A/N: This story is a part of a series being written by the Jane and the Dragon fanfiction. A complete list of stories can be found in my profile. Now with hyperlinks!
A little Jane/Lavinia fluff for you all. Gunther has gone off on patrol, giving Jane a little break from her thoughts.
Pre-teens are the devil.
"No, I cannot."
Jane braced herself as Lavinia let loose another ear-splitting shriek.
Good, Lord. Are those lungs of hers really bellows?
It was hard not to react. So, so very hard.
Jane left her face impassive, plucking lazily at the grass under her her knees. She was sitting cross-legged in the small meadow outside the castle, where the hill began its gentle slope to the lake. It would have been a perfect day if not for the unseasonable warmth of the breeze.
Jane waited until Lavinia quieted before repeating herself. Again.
"I am sorry, Princess. My answer is still no."
With a scowl Lavinia moved closer, practically crawling into Jane's lap. Lavinia put her hands on Jane's knees and leaned close until their noses were almost touching. Jane could smell the lilac water Lavinia had used to rinse her hair. Jane braced herself.
The princess took a deep breath -where does she store it all?- and like she was channeling the battle cry of a banshee bobcat, screamed again.
Jane closed her eyes as flecks of spittle splattered her face. Lavinia had a consummate battle cry. Top-notch.
On and on she wailed.
Jane let her. The sheer volume was astounding.
How can someone so small produce such a fearsome racket?
The scream died with a crack and croak. Jane's ears rang with the sudden silence. Lavinia leaned back, red-faced and panting, looking for a reaction.
When Jane's face remained expressionless, Lavinia huffed, changing tactics. With a show of surprising grace -once again reminding Jane of a some demonized hissing cat- the princess threw herself backwards into the dried turf and launched into a full tantrum. A kicking, screaming, sobbing, flopping snot-filled mess of a tantrum.
Jane was most impressed.
She did however, endeavor to appear singularly unimpressed, lest she invite more of the same.
Really, now. This was a bit extreme. It had been years -years- since Lavinia had tried such a childish maneuver. Jane couldn't remember the last time she had seen Lavinia huff and puff, let alone throw a fit.
Stomp and storm, maybe. Weep and wail? No.
Lavinia was not stupid. Quite the opposite, actually. Lavinia was observant, clever, and quick to make social abstractions. She could be charming -oh so acutely and deceptively charming- and had been known to use flattery to get her way. On more than one occasion, Jane had been surprised by the princess' ability to stall and redirect a developing argument.
Even at a tender ten years of age, it was obvious Lavinia had inherited her mother's penchant for diplomacy. It was a skill Lavina could wield like a subtle knife.
When she chose to.
Clearly, this was not one of those days.
Unfortunately, Lavinia was also her father's child. Like her brother, the princess could be willful, stubborn, and sometimes, a little manipulative.
Maybe more than a little.
She could also be a royal wretch.
Jane sighed.
In the last few weeks -since the ball, actually- Lavinia had become more and more capricious, often exhibiting the less-desirable aspects of her personality. Rather than blossoming into the beautiful young lady she was destined to become, she'd positively turned into a bridge troll. No one was safe. Crossing her path was a risk. Jane had seen her positively torture some of the castle staff.
It is a good thing I love you, little Majesty, because right now, I'm not sure I like you very much.
What was going on? This had more to do than disappointment at Jane's refusal. Maybe the young princess was just tired? Or hungry? Developing a head cold? Perhaps she had a fever? Jane was afraid to check, lest she lose a hand.
If it had just been one tantrum, one out-of-character fit, Jane might have been tempted to explain it away. Blame it on the weather or some such. But this -whatever this was- wasn't just one isolated incident. This wasn't just the Princess being upset at being told no. Even Pepper -PEPPER!- had remarked on the princess' new brattiness.
Conceivably, the world was coming to an end.
