A/N: Everything's very Fitzsimmons-y from here on out folks! Get excited.
With Jemma and Fitz's reconciliation, things at the palace almost instantly went back to normal. Of course there was now the added intrigue of a secret romance between Lincoln and Daisy, but Fitz found that not even the addition of Daisy particularly interrupted his work with Jemma.
Their arrow experiment had worked wonderfully. Lance had left them both yelling about how he didn't care whether or not it was for science, he wasn't going to be shot at, so they had merely tested how well the solution worked after traveling hundreds of feet through the air, with positive results. Fitz was still working on the daggers, but for now, any cavalrymen that went off to battle were armed with a leak-proof pouch full of the compound and were accompanied by archers. Casualties fell, captures increased, and victories against the smugglers remained strong. Fitz and Jemma's solution was heralded as a great success.
Fitz paid no mind to that momentary thought he had had on the day he and Jemma had worked things out. It was just Daisy and the curse making him think about true love; of course he would start to see it everywhere if that was the lens he was looking through. He was just glad to have his best friend back, and a new friend besides.
King Grant left after a few weeks, allowing Daisy to remain behind, under the supervision of the king and queen.
Daisy lost no time after Grant's departure in revealing to their entire group, officially, that she and Lincoln were engaged, but that, as she had explained to Fitz, they wouldn't be able to marry for a few years, until Lincoln was no longer Mack's squire.
There was a secret engagement party at Dame Isobel's, and it was one of the happiest nights Fitz could remember. He and Jemma had spent the evening side by side, talking and laughing with their friends.
Everyone had been thrilled that Fitz and Jemma had worked things out. The pair of them had accosted Mack by the stables asking about a bow and arrows that day, and he had quickly fulfilled their requests with a wide smile and a sigh of relief. By teatime, the entire group had evidently been informed, and Fitz and Jemma were able to have tea and cookies together, talking a mile a minute about arrows and their work in the lab.
Daisy and Lincoln's engagement actually remained fairly secret outside of their crowd. Most people at the palace had long ago decided to ignore the antics of the young prince, his best friend, and the troop of knights, squires, and ladies that ran around with them. Daisy's addition to the group did little to change that image, and the fact that she and Lincoln were regularly seen around the castle together was viewed as nothing more than them both being part of the prince's group of friends.
The one person outside their group that did find out rather quickly was the queen. With the king home for present, she had been relieved of some of her duties, and she had ended up spending more time with Fitz, and subsequently with the group as a whole. Tea in the queen's parlor became a weekly event, but on one such afternoon Fitz discovered that his mother was not oblivious to the secret engagement.
As Fitz and Jemma talked training with Bobbi and Lance, Fitz saw his mother's eyes land on Lincoln and Daisy talking to Mack and Lady Mackenzie. Lincoln and Daisy were both well practiced in not acting like they were together, but the queen was observant and very clever, and Daisy and Lincoln were less than careful if their friends were around. The queen looked curiously at the slight distance between the secretly engaged couple and at the almost-permanent smiles that remained on their faces as they glanced at each other, and Fitz realized he had to intervene.
He excused himself from his conversation quickly, shooting a glance at Jemma that meant that he would explain to her later, and he walked over to where his mother was talking to Dame Isobel and Lady Simmons.
"Oh yes, Leo!" his mother called, raising her hand in apology to the women she was talking to, "I needed your help with something through here."
Fitz nodded, almost rolling his eyes at his mother's not-so-subtle attempt to speak with him privately, and he followed her to the next room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to him with her eyebrows raised. "So Daisy and Lincoln then?"
"You can't say anything to Father," Fitz pleaded. "He'd tell Grant, and Daisy doesn't think he would approve."
His mother stared at him appraisingly for a moment before smiling. "Of course I won't say anything." She laughed slightly. "They do look very happy together."
Fitz smiled to himself. "They are. You should hear them talk about each other."
The queen's smile remained for a moment, but then her face turned serious. "Well tell them to be more careful. I'm more observant than most, but that wasn't particularly difficult for me to pick up on."
"They're more careful in company," Fitz hurriedly explained.
The queen stared at him skeptically but nodded. "Good."
Fitz took that as his dismissal, but before he left, his mother's words stopped him.
"I hope you find someone who can make you that happy someday, Leo."
