A/N: So, more or less, every other story has been written leading up to this. This is my epic piece for this show.
Set in the future by five years, making Gunther 19, Jane 17, and Magnus dead at 46.
I apologize in advance for the French and German, but Jane does not speak those languages, and whenever the characters are actually speaking French, it is in the situation that Jane does not understand and the conversations have no bearing on the plot.
Magnus Breech passed unexpectedly, leaving the world before his son had even been knighted. The youth, at nineteen, was obviously shaken, suddenly in possession of land and wealth, suddenly without the man that had influenced him so much. Excused from knight's training for the while, he spent his days at the large house he had lived in all his life, looking at it with new eyes and down at the docks and quarries and farms.
Gunther had always been rather solitary, but when Magnus was buried in the Graveyard of Innocents behind the church (and Jane had heard more than one villager snort at the irony), Gunther tossed his obligatory handful of dirt as the only living relative of Magnus Breech and fled the cemetery entirely, leaving the villagers to spit in the grave as they wished. Jane had come with her parents, and while her mother sighed about the unchristian actions of those Magnus had wronged in his life and her father covered her ears to spare her hearing the curses, Jane's eyes followed Gunther as he strode quickly away, hands in fists at his sides with bone white knuckles.
Once the priest managed to get everyone to stop and finished the mass, those of the castle headed back up, disquieted by the open disgust those of the village had for the dead man. "That, Jane, was a display of the worst of humanity," said her father. Silently, Jane agreed.
"Perhaps not the worst, but truly they could have conducted themselves with a little more respect," said her mother with a disapproving sniff.
"No one likes the Breech family," said Jane. "That is what Gunther has told me."
"I believe I heard that discussion, or at least part of it," said Milton, rubbing his chin. "I thought him a bit dramatic, really."
The two squires had been set to guard the gate together, and standing on opposite sides of the large doorway, they got to talking. And somehow, they got to discussing live in the village. "I lived up here all my life," said Jane. "And I know that is a blessing not everyone has but honestly I would like to know what it is like living in the village."
"Jane, you would do better asking Pepper or Smithy," said Gunther, shaking his head. "My experience is far from the norm."
"Smithy has been set to fix up all of the dents in Sir Ivon's armor and you try getting Pepper to sit still and talk."
"Fair enough."
"Tell me, what is it like? Are the markets really as exciting as everyone makes out?"
"I never go so I could not tell you."
"Gunther, you must have gone at least once."
"I did go once. My father was off doing something and Peter sent me to fetch something for Mary."
"Who?"
"Peter works for our family, Mary is the cook. A few girls help tidy up once a week but that is beside the point. I went to market to get the garlic she wanted and some boys thought it good fun to throw some rocks at me. Called me a bastard and one of them spat on me. I do not go to market anymore."
"That…that is horrible!"
"People in the village do not have to be subtle about their dislike of my family. Especially when it is just me. They hate my family. Evil is in our blood, they say." They fell silent at the sound of footsteps, and turned to see Milton Turnkey, leaving the castle with a book under his arm.
"Where are you going, father?"
"I have business in the quarries. We need some stone and I must go make certain we get it," the man said. "I will be back in two hours at most. I shall see you when I return Jane…" his pause was almost unnoticeable before he said, "Gunther."
"Lord Chamberlain," said Gunther, bowing his head in return. Milton walked on.
"I think the boy knows to leave the dramatics to Jester, Milton," said Jane's mother, drawing Jane from her memories.
"Well he obviously does not know that one should stay for the entirety of their father's funeral."
"I promise I will stay," said Jane.
"And we will hope that it will be a long time until then, will we not?" said Lady Adelaide with a glace to her daughter, who bowed her head in agreement. They walked the rest of the way home in silence.
Upon return, Jane went down to the kitchens for her midday meal. There she was met by her dear friends, none of which had gone down for the funeral. "How was it?" asked Pepper, setting down a bowl of soup before her.
"Those in attendance could have…could have conducted themselves a little more decently," said Jane, trying to stay a bit more delicate.
"Everyone acted poorly?" asked Rake.
