In retrospect it was foolish of Peggy to anger the mayor's son in such a personal fashion, however, she'd had no premonition of the death of Mr. Dalison.
And how that death would change her life forever.
—
The funeral is announced the day after his death. Attendance is required, but thankfully, due to the Dalison's kind nature and impact on the community, everyone desires to attend.
A few members from Acirema show up, mostly fair off family members. But the journey is far, at least two days, and no one from Eporue questions the smaller attendance.
Peggy's mother and father spend the day socializing and enjoying the village-wide holiday, while Micheal, Peggy's brother, and herself, speculate about who will be next. There's plenty of eligible candidates. They giggle and chortle like children as they tease each other and poke fun at the young-adults their own age.
Peggy sees Fred, the mayor's son, and he glares at her with a smug expression.
She narrows her eyes at him and turns away, making a snide comment about him. To Micheal who laughs out loud, turning heads. She glances back up to where Fred is to see his father standing besides him, watching them.
Something about the coldness in his eyes should have been a clue.
—-
Peggy shimmies out of the long black skirt, and sighs as her maid undoes her corset. She takes a deep breath and slips on her soft nightgown.
"Thank you, Angie." She says, "I love how that dress looks, but it is quite the nightmare to wear."
Angie laughs softly and nods, "you do cut the charming figure, ma'am."
"How many times have I told you to call me Peggy? We've known each other for a few years now."
Angie smiles, "I value my job, ma'am, and I know how seriously your parents take the details of our arrangement."
Peggy nods, understanding. Maids and Valets were an expected part of the higher class life. But they had to abide by very specific rules or be put out on the street.
"Have the maids been discussing the upcoming ceremony?"
Angie nods eagerly, "yes! We can't believe it happened so soon. I was sure I would be out of age eligibility by the time the next one came around."
Peggy sombers, "he did die rather young. 67 is not old."
"Indeed." Angie agrees, matching her somber mood, "I'm ever so sorry for the missus, she must be devastated."
"Hmm…" Peggy ponders, "or perhaps she's relieved, she's finally free of that ridiculous bond."
Angie doesn't respond and Peggy's eyebrow piques, "don't tell me you believe the nonsense."
Angie's cheeks color, "you caught me, I'm a romantic at heart! I've heard rumors from other maids that they actually did love each other…"
"Forced prolonged proximity is not love."
Angie nods, bidding her good night and slipping out the door.
—
The unification ceremony is announced to commence 2 weeks after the funeral and the town gears up for the upcoming event. The last one had happened 43 years ago, and most of the elders had been mere children, so there is a lot of ensuring things are done properly.
Peggy and Michael find themselves rolling their eyes at all the tizzy the village falls under.
When her mother requests her help with the flower arrangements, Peggy huffs and snaps at her. "It's a sham of a ceremony now! We've gotten on for generations, why must we maintain this horrid charade."
Peggy's mother stares at her, agape. "Margaret Elizabeth Carter, let me never hear you utter those words outside of this house. You want to be placed in the Dissension?"
"That's just a childhood scary story, mother."
"So says you."
She rolls her eyes again and leaves her mother to her florist errands.
—
The ceremony is in three days and she receives her summons.
Margaret Elizabeth Carter
Being between the ages of 18-25
You must appear at the Unification Ceremony at 9.m. at the City Square
Attendance is Mandatory
Eporue Council of Unification
She sighs. She's only 19, and had hoped to avoid having to participate in this inane ceremony, but she's not concerned. Her status should keep her from being chosen, and her father's position in the court of appeals will allow her to escape her contract if necessary.
—
The day arrives, and she dresses as she is supposed to, in a light cream colored blouse and a high waisted blue floor length skirt with red accents. Village loyalty is a demand during the ceremony and the colors of the flag of the village are to be represented in her dress.
She meets Micheal at the bottom of the stairs, and he grins at her. "Oh bride to be."
"Oh shut your damn mouth." Peggy snaps. He laughs and she laughs back. He looks charming in a deep red suit with blue threading and a crisp cream shirt. "It could be you, groom to be."
"Let's just hope we both escape this horrid affair unscathed." He whispers as their parents appear on the landing, "I already have my eye on a beautiful lady."
Peggy rolls her eyes and nudges him with her elbow. Michael has had his eye on a woman in the village for the last two years. She knew they met frequently and professed their undying love to each other. Although he hadn't dared tell their parents as they would have a heart attack at the thought of their son marrying so far below his status, but Peggy doesn't mind the difference. Lily is kind, funny, and smart as a whip, even if she tended on the overly romantic and dramatic side. Not to mention she was quite a beautiful girl. "Leave me out of it." Peggy hisses good-naturedly.
Michael just grins as they greet their parents with deference.
—-
Peggy tries to stay awake as she listens to the mayor drone on and on about the reason for the ceremony.
