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!
This entry takes place just after Gunther gets back from patrol, but before the suitors arrive.
And here we thought Pepper would mind her own business.
Floating in that black space between wakefulness and sleep Jane sensed, rather than heard, her mother's footsteps climbing the stairs to her tower.
A quick rap sounded on her door.
"Jane, dearest!" Her mother's tone was imperious. "It is time to rise and shine!" Not waiting for an answer, Adeline marched off to whatever next task awaited her.
Jane rolled over and stuffed her face into the pillow. It was far too early for the sun to be shining, let alone for Jane to rise and shine. Briefly, Jane considered ignoring her mother's summons.
What good would that do?
Lady Turnkey ran the castle with a tight fist and a sharp tongue. The few minutes of stolen sleep were not worth the inevitable lecture and extra duties. Muscles objecting, Jane sat up.
Is it possible for every part of your body to hurt at the same time?
Jane wasn't sure which exercise had earned such stiff protest, so she cursed them all.
Stupid ball.
Her eyes still filled with sleep, Jane stood and blindly shuffled over to her darkened fireplace. Unlit during the warmth of the summer, it provided no light.
It wasn't two steps before her foot connected with an unseen chest. Pain radiated up her leg.
Not again.
With a silent curse Jane pushed the chest up against the unlit hearth. The box may have been compact, but it was hefty. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what was actually in the box. Rocks, perchance?
Stepping carefully, Jane picked her way over to her window, throwing the shutters wide. See? The sun is not up, and there is no shining. The faint light of dawn cast a pale light over the contents of her tower.
What was she going to do with all this… all this… stuff?
Much to her mother's dismay, Jane had never been neat. Or tidy. Or proper. Or feminine. Or...well...anything Lady Turkey was.
It was an old argument.
In the grand scheme of things, Jane supposed her lack of tidiness sat at the very bottom of Adeline's parental concerns- though Jane usually did attempt a modicum of cleanliness. If only for the sake of her toes.
Unfortunately, Jane's room had lately gone from being questionably untidy to a veritable mess. Her mother would surely scold if she saw the disarray.
Looking at the clutter, Jane sighed. It was a miracle she had made it to the window unaccosted. Frightening frippery and dangerously glittering baubles lay strewn about. One wrong step would bring her crashing down.
Just yesterday Dragon had said her room resembled the killing fields of a princess battle.
Jane tried to feel guilty, but found she could not.
This was her mother's fault.
Adeline had the queen's ear. While not dangerous to the layman -as Adeline's ambitions were solely for her daughter- having the queen's ear was quite often inconvenient for Jane.
After all, that dress, that damnable dress.
How had such a generous offer come about? Why the queen's own dress? Surely there had been other frocks available.
Jane had no doubt this, all of this, was her mother's doing.
As it happened, it had also been Adeline who had suggested -oh, so subtly- the king and queen extend an invitation to Kippernia's nobles. This, Jane understood. It was rare for a monarch of another country to pass through on their travels, and shouldn't the kingdom be represented in its entirety? Surely the visiting King Robert would appreciate the grand gesture.
Yes, but was it necessary to invite all of them?
Apparently, so.
The invitations had gone out, with eager response. And why not? The summer had been dry and the roads were easily travelled. As Lady Turnkey was quick to point out, it had been several years since the king had thrown a proper party.
Whatever that meant.
For Jane, a proper party meant work. Lots of it.
The castle itself was not spacious enough to house a large influx of people. The lesser nobility were numerous and -with nothing better do in the country- tended to have large, sprawling families. The nobles alone would overflow the castle.
Then there was the rest of their parties to consider. Valets, footmen, ladies in waiting, guardsmen, companions, visiting knights, merchants. Nevermind their horses and other beasts of burden.
Retinues took up space.
It presented quite a problem, and for a brief shining moment Jane hoped the King would have to call the whole thing off.
No luck.
With her usual efficiency, Lady Turnkey had taken charge, made a plan, and put everyone to work.
No one had been spared.
Even a grumbling Sir Ivon had been given a mop and a stern look from the Lady in Waiting.
Thus after a -sadly short- few days of unsupervised busy work cleaning the weapon shed and wandering about on her own, Jane had been conscripted into whatever chore Adeline deemed needed doing.