He turned around and flashed a sad smile at his mother. They had never spoken about the curse together, but that was the unspoken bit to that sentence. She hoped Fitz could find someone that would make him that happy and that he would be allowed to keep that happiness.
The king, completely oblivious to the secret engagement, was clearly loath to go back out on campaign, partly due to Daisy's continued presence at the castle, but also due to his admission to Fitz about Maveth and Fitz's childhood. Now that things were okay with Jemma, Fitz had more time to worry about the curse, which meant nights in his father's study asking him questions about his leads and where the cavalry had been searching. The king was reluctant to discuss the matter with Fitz, wanting his son to have a chance at a normal childhood free from all the madness of the curse, but after a while he finally gave in.
Fitz discovered that his father had been through all of the neighboring kingdoms, had followed a trail hundreds of miles in one instance only to discover that the scroll that, legend said, held the key to Maveth's power had been moved centuries before, if it existed at all. They had searched caves and abandoned castles and talked to anyone even close to resembling a sorcerer, but there was nothing. Just the rumor of a scroll and the promise of a curse.
Jemma was glad that Fitz was spending so much time with his father after all the years of Fitz feeling as though his father was neglecting him. Jemma had been the only person who really knew how upset Fitz had been by his father's near-constant absences, and Fitz was always grateful to see her smile if Fitz left her at the end of the day saying that he was going to see his father. She understood him more than anyone else did.
Jemma asked Fitz once what he and his father were so busy discussing in his office, but Fitz had just frowned and said it was the thing that he wasn't allowed to tell her about. Jemma had stared at him, frustrated, but after a moment she'd sighed and let it go. Fitz could tell that Jemma was itching to investigate the situation, but she was holding back because she didn't want to violate Fitz's (or the king's) trust. Fitz had always known he was lucky to have Jemma, but it was moments like this where it really hit him how amazing his best friend actually was.
Fitz turned fifteen in August, and 23 days later Jemma followed. Daisy, still fourteen, didn't have her birthday until late spring. Fitz and Jemma teased Daisy about the age difference (Jemma having had to deal with Fitz lording his birthday over her for her entire life) until Daisy shot back that she was the only one of them who was engaged so even if she wasn't older, she was at least more of an adult than they were.
Fitz and Jemma had exchanged glances, and Jemma had commented that she and Fitz had no one to be engaged to so she didn't see that as an indicator of anything.
Daisy had raised her eyebrows but said nothing, instead moving the conversation to the Lincoln's impending seventeenth birthday.
The weeks with Daisy turned to months. She took some lessons with Fitz and Jemma and spent lots of time talking politics with the king and queen, and of course she passed plenty of evenings with the rest of their friends or alone with Lincoln. But the happy life they all enjoyed at the palace during the princess's visit couldn't last forever.
One spring morning, as the royal family and the young princess ate breakfast together in the dining room, Daisy received a letter, but before anyone could inquire about its contents, Daisy had run off, tears streaming down her face.
Fitz stood up, sharp looks from his parents assigning him the unspoken mission to follow her. He knew immediately where to go.
There was an alcove hidden behind one of the staircases that Fitz and Jemma had showed Daisy a week after her arrival. The space was small, but cozy, containing a rose-colored loveseat and an empty, half-size bookshelf. It was set back in such a way that no one could see inside unless they came right around from the front, but the tile floors gave warning to the party inside that someone was coming.
From the day that Fitz and Jemma had shown it to Daisy, it had become her particular space in the castle, aside from her bedroom, where she read books that the king lent her, wrote letters, and kept her journal, and where she and Lincoln could hide away out of the prying eyes of the palace. Fitz and Jemma had come back there with Daisy many times, but it was truly Daisy's room.
Fitz could tell that Daisy was back in the alcove by the sniffles that filled the otherwise silent foyer.
"Daisy?" Fitz said from around the corner, not wanting to intrude without permission.
"Come in," his friend's voice choked out from the other side of the wall.
Fitz followed Daisy's instructions and found himself faced with Daisy sitting on the loveseat, her arms curled around her knees, a piece of paper Fitz assumed was the letter laid out beside her.
Fitz stepped inside, moving to sit next to Daisy. Instantly she collapsed onto him, crying into his shirt.