"—because of the continual horrible war between our two villages, the ceremony was enacted to further dissuade contention between the two. Since the first ceremony over 700 years ago, we have known an unprecedented era of peace as the unification of the two bloodlines has created a purpose to ensure the lifeblood and community of both villages."
Peggy rolls her eyes.
"As it is our village's turn to select the gender, we will hold our ceremony now, and Acirema will hold theirs in three days' time. The wedding will take place one week from today and their village is to host the wedded couple as our village hosted the Dalison's. We are excited to begin this tradition anew!"
She catches Michael's eyes and he mouths: good luck. She subtly makes an obscene gesture at him and he stifles a laugh.
—-
Mrs. Dalison, dressed in black but with a tri-colored ribbon pinned to her blouse, steps forward to the podium. She has red-rimmed eyes and she nods at the crowd.
"I remember," she says softly into the microphone, "standing in my village, all those years ago, probably feeling as scared and unsure as you all are." She gestures to the crowd of candidates. "But… I did my duty to my village and to yours, and I have lived a fulfilled life ensuring the unification of our two communities."
Peggy does not feel reassured at her words, and intends to rub the obvious lack of affection Mrs. Dalison must have had towards her husband into Angie's face this evening.
"So," the woman continues, "it is with great respect and understanding that I announce the next candidate. You are about to embark on an incredible and meaningful journey."
The mayor steps forward, taking center stage. "Please take this responsibility carefully. As per tradition, the candidate, male or female, will be expected to prepare for the wedding, and participate willingly. While I don't want to remind you of the disaster in our history almost 400 years ago during that particular union, it is extremely important that your responsibility to your village extend into your new marriage. Failure to do so, results in consequences that don't need to be spoken here."
Peggy stiffens as his eyes land on her for a brief moment. Something cold in them.
The mayor steps to the side where he hands Mrs. Dalison an envelope.
Mrs. Dalison steps back up to the podium and clears her throat. "During Council last night, this name was pulled and sealed in this envelope." She rips through the paper and pulls out a thick cream colored card. She reads the name to herself and then looks out into the crowd. "Margaret Elizabeth Carter."
She feels her blood freeze in place and her eyes glaze over as she tries to process the thought. Then, in a flash her eyes pin to Fred who stands off the stage but down in the front. His smug smile tells her everything she needs to know.
She hears her name called again and she feels a gentle hand on her back. She looks up to see someone looking at her with pity, but she doesn't need pity. She'll not allow this to happen.
She strides forward and accepts the card. "I'll be appealing this decision." She snaps off the podium. The crowd doesn't know how to react. The last appeal had been over two centuries ago and no one remembers the details.
"That's your choice." Mrs. Dalison says softly, as the Mayor steps forward.
"Appeals must be made immediately and by a parent or a guardian. Please report to the Court of Appeals as the results of that will be sent along to Acirema. Peggy glares at him and stomps off the stage. She finds her parents as the crowd listens to the mayor's finishing remarks.
They look pale and draw and she informs them that she must go to the Court of Appeals immediately. They nod and they make their way to the grand brick building.
—
"You're lying!" Peggy snaps, stabbing a hand at the judge, "this is some elaborate ploy since I refused the mayor's son's affections!"
The judge raises an eyebrow at her words and she hears her mother gasp, "Margaret! You what?"
"He's horrid, mum." Peggy sighs, "I'll not marry a man that sees me as lesser than him."
"But—" her mother starts, "what a match tha would make—"
"Mother!" Peggy groans, "focus. I can't marry Fred if I'm stuck in the backwaters of Acirema can I?"
Her mod nods numbly and she looks at her father. "Papa, tell me this is incorrect."
Her father stares down at the yellowed paper and the black flowing script. He stays silent and she feels dread coil in her stomach.
"I'll do it." She hears Michael say, pain in his voice. "I'll take her place."
She feels a thrill of relief, followed by an internal struggle. "No." She scowls. "There has to be another way. This can't be our only option of appeal."
The judge sighs and looks at her with meaning. "My dear child, the point of the appeal was not to give the candidate a chance to be released from their duty, but the ability of a parent to ensure the well-being of their child. This appeal is meant for candidates who are not mentally or physically well. Who are violent or not fully functioning." He looks at her with a heavy and somber expression. "The law of the appeal clearly states that a candidate may be released from their contract if they meet those standards. And by doing so, the next of eligible kin shall take their place, ergo, your brother."
"But that's not fair!"
