Higher Priorities

Summary: If you love someone, you tell them before you lose the chance forever. What happens when Jane realizes that and it seems the moment has passed?

Disclaimer: I don't own Jane and the Dragon, obviously.

Standing at the gates and watching Dragon ripple away in the sky, Jane was torn between her duty to the king and the longing of her heart. The rest of her life hung on this: which of the two was the bigger piece?

Sir Ivan ordered her back to her unfinished chores, but Jane could not move, could not take her eyes from the green shape that was quickly vanishing perhaps forever from her life. Somehow she knew this time was different from all the others. She'd seen that crushed look in his eyes and there was no mistaking the heavy note of surrender in his voice. Soundless screams rang through her head and every muscle in her body coiled tightly. Her limps quaked with the aching need to move, but her brain couldn't seem to determine which way to go.

Sir Ivan barked her name once more, demanding her to snap out of her daydreaming. Years of instruction in the art of blind obedience caused Jane to jerk in a half-step towards the castle. However, before she could fully turn, her head swiveled of its own accord to the skies. She couldn't see Dragon and her heart twisted.

Jane tipped her head back, closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. The part of her that stubbornly clung to her dream of knighthood gave way to something else. It only took her a moment to recognize the feelings ricocheting around in her chest. The tender ache that was something like homesickness but worse, the raking need to lay eyes on him, the comfort of the scent of him that always lingered on her and the longing to hear his voice could only mean one thing...

She, Jane Turnkey, was in love with Dragon. The realization overjoyed her and then enveloped her in a wave of bittersweet regret. Remorse for the way she'd always put him second, for all the things she just couldn't change and for loving him at all when she knew it was impossible to do anything about it.

The worst thing she could do to him, she realized, would be to let him leave without him knowing. If you loved someone, you told them and reminded them every chance you got. Because the pain of rejection would be nothing compared to the horrible guilt of losing the chance forever. She exhaled heavily and felt the tug of war between duty and love slip to one side.

The little voice that reminded of her obligations snapped its mouth shut and for once, Jane Turnkey let her heart take the lead. She whipped around and bolted past Sir Ivan without a word, making a beeline for the stables. Less than a minute later, the red-headed man's eyes nearly popped out of his head when a wild eyed Jane shot past again, this time riding Cleaver bareback. Jane clutched the mare's mane and glued her body so closely to Cleaver's that rider and horse became one. One mind and one body headed with blind urgency to Dragon's cave. Jane desperately clung to the hope that was where he'd gone.

Up the mountain the sure-footed Cleaver galloped and all the while Jane begged that whatever deity might be watching would grant her a miracle. When they reached the end of the mountain path, Jane leaped from Cleaver's back and sprinted into the cave.

She could've collapsed with relief when she saw the big green lizard startled by her noisy and abrupt entrance.

"You're still here," she panted, breathless from the frantic ride.

Dragon hadn't expected her to come after him, but he'd gone to his cave anyway. He'd been ping-ponging between crumbling faith in her and a longing to rush back to her side. Even though she'd come, he was afraid to let go of the lingering pang of distrust lest he open himself up to be hurt again. She wasn't going to lure him back with pretty promises and tearful green eyes. Not this time.

Dragon knew it was selfish of him, but he had to know where he stood with her, once and for all. At first, when their friendship was still wobbly and her training was in its more amateur stages, they had many of these times when one would have to track down the other to make up. It had taken several years of arguments and struggles with foolish pride for them to find balance between her knightly duties and their friendship. With her knighting ceremony was only days away, things had gotten out of balance again.

Once she became an official knight, the order of her commitments would change and Dragon had sensed it. These days he'd grown uncomfortable when she spoke of her training and he declined any invitations to watch her spar.

Finally, Jane decided to confront the issue head on to clear up any misunderstandings regarding what was coming. As was typical, Dragon had grown upset and Jane blamed herself for her choice of wording. Things went downhill from there and before she had time to straighten them both out, he'd said he wouldn't get in her way and left.