The woman was a taskmaster.
The problem of housing was relatively easy to solve. Visiting knights would be billeted in the barracks. Gentry which could not be housed in the castle would stay in town. Many of the more affluent townsfolk were paid a small sum to temporarily vacate their houses for the visiting nobles. Most were happy to do so- they'd get to visit neighboring families and avoid the chaos of a town bursting at the seams.
Jane wished she were so fortunate.
Large tents which were quickly erected around the castle wall to house surplus staff. The tents themselves had been hastily done, but leant a whimsical feel to the upcoming festivities.
Whimsical, my bottom. Her arms still ached with the memory of raising the tent posts.
The housing crisis having been solved, Adeline decreed everything needed to be cleaned.
Everything.
Jane had never known so many soapy bubbles.
But while the work was hard and the work was busy, it was not the source of Jane's ire. Work she could handle. It was distracting. Soothing. Physical activity was a welcome break from her own turbulent (Gunther, always Gunther) thoughts.
No, it wasn't the constant motion and unending tasks that was bothering Jane, it was the gifts.
The courting gifts.
The non-stop ostentatious display of wealth and privilege that was quickly taking over Jane's floor. Each unwanted token a reminder that Jane's mother had chosen to negate years -YEARS!- of work, service, duty, honor, and hard-earned respect by trying to marry her off.
Jane loved her mother, but -oh, that dangerous "but"-
It hurt.
It was hard to even think about.
Many things have been hard to think about as of late.
She pushed the thought away. Later. Jane was getting very good at later.
No, it wasn't the work that irked Jane.
It was the GIFTS.
It had started off innocuously enough. First it had been flowers, then some sticky candies that made her jaw hurt, then a few trinkets, some useless jewelry, a book or two of poetry.
Poetry! What knight reads poetry?
Jane supposed she should be flattered a suitor knew (and approved?) she could read.
Still, it was hard not to be resentful.
Perhaps if it had just been ONE suitor, -the touted Algernon- Jane might have been able to handle it with good cheer. Surely Jane could scare off one man?
Unfortunately it wasn't just one suitor. No, no of course not. It was a myriad of suitors, strangers from every far flung corner of kingdom. Old, young, tall, short? Jane had no idea who they were, they were strangers, one and all.
Yet somehow, these ...men… wanted to marry her. HER. Jane Turnkey.
Each one sending piles and piles of useless baubles and various finery in an attempt to win her favor.
She had a hard time wrapping her mind around it.
At first, Jane had found it very droll. She'd laughed at it with good humor. Laughed until she had snorted and her sides hurt.
Honestly, who would want to marry a female squire? Surely her mannish dress and unlady-like mannerisms would be abhorrent to any future husband or mother-in-law.
Then the gifts had started arriving en masse.
Pins, scarves, beaded shawls, ribbons of lace, silk slippers, candied fruits, pots of honey, sweet biscuits.
A whole case of exotic-looking fruits which had gone sour in the summer sun.
Bolts of shining cloth, seashells, a rainbow of dyed threads, a clutch of gleaming needles, beads.
On and on it went.
It was all very...generous. And irritating. And unsettling. Deeply, deeply unsettling.
Adeline and her meddling.
Apparently, along with invitations to the ball, her mother had sent a very discreet notice that Jane had come of marriageable age. At least, that is what Jester said. Admittedly, he was not clear on the details, but he was in a unique position to hear rumors of the court.
Still… as much Jane loved Jester, -he'd been her friend for ages, after all- she wasn't sure she trusted this particular recounting. Jester may have an ear for gossip, but he also tended to downplay the more upsetting things he heard. Things that might upset Jane, specifically.
If Adeline had indeed been discreet as Jester implied, Jane would eat Jester's hat. It was far more likely her mother had gleefully written personalized letters (inaccurately) touting Jane's various virtues, draped said letters with streamers of colored fabric, and had heralds sing rhyming ballads to the nobles in an invitation to court Jane.
Discreet. Surely not.
Because now it seemed every second and third son in the kingdom was showering her with gifts and promises of love-and the bloody lot wasn't even here yet.
