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!
Jester didn't remember dying.
Perishing, unencumbered by the constraints of his imperfect mortal flesh, through the misted veil into the bedimmed corridors of everlasting nothingness.
It would be unfair. A cruel trick of the universe. The stale jest of a bored deity.
To remember dying, that is.
A cold wash of water splashed into Jester's nose.
Odd.
He could be mistaken, but never …never during his extensive education of art, literature, poetry, ballads, religion, bombastic speeches...never has heaven been described as a flush of silty water up one's nostril.
Another wave washed over his face.
Jester's disjointed musings were brought up short.
He opened his eyes only to slam them closed.
The light...Oh the light. It stabbed like shards of broken glass. When had daylight ever been dazzling? So luminously bright? So brilliantly blinding, so-
LAVINIA!
JANE!
It came back to him all at once, jumbled and tumbling. Algernon. His men. Jane challenging her captors. Fighting for Lavinia. Screaming for him.
Jester cracked one crusted eye, steeling himself against the pain. It was no less the second time. He scanned his surroundings. Algernon, Jane, and Lavinia were nowhere to be seen. He was quite alone, except for...except for
Jester's vision went blurry. He blinked several times in an attempt to clear it.
He was quite alone except for the brutish man at the far end of the beach. The one that had gone down with a sickening crunch when Jane kicked into his knee.
Jane. Jane!
Where is she?
Algernon took them, he took them both!
Righteous indignation, fear, worry, pain. Panic. His emotions threatened to rise up, to drag him under. Jester's dropped his head back down in the shallow water.
He could not afford to let them overtake him. Not for his sake, nor the sake of young Lavinia.
Jane.
Jester forced himself to focus, wrested himself into some semblance of calm.
The man. The scarred balding one.
Scaldy. Jester giggled. Scaldy with the broken...something in his leg. He was...what was he doing?
Algernon's thug was trying to drag himself into the water. Jester watched with a detached sort of fascination as Scaldy, whimpering in pain, slowly crawled his way across the beach. Where was he going? Where were the other-?
Angry voices filtered out of the treeline.
"He's going to fight. Why can't we just kill him where he lay?"
"Lord Algernon doesn't want any blood on the beach or water. Too easy to spot from above. The dragon, you know." The men stepped out of the trees onto the small beach and walked over to where Scaldy was desperately clawing at the sand in an attempt to escape.
"Sorry, Jimmy." The redheaded man did not sound sorry at all. "Was foolish to let yourself get beat up by a little girl."
"Aye!" The other man laughed. "You're one to talk. Who got his jiggly bits smashed and his nose broken?"
"Well if our pal here had grabbed the little wench like he was supposed to, that wouldn't have happened now, would it?" With a malicious smile, he raised his foot to stomp down on Scaldy's -Jimmy's- swollen knee.
Jimmy screamed.
"Shall we go?"
The two men stepped forward, grabbing at any flailing limb they could reach. Jimmy fought back. Clearly he did not want to go with his comrades.
Get up. Get up.
Jester pushed himself into a sitting position. The world thumped twice, pulsing black and white in tune with his heartbeat.
Occupied as they were, Algernon's thugs did not notice the movement.
Jester carefully probed the wound at the back of his head. It was swollen and bleeding.
Get up! Go!
Jester got up.
It was a difficult feat. Only the most proficient, most adept... only the most accomplished of acrobats could have managed the same. Surely it was a performance fit for a grand audience, worthy of the king's stage. Jester would have to rem-
GO!
Turning, Jester took a few stumbling steps to the trees. He'd just reached their cool shade when a gurgling scream filtered across the alcove. Poor Jimmy, he supposed. Not that the blighter didn't deserve it. Trying to hurt his Jane. Jester wasn't vengeful by nature but-
FOCUS!
He could not. His brain was too muddled, his thoughts too scattered. He needed something. Something to help divert the attention of his wandering mind.
Was not the threat of imminent death enough to define one's priorities? Was not th-
Apparently not.
A song then.