Fitz wrapped his arms around his friend, rubbing her back comfortingly, not wanting to press her for information. He glanced around at the shelves filled with Daisy's things: books from his father, a well-worn leather-bound journal, a small mirror, a few trinkets from home, and a single rose that Fitz knew to be from Lincoln. Beside Daisy sat a blanket that Fitz had last seen in the library.
After a few minutes, Daisy's sobs finally lessened, and she sat up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "It's Grant," she said, still sniffling, "he's 'commanded' me to come home." She held out the letter to Fitz. "He says I've 'imposed upon you for too long' and that I need to return so he can start trying to find a suitable prince for me to marry, since you and I never worked out." Daisy laughed mirthlessly. "I can pretend not to be engaged, and I can easily pretend the reason I haven't found a husband is that I don't like any of the princes, but what I don't know if I can do is leave." She looked up at Fitz, her eyes red. "These have been the best months of my entire life, do you know that? When my mother died I never thought I'd be happy again, and when Lincoln had to leave and my father died too, I just assumed I'd been right. But then we came here, and I met you and Jemma, and I found Lincoln, and now I have a family who actually cares for me. Grant just cares for power. He didn't even shed a tear when Father died. Not one. He made some bold statement about 'doing his duty,' and then I saw him smiling at his coronation when he thought no one was looking. I don't want to go back there, Fitz. I almost wish I was marrying you; then he'd let me stay."
Fitz sat back at Daisy's words, affronted, making his friend laugh.
"Only kidding, of course," she said, a genuine smile gracing her face, "but it would be easier." Daisy sighed. "I knew this was going to come sooner or later – I have been here more than nine months – but I've just been pretending I can live here forever."
"You'll be able to come back and visit again," Fitz said optimistically, putting on a happy face for his friend, even though the idea of her leaving made him almost as upset as it had made Daisy. "You have me and Jemma as excuses for why you need to come back, and you can write to us all the time." He put his arm around his friend, noticing momentarily that he had actually grown taller than her during the months of her stay. "We're all really going to miss you, but if you have to leave then let's make these last few weeks count, yeah?"
Daisy took a deep breath and looked up at him, tears finally gone from her eyes and a smile back on her face, albeit a small one. "Okay."
Fitz and Daisy walked back to breakfast, Daisy's arm laced through Fitz's as she leaned against his shoulder.
The king and queen both stood up as they walked in.
Daisy took a deep breath, separating from Fitz and holding out the letter. "Grant wants me to come home as soon as is convenient."
The king's face grew downcast as the queen stepped over to pull Daisy into a hug.
No one spoke for a moment.
"Well if we only have a little time left, then we must make the most of it," the queen said finally, stepping back from Daisy. "Your birthday's in three weeks, and I won't hear of you leaving until afterward," she added sternly with a wink at Daisy. "We'll have a ball! It's been too long since we've thrown one, and it will be the perfect goodbye for our favorite princess."
Daisy offered the queen a watery smile at the suggestion. "That would be amazing. Thank you."
"Anything for you, darling," the queen replied before turning to her husband. "Phillip! There's much to do if we're to hold a ball in three weeks' time! And do write King Grant that Daisy will return home afterward."
The king smiled. "Of course." He moved to go to his study, but he stopped to take Daisy's hand and kiss her forehead.
Fitz and Daisy were left alone.
"I supposed I have to tell everyone else then," Daisy said, sadness back in her voice.
Fitz wrapped his arm around her again. "I can do it if you'd rather not have to say it. I don't mind."
Daisy smiled sadly up at him. "I'd like to tell Lincoln, of course, but if you could tell everyone else, I really would appreciate it."
"Of course, Daisy."
And so through the course of the morning, Daisy found Lincoln and told him the news as Fitz quietly informed the rest of their friends.
Everyone was sad to see Daisy go. She'd become such a part of the group that it was almost as if she had always been there. Lincoln had been preparing himself for this eventuality, so he wasn't shocked, though, of course, he was going to miss his bride-to-be more than anyone else. Jemma, however, had, like Fitz, been struck rather by surprise with the news. Though Fitz was still her best friend in the world, Daisy and Jemma had grown very close over the past few months, and Jemma wasn't at all ready to see their new friend go.
"We have to stay strong for Daisy though," Fitz added to everyone he talked to. "She's upset enough as it is without all of us making a fuss."