"Well…not everyone. But Gunther walked out and I do not know where he went, and the priest had his work cut out for him given how there was a lot of spitting into the grave and cursing his eternal soul."
"That is just disrespectful, no matter who it is," said Smithy.
"But not altogether surprising," said Jester. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Well I never liked him. I never saw anyone else leaping to defend his honor. No one in town likes the Breech family, we all know that."
"It was the man's funeral," said Pepper, staring at the youth in the bright clothing.
"Well that I am not disagreeing with. The fact that they disliked him enough to even contemplate it is not surprising."
"But they were not contemplating it," said Jane. "They were doing it."
"But they would have to think about it before doing it."
"He has a point," said Rake, and the others agreed, the slight argument fading from their minds as any other minor disagreement would.
Gunther, for his part, sat in his room in his childhood home, biting at his first finger as he shook from the emotions bottled in him. He had promised himself long ago that he would not cry anymore, and aside from reactionary tears of pain when he was struck by accident in particularly painful places, he had not cried in many years. He was not about to cry over his father.
If asked, Gunther could list far more reasons as to why he had disliked his father than reasons he liked him or anything approaching love. It was difficult to understand, then, why he was struggling against tears.
"Gunther?" asked a gentle voice, that of the family's manservant, Peter. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I-I just…no I am not." Gunther could not see Peter, but he could hear him approach and felt him sit beside him on the bed, not touching him.
"I have known you since you were just a child. And I know that you are more affected than you want to be by the people here. You told me about your promise to never cry again, and I respect your choices, but…sometimes tears do help. Especially when dealing with loss."
"Why do I want to cry? I hated him."
"He was your father. He was a very large part of your life." He sighed. "I do not know what he told you when he was on his deathbed, but when you came out you looked more upset than I have ever seen you. And you do know that I at least will still be here for you."
"I thank you Peter."
"Do you need a hug?" Gunther said nothing, but simply leaned against him, staring a hole in the wall in an effort of not cry. Peter's arm wrapped around him fondly, rubbing the youth's strong arm. He had acted as a stand in for Gunther when Magnus had disappointed in the realm of parent. The amount of times that Gunther had sat beside him, leaning on him as he was now, helping him with whatever task he was engaged in, was far too high in his opinion. "Be valiant, Gunther. It will all work out."
"If anything I will need to change just about everything. I do not want to be a repeat of my father."
"I do not find any son wants to be a father's reprise. I understand that you most of all do not want that. What changes do you have in mind?"
"A lot of them. The rent, the quarries, the sailors…I had a lot of arguments with how my father ran his business."
"We all did."
"I will have to go to the continent too."
"I know."
"Do you promise to be here when I come back?"
"Do you promise to be here when we come back home?" asked the child, no taller than his hip, with wide earnest eyes looking up at him. "Father says we are going all the way to the Emisomething of Corsomething."
"Emirate of Córdoba," said Peter with a smile. "Your father mentioned it."
"Right. But he says we will be gone a long time. Will you be here when we come back?"
"I do." The boy, leaned against him and fiddling with a loose piece of string that Peter was repairing one of Magnus' doublets with. "So long as you behave abroad."
"I always do!"
"Well then I will always be here when you return." The boy smiled, content at that.
"I promise, Gunther. Mary and I will still be here. We will welcome you home."
"I will not be leaving just yet. I would rather change things here before fleeing the kingdom."
"Would you call it fleeing?"
"Of course I would. I am leaving the country right after my father dies. That is running away in the eyes of everyone here."
"Not in my eyes."
"But you are not everyone." Gunther then stood, pulling away from Peter's embrace. "I need to talk to the foreman of the quarries. That is the first thing to change."
"You have a plan?"
"Yes. My father would have hated it."
"Then you go ahead and do it." A small smile appeared on Gunther's face, but only just past a ghost of one. "I will talk to Mary about making you something simple for dinner then. And I will see if you have any other black doublets."
"Thank you."
"What will you be doing?" And Gunther told him. "That Turnkey girl has been quite the positive influence to you, has she not?"
"Jane is a thing of miracles," he said, but his voice was sarcastic, and the return of that facet of his young employer, Peter smiled.
"You should take her with you to the continent when you go."