In robes of green the snailing spring,
Bedecks the grove with pride,
Jester pushed himself forward. There was no path here, and the going was rough. One foot after the other, Jester took slow plodding steps through the brush. Slowly would not do. Slowly would get him caught and killed. Skewered like a roast duck on the end of a spit like the unfortunate Jimmy-
Focus.
He started over.
In robes of green the snailing spring,
Bedecks the grove with pride,
Beneath the yew tree let me sing,
The lass of Kipper-Side,
His head cleared just a bit. Just a bit. Jester picked up his pace. He had made it maybe two hundred paces into the thick forest before Algernon's men discovered his escape. Their surprised curses could be heard plainly through the underbrush.
Jester sniggered. Quite uncreatively blasphemed.
Lucid reason, in all its frightening glory, reappeared.
If he could hear Algernon's men easily, perhaps he had not escaped as far as he thought? Jester staggered as he whipped his head around. He threw out an arm to steady himself against a tree. How close were they? Would they assume he entered the forest at its closest point? Or would they search the entire area first?
Nausea roiled. He couldn't afford to throw up. Surely they would hear him retching.
Go. Quickly. Now.
Jester ran.
It was the wrong direction, of course.
A coherent Jester would try to explain the mistake away. Strategy. Surely the men would not expect the fool to run away from the castle? Away from salvation?
To be honest, Jester did not expect it either.
Nevertheless, Jester ran.
I do declare a lass more fair,
In leathered armor cannot be,
Whose comely mein and reddened mane,
Has stole my heart from me,
Behind him he could hear them crashing through the forest. Breathing heavily, Jester stopped, swaying with the sudden change in momentum. How had they known which direction to go? He'd been careful not to crush the tawny flowers underfoot. Not to break branches as he passed by. Stealthy he was not, at least not in this current state, but he also wasn't crashing through the brush like a herd of cows.
So how were they tracking him so easily?
Looking down at himself, Jester realized he was still wet from his ...nap in the water. His shirt and pants were soaked, his boots squelching. Jester wasn't just damp, he was wet. Dripping wet.
The forest floor, dry and parched from the summer heat, was not.
Jester couldn't have left a more obvious trail if he'd tried. Well, maybe he could, given enough time, ribbons, perhaps some paint…
Focus.
Jester resumed his flight.
He was losing his lead.
The men hadn't seen him yet, but it was only a matter of time. He needed a plan. He needed to get back to the castle, to raise the alarm. It was just hard. Hard to think, hard to plan. A shudder wracked his narrow frame.
Everything was … jumbled.
In absence of a better option, Jester continued onwards.
Eventually Jester stumbled out into a small clearing, if it could be called such. Just a small break in the trees, really. To his right was a small outcropping of rocks which pushed themselves out of the forest floor. These he recognized. Here was where the bedrock began forcing itself out of the mossy earth, rising upwards into the hills, which would eventually fold themselves into the mountains to the north.
If Jester were to follow along the base of this particular escarpment, the rocks would steadily grow taller and taller, eventually turning into cliffs that would wander back to the shoreline, trapping him against the water.
It was a good a plan as any.
Running, his head buzzing, Jester followed the line of rocks until he found a spot he could easily scale.
It was a risk. He could lose his grip. He could fall. Algernon's men could come upon him, clinging to the short rockface. Vulnerable, helpless to react.
Focus.
Jester began to climb, chanting in whispered breaths in time with his movements.
Had I the choice of a monarch's lot,
To pomp and power ally'd,
I'd quit them for a rural cot,
And Jane of Kipper-Side,
He reached the top of the outcropping, and continued along the ridge, keeping low. After another few hundred paces, where the rock face would be too difficult to climb, Jester stopped. He stripped off his shoes and shirt, throwing them hard over the edge. They fell with a wet plop! onto the ground below.
Having accomplished his task, Jester moved away from the edge. Finding a thick patch of ferns, Jester crawled in. Curling up to make himself as small as possible, Jester tried to calm his fluttering heart, smooth his labored breathing.
The pounding in his head grew louder, rushing.
He was weary. His vision blurred.