So the hugs Daisy received from their friends were (largely) tearless, and she was accosted by assurances that all of them would write to her as often as they could. Of course it would be a bit odd for Lincoln to write letters to the princess constantly, so it was quickly agreed that any correspondence from Lincoln would be hidden with letters from Jemma or Fitz or anyone else.
With the bad news doled out, everyone seemed to decide that the best course of action would be to focus instead on the ball. Daisy was genuinely very excited about the event, and her enthusiasm quickly spread throughout the group.
The ball mania rapidly grew beyond their friends as nobility from across the kingdom were invited to come for the occasion. The girls who had been largely absent from the palace in the past few years were to return home, and all knights and squires off on campaign were to come back.
With all the fervor and frenzy around him, Fitz quickly found that the only person in the palace who was less than thrilled about the impending event was himself.
Of course Fitz wasn't going to begrudge Daisy a birthday filled with food and dancing and saying goodbye to her friends, but Fitz had never been a huge fan of balls. He had always managed to get out of ones held in other kingdoms, but now that he was fifteen, he knew it was going to be harder and harder to say no, since princes were expected to marry princesses, even if Fitz was essentially not allowed to fall in love. But Fitz had even hated the two balls that his parents had held in the palace. His primary memories of the experience were of girls wanting to dance with him just because he was the prince, even if he was a bumbling thirteen-year-old who only wanted to talk about what he and Jemma were working on in the lab or in the infirmary. It was Fitz's worst nightmare, and he knew it was only going to be worse this time because he was older. Luckily he had Daisy as another royal to suffer through the constant stream of potential suitors with him.
But Fitz couldn't bring himself to complain to Daisy about it, knowing she would feel as though she was forcing him into this when all she deserved was a wonderful birthday celebration where she got to dance with Lincoln, which was what she really wanted anyway. So that left him to complain, as usual, to Jemma.
"Do we really have to go?" he asked his best friend one afternoon about a week before the ball. He and Jemma had been spending practically every free moment they had with Daisy, but that day they had elected to head back to the lab to give Daisy and Lincoln some time alone together.
Jemma laughed from across the table. "Oh, Fitz. You know you have to be there. You're the host!"
"Technically my parents are the hosts and Daisy's the guest of honor, so they really don't need me," Fitz corrected, with a self-satisfied grin that he knew Jemma hated.
Jemma rolled her eyes. "Semantics!"
Fitz laughed and then sighed again. "But it's just going to be all those girls trying to dance with me, the ones from the palace whose names I barely remember who don't care about science or anything. Can't we just stay in the lab?" He looked up at Jemma with the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster.
Jemma, apparently, was completely immune to his charms. "You're going, Fitz. End of discussion." She grinned but then ducked her head, her smile becoming almost shy. "I mean, it might even be fun."
Fitz looked up at his friend, wide-eyed. "Who are you, and what have you done with Jemma Simmons?"
Jemma laughed and crossed the lab to give Fitz a hug. "Come on, let's get back to work."
Fitz couldn't help but smile back.
The day of the ball finally arrived, and Fitz found himself being forced into fancy clothing and sent to greet guests with Daisy and his parents as carriages circled around to the front gate.
Daisy was radiant in a deep purple gown, the bodice glittering with jewels almost as bright as Daisy's smile.
Fitz was just glad that she was enjoying herself.
Guest after guest pulled up, young noblemen and women greeting Fitz and Daisy with great interest, though Daisy clearly found no one to rival Lincoln, and Fitz really couldn't care less about the girls climbing up the steps in their too-large and too-sparkly dresses batting their eyelashes and flashing him fake smiles.
Fitz was momentarily relieved when he and Daisy were finally released from greeting guests, but then he realized that the alternative was actually going to the ball itself.
Fitz and Daisy entered together and made a beeline for the buffet, or, more accurately, Fitz made a beeline for the buffet, and he pulled Daisy after him.
Fitz had just resolved to stay with the food the whole night when he looked over to see Daisy pouting at him.
"Dance with me, Fitz!" she whined, her eyes glinting at him. "It's my last night, and you're the very first friend I made when I got here, so won't you come dance with me?"
Fitz sighed dramatically, but he let Daisy take his hand and guide him onto the floor of the ballroom, which quickly emptied to give them room.
Daisy shot a look at the orchestra conductor who immediately began to play a lighthearted and fairly simplistic dance that Fitz knew well.
