Disclaimer: Jane and the Dragon is (C) Martin Baynton, Weta, and Nelvana. I claim no ownership, nor make a profit.
Feet squelching on the trail, Gunther and Jane slowly trekked back to Kippernia Castle. They had spent the last week honing their survival skills away from home, with minimal supplies, no horses, and no Dragon. The week had been, apart from the odd insect problem, uneventful, until the thunderstorm on their last night. They had woken to find the small clearing they had been stopping in drenched and muddy, and had prepared for the journey home with no small amount of relief.
Conversation had been sparse all week, and apparently neither of the knights-in-training felt the need to change that now. They had matured somewhat over the years, but the tension that had plagued their childhood still sat heavily between them, making things awkward, almost painfully so.
It was likely to always be that way, Jane mused with a sigh, walking ahead of Gunther as the sun rose steadily higher. Of course she knew that they would never be best friends, but the relationship they had was tense and uncomfortable, as though they were on the edge of something more meaningful than training and occasional banter, but neither was willing to take the first step.
Jane's train of thought was interrupted abruptly by a wet-sounding splash and a grunt, and she turned to see Gunther sitting in the mud, looking slightly dazed. His expression flickered through bewilderment and annoyance before settling on disgust as he examined his mud-covered hands.
Jane tried to hide her smile behind her hand as Gunther glanced up at her, as though remembering she was there. He quickly fixed her with a glare when he noticed her amusement, but in his current predicament he looked far from fearsome. Jane's amusement grew as he continued to glower, until it bubbled forth as laughter.
Covering her mouth, Jane turned away, her shoulders shaking as she prepared to move forward, leaving Gunther to sort himself out. But both her departure and her laughter stopped abruptly as something wet and cold slammed into the back of her neck, causing her to shudder as it slid under her shirt and down her spine.
There was a long pause, during which there was no movement or noise. Then Jane turned around slowly, to find Gunther with his hand still raised as he sat in the mud, apparently surprised by his own action. Then he glanced up at Jane, smirking at the expression on her face.
"I hear mud does wonders for a lady's complexion," he needled.
Seething, Jane scooped up a handful of mud and flung it at his head, managing to skim his cheek as he swerved to the side.
"We shall soon find out, if it does anything for your spots," she hissed angrily, before spinning on her heel and stalking away.
A sucking squelch told her Gunther had pulled himself up, and Jane turned back, planning to laugh at his filthy appearance, when another ball of mud landed squarely in her face. Caught off-balance, she staggered backwards, and raised a hand to wipe the mud from her eyes. Gunther's voice reached her before she could see clearly, but she didn't need her eyes to picture that wretched smirk of his, which was undoubtedly back in place.
"Why not try it on you, first? As a knight, I know I must put ladies before myself."
Flicking the last of the mud from her eyes, Jane growled and launched herself at Gunther, relishing the look of shock on his face before they both thudded to the ground.
Making the most of his surprise, and hard landing, Jane quickly scooped up more mud and dumped it onto his hair, mussing it around.
'Childish', Sir Theodore would have called it. Jane was quite glad he wasn't around to witness this.
Gunther sucked in a breath under the weight of her, and raised a hand to his hair, feeling the mess she had made. He froze, horrified, and Jane burst into uncontrollable giggles at the sight.
"Why you little--!" He sat up suddenly, with strength that surprised her, and Jane went tumbling backwards.
He quickly returned her treatment, piling great heaps of mud onto her hair as she swatted at him half-heartedly, still struggling not to giggle.
Eventually satisfied that he had paid her back enough, Gunther sat back, still keeping her pinned firmly beneath him. The last of Jane's giggles subsided, and she grimaced as she felt the tangled mass of her curls. She frowned up at Gunther, just in time to see a blob of mud slide out of his hair and land on his cheek. There was a pause, and then Jane's laughter fought its way to the surface again, this time with a snort or two thrown in.
Busy with the effort of simply trying to breathe through her mirth while Gunther sat on her stomach, it took a moment for Jane to realise she was not the only one laughing.
Gunther sat with his eyes closed and mouth parted in a wide smile as he, too, laughed. It was not the annoying chortle he had used against her as a child, but a rich, deep sound, and Jane quite liked it. Her own laugh died, and she lay in the mud, gasping for breath and listening. She had never heard him laugh like that before.
Suddenly aware that he was being watched, Gunther opened his eyes, catching Jane's gaze. He quickly stilled his laughter, glancing away as he clutched his stomach with one hand and drew in several deep breaths.
He eventually looked back at Jane, and gave a barely-there smile. "You look like a fool," he told her, but there was no malice in his words.
Jane smiled back, catching her breath. "Surely no worse than you."
Gunther chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Jane waited, expecting him to get up and release her. Instead, he wiped his index finger on a relatively clean patch of clothing and brought it to her face, tracing lines through the mud across her cheeks and clearing a dot on the tip of her nose.
Jane watched, confused at first, and then transfixed, as a small smile worked its way onto his face and stayed there, as he made swirling patterns over her forehead. He re-muddied his finger and then drew it across her lips, leaving them thickly coated with the muck. Jane could taste it in her mouth, and screwed her nose up at him. Gunther simply smiled a little wider, and wiped over her lips again, this time with his thumb, removing most of the mud. He smeared the colour a little more, and then simply rested his thumb on her lower lip, his fingers brushing against the side of her face as his smile faded and his eyes grew slightly glazed.
Jane frowned in concern at this strange change. "Gunther? Are you alright?"
Gunther blinked, and drew back his hand as if he'd been burned. He glanced down, as if suddenly becoming aware of their somewhat compromising position, and quickly jumped up, turning away and wiping his hands on muddied clothes. Jane could swear she'd seen his cheeks growing pink.
He cleared his throat as she sat up, and held a hand out towards her, while not actually looking at her. "We should get moving, before Sir Theodore wonders where we are."
Jane frowned, both at the hand and the comment. Gunther knew that Sir Theodore would allow a day or two for their return before worrying, and she really didn't need some man to help her to her feet. But then, she reconsidered, would it really hurt to let a friend help her? They must be friends, because people who weren't didn't play in the mud, did they?
"Jane?" Gunther's voice broke into her thoughts, his hand still held out towards her as he watched her curiously.
Smiling, Jane nodded, took his hand, and pulled herself up.
A/N: So, this one goes to Kris, who encouraged me. It's her fault, really. ;P (smuggles her a cookie)