In two short hours, she would take her formal, practical alchemy exam, and frankly, she was terrified. She could've studied back home in the castle. She could've taken the easy way and declared herself a court alchemist on her own orders, with none of the training or expertise to back her claims. Yet that wouldn't be fair to her or those she wished to help.
So close to a year ago, she had ventured to the nearby Salvatore Kingdom, with her parents' blessings, where she trained under the tutelage of Dad's old friend Sheila Bennett.
(“If you're going to learn alchemy,” Mom had said as she waved Jesse off with a hug and kiss, “You might as well learn from the best.”)
Unlike her home, which had prided itself on technology and innovation, the Salvatore Kingdom and its capital city Mystic Falls was arrested in time. The claustrophobic, cobblestone streets whispered of times long gone, as did tall, sturdy trees and blooming flowers on the side of the road. Said roads were barely wide enough to fit two automobiles, one on each side - and no one in Mystic Falls had rushed from place to place with any sense of urgency.
From the moment she stepped across the threshold and into her new home, she realized she would have to slow down. Smell the roses on every corner, maybe count between every breath.
This had posed a significant problem, considering how her powers had drawn on time, and people's perceptions of said time. Jesse fidgeted during every lesson; drew her sword too fast; kept missing equations by a hair; and most importantly, embarrassed herself during every lesson with her only classmate. Sure, Stefan Branson - Dr. Bennett's only pupil prior to Jesse's entrance - had been cute, but more pressingly, he knew nothing of her royal status.
Jesse had insisted on it, as her lone condition for studying elsewhere: she would be Jesse Chambers, daughter of a court herbalist, rather than the crown princess and the lone heir to her family's throne. Stefan Branson had hailed from similar origins; why embarrass him and potentially create a gulf between them, just because of her ambitions?
"Good thing I'm taking the exam alone." As it was 5 AM, and Dr. Bennett was nowhere near awake, she had opted to sit outside the atelier, on a bench overlooking the garden. Jesse drew in a breath, counting on the thirds of her fingers, "One... two..."
"Three," a voice called beside her.
Jesse didn't have to look beside her to know who had interrupted her shaky meditations, let alone who else would've ventured out here far before anyone else would've prepared for the day.
"Hi, Stefan," she called, turning to face him.
Stefan slid onto the bench beside her, folding his fingers as he peered out towards the rising sun. Even now, when he had gotten almost no sleep, he seemed put together: a button-down shirt and slacks compared to her ratty, old pajamas. (If she didn't know better, he didn't need sleep.)
He took one look at her, his brow furrowing. "Worried about the big day?"
"Aren't you?"
He hummed, shaking his head, "Not really. We were taught by the best alchemist in the entire country. It'd be weirder if we didn't become royal alchemists."
"Says the guy who's been living and breathing it since he was born." Jesse allowed herself a laugh, leaning back on the bench and stretching out her arms. "Aunt Sheila says you were performing spells when you were a baby."
"Ha!" Stefan's laugh was hollow. "It's still a big day. I get why anyone would be worried about taking a practical."
"Yeah, like me." Jesse elbowed him. "I've only been studying for a year, and she tells me I'm ready to try today."
"Just means she thinks you're ready." Stefan's voice was warm, even as he kept his gaze focused on the rising sun. "I think so too. You're going to ace whatever she and the rest of the royal alchemists throw your way, and then you're going to –"
"Return to Central, become the best alchemist they've ever known." Jesse laughed - a real, genuine one this time. "Or so I keep on hoping."
Stefan leaned back too, tapping his fingers on the bench's armrest. "Yet you came here, to Mystic Falls, when Central's alchemists outclass ours any day of the week?"
When he put it like that, time after time, Jesse almost wondered if Stefan harbored his own green-eyed monsters. He harped on this - like it was salt rubbing into an eternal wound - and she never quite found an answer that would satisfy him.
Central moved too forward to return to traditions, she would say. Central's light years ahead means they would have a better grip on the basics, he would retaliate. Central's steel and metal didn't give anyone room to breathe, she would try. Central's steel and metal wouldn't burn when all of Mystic Fall's woods did, he would remind her with actual impatience.
So today, on the absolute last day she would see him, she would have a proper answer.
"I came because Mystic Falls has the oldest and most storied alchemic tradition," she said, meeting his gaze and reaching out for his hands. "I came because Aunt Sheila is the best alchemist anywhere, including minds like King Harrison and Duke Bartholomew. I came because..."
I came because here, I would know I was an alchemist on my own merit, and not because someone was bribed into accepting my failures.
She swallowed. If she didn't tell him, she would never get this chance.