The first gifts had trickled in within a few days.
Then the trickle became a steady stream.
Then a flood.
The king's guests wouldn't be arriving for nearly a week, yet Jane was already drowning in useless trinkets.
In her exasperation, Jane had just stopped opening them. There was whole pile of ignored gifts which had been tossed hastily by her bed. She tried to feel guilty, but found she could not.
I didn't ask for any of this.
Her tower room was starting to look like a storage closet. A very messy, unkempt storage closet.
Jane sniffed, Did I miss one of those fruits?
She didn't know what to do with it all. The sheer volume of ...stuff… was making it difficult for her to navigate through her room.
Yes, this was definitely her mother's fault. Jane felt no compunction at her bitterness.
Jane glanced around, resolving to sort through the mess later. It would be one thing to not know which suitor had sent which gift. It would be a completely different thing to admit she hadn't even opened most of them.
That would not do. Her mother would positively kill her.
She sighed resignedly, twisting her hair into a messy braid.
Eager to escape, Jane turned to leave. In her haste, Jane didn't notice the folded piece of parchment which had been shoved under her door. Jane stepped on the letter, sliding forward. With a painful collision of flailing limbs, Jane's knee made hard contact with the wood.
Jane sat there for a moment, stunned. What was it now?
The parchment lay there, mocking her.
Ugh, truly. This is ridiculous.
Jane didn't need this. She was tired, hurting, and sorely lacking in patience.
Now, to add insult to injury -because the gifts were a bit insulting, weren't they?- her knee throbbed painfully with each beat of her heart. Jane stood up carefully, testing her weight. The joint creaked a bit, but no damage done. It would be black and blue by lunch, but it would not impede her movement. Leaning carefully, Jane picked up the offending piece of parchment.
Ah, another love letter. Champion.
With a roll of her eyes and a pained groan, Jane broke the seal and began to read.
"Dearest Jane,
You are the dawn,
Birds sing at the thought of you
Men can hope thanks to your consistency..."
Oh bloody hell.
Clearly none of these sallow-faced suitors had anything better to do with their time than write drivel.
Not bothering to finish the letter, Jane tossed it aside and opened her door.
This courting business has stopped being a nuisance and become a blasted DANGER…
When Jane stepped outside, she found the courtyard bustling with activity.
It was still early. What was going on? Had her mother found more men to conscript into action? Who were these men?
Gunther is back!
…
That is…
Bother.
The patrol is back!
Come now. Who was she hoping to fool? Herself? Jane bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. Gunther had been her constant companion for years now. Of course she would miss him in his absence!
And if there was more? It was ok to harbor a private...fondness for her fellow squire. Camaraderie was expected among the knights. Who cared if that camaraderie glimmered a little more than it had before? No one needed to know.
She could think on it later.
With a spring in her step, Jane set out to find (Gunther) Sir Theodore.
As it happened, Jane did not see Gunther until lunch. She found him -not that she'd been looking for him- at the table with Smithy and Jester. Pepper was bustling around the kitchen, their supper not quite done.
"Hello, Jane!" Smithy smiled in greeting. Hearing her, Gunther suddenly tensed, his smile freezing in a strange grimace. It was similar to his "I just swallowed a frog" look he had almost perfected. But is that all? For a moment he looked a bit...caught. Almost panicked. Like an animal in a trap.
Odd.
Then his expression cleared. Jane could almost hear his invisible armor snapping back into place.
"Good afternoon, Smithy. Jester." Jane sat down at the table. Secret or not, it felt right to have Gunther back.
"Gunther, welcome back. How was patrol?"
His expression was inscrutable. For a few moments, he sat there, staring at her blankly. When he didn't answer, she tried again.
"Gunther?"
"What?" Gunther shifted nervously. Under his sunburned cheeks, Gunther paled.
"I asked, how was patrol?" she repeated.
"Hot."
Jester laughed, slapping Gunther on the back.
"Just hot? Dear lord, just hot." Jester turned his attention to Jane. "You should have SMELLED them when they got back last night. Half the patrol looked like roasted pigs, red and peeling. But all of them smelled -the entire lot of them- like just like a cross between the stables, the pigsty, and cheese." Jane grimaced. "They must have suffered cruelly under the sun to produce such an aromatic fetor." Jester chuckled, nudging Gunther with his elbow. "Hot indeed. And here I thought you had the soul of a poet."