"Why are you here?" asked Dragon in a listless tone.

Time to do some damage control, Jane thought, feeling ashamed of herself.

She exhaled heavily and recalled the days that seemed so long ago when this sort of thing happened frequently. To a twelve-year-old girl, hurting a friend felt like swimming in your stomach; to a girl just on the precipice of womanhood who happened to love that very same friend, it felt like willingness to crawl across broken glass on your stomach if it would grant forgiveness.

"This is just like old times," Jane observed humorlessly. "I've never been gifted with the talent of choosing the right words at the right time."

"Some things never change," Dragon remarked spitefully.

Jane lowered her head and conceded, "I had that coming."

"Why are you here?" he asked again with more force than before.

"Because you are," Jane replied honestly. "I couldn't live with myself if I'd lost you over something so stupid."

Dragon's eyes popped wide open at that and he wondered if he'd heard her right.

"Becoming a knight is stupid?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Jane answered. "But leading you to believe, even for a moment, that it means more to me than you…" her green eyes flared, "is complete and unadulterated stupidity."

Deep in his chest, Dragon's heart swelled and he squeezed his gold and caramel eyes tightly shut. If ever there was a sweeter confession of love, it wouldn't have touched him as deeply as the one he'd just heard.

"And you said you weren't good with words," Dragon grumbled good-naturedly.

Jane beamed at him and gamely retorted, "I suppose I can have my moments."

A whinny from the cave entrance drew their attention from one another and Dragon was surprised to see Cleaver was not saddled and bridled as she should have been. Which meant Jane must've ridden her right out of her stall.

"I didn't really have time to saddle up," Jane said by way of explanation. "Don't lecture me, please. I'm going to get enough of that later from Sir Ivan and Sir Theodore."

Dragon put the pieces together and could picture clearly what had happened when he left. Her single-minded determination to get to him was obvious despite the scolding she'd get for abandoning her duties. Yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret putting her in that position in the first place.

Oh he'd put on a good show of leaving for good, but he'd have been a big green bullet rushing right back to her side with one summoning note from her sword. Until then, he'd mope about in his cave hoping she'd come after him and soothe his bruised affections with some sweet little apology and a hug.

True to her nature, Jane went above and beyond what was expected of her; the hug notwithstanding. He got a great, big throw-her-arms-around-his-neck-so-tight-he-couldn't-breathe one of those.

"I'm sorry I upset you," she murmured into his scaly neck.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," he admitted in his turn.

Before she had to return to the castle, she wanted to get one thing out in the open and official. It was something neither of them had spoken of directly, but Jane felt that this was the perfect opportunity.

"Dragon?" she whispered, a little anxious.

He hummed softly, acknowledging her.

Twisting a bit at the waist, Jane leaned in and murmured sweetly into his ear, "I love you."

A shiver ran through Dragon's body and pulled her closer, his hand large enough to span the length of her back. He had been wrong earlier. There was a definite difference in an implied confession of love and the outright uttering of those three small words from one small short life. The centuries of loneliness melted away and he didn't care if it was wrong to love her. He didn't know a lot about love, but he knew he'd treasure her till his last breath.

"I love you, too," he whispered huskily, a tremor of emotion lacing his words.

Before Jane came along, he'd never known what it felt like to be loved and never expected to. As far as he knew, there were no other dragons and most of the short lives he encountered harbored a blind hatred of dragons. Then one little red-headed spit fire had crashed into his cave and turned his world topsy-turvy.

She was head strong, quick tempered and far from the delicate lady of the court that her mother wished her to be. And Dragon wouldn't have her any other way.

When Cleaver began to grow restless outside the cave, Jane reluctantly told Dragon that she had to return the mare to the stables and face the inevitable. Naturally, Dragon accompanied her on foot and tried to keep her spirits up, although nothing he could say could coax a smile from her once the castle was in sight.

