Actions

Work Header

You Would Cry Out Your Eyes All Along

Summary:

People often tell Jerry’s parents that he’ll grow up into such a handsome man one day. That with their genes and the way he already looks, he’ll have no trouble finding himself a wife. That really, his noble title is just a bonus.

Over the years, people say a lot of things about Jerry. Just not to his face. It's a shame he cares so much about such things.

Notes:

I was supposed to be working on my longer Political Husbands fic, but the brainworms about Jerry's childhood hit me and I couldn't help it. Heads up for a fun mix of all the usual bigotry the Mander and Buster kids' childhoods bring with em, this isn't exactly a fun one.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

People often tell Jerry’s parents that she’ll grow up into such a handsome man one day. That with their genes and the way she already looks, she’ll have no trouble finding herself a wife. That really, her noble title is just a bonus.

Her parents smile and laugh, and always talk about how lucky they are to have a son so interested in taking on the family business. You know how it is her mother will often say, always the same tone, same rhythm, same words, back when I was his age, I cared much more for my dolls than etiquette and noble standards.

Sometimes, the other adults will tell her mother that really she was being brought up wrong. That the problem was her younger brother not being treated as the heir, that girls don’t need to be exposed to all that political stuff, and if they’re anything like her, it won’t matter anyway, given that she just married an heir herself. Jerry’s mother always laughs at those comments, always the same laugh, isn’t it funny how those things work themselves out?

Some of them tell her parents how lucky they are that their eldest is a son. Not like the Busters, with three girls and not the slightest hope. What more would you expect from the Busters? her father asks in return, having a female heir is the least of their problems .

After days like those, when people say those things that don’t make all that much sense to her, when they tell her how handsome and lucky she is, how wonderful it is that her parents have her for a son, when they talk about how unlucky the Busters are, or her mother was, her parents always sit down with Lucy.

They remind her that some people simply do not understand the rules of things. The oldest child, no matter their gender, is the heir. That girls make just as good heirs, and nobles, and rulers, and the only reason that role isn’t Lucy’s is because Jerry was born first. 

Sometimes, afterwards, she will hear her mother and her father talking. Her mother’s voice is weak, usually, and almost teary. It doesn’t make any sense to Jerry. Her mother does not cry. She cannot always make out what is being said, but she knows that it must be the fault of those people who do not understand the rules. She promises herself she will learn them all, and abide by them, and her mother will be proud of her.


People often tell Jerry’s parents that she’s a “lady killer”, a fact that makes her mother laugh and her father a little confused. Her father only ever watches on as his wife and son discuss it, always looking baffled when they do.

Jerry’s mother tells her that besides being sexist, the people who say that must be blind. Jerry will suggest that perhaps they are in denial, because she knows for a fact some of the people saying it are wives of men she’s slept with. That’s the kind of comment that earns her swats from her mother, who will tell her not to joke about such things. She always promises it won’t happen again, but it always does.

They would though, if I let them she often points out. Her mother always scowls, comments something about how that makes it worse, not better. Are you sleeping with adult men, Jeremiah? her father will ask, on the days he is following closely enough to still be paying attention. Her mother will always laugh at that, always, and thankfully that ends the conversation.

She does not entirely understand why Lucy, who has already managed to amass a small hoard of suitors, does not get similar comments. Her mother just looks at her with sad eyes whenever she tries to broach it, and so she shelves it again, presuming the answer must be that there is some failing she has not learnt of yet that Lucy is committing. But she has time, so she will learn it eventually, and ensure she never makes it herself.


After puberty, once his voice has dropped and he’s learnt how best to make his pimply skin look smooth and glassy, after he’s gone from just talking about sleeping around to doing it, Jerry’s parents mostly just get told that their son is something of a disappointment. His mother passes this along in casual conversation, the same way she might tell him that a family they don’t like has moved away, or has committed some dreaded faux pas.