"Stefan..." she squeezed his hands, bracing herself for impact. "Can you keep a secret?"
He peered at her, with newfound concern and none of the sarcasm or disgruntlement she had come to expect from his sullen grace. If her heart weren't racing a million miles per minute, she might've found it sweet - or maybe even charming? As if he were capable of that?
"Yeah." His voice was low, soft, "Whatever you need, within reason."
She drew in a breath, holding onto his hands as if they were a lifeline. "I came here because I knew that Mystic Falls would judge me on my merit, not my birthright."
"What?" Stefan blinked back surprise. "What do you mean...?"
"I mean," she took another breath, feeling the nerves rise higher, even though it shouldn't, it's just Stefan, she's only confessing at 5 AM and in the rattiest, oldest pajamas known to mankind, "I'm not exactly a commoner. I'm uh, I'm the princess of Central. You know, just studying here so I know I'm actually good and-"
His expression softened as he leaned forward and brushed back strands of hair. "Yeah, I know."
"Huh?" She shot him a baffled look. "What do you mean, you know?"
"I mean, Aunt Sheila told me because she's the royal alchemist." Stefan's face only grew more fond as he tucked those strands behind her ear. "Think, Jesse - who would've taught you back home?"
"Oh, that would've been Cisco –"
Horror dawned on her. If Stefan had been Aunt Sheila's only pupil, the same way she would've been Cisco's only pupil, then...
She braced herself for impact, "Stefan?"
"Yeeees?" He was laughing at her now, wasn't he.
"What's your real last name?"
God, his laugh was loud and contagious - the kind that reverberated through his entire body - as he struggled to hold it all in. "Salvatore."
Jesse elbowed him harder, jutting it as deep into his knee as she could. "You jerk!"
"Says the girl who actually thought I'd be fooled by a fake last name." Stefan drew in a breath, if only to rein in his (never-ending) laughter. "Come on, Jesse... you're too important to be given to just any alchemist."
"Oh." Her ears and cheeks and entire body were burning. Somehow, in that genius brain of hers, she should've known Mom and Dad would've thought about this. "I... yeah."
Stefan, for the most part, intertwined his fingers in hers. "So you weren't here to steal all of my family secrets."
"What?" Jesse snorted, actually squeezing Stefan's hand. "No, as if! I just knew your court wouldn't claim I was good when I wasn't. If I failed, I failed. No birthright superseding talent or anything dumb like that."
His shoulders slumped with relief. "That... explains a lot."
"You're paranoid." Jesse wrinkled her nose at him. "Does this mean you knew the entire time?"
"Not the entire time..." Stefan paused. "Just half the time?"
She wanted to elbow him again, but he was taking the practical. She had to leave him in halfway decent physical shape before breakfast, let alone before the final - especially now that she knew that he was one of the crown princes, with an entourage that must've lurked in the shadows.
"Still too much of the time!"
Stefan held his hand out towards her, "Then I'll make it up to you?"
"By telling me a secret that no one else knows," Jesse agreed, reaching out to take his hand again. "Then maybe I'll consider it even."
Technically, she could've rewound this moment - she could've run all the way back to midnight and let Stefan b baffled by how she would know his every move - but she liked the earnest, puppy dog looks he kept shooting her way when he thought he had the upper hand. Instead, she focused on her hands, on how the molecules vibrated and shifted to speeds faster than the spectrum of visible light - and the morning seemed to stand still.
The sun hung precariously on the edge of the horizon, threatening to rise up; the birds were arrested in song; and Stefan was leaned forward, holding out a hand for her.
As he stood still, frozen in time, frozen in this moment, Jesse closed the gap between them and stole a kiss.
The light and heat beating down on them restored the flow of time, right as Stefan's eyes and baffled body registered what had happened - Jesse side-stepped it and turned back towards the atelier.
"Now we're even," she called, turning back inside.
It may be too late to return and get sleep, but Jesse could feel a calm wash over her. She'd ace the exam and she'd – feel her arm being tugged by the prince behind her as he overtook her and stole another kiss.
"I don't think so," he murmured, cupping her face in his hands and sucking in her air. As he stole yet another kiss, he whispered in her ear, "I love you. Does that count as a secret?"
She wanted to say yes. It should've counted, but -
"This makes everything complicated," she murmured.
"Everything's complicated," he shot back, shifting one hand to run through her hair, fingers holding onto strands, "At least this way, we've cleared the air between us."