The man rubs his eyes behind his spectacles. "My dear girl, you are in a long line of men and women who were chosen for this responsibility. It isn't meant to be fair. It is meant to be at random. You can claim to be violent and unwell, and that will be accepted by the Court, but in doing so, you're not erasing that responsibility, you are passing it on to someone else. If we allowed candidates to shirk this responsibility so easily, by passing the contract onto another candidate, then everyone would choose that path. And where does the line end? Does everyone get one appeal? Does the entire pool get to appeal until it circles back to you? Do we begin again? You see what I am implying, do you not? By placing the responsibility that you're deciding not to accept onto another member of your family, you are forced to understand the gravitas of your choice. You must either weather this burden, or place the burden on your sibling's shoulders. It is your choice. Make it wisely."
"I'll do it, Peg. It's okay." She swallows thickly, he's genuinely offering, but.. she can't allow that. As much as she hates this situation, she would never allow Michael to suffer for her own mistake of taunting the mayor's son.
"And what of my belief that the ceremony was rigged? That my name was placed there because of the mayor's distaste for me?"
The judge sits back and rubs his forefingers against the pads of his thumbs, "unsettling my dear, that's what I would say, however, without solid proof, you would be hard-pressed to win that case, and once again—" he looks at her, tipping his chin down. "Someone will be chosen. Someone will have to take on this responsibility. Either it's you, or youre deciding that you're more important, your life is worth more than the unification of our villages. That you don't deserve to have this responsibility because of your birth or your beliefs or for whatever reason, but you believe someone else does."
His meaning is clear. Her brother or another stranger doesn't make a difference. It will be Peggy shirking the responsibility onto someone else.
And as much as she hates it… That's not who she is.
So she sits down in the leather puffed chair heavily and stares at the contract in front of her. She raises a slightly trembling hand and picks up the ceremonial quill. She signs her name neatly under her section and ignores the cries of her mother in the background.
—
He hears a voice before he sees it. "It's a girl!" He perks up from his desk and waits as his best friend slams through the door of their tiny house and slides to a stop. "It's a girl." Bucky repeats in a huff.
Steve sinks back against his chair and looks at Bucky, "so that means—-"
"All us single fella's will be in the pool. This can't be happening."
"Don't worry, Buck." He says, with confidence he doesn't feel, "there's a lot of us. It's bound to be someone else."
Bucky takes several deep breaths and pulls out a small box. "I'd just bought this. I can't…"
Steve stands suddenly, "you what!" He snatches the box out of Bucky's hands and gently flips the top open. A small silver band with a small yet beautiful diamond, flanked on each side by two tiny rubies greets his eyes. Steve's mouth gapes open and he stares at his best friend in shock, "Natasha?"
Bucky snatches the box back from him, "of course!" He snarls, shoving it back into his pocket, and if I'd gotten it sooner—"
"Oh, Buck. I'm sorry." Guilt blooms, he'd kept Bucky from working when they were teens because he'd been so sick and needed care. That wasn't an issue now, but… those two years had cost Bucky a lot of money. "I'm so sorry! I—"
"Steve." Bucky admonishes, "it's not your fault, we couldn't have known. And…" he sighs, "I just wish I'd gotten to it even one month sooner…"
Steve nods numbly. Once a Unification Ceremony is announced, a ban is put on all engagements and weddings to dissuade all the eligible candidates from getting engaged to take their names off the list and then breaking off the engagement once the ceremony is over. So now Bucky and Natasha have to wait to get engaged until after the ceremony. Steve hopes against hope that it won't be Bucky's name drawn from that envelope.
—-
Steve puts on his suit and grimaces at the tightness. He's still growing by the day and he can't afford new clothes. Neither can his ma, and he wouldn't dream of burdening her with that fact. He unbuttons the buttons around his wrist and hopes that his suit jacket will cover that fact.
"Bucky?" He calls through his open door. His friend's footsteps sound and his head pokes around the wooden doorframe, "I—" He feels his cheeks flush, "how tight are these pants?"
Bucky doesn't laugh, which Steve is grateful about, as he studies him. "I'm not going to lie to you. They're definitely on the tighter side. Steve groans and swipes a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize what a hassle being so big is."
Bucky laughs, "it's not usually a hassle. You're just catching up really late." Steve glares at him but he chuckles. "Hey, you chose this."
"I know, but—"
"I get it, we all get it, but this is part of being normal sized. Wearing clothes that weren't meant for children." Steve chucks a hairbrush at his friend, who dodges it.
"I didn't wear children's clothes, Buck."
"Coulda fooled me. You were like a pint sized grumpy old man. Now you're almost as tall as me." Steve stills and Bucky notices, "what?"
"I think I grew again."
"Again? Geez! You measure?"
"Yeah, I sent a note to Erskine too, and my ma."
Bucky nods. "Well, then I guess that's all we can do."
Steve swallows and looks at himself in the tiny fuzzy mirror that hangs in his room. "I guess."
—
He tries not to shift and adjust against his clothing as they walk to the City Square. Bucky, who looks quite handsome in his own suit, nudges Steve's arm as Natasha comes into view.
She approaches and Bucky gives her a deep kiss that has Steve blushing and turning away.