If Gunther looked pale before, he looked positively ghastly now. The blood drained out of his face so quickly, Jane wouldn't have been surprised to see it pool out around his ankles. Looking everywhere and nowhere, the muscles in his jaw clenched and released.
Was he going to vomit?
"Are you quite alright, Gunther? You don't seem yourself." Hypocrite. "Are you unwell?"
Gunther looked at her for a moment before answering. His eyes seemed to search her face for...something...but what, she did not know.
"Gunther?" she prompted again.
His eyes narrowed slightly, so quick she almost missed it. Having found (or not found) whatever he was looking for, he visibly relaxed.
"Yes, sorry." The tension seemed to drain out of him. He appeared both relieved and disappointed at the same time. He took a deep breath. "I suppose I am just tired. We did not get in until late last night, and this morning Sir Theodore had us preparing the stables for our visitors." He rubbed at one eye tiredly. "This afternoon we'll be putting up a temporary paddock down by the lake for any overflow." Gunther grumbled. "Didn't we just have a ball?"
Pepper appeared, interrupting them. She put a platter of fruit, cheese, and bread before them.
"Give me a moment and I will bring out your soup. I'm a bit busy right now, so you'll have to make do with what I have on hand." Pepper hustled back into the kitchen, calling a friendly "Sorry!" behind her.
No one seemed to mind. The friends chatted while they picked at the simple fare. ell, Jane, Jester, and Smithy chatted. Gunther remained strangely quiet, making furtive glances in Jane's direction. Maybe he really was sick? Heat stroke perhaps?
Pepper hurried back out, placing a dented tureen and a stack of bowls on the table. She frowned.
"Spoons!" Pepper clapped her hands at her own forgetfulness and rushed back into the kitchen.
"Pepper, you will be getting help soon, won't you?" Jane asked when Pepper returned with the missing utensils.
"Oh yes, Jane." Pepper flopped down on the bench beside Jane. "I have several girls from town coming in before the first batch of people are set to arrive. OH! That reminds me!" Pepper stood suddenly and scurried back into the kitchen.
"I do so wish I had her energy." Jester smiled at the retreating figure. Energy, indeed. With a wink he tucked into his soup.
A few moments later, Pepper returned, arms laden with packages. She set them on the table with a flourish.
"These are for you, Petal! Your mother left them here for you."
Jane reddened.
How absolutely embarrassing.
Not in front of Gunther. Please not in front of Gunther.
"No, please no more, Pepper. I cannot stand another package. Take them away. Bury them in the dung pile, burn them, give them away. Anything." Jane knew she was whining, but she found it hard to care. "Just no. I cannot."
Jane pushed her soup away. "I suddenly find my appetite ruined."
"Now Jane," Pepper scolded, "Don't you think you are being a bit dramatic? I think it is delightful. Your mother was right, you should accept them with grace, like a lady." Pepper set her chin in her hand, and with a most confusing look of slyness, gave Jane one of those odd, furtive smiles. Jane opened her mouth to protest -lady indeed- when Pepper winked. WINKED!
What?
"Squire or not, Jane," Pepper continued, "you are still a Lady."
Then Jester -that traitor- giggled. An actual giggle. Jane suppressed the urge to kick him under the table. She could tell he was working up a joke about this. Or a song. He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Let it be anything but a SONG.
Smithy, smart man that he was, only smiled sympathetically.
"I don't understand." Gunther looked confused. "What is going on? Why is Jane getting gifts?" Jester barked out a sharp laugh.
"You haven't heard?" Jester asked in disbelief. Lovely. Gunther shook his head. "Oh-ho! You'll appreciate this. Our dear Lady Jane is being courted." Jane groaned, dropping her head to the table. Pepper put a reassuring hand on her back.
"By who?" Gunther's voice was strangely devoid of emotion.
"Ah, that is the best part!" Jester was positively giddy now. Gossip was his stock and trade, performance was his art, and now Jester held a captive audience of one. His voice dropped down to conspiratorial whisper. "Jane is being courted by everyone."