He sighed resignedly and offered a bow to Daisy who curtseyed in return. He stepped forward and took her hand, resting the other at her waist. Time to get this over with.
The pair danced alone together for a minute, stepping lightly around the floor, Fitz trying to ignore the eyes of the ballroom on he and Daisy. Daisy for her part was beaming, laughing to Fitz about how pained he looked dancing with her and flashing her widest smiles to Lincoln over Fitz's shoulder.
Other couples gradually joined them on the ballroom floor, and Fitz let himself relax slightly, grateful to no longer be the center of attention. Fitz glanced longingly over at the buffet, wanting to try some of the roast duck that was laid out at one end.
"See, it's not so bad is it, Fitz?" Daisy asked him, her tone jovial.
Fitz rolled his eyes. "I'd rather shoot for 'great' than 'not so bad,'" he countered. "Luckily Jemma dislikes these things as much as I do, so we'll be able to stick together." Fitz suddenly realized he hadn't seen his best friend anywhere. "Actually where is…" Fitz trailed off as he looked past Daisy and the other dancing couples, his eyes falling on a lone girl in a light blue dress which floated out around her making her look as though she were some sort of ethereal being who had drifted down from the heavens just to attend the ball. The hair piled up on top of her head shone almost golden in the candlelight, small diamond studded barrettes adding to the effect. But the most brilliant aspect of her appearance was her smile.
"Jemma," Fitz finished his sentence, his mouth slightly open as he stared at the woman across the room. It was Jemma, his best friend in the world… and somehow the most beautiful thing he had seen in his entire life.
The dance ended, but Fitz only noticed when he tripped over Daisy instead of bowing to her as he was supposed to.
Daisy looked at him curiously, and she said something, but Fitz didn't hear her, his eyes locked on Jemma.
Those possible feelings that he had had the other day, the ones he had attributed to Lincoln and Daisy and the curse, had returned, and this time they weren't just possible. He definitely felt something beyond friendship for Jemma Simmons, his best friend in the entire world. Oh, he was in trouble.
Fitz left Daisy, mumbling a quick apology, and wandered over to the buffet table, deciding to distract himself with food.
One single thought raced through his mind: Jemma. Everything about his life started to fall into place. Here was the reason that he couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Jemma. The reason that the thought of her being mad at him made him sick to his stomach. The reason he always wanted to be as physically close to her as possible. That automatic smile that appeared every time he saw his best friend wasn't just because she was his best friend – it was because he was falling in love with her, because he had fallen in love with her. The realization made Fitz stagger slightly, and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on the buffet table.
He glanced back across the ballroom, past Daisy and Lincoln, smiling at each other as they glided around the dance floor, any concern Daisy had for Fitz gone in the arms of her fiancé, to see Jemma grinning widely as she talked to Mack and Lady Mackenzie. Fitz was struck for a moment by how different this Jemma looked from the Jemma he had seen nearly everyday of his life, but as he stared at her, he realized that those differences weren't as dramatic as he had thought. The dress and the barrettes only were mere ornaments to the aspects of Jemma that Fitz had grown accustomed to in all these years. There was her bright smile that lit up any room she happened to be in; her shining eyes that showed everything she was thinking; her small frame, just smaller than his so her head fit perfectly against his shoulder on nights they stayed up too late with Lance and Bobbi.
"Having fun, mate?"
Lance's voice startled Fitz, and he looked up.
Lance grinned over at him. "I'm not the biggest fan of balls either, but you've picked the way to go: stay with the food, only good part."
Fitz nodded weakly, realizing, relieved, that Lance hadn't noticed him staring very obviously, he was sure, at Jemma.
"Daisy's having fun though," Lance continued, ignorant to the turmoil occurring in Fitz's mind as he passed the prince an empty plate and took one for himself.
Fitz allowed himself to smile slightly at that. "Yeah, she is."
"Bob doesn't like this kind of thing much either, you know," Lance added as he loaded his plate with roast duck, stuffing, and some candied fruit, though Fitz saw his friend's eyes wandering to the meat pies and venison further down the table.
Fitz frowned slightly at Lance's statement about Bobbi. "Really? I just assumed all ladies loved balls. Getting dressed up and all that. Of course Bobbi's more than just a regular lady."