"Hello, Steve." Natasha says a bit breathlessly as they part.
"Hi, Tasha." He says, adjusting his tie.
"You're taller again."
He grimaces, "I know."
"He's starting to run into stuff." Bucky says with glee as they continue their walk. Steve groans and Natasha quirks up an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, now that his height is changing so rapidly, and his arms and legs are lengthening, he's running into chairs and dressers and the door frame."
"Buck." Steve groans.
"What! I'm just filling her in."
"Well don't, I'm like a newborn foal, it's embarrassing."
Natasha reaches out and squeezes his arm, "don't, it's adorab—" she pauses, "wow."
Steve's eyes find hers, "what?" He feels her fingers squeeze his arm again.
"You're arm… It's…"
"Okay." Bucky says with a frown, "no need to describe in detail his ever growing muscle." Steve blushes but Natasha laughs.
"I'm just saying." She says crisply.
—-
Bucky bids Natasha farewell with another blush inducing kiss as they head off to the candidate sector. "Don't you go getting picked." She says softly but with meaning.
"I won't." He says firmly, eyes gazing deeply into hers. Steve feels his heart stutter. He's never had the kind of love they seem to have for each other. No girls had really ever even looked his way. He sighs and ignores the grief at the thought and follows Bucky as they stand at attention.
—-
The mayor speaks for a while before getting down to business.
"Last Unification Ceremony, we selected first. Flora Sammons" he gestures to the woman standing behind him, "was selected and she became Mrs. Flora Dalison. They lived for 43 years in Eporue and she has chosen to remain in her house there. But is here to finish her final responsibility as ½ of the unifiers. Our village has the honor of housing the new couple. The house is already set aside and cleaned. The fund is set aside and ready to be doled out annually, and we can't wait to see the new beginning of the lovely couple as they unite our villages once again in a fresh new generation. Eporue held their ceremony three days ago. The candidate chose to appeal the decision. However in the end, the same candidate signed her name on the contract and is ready to accept the responsibility. Her name is Margaret Elizabeth Carter. As such, we will be selecting from the pool of eligible males and the wedding will take place in 4 days at the Center Crossroads." The mayor nods and Mrs. Dalison steps forward. She takes the envelope from the mayor and opens it gently.
"As I told the people of Eporue, I remember standing exactly where you are right now, feeling as scared and unsure as you all are. But… I did my duty to my village and to yours, and I have lived a fulfilled life ensuring the unification of our two communities. So," the woman continues, "it is with great respect and understanding that I announce the next candidate. You are about to embark on an incredible and meaningful journey. During Council last night, this name was pulled and sealed in this envelope." She gently rips the envelope open and her eyes scan the card before looking up and saying in a clear crisp voice,
"Steven Grant Rogers."
—
Chapter 2
Steve's mind goes blank as a gasp goes through the crowd. "Oh no's" and "not him" and "poor boy's" reach his ears but he still can't process what just happened.
He'd been so focusing on hoping Bucky didn't get chosen he hadn't spared a thought for himself.
He looks to his left where Bucky stands, gaped mouthed and eyes wide. "No." He sees his friend whisper.
But his name is being called again and he blindly walks forward, steps onto the stage and then is being shuffled back off after accepting the card.
His ma, who he hadn't had time to see before the ceremony, finds him afterward. Her eyes are pinched tight and her face attempting to be impassive.
"Steve." She says softly, "are you okay?"
"I…" he starts and then his voice fails him.
His ma hugs him tightly and he finds his arms winding around her. "I don't know what the future holds for you…" she says softly, "but I know you'll do the best that you can with it."
He nods numbly and he pulls away, "I'm sorry."
"About what, Steve?"
"All the changes."
"Neither have been your choice, Steve."
"I know, but…" he grimaces, "you always said trouble followed me and… more and more I'm inclined to agree with you."
She frowns, "Steve, no matter what we have gone through, and even including all the trouble, you have been the greatest joy of my life. I wouldn't change a thing."
"Not a thing?"
She smiles, "maybe your inability to stay out of fights, but no… not even that, my brace boy."
He smiles weakly and she tugs on his hand.
Bucky finds him later, Natasha in tow, at his ma's house.
There's an awkward silence and Steve decides to try to help, "don't worry Bucky, I'm still glad you didn't get picked."
Bucky says into a chair next to him and groans, "hell, Steve, this is…" he looks at Natasha who gently places her hands on his shoulders.
"I remember that conversation we had, when we were kids."
Steve's eyebrows furrow, "what conversation?"
"The one where I told you I liked James… and I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay if I told him that."
Bucky looks up at her in surprise, "you what?"
She looks down at Bucky and smiles, "he was your best friend, practically brother, I— I didn't want to come between you guys."
Steve suddenly knows where this conversation and his shoulders tense under her touch.