She'd barely made it into the gates when Gunther swooped in on her like a vulture. He was given strict orders to take her directly to the throne room the moment she returned and he bellowed for Smithy to come for Cleaver. Jane spared a backward glance and tried to smile bravely for Dragon's sake.

A sentry must've seen them coming and sent word around, because spectators lingered in the courtyard chattering presumably about her. The instant she appeared trotting behind Gunther, they all grew silent and somber as mourners at a wake.

Well, that's encouraging, Jane thought dryly.

Gunther tugged one of the double doors open and bowed mockingly.

"Ladies first," he insisted with false gallantry.

Jane considered punching him right in his smirking face, but decided against it seeing as she was already neck deep in hot water. Inside the throne room awaited the King, Queen, Sirs Theodore and Ivan, her mother, father and a few other members of the court.

Oh…this is going to get nasty, she thought as her stomach sank slowly to her feet.

Upon her entrance, their whispered conversations stilled and she felt each pair of eyes like the pricks of needles along her skin. King Caradoc wasted no time in getting right down to business and asked Sir Ivan to recap the events of the day. A little man with a quill and a thick scroll of parchment scribbled rapidly and Jane assumed he was a record keeper.

Not exactly the way I envisioned my deeds being recorded, Jane mused, pursing her lips.

Once Ivan had finished his…colorful account of what he saw, King Caradoc thanked him and the older knight bowed, then stepped aside. With a heavy sigh, the King ushered Jane forward and she shrank beneath his disapproving frown.

"You abandoned your duties, disobeyed orders from Sir Ivan, took a horse from my stable without permission and disappeared for nearly an entire afternoon," King Caradoc listed her transgressions with the tone of a man who was disbelieving his own words. He slouched in his throne and touched a hand to his brow to rub away the beginnings of a headache. After a moment, he sighed and inquired with bewildered exasperation, "What were you thinking, Jane?"

"I was thinking that I was about to lose something that could not be replaced," Jane answered truthfully.

She would not apologize for her actions and she did not hold much hope for anyone to understand. She'd take whatever punishment he doled out and without so much as a flicker of protest.

It was worth it, she thought with a secret smile.

King Caradoc recognized the steely resolve in her expression and the stiffness of her spine. He would admit if only within his thoughts that he respected her for it, even if he could never say so.

"Your actions have made me wonder if you are truly ready for the responsibilities of a knight," he remarked with sad resignation.

He'd wanted this for her almost as badly as Jane had for herself. Secretly, he thought that anyone willing to do what she thinks is right, consequences be damned, was more than worthy of knighthood. However, as a king, he could not overlook the fact that her loyalty to Dragon was stronger than that to her king. This was one of those unpleasant times when his personal feelings had to be put aside before they colored his judgment.

"If I may intercede," the Queen interrupted in her soft-spoken manner, "I would like to address Jane myself."

King Caradoc was surprised, but pleased to hear his wife voice a wish to participate. With her gentle voice of reason smoothing over the situation, perhaps she could help them all come to a more pleasant conclusion.

"The floor is yours, my dear," he graciously gestured for her to speak her piece.

She nodded once and began to probe with questions that only a woman would think to ask.

"Jane, there is one question I must ask and I beg your forgiveness in advance," the Queen said.

Jane bowed and respectfully answered, "There is nothing Your Majesty could ask that would necessitate forgiveness."

The Queen smiled, thinking that would soon change, and voiced a curiosity which had been nettling her for quite some time, "Jane, have you lost your heart to Dragon?"

Jane's head jerked up from its respective bow and her face blushed a brilliant shade of red. The King leaned forward, interest thoroughly roused, and the few others in the room gaped in comical shock.

"I had thought," the Queen continued by way of explanation, "after the way you refused every would be suitor that your affections must be spoken for. Pardon my snooping, but I began to observe you discretely to discover who this mysterious sweetheart might be. It became increasingly apparent that Dragon took up more of your time than anyone else. And after all that happened today I had wondered…"

Jane dropped her head and swore she could feel every eye in the room burning into her. Even the scribe's buggy little eyes were watching her expectantly.