He knows all the social standards, every last bit of etiquette, what to say and how to act to make everyone like him. It just so happens that those are exactly the skills that get people into bed with you, and once Jerry worked out that sex was fun, and that it could earn him social currency, he figured it was a lot more worthwhile than exchanging kisses like he was still in primary school.

Lucy is often upheld as the golden child, although they laugh about that too. They love her very much, but Lucy is far from perfect when it comes to upholding standards and image. She clearly has a talent for it, can get along with anyone she chooses, it’s just that most people aren’t up to her exacting standards.

His mother sometimes says that Lucy won’t get married until the monarchy is restored and a 7 foot man is upon the throne. Jerry isn’t sure Lucy wants to marry a king, but he often concedes that it is the closest to her standards he can imagine.

Jerry still spends his time perfecting every social standard and line of etiquette, has begun to memorise every standard dance and each variation, knows how to lead and follow in each, even though he knows that the standards are changing despite him. He does not understand why the new regime cannot publish their new ones yet. Even if they believe they aren’t yet final, why could they not simply put out a preliminary standard?

When he airs these grievances to his parents, they nod along in understanding. Oh, how much easier things would be if there was a book his father will often begrudge. It feels a strange complaint, how long standing it sounds out of his father’s mouth, although it has been very few years since the monarchy fell. His mother nods along, chiming in with in my youth, it was all mistakes to learn, you would have thought such things would have changed


After everything, after Naomi, and Jackson, and he who he needs to forget, Jerry knows that people speak only with ill will about him to his parents. His mother still writes, passes along the terrible gossip, informs him of that bitch of a woman she finally had kicked out of one of her groups. She has stopped passing along any kind of word about how people speak of him, however.

For a few letters, there is word of the man he is outrunning, but eventually he has to ask her to stop. She does, and they do not speak of him again.

Instead, she tells him about what a mess the Buonarrotis and Valientes are now. It's a kindness, on her part, but it’s also just an excuse to remind him of how little she ever liked his two ex spouses. Thankfully, he doesn’t much like either of them either, anymore, and so he is more than happy to let it go on.

His mother seems happier these days, and he’s never really sure why. Maybe it’s the distance between them, or the weight of a noble title lifted. Maybe it’s because he was the thing weighing her down. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to ruin a good thing.


Sometimes Jerry wishes no one said anything about her to her parents. The problem with people telling your parents things about you, she thinks, is that it means you have to be the kind of person they want you to be, or face their disappointment.

Jerry isn’t at all the kind of person her parents want, she thinks, but she can pretend to be. When she was younger, she was perfect. She knew every social grace and could carry them out with ease, would present as the perfect young man and future heir. She was growing up to become a nobleman without any problems.

Things changed, and still she was doing well in their eyes. They never did like the Busters, but in truth they always held an affection for Phillip, something she was sure was to do with her own care for the man. Philip wasn’t the perfect spouse by any means, but the standards that would dictate that were dead, and Jerry knew he would be there for her no matter what. 

Or, rather, she thought she knew.

And then Phillip left her, and she realised that even in this new world, with this new role she had to play, she was something of a failure. She had absolute potential, the absolute capacity to be perfect, and somewhere along the way she squandered that. 

For a while, she tried to maintain an image of herself that her parents would still hear good word of. When that failed, alongside two marriages, she decided it would be best to simply leave. She knew they still heard things about her, but at least they were more about her absence than anything else. She could live with unfounded remarks.

And yet, a continent away from home, she still felt bound by her parents expectations. People still, somehow, knew the name Mander. Not often, but often enough that word would certainly be getting home about him.

And so despite everything, Jerry kept up appearances. He did his best to approximate something that his parents would be proud of. He wore a glamour of a better version of himself, and maintained his long worn out charisma. 

And he hoped that his parents were proud of him. Or at the very least not completely disappointed.

Notes:

Come yell at me on tumblr bisexual-werewolf, twitter bisexywerewolf, or discord DMs