"You know what Steve told me?"
While Bucky asks, "what?" Steve says, "Tasha, don't."
She looks at him in concern and almost pity. And he shakes his head. She sighs and her lips purse.
"What!?" Bucky asks, looking between the two, "what did he say?"
She glances at Bucky and smiles, "when I asked if he was okay with me telling you my feelings, Steve smiled at me and told me that nothing would make him happier than seeing you happy." Steve frowns at her, but when she doesn't continue he relaxes.
Bucky's face grows sad, "you really said that Steve?"
Steve laughs, glad Natasha didn't say the rest of what he'd said that night, "yeah, Buck. You being happy is the best."
"Well…" Bucky says grimly, "maybe… maybe you'll get to be happy with this… Margaret Carter."
Steve grimaces and Natasha laughs, "Margaret is quite the stuffy name. I bet she's from a rich family."
Steve groans, "I hope not."
—
The night before the wedding ceremony, Peggy travels with her family to the Center Crossroads.
A site dedicated where the last battle between the villages took place. It's almost the exact middle distance between the villages. A large venue was built, with thousands of seats and a huge overhanging arch that would be decorated with local flowers and flora from both villages for the ceremony. Behind the arch was a large memorial. A huge pillar with all the names of the men and women who died in the original war, etched in the stone and painted in red.
When Mr. Dalison had died, workers from both villages were sent immediately to go prepare the area for the wedding. A few buildings that are cleaned and upkept every six months (once a year for each village) are close to the area and house the bride and groom's families.
Peggy walks into the simple but elegant house and sighs. Angie sets her bags down in her room and she walks into the bathroom. She splashes water on her face and looks into the small mirror. She's getting married tomorrow. To some probably simpleton named Steven Rogers.
She's allowed to know his name, and she knows he knows hers.
She watches as Angie brings in her wedding dress. It's one that has been cleaned and modified to fit each bride. She'd been measured after signing the contract. And tomorrow… someone would come to do her hair and makeup. Prepare her for this farce of a ceremony where she'll be shackled to some stranger for the rest of her miserable life.
—
Steve stands in front of the window of the house he'd been led to. He's glad to have a suit that fits since they measured him just a few days ago.
Bucky stands behind him, buttoning his shirt and being oddly silent.
His ma walks in and gasps. "Look at you two! So handsome!" They both wave self deprecatingly and she brushes the shoulders of Steve's suit. "I can't believe this."
They don't respond. Both of them in disbelief themselves.
A bell rolls and Natasha appears at the door, a frown on her face and a ring on her finger, "it's time."
—-
Peggy's hand rests tightly against her stomach. "I can't do this." She rasps.
Angie grabs her shoulders and steadies her, "do you want me to go get your father?"
He's waiting downstairs to escort her to her wedding.
"No." Peggy manages, "no. I… I don't have a choice… do I?"
Angie looks at her, "no…" a sly grin appears on her face, "but— you could always make him miserable. I've heard… once long ago, in one of the first marriages, that the married partners became so contentious, that the villages decided their union was doing more harm than good. They were allowed to separate and new candidates were chosen."
Peggy's eyes are wide as the story, "is that a true story?"
Angie nods, "I believe so, ma'am. The maids tell stories and pass them down. It's not widely known because obviously the two councils don't want that to be common knowledge."
"And you haven't told me til now?"
Angie frowns, "if I'd told you before, I was worried you would tell your brother your plan, or worse your parents. If anyone finds out I told you that, I will be in incredible trouble."
Peggy places a hand on Angie's shoulder. "I'll never say a word. But… thank you for telling me. I promise you, I'll be home soon." She says with a grin.
Angie smiles in return. "I hope so."
—
Steve stands anxiously at the front. The officiant, Chester Phillips, stands like a stone pillar. Steve's eyes find Bucky in the crowd and the man gives him an encouraging smile.
Steve can't find it in himself to smile back.
The music starts and he feels his chest constrict.
And suddenly he sees her.
—-
She steps down the stairs and her father smiles with misty eyes.
"Papa if you cry, I'll have to stomp back up these stairs."
He chuckles at her and offers her his arm.
She accepts and they walk out the door.
The pathway is long but lined with flower petals and she takes deep breath after deep breath to calm her nerves.
She keeps her eyes straight ahead until she reaches the place where the path curves. Once they round the bend, she will be walking down the aisle. "I'm not ready for this." She whispers. She rarely shares her feelings, and usually only to Michale or Angie, but in this moment, she feels like a terrified little girl, holding onto her father's arm, too afraid to let go.
"We're not ready for you to grow up and leave us either." He whispers back as they take the first step around the curve, "but we will come visit often, and it will all work out how it's supposed to be."
Her eyes turn to his in surprise, "how do you know?"