"Peter, I have been imagining that for years. If the situation allows, I might try to ask her. No one else would come with me to inform the contacts that my father is…" he trailed off, but huffed out a breath. "I will be able to say it by the time I leave. I will." Peter smiled at the youth and pushed himself to his feet, watching Gunther head off to the quarries outside of town.
The quarries had always been the one branch of his father's business that Gunther hadn't enjoyed. They were too loud, too dangerous, and after having to build a wall multiple times in one day, Gunther really didn't like dealing with masonry.
Still, when he arrived, he was greeted by the foreman. "Afternoon, Master Breech," the man greeted. "I heard about what happened at your father's funeral this morning."
"The spitting, the cursing, or me leaving?" he asked.
"Well, all three to be honest, sir."
"I have no doubt. Now I had something I wanted to talk to you about. Business."
"And how you are going to run the quarries." Gunther nodded, looking up when he heard the familiar loud laugh of Dragon. And indeed, overhead flew the large creature and doubtless on his back was Jane, either on patrol or a pleasure flight. "That creature flies over nearly every day. Thankfully he never lands here or we would never get any work done." Gunther nodded, just watching them for a moment before returning to the task at hand.
Jane found she missed Gunther, gone as he was. She saw him when on patrol of course, walking down the path towards the quarries his father had owned that he now did, but she never saw him. She hadn't talked to him about the passing of his father. They had become friends of a sort, and this was the sort of thing she ought talk to him about. Still, she couldn't until he came back to the castle a week after his father's burial.
"Gunther!" she called, going over to where he was walking, the young man dressed in a somber black she had never seen him wear before. "I know many people have probably asked already, but…how are you?"
"Jane, you are one of the first ones to ask after my emotions. Everyone else has asked for my business plans for the future. As for your question, I am nowhere near fine. My father is..." he seemed unable to say the word and that made Jane's heart jump in sympathy. "I am not ready for the responsibility before me," he said. "Now excuse me, I have to meet with the king."
His dismissal was abrupt, but Jane was mostly shocked at the redness of his eyes, and how choked his voice was. She could not imagine Gunther crying for some reason, he did not seem able to in her mind; he was somewhat a rival and mostly a friend, but there was nothing about him that presented to her as in need of a good cry. She would have cried long and hard over her own father's passing, but she couldn't imagine anyone mourning Magnus as his son seemed to be, especially with everything he had told her over the years.
The greatest shock, however, was when Jane stood beside her parents at the public audience Gunther came to (and what a shocking difference that was from Magnus and his insistence on private audiences) and heard the youth say, "Your majesties, since my father's passing, I have inherited much more land and business than I know what to do with. Some I am versed in how to deal with, but others I have no earthly idea what to do with. With this in mind, I have come to propose putting the quarries my family owns back under royal control." Immediately the hall was filled with conversation, everyone and their mother with something to say. Jane turned to look at her parents, her mother stared with shock while her father looked as if Gunther had just turned water to wine.
"May we inquire as to why?" asked King Caradoc once it had quieted somewhat.
"I do not need quarries. I already have twelve farms that provide for me, and ten more that pay me rent besides. Not to mention trade that reaches to Rome and Constantinople. The quarries are somewhat of overkill and it would serve the country far better if the profit went to the royal coffers and not my private ones."
"That is quite a different opinion from your father's."
"Hopefully you will find that I am different from my father on many accounts," was all Gunther said, before being swept off by Milton for logistics of turning over control.
He was just emerging from the Chamberlain's den when Jane found him again. "You sold the quarries?" she asked.
"Passed control. I asked no money."
"Fine, you passed control of the quarries. But do you realize how much that will help the kingdom?"
"I just listened to your father lecture about it, so yes." Jane smiled and hugged him suddenly, making him freeze from the unexpected attack.
"You are a good man, Gunther." And she said no more, just holding him until he hesitantly put his arms around her as well. Over the years she had hugged him many more times than he had thought possible, but each time he hadn't been very good at returning that easy affection.
"Then you will be pleased to hear that that is only the beginning of my plans," Gunther said, walking with her down the hallway and out towards the familiar training yard.
"Tell me as we spar?" she offered.
"Gladly."