pair around and eliciting a cry of delight from her. Hand holding onto his neck tightly to pull him down into her embrace.
He happily accepted the gesture, spinning her a few more times, before setting her down to deepen the kiss, arms slipping to her waist and pulling her tightly against him. Jemma pulled away resting her forehead against his and simply gazed into his eyes.
"You know," He said playfully dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. "By marrying me, you are in fact a Princess now…technically Queen as I am the only living heir to the throne."
"Is that so," she said mischievously nuzzling into his neck.
Fitz just hummed accent "Just because I didn't' take the crown doesn't mean I give up my families wealth or land. Uncle Coulson was so kind as to sign control of those back over to me meaning we can go anywhere, do anything. So I must ask, what is it that her royal highness desires?" he asked beginning to Waltz with her again.
"Shall we travel the world?"
"Take an apartment in the city"
"See what the University says about accepting you know that you are royalty?"
"Or should we simply move into the Royal Library you love so much?"
Jemma just smiled, grabbing him by his tunic and pulling his lips to hers once more. "Perthshire," she whispered without any hesitation as she pulled away. "Just you and me in a quaint cottage seeing what we can do about building back up the Royal Bloodline."
His face lit up with a smile, pulling her tighter to him, he let her go once and was never going to again.
The End
A/N: Okay that's it! I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks for reading.