Perhaps it was something larger. Jane wondered. Loneliness? The Prince had little time for Lavinia, but that was nothing new. The Queen was ever present, overseeing Lavinia's education personally. Jane herself still spent several afternoons a week with Lavinia. Like today's lovely interlude.
Conceivably Lavinia might need a peer, but she had always been an independent sort, so… not that. A desire to be treated like an adult? That would explain the princess' earlier request, but not the sudden reversion to this...this… childishness.
A fear of growing up?
Lavinia shrieked again.
Who could think through such a racket? Well, at least the tantrum had the added benefit of distracting Jane from her own problems.
Lavina must be in earnest. Jane could feel her exasperation rising. But what does she hope to accomplish with this...display?
The princess rained blows on the ground, arching her back. Jane suspected if Lavinia were any more enthusiastic in her endeavors, the princess would roll right down the hill.
What would such a thing would sound like? WAH! aaah! AH! aaah! AAAAH!
Jane almost giggled. Almost.
It was a close thing.
Catching a fleeting movement in her peripheral vision, Jane wrenched her eyes from the princess' exhibition. At the bottom of the grassy slope to her left, one Lavinia's guards shifted uneasily. The princess' two guards had moved off to a comfortable distance when the girls had sat down in the grass, giving them what solitude they could. There was in no real danger this close to the castle. It was shouting distance, really.
Jane glanced at her sword. She'd unbuckled it when they sat down. It lay in the grass next to her, gleaming dully in the sunlight. The guards knew Jane was capable of deflecting any potential threats until help arrived, but they had a duty of their own. A duty prevented any true sense of privacy.
She hoped they hadn't heard the reason for Lavinia's tantrum. Jane didn't want any rumors to spread. She enjoyed her time alone with the princess. Usually.
Jane couldn't see the other man (the guards came in pairs) but Jane suspected he was behind them in the trees, closer to the castle wall.
Wary, the guard to her left -Jane couldn't remember his name- raised his hand in a silent question. Everything alright?
Well, I am in real danger of losing my hearing but…
Smiling slightly, Jane shrugged and waved him off.
Jane suspected he was loathe to investigate further. She didn't fault him. It may have been years since the princess' last emotional outburst, but anyone who worked closely with the royals remembered their potency.
Lavinia was hard to forget.
Jane squinted at the guard again. William. If she remembered correctly, Lavinia had once bit him in a fit of rage.
Yes, it was unlikely he'd volunteer assistance of his own accord.
Jane turned her attention back to Lavinia. It sounded like she was winding down. Her kicks were getting weaker, arms heavier.
Jane opened her mouth to speak, only to have the princess renew her screams with fresh vigor.
Oh, wait, nevermind. I spoke too soon. She's got her second wind.
Jane sighed. Patience was not one of her virtues.
Experience had taught her to avoid providing the younger girl any additional emotional fodder. She let her mind wander. Her current situation notwithstanding, this week had been nearly conflict-free.
Sir Theodore had taken a number of the knights patrol, leaving the barracks as good as empty. Gunther had gone with them. There were still knights in attendance, but many of them had families in town or were busy pulling double duties. Jane herself had been tasked with cleaning out the weapons shed in their absence. It hadn't been a difficult assignment, or even entirely necessary. It appeared someone had organized and cleaned the racks recently.
Instead Jane had spent this morning sharpening swords. Jane glanced down at her filthy tunic. The work was fine, truly. Jane didn't mind it at all. Though she did have to admit the last few days had dragged a bit. She missed the hectic activity of the practice yard, the strenuous physical exertion, and the verbal sparring.
Sparring. I miss sparring.
Yes. That was it.
Jane wasn't bored, exactly. No. But she could feel the torpor creeping in, crawling under her skin, creating its own sense of unease. She wasn't sure which was worse. The previous unpredictable nature of her life, or this feeling of discontent?
Where was a tempestuous thundercloud of activity when you needed him?
It. When you needed IT.
Bah.