She knew Dragon was eavesdropping just outside the shuttered window and she knew he was hanging on her next words. If she denied it, he'd claim to understand because love between the two of them was taboo. Her mind fast forwarded a few years; she'd allow some foolish man to court and marry her to keep up appearances. Over the years, the weight of her secret heart would crush her.

However, if she owned up to her feelings, would she and Dragon be banished from the kingdom? What would her mother and father say? Would they disown her? What would her friends say?

Today she had told Dragon that he meant more to her than knighthood and she had proven that. Now that the steadfastness of her heart had come into trial she was frightened. Did she love him enough to withstand the censorship of her family, friends and possibly an entire kingdom? She could lose everything.

Everything except for Dragon, Jane thought and suddenly the possibility of being cast out wasn't so terrifying. He'd be right there beside her and as faithful as the sunrise. Then the truth sang out right from her heart, Dragon is my everything!

If she was bold enough to stand up for her heart, Dragon would stand by her one hundred percent and he wouldn't hesitate to tear through the stone wall to get to her if things got ugly.

She lifted her head and met the Queen's gentle blue eyes.

"Yes, Your Majesty, I love Dragon," she answered without so much as a stutter.

Gasps and murmurs shivered behind her and Jane started to get nervous when the King and Queen exchanged looks that spoke of things she couldn't discern. What made her unease double was the complete silence from Dragon. The King raised his hand in a signal to quiet the room.

"Jane," the King addressed her in a slightly patronizing tone. "I am correct in assuming that when you said you love Dragon, you intended it to be taken in a platonic fashion," he phrased it like a statement, but said it like a question. A question that expected an affirmative answer.

Jane's heart began to pound, but nevertheless she spoke firmly, "No, Your Majesty. When I say love, I mean as in the sort that inspires poetry and songs."

Yet again a rush of collective gasps and soft cries of shock rippled over her.

The King's brow furrowed and he glanced fretfully at his wife muttering, "What a calamity."

Jane didn't dare turn her gaze to her parents, but her imagination supplied what her eyes couldn't bear to take in. She knew her mother's face would be drained of all color and she'd be on the brink of fainting. Her father would be wide-eyed, red-faced and likely going through a mental inventory of all the times he should have seen this coming.

This time it was the Queen who lifted her hand and immediately all the chatter ceased. She folded her delicate hands in her lap and regarded Jane with eyes that were far from harsh or judgmental.

"I suspected as much," softly she admitted. She leaned forward and inquired, "And does he return your affections?"

"Good heavens!" the King cried. "Such a bold question! My dearest wife, I beg of you ask no more!"

The Queen turned and in a voice of velvet coated steel said, "Then why don't you ask it? I daresay you are just as eager to know the answer as I."

She fixed him with an expectant stare as did the rest of their audience.

All the while, there was not so much as a creak of scales from the dragon that everyone knew was just on the other side of a flimsy wooden shutter. Jane felt as though she were a wrongfully persecuted witch being bound to a wooden pole while betrayers lay mounds of tinder at her feet and prepared to light it. Where was her avenging angel, her Dragon?

Sighing, the King repeated the Queen's question, but flinched as though he preferred not to have it answered.

Jane lifted her eyes to the decorative eyelets in the shutter, hoping to see a flash of green scales, but all she saw was a blue sky that mocked her. She had hoped he was going to speak up for himself, but she couldn't even tell if he was still out there. For a brief moment, she felt abandoned and the reality of the situation finally sank in. This wasn't a pretty little fantasy come true. She was standing before the court, before her friends and family and confessing that she loved a dragon.

Surrounded by people and yet utterly alone. The room was silent and she could practically hear them alternatively condemning her, pitying her and laughing to themselves at her foolishness. Her eyes began to burn and she dropped them to the stone floor, watching as a tear fell and left a dark mark at her feet. She heard its soft splash and rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. Another tear joined the first and a third was just about to slide off her cheek when Sir Ivan spoke.