"You bet she is," Lance replied with a glance across the room at where Bobbi stood with several other women that she really spent little time with in comparison to how often she was with their group of friends.
Fitz was struck by the smile on Lance's face as he stared over at Bobbi. They'd been married for nearly five years now, but Fitz could see that he was still as in love with her as ever. He wondered worriedly if he looked like Lance whenever he saw Jemma across a parlor or spent an afternoon with her in the lab. If he was even half as obvious as Lance was, then the entire palace had surely already discovered that Fitz was in love with his best friend.
Fitz and Lance ate their food and watched as Daisy traded out Lincoln for other noblemen and squires and knights, though anyone who happened to be following Daisy closely (as Fitz and Lance were) would have noticed that she was dancing with Lincoln more often than was probably appropriate, but quick glances around the hall told Fitz that no one else had noticed except for their friends who already knew.
Bobbi finally came over to Fitz with the command that dinner was over, and now he had to dance with someone. With those magic words from Bobbi, it was as though a floodgate had been opened, and every eligible young maiden in the land was queued up to dance with him.
Fitz stepped onto the floor to dance with Raina, who he had barely seen in the last four years and who he had barely spoken to even before that, and found that Jemma had made her way out as well, her partner being Lincoln. Fitz was instantly jealous of Lincoln for getting to dance with the woman he had just realized he was in love with, but he was even more jealous that both of them were dancing with a friend, rather than someone they had barely spoken five words to in their entire lives.
Raina batted her eyelashes and flirted very obviously, laughing at everything he said, whether or not it was funny, and trying to tease him about his work. Fitz tried to strike up a conversation, but it was clear Raina could not care less about science or anything he was interested in, and mundane chatter about the ball held no appeal to him as it apparently did to Raina.
After the dance, he bowed politely, and Callie appeared next to him as though she had sprung out of the ground. Just as boring, just as bad, Callie was followed by young noblewomen from all across the kingdom, but not one of them held Fitz's interest. The only object of his attentions was the beautiful girl in a pale blue dress dancing with Seth and Cal and Donnie and the other young squires and noblemen from around the kingdom. If Fitz was right, Jemma looked quite as uncomfortable as he did. From time to time, he was able to catch her eye and throw her a pained expression, which was always rewarded with a smile that made Fitz's heart beat just a little bit faster.
Finally, Bobbi decided it was her turn to cut in and save Fitz, while Lance swooped down to dance with Jemma.
"You look excited," Bobbi said cheerfully, her words and smile laced with sarcasm.
"Just break my legs or something, Bobbi," Fitz begged, half-serious. "I know you can do it. Anything so I don't have to dance with 'oh Fitz you spend so much time cooped up in that lab, you must be ever so intelligent.'"
Bobbi laughed at Fitz's horrific impression of Raina's voice as she twirled away from him.
"They can't be that bad, Fitz," Bobbi said as she rejoined him. "They all really do mean well."
"Who cares!" he replied, louder than he meant to in the middle of the ballroom floor. "Or, I don't particularly care if they mean well or not," he amended his statement at a much more appropriate volume. "None of them has said a single thing to me tonight that was at all interesting. I don't think there's a girl in the world who I'd really like to dance…" Fitz trailed off, his attention captured by the one girl he actually would like very, very much to dance with – Jemma, who was grinning widely at Hunter, her head thrown back in laughter at something he'd said. Fitz had never found her more beautiful.
"Ah," Bobbi's voice brought him back to reality. She was staring down at him, her eyebrows raised.
He'd been caught.
Fitz didn't explain himself, and Bobbi didn't ask for an explanation.
"I'm going to steal Lance back from Jemma," Bobbi said finally as the dance ended, "so why don't we switch?" She glanced down at Fitz pointedly.
Fitz sighed and nodded, following his friend over to finally speak to the person who had been dancing through his thoughts all evening.
"If you'll allow me the liberty of trading out your partner for mine, Jemma," Bobbi said with a wink to Lance.
Jemma smiled back at her friend and flashed a grin to Fitz, which he returned almost breathlessly.
Bobbi led Lance away, and Fitz took Jemma's hand. The feeling of her hand in his, one that Fitz had become so familiar with over the course of their friendship, her smoother fingers sliding over his calloused ones, was completely different now. This wasn't his best friend taking his hand for sympathy or to stop him in a corridor, this was him holding the hand of a girl that he had somehow, without knowing it, fallen completely in love with.