Jane. Lavinia.
Too tired to fight its sucking pull, Jester slept.
And woke to the thumping of booted feet and jingling of weaponry.
He couldn't have been out for very long- surely Algernon's men had not been far behind.
There was a cracking of foliage as a sword was thrust into his thicket. It poked about, questing. Jester held very still.
"Oy!" called a faint voice from below. It sounded funny, muffled. The man with the broken nose?
The thug stopped his examination of Jester's hiding place and walked over to the edge of the ridge.
"Blighter went this way! 'E musta realized he was leaving a trail. Took off his shoes and shirt."
"Gimmie a moment, I'll be right there." Jester heard the man stomp along the ridge, looking for a way down. Not finding one, he went back the way he came.
The rushing was back. It swirled between his ears. He was cold. Why was he so cold? The afternoon was still sweltering even in the shade of the trees.
Jester fought to remain awake.
After five minutes, ten? Jester heard the two men meet up below him. Together, they chased after his non-existent trail.
I do declare a lass more fair….
Jester waited.
Has stole my heart from me...
Things were fuzzy around the edges again. Not wanting to wait any longer, not wanting to risk another unintended nap, Jester emerged from his temporary shelter. After a quick check to ensure the men were not there skulking, lying in wait for him to appear, Jester made his way back to the small beach.
Breathless, Jester stumbled out onto the sand.
There was no blood, no new signs of struggle. Algernon, the vile snake Algernon, was long gone.
Bracing himself, Jester waded out to where the sword fell. The water was cold, sapping what little strength he had left. Jester had seen Algernon's throw, where the sword landed. With luck, it had not made it past the shallows to where the water was deeper.
He felt around gingerly with his feet, but found nothing. He would have to go under.
Filling his lungs, Jester submerged. The shock of the cold him cry out. Jester resurfaced quickly. Too quickly, the sudden movement making him unsteady.
Well, unsteady-er.
With another deep breath, he went under. The cold, the pressure of the water on his lungs, the pounding, pounding of his pulse at his temples. It threatened to overwhelm him.
On his third dive, Jester's hand closed around Dragon's sword.
Shivering, feeling the hazy, disjointed timber of his thoughts, Jester struggled out to dry land. With shaking hands, he tried, tried, tried again to open the pommel. To call for help. To summon what he imagines will be a decidedly upset Dragon.
He cannot.
Focus.
He cannot.
Exhaustion slowing his steps, Jester took one, then two, then three steps back towards the castle.
Jester was so very, very tired.
Algernon's men were still in the forest. They could have realized his trickery, started back. Perhaps they lurked in his path, waiting to waylay him on his attempt to reach safety. Jester's body shuddered uncontrollably.
How much longer can I do this?
Until I get home. Until I get help.
Focus.
Jester resumed his song. It keeps his feet moving at a steady pace.
How blythe am I when evening comes,
To wander over the lee,
To sit amongst the yellow blooms,
With Jane a upon my knee,
The journey back took a long time. Horribly, interminably, long. He fell twice, the shivering under his skin knocking him off balance. Cramping his muscles.
It was wasted time, time Jester could not spare. For every ticking moment, every lost second, Jane and Lavinia were further and further away. Trapped in the taloned claws of that monster. Helpless and caught, to be devoured by Algernon's grinning, gaping, toothy maw.
The light filtering through the leaves had changed. Afternoon had snuck stealthily onward into evening. Jester pushed forward. He strove to hurry. Jester did not think he can find his way back in the dark.
Singing, singing. Eventually Jester spied the castle gates. They bent and swayed in time with his lilting verses. How did they know to dance? Was he singing out loud now?
Search every part throughout the land,
From here to bonny sea'side,
A hulking figure rushed at him, gripping Jester about the shoulders. The bruising hands shook him roughly. The figure was shouting, shouting.
You ne'er will meet a lass so sweet,
As Jane of Kipper-Side.
A/N: Jester's song is based off an actual poem, Jane of Tivotside. It's a bit more modern than I would have liked, but it fit Jester well enough, methinks.