"Lass, His Highness asked you a question," he prodded in this gruff way, although there was no meanness in his tone. Only pity.

A quiet sob was her reply and it echoed like the crash of a guillotine through the throne room.

Suddenly a heavy pounding shattered the silence and every head but Jane's whipped around to the double wooden doors that led into the courtyard.

"What the Devil is that?" Sir Ivan cried over the ruckus and drew his sword.

Sir Theodore did not reply, but a tiny secretive smile hid beneath his mustache.

The insistent, heavy knocking paused and then resumed with doubled force. On the second pound the wood splintered, on the third the hinges moaned in agony and the fourth sent the whole thing crashing in. Before the dust could settle or the frightened cries end, Dragon charged into the room with fire in his eyes.

"You destructive beast!" Sir Ivan cried in outrage. "You could have at least asked us to open the doors!"

"You shouldn't have locked them," Dragon countered angrily.

Jane whirled around, sending long red curls flying out around her and when her brimming green eyes locked on to his, a growl rippled up from deep inside his massive chest. The moment she hesitated to answer when the King asked if he, Dragon, loved her, he knew that had been his cue. A nudge of his snout had proven the shuttered window to be locked and that had ignited Dragon's quick temper. When he circled around to find the courtyard entrance locked as well, he was instantly outraged. But that hadn't been what had sent him over the edge. No, what made him rip down the door was the moment he heard Jane's quiet little sob. In that moment, he would have crashed through the entire wall to get to her if it hadn't been for the risk of accidently crushing her. His blood was still boiling and the fire in him was rising closer to the surface.

He pushed into the throne room, heedless of the humans that scrambled to the far wall or the heavy oak tables that rolled over with heavy bangs as he brushed them casually out of the way with a clawed hand. He never took his eyes from Jane and once he was close enough, gently brushed the tears away with his barrel-sized hand. She sniffled quietly and Dragon lowered his head to touch his scaled cheek to her softer one.

"You thought I left, didn't you?" he asked, slightly wounded by her lack of faith.

"Crossed my mind," Jane admitted sheepishly.

He forgave her for it instantly and murmured, "Well kick that thought out right now, kiddo. You're stuck with me for life."

She reached up and brushed her hand along his brow and sighed with mock resignation, "Oh, woe is me." To which he chuckled briefly.

He let his eyes slide closed for the briefest moment and breathed her in, letting her scent calm him. He lifted his head and nudged Jane back until she was tucked safely between his two forelegs. She looped her arms around one as a lady would to a gentleman and Dragon tilted one corner of his mouth up in a small smile just for her. To the court he turned his attention with a hard look that meant business.

"There isn't a lock or a wall in your kingdom that can keep me out," he informed them. "The next time one of you gets the bright idea to lock Jane away from me, I suggest you remember that."

Then he leveled his burning eyes on the King and Queen.

"To answer your question, yes, I love Jane," he declared boldly. Before the murmurs could rise, he sent a smoldering glare around the room and challenged , "If any of you short lives feel up to doing something about it, I'd be more than happy to let you try."

Wisely, they kept silent.

"Dragon," the Queen spoke up. "May I ask something of you?"

"What?"

"Will you allow Jane to remain in the castle? I assume she still wishes to be a knight and though knights may marry, they must live within castle grounds."

The King cried out, "Good heavens!" once more and the newly ousted couple erupted into laughter.

The thin scribe whom everyone had forgotten in all the turmoil recorded those final words of the King and underlined them. He would hand in his resignation on the morrow and scurry out of this loony bin before any of their madness could latch itself onto him. Quietly, he gathered up his supplies and nearly spilled a bottle of ink with his badly trembling hands.

A lady knight marrying a dragon, he thought, nearly stabbing himself with his own quill. Good heavens, indeed!

THE END 3