A/N: I hold no claim to any characters, settings, or backstory created by Martin Baynton or Weta Workshop. I am only very grateful to borrow them from time to time.
Jane's mother, Lady Adeline Turnkey, dislikes that her daughter has chosen to become a knight and encourages her to be more lady-like whenever possible. I believe the reasons for her aversion run far deeper then the shock of seeing a young lady in a tunic rather then a dress.
The basic facts about Jane's mother were gathered from the official website of Jane and the Dragon. I merely attempted to round out her character by exploring her past and some of her emotions. At the very least I hope to give a little more depth into why she acts as she does.
The lady-in-waiting stood silently in the breezeway connecting the main castle keep to the knights' quarters. The windows along this particular corridor were perfectly situated to allow one to observe the happenings in the practice yard below with out being easily spotted. For that reason Adeline Turnkey frequented this spot almost daily, watching a certain red-headed squire from afar without fear of detection.
Lady Turnkey closed her eyes, listening as sword crashed upon sword down below. The clanging noise took her mind back to the time she was barely old enough to walk. Her memories were vague at best: a broad smiling face, deep rolling laughter, and being thrown high in the air by safe strong arms. Adeline remembered so little of her father.
She knew by heart all the tales of his bravery and skill. John D'Ark, First Knight to King Cedric, loved and respected by noble and peasant alike. The most valiant of soldiers, who had willingly volunteered to lead the diversionary attack against Kipper Castle. In one swift assault the invaders had been defeated, the castle regained, and peace restored. It had all been due to his efforts… and his sacrifice. For during that fateful battle Sir John gave his life to secure the future freedom and safety of his countrymen.
She could imagine him, but it was not the same as knowing him.
Lady Turnkey shut her eyes tightly; willing back the tears. Only a few short weeks remained before the castle's commemoration of that day. It was a day that deserved to be celebrated, she knew, for it brought joy to many people, yet it had brought Adeline and her mother nothing but grief. Years ago they had attended the first celebration of the Great Returning, but the many speeches and ballads honoring Sir John had been too much for Lady D'Ark. She had torn from the hall, tears streaming down her face, clutching then three-year-old Adeline to her chest, and sworn to never attend another celebration of that "cursed" day.
The lady-in-waiting laid a hand on the cold stone of the windowsill to steady herself. Memories that she kept carefully tucked away came suddenly flooding to the front of her mind. The time she had stood off by herself clinging to a rag doll, while the other children argued over whose father was the strongest. The numerous occasions she had watched longingly out her window as a man strolled through the marketplace with a little girl on his shoulders or tugging at his hand. The many dark days when her normally strong, self-sufficient mother could not stop weeping, and she was left to care for them both.
There was one evening in particular Lady Turnkey remembered well. It had been the tenth anniversary of the Great Returning. Though it was growing late, she could still hear the sound of merrymakers in the streets. All her friends had spent the day at the castle while she stayed home as she did every year on this day. Satisfied that her inconsolable mother had eaten at least a little broth before falling asleep, Adeline collapsed wearily into a chair. Suddenly the shouts outside died down. Curious, she rose and opened the window. What she saw caused a lump to rise in her throat. A solemn procession was passing by, far too large to count in the near darkness. Many wore the clothes of the mourning. Others carried flowers or candles. A soft, sorrowful song drifted to her ears. She did not need to follow the crowd to know they were headed to the graveyard. There they would honor the many who, like her father, had died in the battle of the Great Returning.
Silent tears began to slide down young Adeline's face. Hurriedly closing the window she stumbled back to her room, heedless of the blurry objects in her path. Falling upon the bed, her tears turned to wrenching sobs. As grief wracked her body she stuffed her face into a pillow, hoping the muffled noise would not wake her already heart-broken mother. That night all the sorrow and pain she fought so hard to keep hidden poured out; her weeping broken only by occasional anguished phrases.
"Why… why? It is all so unfair.
Why are we left alone?
Why did you have to die?
Why would you volunteer for such a task? Why were you not more careful?
Did you not care what would happen to us?"
Slowly the grief gave way to anger. "Knights are the most foolish creatures to ever live! They think themselves invincible! They take stupid risks!" Each new phrase was punctuated by her fist upon the mattress.
Adeline rubbed at her eyes and sat up, bottom lip trembling slightly. "I vow here and now that I will have nothing to do with knights ever again."
She had stayed true to her word.
Many young knights had sought to win her hand. Most had been more interested in her lineage then in her. They believed that marrying the daughter of the First Knight would grant them favor with the King and would ensure them of strong, heroic offspring. Adeline had promptly refused each suitor and instead fallen in love with Milton Turnkey, the level-headed, soft-spoken chamberlain.
Yes, she had stayed true to her word… until now.
Jane, Adeline's young daughter, had claimed all her life that she would one day become a great knight. Each time she declared her intentions to her mother, however, the lady-in-waiting would murmur something about a wonderful imagination, pat her on the head, and inwardly sigh with relief knowing her dream to be impossible. Only men became knights. Then came the day the impossible happened. The prince had been abducted by a dragon and Jane had disappeared only moments afterword, leaving her frantic mother to scour the castle for her. Some hours later a very small knight arrived at the castle gate with the prince in tow. The moment Jane lifted the helmet's visor to reveal herself as the fearless rescuer, Adeline felt her world fall apart.
It had taken time, but Lady Turnkey was beginning to adjust to the idea of a warrior daughter. However, adjusting to it and accepting it were two vastly different things. One fear in particular kept her from accepting her daughter's new course, a fear that haunted her day in and day out.
What if war came to the castle again?
Her darling Jane did not know the dangers she would face. How could she? All her life the castle had been at peace. Lady Turnkey, on the other hand, understood all too well the perils of war. She had seen too many young knights return from far off battles dreadfully wounded, or worse, not at all. Adeline still bore the pain of never knowing her father. She did not know if she had the strength to handle the grief of loosing her only child as well.
Perhaps if she could find some way to explain everything to Jane, but no, she knew better then that. The same stubborn determination that she had once displayed was evident in her daughter as well. The harder she pushed Jane to become a lady, the more her daughter would seek to become a knight. So Lady Turnkey would continue to let her disapproval be known in little ways, and pray, as she did each day, that Jane would never face war.
A cry of victory sprung from the lips of the red-headed squire below as she knocked her opponent to the ground, unknowingly drawing the attention of her mother. The lady-in-waiting smiled ever so slightly. Despite her misgivings, Adeline was a little proud to see her father's spirit live on in her daughter. That fiery, indomitable nature definitely came from her side of the family. Sir John would have been pleased. They were so alike; both loyal, brave, fierce, determined, and well-loved. In some ways, Adeline felt that by watching her daughter, she was getting a glimpse of what her father must have been like. For that reason alone, she continued to slip away to this corridor whenever possible.
Suddenly noticing how long the shadows had grown, Lady Turnkey swiftly turned from the window, a hand automatically moving to wipe a stray tear from her eye. She had yet to check on the evening meal, or prepare the banquet table. Carefully the lady-in-waiting sealed away all thoughts on knights and wars, making her face a picture of calm control. But before bustling off to the kitchen, she cast one last look into the practice yard. Jane might never know of her secret observer, but Adeline savored each glance; always sensitive that with a knight, life could be cut short at any moment.