He had a point there, so Jesse stood with him, listening to his heartbeat and counting between every breath. If they were going to make every single moment count - if they were going to be late to their own practical - she might as well make the world stand sill.
royalty - Stefan Salvatore / Jesse Wells | wordcount: 1,895
In two short hours, she would take her formal, practical alchemy exam, and frankly, she was terrified. She could've studied back home in the castle. She could've taken the easy way and declared herself a court alchemist on her own orders, with none of the training or expertise to back her claims. Yet that wouldn't be fair to her or those she wished to help.
So close to a year ago, she had ventured to the nearby Salvatore Kingdom, with her parents' blessings, where she trained under the tutelage of Dad's old friend Sheila Bennett.
(“If you're going to learn alchemy,” Mom had said as she waved Jesse off with a hug and kiss, “You might as well learn from the best.”)
Unlike her home, which had prided itself on technology and innovation, the Salvatore Kingdom and its capital city Mystic Falls was arrested in time. The claustrophobic, cobblestone streets whispered of times long gone, as did tall, sturdy trees and blooming flowers on the side of the road. Said roads were barely wide enough to fit two automobiles, one on each side - and no one in Mystic Falls had rushed from place to place with any sense of urgency.
From the moment she stepped across the threshold and into her new home, she realized she would have to slow down. Smell the roses on every corner, maybe count between every breath.
This had posed a significant problem, considering how her powers had drawn on time, and people's perceptions of said time. Jesse fidgeted during every lesson; drew her sword too fast; kept missing equations by a hair; and most importantly, embarrassed herself during every lesson with her only classmate. Sure, Stefan Branson - Dr. Bennett's only pupil prior to Jesse's entrance - had been cute, but more pressingly, he knew nothing of her royal status.
Jesse had insisted on it, as her lone condition for studying elsewhere: she would be Jesse Chambers, daughter of a court herbalist, rather than the crown princess and the lone heir to her family's throne. Stefan Branson had hailed from similar origins; why embarrass him and potentially create a gulf between them, just because of her ambitions?
"Good thing I'm taking the exam alone." As it was 5 AM, and Dr. Bennett was nowhere near awake, she had opted to sit outside the atelier, on a bench overlooking the garden. Jesse drew in a breath, counting on the thirds of her fingers, "One... two..."
"Three," a voice called beside her.
Jesse didn't have to look beside her to know who had interrupted her shaky meditations, let alone who else would've ventured out here far before anyone else would've prepared for the day.
"Hi, Stefan," she called, turning to face him.
Stefan slid onto the bench beside her, folding his fingers as he peered out towards the rising sun. Even now, when he had gotten almost no sleep, he seemed put together: a button-down shirt and slacks compared to her ratty, old pajamas. (If she didn't know better, he didn't need sleep.)
He took one look at her, his brow furrowing. "Worried about the big day?"
"Aren't you?"
He hummed, shaking his head, "Not really. We were taught by the best alchemist in the entire country. It'd be weirder if we didn't become royal alchemists."
"Says the guy who's been living and breathing it since he was born." Jesse allowed herself a laugh, leaning back on the bench and stretching out her arms. "Aunt Sheila says you were performing spells when you were a baby."
"Ha!" Stefan's laugh was hollow. "It's still a big day. I get why anyone would be worried about taking a practical."
"Yeah, like me." Jesse elbowed him. "I've only been studying for a year, and she tells me I'm ready to try today."
"Just means she thinks you're ready." Stefan's voice was warm, even as he kept his gaze focused on the rising sun. "I think so too. You're going to ace whatever she and the rest of the royal alchemists throw your way, and then you're going to –"
"Return to Central, become the best alchemist they've ever known." Jesse laughed - a real, genuine one this time. "Or so I keep on hoping."
Stefan leaned back too, tapping his fingers on the bench's armrest. "Yet you came here, to Mystic Falls, when Central's alchemists outclass ours any day of the week?"
When he put it like that, time after time, Jesse almost wondered if Stefan harbored his own green-eyed monsters. He harped on this - like it was salt rubbing into an eternal wound - and she never quite found an answer that would satisfy him.
Central moved too forward to return to traditions, she would say. Central's light years ahead means they would have a better grip on the basics, he would retaliate. Central's steel and metal didn't give anyone room to breathe, she would try. Central's steel and metal wouldn't burn when all of Mystic Fall's woods did, he would remind her with actual impatience.
So today, on the absolute last day she would see him, she would have a proper answer.
"I came because Mystic Falls has the oldest and most storied alchemic tradition," she said, meeting his gaze and reaching out for his hands. "I came because Aunt Sheila is the best alchemist anywhere, including minds like King Harrison and Duke Bartholomew. I came because..."
I came because here, I would know I was an alchemist on my own merit, and not because someone was bribed into accepting my failures.
She swallowed. If she didn't tell him, she would never get this chance.