At first Jane had enjoyed the reprieve. That feeling of turbulent unpredictability which had been threatening to sweep her away had drained itself down to a minor eddy. The chaos of her thoughts had become nearly manageable -Jane no longer felt as though she were being assaulted from all sides.
Instead her problems were more singular in nature.
Such as young Lavinia and her injurious caterwauling.
The sunburn developing on her freckled nose.
And her mother's meddling.
Another ball. That damnable dress. Bogweevils.
Later. She'd think about that later.
It was far easier to neglect addressing one's actual problems when they were far, far away.
But now after almost a week, Jane was ready for things to return to normal. That horrible unpredictability could keep its distance, but normalcy?
Normalcy was more than welcome to return.
Eventually Lavinia's screams became less piercing, finally dissolving into large, hiccuping sobs. They almost sounded genuine. After a moment Lavinia sat up, taking a large hitching breath. Jane struggled not to smile. Her enthusiastic protests had resulted in fair amount of grassy debris in the princess' -now ruined- braids.
Jane waited.
"Why can't you? I am the princess, and you have to do what I say." Lavinia's eyes were red and puffy. Perhaps she had been in earnest at the end.
"Yes, I do Your Majesty," Jane spoke softly, "but ordering someone to do something you know they cannot? That would be most unworthy of you." Jane smiled, hoping to lessen the scold. "It is true I must follow your orders, unless what you are asking puts you in danger or goes against my vows to the kingdom. I am to be a knight of the realm. My duty is to the kingdom, and your father. I cannot train you to be a knight, not without an order from the king."
"Father would never agree." Lavinia pouted.
"It does seem unlikely."
"You could train me in secret."
"No, Your Majesty, I cannot." It was difficult to keep the impatience out of her voice. Jane gestured to the guard at the bottom of the hill. "Even if we were ever alone, which we are not, it would be dishonest. Besides, I am a squire, not a knight. I am still learning. What if I taught you wrong, or you were hurt while we were practicing? No." Jane kept her tone calm but firm. "No. I cannot." Jane readied herself for another outburst.
It didn't come. They sat in silence for a few moments.
"I thought you were my friend." Lavinia's voice broke on the last word. Real tears rolled down her cheeks.
Jane's heart lurched. If Lavinia was being manipulative, she was truly gifted. It was a well-placed arrow which certainly found its mark.
"Oh, Princess. I am." Jane gathered the crying Lavinia up in her lap, extracting a crumpled leaf from her hair. All elbowed arms and bony legs, it was a difficult task. She's almost too big for this. "I will always be your friend. You know I would be happy to teach you what little I know. But I cannot." Lavinia's cries were softer now. "It wouldn't be safe or honorable."
Jane rested her chin on the princess' head, rocking their bodies back and forth. Her hand tangled lightly in Lavinia's hair, stroking in time to their movement. "I am only allowed to train as a knight at the king's sufferance. It is a privilege, one that would quickly be revoked if I were to do something so improper."
"Why does it have to be improper? You are nobility, just as I am." Lavinia's voice was fading. She yawned. The tantrum must have tired her out. Her Little Majesty sounded close to sleep.
"No. Not like you." Jane's voice was quiet. "I am not like you. Lavinia, you must remember you are a princess, and may someday be a queen. You are destined for balls and jewels and parties and princes, not the sword and shield. You will be a lady of grace and beauty, not some battle-hardened warrior."
"Why can't I be both?" Lavinia whispered, so low Jane could barely hear her.
"I.." Jane hesitated. She didn't have an answer. Jane stilled. "I do not know, dearest." Lavinia didn't hear her reply, having already fallen asleep.
Jane pressed a kiss onto the Lavinia's head. She wished she had answers for the princess. More so, she wished she had a solution to the problem itself.
Jane resumed her rocking, letting the princess sleep off her exhaustion in the the fading afternoon light.
Why couldn't she be both?
Jane wondered.