Fitz turned to face Jemma, and found her still smiling at him, though her eyes grew inquisitive at the sight of Fitz's expression, which he knew must have been something akin to pure terror. He bowed to her and then set his hand at her waist as the dance began.
For the first time in his life (except for that week when he found out about the curse), Fitz wasn't quite sure what to say to Jemma. How was he supposed to talk to his lifelong best friend that he just realized he's pretty thoroughly in love with? Fitz could invent devices for the infirmary and name all the stars in the sky, but he was really at a loss for how to handle this situation.
"Do you think Daisy realizes?" Jemma said after a moment.
Fitz jerked away from the fixed point behind Jemma's ear where he had been staring and found Jemma glancing over at their friend who was once again dancing with Lincoln.
"Realizes what?"
"That she's danced with Lincoln six times already, and she's only danced with anyone else once," Jemma replied, a laugh in her voice.
"Probably," Fitz shrugged as much as he could with Jemma's hand on his shoulder. "I think she's stopped caring. I wouldn't even be surprised if she kisses him right in the middle of everything." Fitz made the mistake of looking back at Jemma after he spoke, only to find her staring up at him, her face far too close to his own, her lips only a few enticing inches away.
But before Fitz could even think about anything, the dance required Jemma to pull away from him, and Fitz was relieved of that particular worry.
"So," Fitz began, trying to keep things as normal as possible, "how's Lance at dancing? Bobbi's very good."
Jemma smiled at Fitz's chosen topic. "He's surprisingly not bad, which I suppose shouldn't be too surprising seeing as he's such an excellent swordsman; it's all about the footwork."
Fitz laughed. "Tell that to some of these girls – go out and practice fencing so to improve your dancing."
Jemma joined in with his laughter. "I don't know how much help it would be. There's a good many boys here who spend all their time with swords, and they still dance dreadfully."
"The girls dance well enough, I suppose," Fitz mused, "but it's never any fun. I'd say you're a much better dancer than any of them, and you've never even been to finishing school! When did you learn how to do that?"
"Bobbi taught me," Jemma shrugged. "And I think it's really all about finding the right partner," she added, her cheeks turning faintly pink as she glanced away from him.
Fitz inhaled sharply. Was this not just him? Did Jemma feel the same way he did? Fitz's heart leapt in his chest for a moment, but then his father's words crashed into his head "as soon as you kiss the lips of your true love, all who know you will forget you and your true love will hate you more than anything." Even if this was meant to be, even if Jemma did love him back, it couldn't happen. He was cursed.
Fitz wanted to run away from all of it, but the memory of what had happened the last time he had shut Jemma out stopped him. This wasn't her fault; she didn't know.
"Yeah, Raina asked me about the lab, and I don't think she understood a word I said," Fitz said, knowing his words sounded forced.
"Seth did the same thing to me!" Jemma jumped at the change of subject.
And then they were back. Their conversation ebbed and flowed with their movements, both of them laughing and enjoying each other's company as much as they would have if they were by themselves in the lab rather than in the middle of a field of dancing couples.
They danced the next two together, but a glance from Bobbi told him that he was both being too obvious about where his affections laid and being a poor host to the noblewomen that were littered around the room hoping for a chance to dance with the prince.
"Back to the belly of the beast," Fitz said with an exaggerated groan, making Jemma laugh. "I bid thee farewell, young maiden," he added with a great deal of fanfare ending with a bow in front of his still laughing friend.
"It was a pleasure, Your Highness," Jemma replied in the same uppity tone with a curtsey to reply to his bow.
Fitz beamed at her. Best friend. Forbidden true love. It didn't matter; Jemma Simmons was Fitz's favorite person in the entire world.
So Jemma was swept off by Lincoln, a dazed grin still on his face from dancing with Daisy, and Fitz was returned to the ever-growing stream of noblewomen.
A few dances later, Fitz found himself paired back with Daisy, which afforded him a sigh of relief.
"You're enjoying yourself, right?" he asked her, his mood having distinctly improved since he partnered with Jemma.
Daisy grinned. "It's lovely. I'm having a wonderful time."
"Jemma was saying you might want to be a bit less obvious about dancing with Lincoln." Fitz smirked at his friend.