"Stefan..." she squeezed his hands, bracing herself for impact. "Can you keep a secret?"
He peered at her, with newfound concern and none of the sarcasm or disgruntlement she had come to expect from his sullen grace. If her heart weren't racing a million miles per minute, she might've found it sweet - or maybe even charming? As if he were capable of that?
"Yeah." His voice was low, soft, "Whatever you need, within reason."
She drew in a breath, holding onto his hands as if they were a lifeline. "I came here because I knew that Mystic Falls would judge me on my merit, not my birthright."
"What?" Stefan blinked back surprise. "What do you mean...?"
"I mean," she took another breath, feeling the nerves rise higher, even though it shouldn't, it's just Stefan, she's only confessing at 5 AM and in the rattiest, oldest pajamas known to mankind, "I'm not exactly a commoner. I'm uh, I'm the princess of Central. You know, just studying here so I know I'm actually good and-"
His expression softened as he leaned forward and brushed back strands of hair. "Yeah, I know."
"Huh?" She shot him a baffled look. "What do you mean, you know?"
"I mean, Aunt Sheila told me because she's the royal alchemist." Stefan's face only grew more fond as he tucked those strands behind her ear. "Think, Jesse - who would've taught you back home?"
"Oh, that would've been Cisco –"
Horror dawned on her. If Stefan had been Aunt Sheila's only pupil, the same way she would've been Cisco's only pupil, then...
She braced herself for impact, "Stefan?"
"Yeeees?" He was laughing at her now, wasn't he.
"What's your real last name?"
God, his laugh was loud and contagious - the kind that reverberated through his entire body - as he struggled to hold it all in. "Salvatore."
Jesse elbowed him harder, jutting it as deep into his knee as she could. "You jerk!"
"Says the girl who actually thought I'd be fooled by a fake last name." Stefan drew in a breath, if only to rein in his (never-ending) laughter. "Come on, Jesse... you're too important to be given to just any alchemist."
"Oh." Her ears and cheeks and entire body were burning. Somehow, in that genius brain of hers, she should've known Mom and Dad would've thought about this. "I... yeah."
Stefan, for the most part, intertwined his fingers in hers. "So you weren't here to steal all of my family secrets."
"What?" Jesse snorted, actually squeezing Stefan's hand. "No, as if! I just knew your court wouldn't claim I was good when I wasn't. If I failed, I failed. No birthright superseding talent or anything dumb like that."
His shoulders slumped with relief. "That... explains a lot."
"You're paranoid." Jesse wrinkled her nose at him. "Does this mean you knew the entire time?"
"Not the entire time..." Stefan paused. "Just half the time?"
She wanted to elbow him again, but he was taking the practical. She had to leave him in halfway decent physical shape before breakfast, let alone before the final - especially now that she knew that he was one of the crown princes, with an entourage that must've lurked in the shadows.
"Still too much of the time!"
Stefan held his hand out towards her, "Then I'll make it up to you?"
"By telling me a secret that no one else knows," Jesse agreed, reaching out to take his hand again. "Then maybe I'll consider it even."
Technically, she could've rewound this moment - she could've run all the way back to midnight and let Stefan b baffled by how she would know his every move - but she liked the earnest, puppy dog looks he kept shooting her way when he thought he had the upper hand. Instead, she focused on her hands, on how the molecules vibrated and shifted to speeds faster than the spectrum of visible light - and the morning seemed to stand still.
The sun hung precariously on the edge of the horizon, threatening to rise up; the birds were arrested in song; and Stefan was leaned forward, holding out a hand for her.
As he stood still, frozen in time, frozen in this moment, Jesse closed the gap between them and stole a kiss.
The light and heat beating down on them restored the flow of time, right as Stefan's eyes and baffled body registered what had happened - Jesse side-stepped it and turned back towards the atelier.
"Now we're even," she called, turning back inside.
It may be too late to return and get sleep, but Jesse could feel a calm wash over her. She'd ace the exam and she'd – feel her arm being tugged by the prince behind her as he overtook her and stole another kiss.
"I don't think so," he murmured, cupping her face in his hands and sucking in her air. As he stole yet another kiss, he whispered in her ear, "I love you. Does that count as a secret?"
She wanted to say yes. It should've counted, but -
"This makes everything complicated," she murmured.
"Everything's complicated," he shot back, shifting one hand to run through her hair, fingers holding onto strands, "At least this way, we've cleared the air between us."
He had a point there, so Jesse stood with him, listening to his heartbeat and counting between every breath. If they were going to make every single moment count - if they were going to be late to their own practical - she might as well make the world stand sill.