He smiles at her, "because you're our daughter. You make things happen by the sheer force of your stubborn will. If you want to be happy then you will. Wherever you set your heart on, I've seen it happen."
His words make her throat tighten and she nods. He leads her and suddenly she's walking down the aisle. Music filling the air from the string quartet she can't see but had been told would be there.
She keeps her eyes on the ground, unwilling to look up and see her further husband, but halfway down, the absolutely electric feeling of someone watching her (besides the thousands in the crowds) has her eyes rising to the front.
Sharp and electric blue eyes meet hers and she feels stunned at the intensity of their gaze upon her. She can't even take in his other features as his eyes capture hers so completely.
She feels her father pull her to a stop and she blinks back to reality. As she hears her father announce that "her mother and I" give her away, she watches as the man steps down and offers his arm. She almost accepts it, but pulls her hand back and walks up to the place she's supposed to stand herself.
She hears the crowd react to her motion, but she ignores the negative chittering. She must plant the seeds of her distaste for this early if she has any hope fo escaping this marriage.
The judges words of her shirking her responsibility rings in her head, but she shoves them away. She will do this, and suffer it for a while, but then, no more. She wants her freedom. She wants her own life.
The man, her soon to be husband, Steve, looks a bit unsure about her rebuff but says nothing as he comes to stand across from her.
She studies him now. He's shorter than her, and she plans to use that against him later. His hair is a gorgeous blonde color styled and swept neatly to the side. His skin has a healthy color to it with a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His cheekbones are sharp and accentuate his eyes and his jaw is strong and lined sharply.
She allows herself the thought that she is lucky to receive an incredibly handsome partner. Peggy would be lying if she didn't admit she was slightly on the vain side.
His hands suddenly extend, palm up, offering them to her. She blinks up at him in confusion and then to the officiant.
Who stares at her in a amused impatience. When she doesn't move, he repeats the words he must have said that she didn't hear in all her ruminations.
"Please join hands."
Peggy rolls her eyes and gently places her palms on top of his.
Something of an electric charge at his touch makes her eyes find his and he looks at her intensely but with no reaction. His hands are soft and warm. And she thinks maybe he doesn't do hard labor, maybe he is wealthy like herself.
The officiant continues to speak but Peggy doesn't listen, studying her partner, trying to locate chinks in the man's facade, every man she has found has some ego or pride or self-centered something that can be exploited against them. She looks at his shorter stature and thinks he must be defensive about it. While he seems handsome, he also seems slightly nervous around her, and she smiles inwardly. A man who is nervous around women is incredibly easy to undermine his confidence. She starts keeping track of things, making a list of things to slowly erode this farce of a marriage. She hopes it will be this man (she doesn't even want to acknowledge his name) that will plead for a separation. If she does her job correctly, then it will be sooner rather than later.
After the unity ceremony, where they must tie their wrists together with a ribbon and then plant a tree in the Garden of Unity, which Peggy admits houses some beautiful and majestic trees. They return to the main venue. While everyone gets reseated, she studies the crowd of villagers from Acirema.
They seem rather plain compared to her crowd, but they all seem clean and well-kept which is good. But she begins to notice the looks on their faces. While everyone on her side seems either excited, bored, or indifferent to the ceremony, almost all of the faces of the other village seem anxious and uncertain. She looks at the front row where a beautiful blonde woman sits in the main seat. She could be no one else's mother than the man in front of her judging on features alone. Peggy tries not to linger but their eyes meet and the woman smiles at her, but her eyes show an intense gaze that Peggy finds herself locked into. The woman's eyes narrow briefly before releasing her hold, and Peggy rips her eyes back to her own parents, who stare up with mostly faces of acceptance.
No father. She only blinks back to the seat next to the woman where a handsome dark haired man sits. Way too young to be a father.
So he doesn't have a father. Another aspect to add to her list.
Her eyes find the red-head next to the young man and the look on her face can only be described as threatening. Peggy blinks in surprise at the absolute vehemence on her face and thinks her soon to be husband must have been in love with her before being chosen for this.
Peggy smirks at the red-head and turns back to her husband, adding the fact to her list of things to make her new spouse miserable with.
—
Steve stares in rapture as the most beautiful woman he's ever seen walks down the aisle towards him. Creamy skin, red lips, thick brown curls. His hands ache to capture her likeness onto a canvas immediately. He knows he's staring but he can't help it.
Soon, her deep brown eyes find his and something in his shudders at the intensity of her gaze as she stares back at him.
He swallows thickly as she approaches and barely remembers to offer his arm as Mr Phillips asks who gives the bride away.
But she rejects his arm. He stands across from her, slightly confused, but it hits him that neither one of them wanted this marriage, she was not a willing bride and he shouldn't expect her to be. He's suddenly grateful for the few inches he had grown over the last year and a half. He wasn't quite as tall as her, but he was significantly taller than he had been.