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Who cares? I'm leaving tomorrow anyway." Her smile faltered, and Fitz squeezed her hand comfortingly.
"Don't think about that now."
Daisy smiled and nodded in response, and their conversation turned to happier things.
As the dance ended, Fitz and Daisy found themselves next to Mack who was dancing with a smiling Jemma.
"May I borrow the princess?" Mack asked with a wink.
Fitz offered the knight Daisy's hand as Daisy beamed at them both.
"Jemma?" Fitz held out his hand to his best friend who took it, her face flushed but happy.
Fitz was reminded again how much he preferred dancing with Jemma to dancing with anyone else, even Daisy.
Duty again required him to release her, though he could tell she was just as reluctant as he was.
As Fitz danced with yet another maiden (Carly? Karen? Kara?), he lost track of Jemma, but after scanning the entire hall, he finally found her off to the side being cornered by Callie and Raina, neither of whom looked particularly friendly.
Fitz immediately grew concerned, and, as soon as the dance ended, he bowed to Kara (or whatever her name was) and hurried over to see what was happening to his best friend.
"So just back off him, Jemma," Callie's voice carried, her tone clearly very nasty. "You're not a real lady; there's no way the prince would ever marry you, even if he is rather odd."
Fitz would have laughed if he hadn't been so furious. For these girls to have the audacity to insult Jemma like that…
"It looks like you've deluded yourself into thinking he's in love with you," Raina was speaking now, "but a prince would never deign to be with someone as lowly as you. You need refinement and sophistication to capture the attention of a prince."
"Now excuse me-"
"What in the world do you two think you're doing?" Fitz interrupted Jemma's defense of herself, putting himself between Callie and Raina and Jemma. "You leave Jemma alone. She's more of a lady than either of you will ever be, and I must say that I greatly prefer her company to yours. You keep your 'refinement and sophistication,' and I'll take Jemma's ability to engage in a conversation with words longer than one syllable." He grabbed Jemma's hand quickly. "Would you do me the honor?"
Fitz finally looked into Jemma's eyes and saw a mix of hurt at what the other girls had said, surprise at Fitz's appearance, and relief and a smug satisfaction that matched the smile that appeared on her face as she took Fitz's hand.
"I'd be delighted."
Fitz led Jemma out of the crowd and back to the ballroom floor.
"I just can't believe they would say something like that!" Fitz raged. "For them to just assume they're better then you like that, it's horrible! It's not fair! It's-"
"Fitz, it's okay," Jemma pulled him to stop beside her. "It's not your fault. They're stupid. I was going to tell them off myself until you showed up."
Fitz turned to face her, allowing a smile to creep onto his face. "I just thought you might like some help."
"I did," Jemma replied smiling softly. "Thank you."
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Fitz sunk into the embrace, savoring the feeling of Jemma's back beneath his hands, his face pressed into her hair.
Jemma pulled back, but not far, stopping so her face was mere inches from Fitz's.
Fitz knew how easy it would be to just close that last distance, to take Jemma back into his arms, but he couldn't. Fitz pulled back himself, registering the disappointment that momentarily fell across Jemma's features. He led her back to the ballroom floor and resolved to dance with her the rest of the time, save a turn or two with Daisy.
"You look really lovely tonight," Fitz allowed himself. "Better than any of the rest of them."
Jemma blushed. "Thanks, Fitz. You look very nice yourself."
Their conversation wandered as usual as they danced, but they spent much of their time in comfortable silence with only small smiles thrown at each other when their eyes met. Fitz was lost in thought.
They could pretend everything was fine for as long as the ball lasted, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to have face the consequences of this realization. Fitz couldn't help but think that this was how exactly true love was supposed to be: two people finding each other on the dance floor, and suddenly everything makes sense, like the world was dull and boring and empty until this moment. Fitz could think of no better description for how he felt as he held Jemma in the middle of the ballroom. Of course it was Jemma, how brutally obvious, but how all the more difficult. He saw her constantly; they had all the same interests, the same friends; they were two halves of the same person. How was he supposed to avoid kissing her when he was faced with her almost every moment of every day? He had to resist, for his sake and for Jemma's, no matter how much he wanted to act on his feelings.
He glanced over at Jemma, receiving shy smile in return, and Fitz decided to, for tonight, forget about the curse and just let them have their moment. They deserved that much.