"Please join hands."
Steve offers his, and his soon to be bride, Margaret, blinks at him in confusion.
"Please join hands."
She reaches her hands out and gently places soft and cool hands into his. Her fingernails are painted a beautiful lavender color that he's seen in the flower fields and he again aches to capture it on paper.
After the ceremony is winding down, he feels his heart begin to race. He's never kissed anyone before, and suddenly he'll have to kiss a stranger with an audience of thousands.
—
She can sense his nerves as the dreaded kiss approaches.
She can't decide if it's endearing to annoying but she leans towards annoying because she's resolved to only focus on the negative until she can escape this situation.
"You may now kiss the bride." The officiant says, and she rolls her eyes. He just see it because he doesn't move forward to kiss her.
The crowd goes silent and she stares at her almost-husband. "Well," she huffs, "are you going to kiss me? Or do you not know how?"
Gasps run through the crowd, especially on the Acirema side and she glances out at shocked and— she blinks in surprise, angry faces. She turns back to the man in front of her who has red cheeks and a tightened jaw.
And uncertainty blooms in Peggy's chest, but she shoves it away. She glares at the officiant. "Can I?"
He looks amused but he nods, and before she talk herself out of it, she reaches out, pulls him forward and kisses him. She only keeps contact for half a second before shoving back and wiping at her mouth.
"There." She huffs, ignoring the absolutely mortified expression on her now husband's face.
"I now present to you, Steven and Margaret Rogers!"
"I'm keeping my name." She hisses at the man whose hand she's made to hold as they walk down the aisle.
The man says nothing.
—-
Steve wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. He'd frozen at her barb about not knowing how to kiss, and she'd grown impatient and kissed him before he could regain his line of thought.
He can feel the awkward tension as they walk down the aisle and out to the reception area.
He can't shrink if a single thing to say, and she doesn't speak other than huffing and sighing in what he can tell is annoyance.
The crowd and music follow them and soon the reception sweeps them away.
—
"That bitch!" Natasha snarls, as she and Bucky walk out together towards the reception.
"No arguments there." Bucky says with a scowl. He looks at Mrs. Rogers. "You okay?"
She just purses her lips and doesn't say anything.
Natasha doesn't relent, "I watched her up there. She thinks she's better than us, better than Steve. She smirked at me and I could tell she was enjoying how nervous he was. If she so much as—"
"Natasha." Mrs. Rogers says brittly, "please stop."
They walk in silence to their assigned spots as his designated family members.
—
The reception is painfully long in her opinion. She is given brief, name only introductions to people of importance in his village such as the mayor and the council and his family. She plans to forget them all immediately.
Her husband receives the same introductions but she watches in annoyance as he shakes everyone's hand and repeats their names back to them to ensure he's heard it correctly.
"Wonderful." She murmurs sarcastically, "a boot licker."
She says it quietly, but he turns towards her with a surprised and hurt look on his face. She stares at him impassively.
—-
Steve feels exhausted at the end of the reception. He'd hardly had time to eat with all the meeting and greeting that had been expected of him. He feels an ever growing sense of dread at his new wife's behavior. But he vows to stay calm and cool-headed because she doesn't want this marriage any more than he does and everyone deals with things differently.
Her way of dealing with things is to be incredibly rude. He bites his tongue as she acts clearly disinterested in his family and village.
He shakes her brother's hand and the man doesn't let go. When Steve looks up in question, he looks at Steve seriously.
"I know you didn't have a choice in this either, and therefore I always try to be fair and understanding. But that's my little sister. I expect you to take care of her, even though you didn't plan too, even though you may not want to. She can take care of herself, but…" his serious expression softens, "she's stubborn as a mule and won't listen to directions. So… just… please, for ma, take care of her when she lets you?"
Steve is surprised at the genuine affection and honest plea. So he does what he always does when someone asks something from him. He says yes.
"I will." He responds earnestly. "In whatever way I can, I will."
And the man must believe him because he shakes his head and says, "thank you."
—-
Peggy can't hear what Michael says to her husband but she assumes it's the "'hurt her and I'll kill you' speech, which she appreciates.
—-
All too soon she's finding herself being packed up and sent on her way. She hugs her family goodbye a thousand times and gets into the carriage. Her suitcases and his one suitcase are loaded up top and the driver snaps the reigns, lurching them forward.
—-
Steve can't think of a single thing to say as they sit silently in the carriage. He has a dreadful suspicion that even if he was to speak, she would ignore him anyways.
So he doesn't.
—-
They arrive at the location they're expected to remain at for the next 10 days as their allotted honeymoon time.
The driver helps them unpack, shoes them around the house, how everything functions, informs them that groceries will be selected every 3 days, along with clean linens and towels. A maid will come clean every 4 days and a maintenance man is available by message through any of those.
Steve listens carefully, taking note to ensure he's properly prepared.
Margaret seems woefully uninterested and begins unpacking her things instead of listening.
After the driver asks if he has any questions, Steve watches as he drives away, a feeling of anxiety growing. There's nothing around here for miles and miles. And he's now trapped here for 10 days.
He thinks it will be a quiet 10 days.
—-
She waits until he's just entered the door when she pins him with her gaze and says the first thing she'd planned to say once they were alone. "I'm not sleeping with you. Now or ever."
She watches as surprise at her outburst blooms across his face, but instead of anger or disappointment, which she expects, calm and understanding crosses his features.
"I understand. That's not a problem at all."
She stands there, a bit in shock and he looks at her, apparently expecting something else. So she continues. "And I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you. You're short enough, you can sleep on the couch. Or the floor for all I care."
This time she watches as he winces at her comment and she internally grins, found the weak spot.
"That's fine." He says quietly, "not a problem."
He turns and disappears into the kitchen and she's left standing there, unsure if she won that battle or not.
—
Steve tries to internally process what just happened.
He sets about to make coffee and he does it on autopilot. Having made thousands of ups in his lifetime.
The kettle boils and he pours two cups.
He puts a little bit of cream, a good amount of sugar into his, before taking the cup and stepping back into the living room. Margaret is not there so he decides to walk around outside and explore his prison for the next 10 days.
—-
Peggy walks out of the bedroom and is surprised to find that her husband is no longer in the house. She walks into the kitchen and sees the cup there with cream and sugar set out.
The cup is still warm so he can't have been gone long. Coffee.
She doesn't usually drink coffee, disliking it's flavor and opting for tea instead. Something she intends to inform him of.
—-
Steve walks back into the house and takes off his coat. He's glad that his health is much improved. Winters usually meant miserable months cooped up inside under every blanket they could scrounge up.
Last winter had been his first where he hadn't had to stay hidden like a hibernating animal. It had been such a sense of freedom.
He smells the coffee he'd made earlier as he steps closer to the kitchen and smiles. Coffee held a special place in his heart. He notices the cup is still there, untouched and cold. He sighs. That was probably his fault for not alerting her it was there.
He walks to the bedroom and knocks on the door.
"What do you want?"
"I made coffee, and I set out a cup for you, I apologize because I didn't tell you it was there and now it's cold. Would you like a cup now?"
Her response is immediate and it makes his heart clench.
"No. I don't want coffee. It's a poor man's substitute for tea, so I'd apprecIate if you kept that foul drink out of my house."
There's a silence as Steve tries to decide how to respond. But he can't think of anything, so he doesn't.
—
He feels the pangs of hunger and stares forlornly at the icebox and cabinets. Does he make supper just for himself? He takes a deep breath and walks back to the bedroom she has yet to leave. Steve's never been a coward and he doesn't plan on starting now. If she says she doesn't want food then that's fine, but he can't not offer when he's planning on cooking for himself.
"Margaret? I'm going to make some supper. Would you like me to make you some as well? Or would you prefer to make it on your own?"
There's no response for a second but then a voice says, "I'll cook on my own."
"Okay."
He shrugs his shoulders and heads towards the kitchen.
He peels a potato, steams some broccoli, toasts bread over the stove, and makes a gravy his ma had taught him. He didn't used to eat much, but in the last almost 2 years his appetite has increased significantly. He dishes up his plate, cleaning up before eating. He appreciates the amount of groceries in the kitchen. He and his ma had usually gone hungry most days, and he and Bucky hadn't been doing too much better. If there was something positive about this predicament he's in, it's that he'll probably always have money for food.
—
She passes by him at the table and doesn't glance his way. He doesn't look up at her either.
She tries to ignore how good his food smells. She's never cooked a day in her life, but she's smart and she can figure it out. She expects a mess in the kitchen, and plans to comment on it, only to find a spotless kitchen.
Damn.
She opens the cabinets and tries to decide what she can make. She's watched Angie make griddle cakes before so she decides to try that. It's not breakfast time but she doesn't care.
She mixes the ingredients she thinks she remembers going into the bowl. She barely manages to get the stove lit, singing her fingertips in the process.
The pan is hot and she drops a slab of butter on it. It immediately starts to brown and smoke and she curses, waving a towel to try to clear the air. She dumps a large dollop of batter into the pan and waits a few minutes before flipping. When she manages to turn it over, she curses again at its blackened state. She dumps it into the garbage and tries again, burning that one as well.
Finally she turns the stove off and lets the residual heat cook the last of the meager amount of batter she'd made.
She chews grumpily on a half-cooked, burnt tasting, rubbery griddle cake.
—-
Steve hears a litany of curses that makes his ears tinge pink. But as he smells the smoke and the obvious odor of burning batter, he can't help the smug grin that appears on his face.
—-