"What?" Gunther sounded more confused than before. "Everyone, who? Like you?" Jester's resulting grin threatened to split his face.
"Oh dear me, no. Why the great and honorable Algodon and countless others, of course!"
"Algernon." Jane corrected from her place on the table.
"A yes, the fair Algernon," Jester conceded. "It is clear he holds a special place in your heart, as you remember him so fondly." Jane was not in the mood for Jester's teasing. Maybe she should kick him under the table. He deserved it. Jane sat back up, giving Jester her most withering look. He blinked blithely in return.
"Stop it, Jester. It isn't funny."
"Oh I beg to differ! It is not just funny, it is absolutely, amazingly, atrociously hilarious."
Gunther's expression remained one of confusion.
"Quiet, Jester." Smithy interrupted with a frown. For a usually perceptive person, Jester was being rather obtuse. "Lady Turnkey," he explained, "has decided to use King Robert's visit as a means to introduce Jane into society."
"Introduce! My left foot." Jane cut in. "My mother has decided to truss me up like a fattened sow, parade me up and down the castle on a jeweled leash, and sell me off to the highest bidder. These," she gestured to the pile before them, "are an attempt to curry my favor." Gunther's eyes followed the frantic movements Jane's hand. "It has become rather annoying, actually. My room is messier than Dragon's cave. Just this morning I stubbed my toe and slipped on another letter." Jane rubbed her knee. "It hurt."
"Oh." Gunther looked gobsmacked. Jane quite understood. She'd been feeling much the same all week. Jane looked at the packages accusingly. "Algernon is one of the supposed nobles in King Robert's retinue...he sent me a rose bush."
Gunther cocked his head in question.
"What is wrong with getting roses?"
"Nothing I suppose, but he didn't send roses, he sent me an entire rose bush -the size of a horse- covered with a tarp, in a cart filled with dirt. What, tell me what, is anyone supposed to do with an entire BUSH?" Jane's voice held a note of panic. "I gave it to Rake, of course, but it is the sheer audacity of the thing! Most improper."
The group sat in silence for a moment.
"Well…" Pepper ventured, "Aren't you going to open them?"
"No."
"You will have to eventually, you know."
"I don't want to."
"Jane, y-"
"Later."
"Petal…."
"No." Jane knew her mother would never approve of this childishness. Well, she isn't here to see me pout. Pepper gave Jane a level stare.
Blast and bother. Pepper and her evil eye.
"If you insist!" Jane threw her hands in the air. Grabbing the nearest package with a huff, Jane inspected the contents.
The first package contained a selection of ribbons for her hair. Pepper mewled in appreciation. Jane tossed them aside. The second a rather gaudy and very heavy rosary. Next was a wimple. A wimple? Heavy and course, Jane was aghast at the ugly thing.
What were these men thinking?
The fourth was a silver brush and matching mirror. Then a pot of odd-smelling paste which Gunther identified as henna. The last package was more hair ribbons.
"Well," Jester quipped, glancing at the array before them, "it seems they've heard about your hair."
"Thank you, Jester. Most helpful." Jane rolled her eyes. "I have no use for any of this!"
"It seems," Smithy observed, "that these men know nothing about you." Gunther nodded in agreement.
"Yes! Exactly! Which is precisely why it is all so funny." Really. Since when did Jester miss the mark on a joke? Since when did he fail to realize when something was NOT funny?
Jane couldn't help but wonder if Jester was being argumentative on purpose. She felt her simmering annoyance boil over into hot, bubbling anger.
"No, Jester. That is why it is decidedly not funny." Jane gave him a pointed look. "What if my mother decides I must accept one of their suits? What if she does marry me off to some far corner of the kingdom?"
Jester's eyes grew wide in surprise.
Honestly? Has the thought never crossed his mind? Is everything a joke to him?
Angry now, Jane gathered her items to leave. It was time to return to her duties anyway.
The next morning started very much the same. A quick rap, a tired response, a toppled tower of trinkets.
Later, I'll do it later.
Later was apparently not in Jane's immediate future. In honor of the royal visit, the king had decided to hang the castle's ceremonial shields. Jane was to supervise the polishing, but two of the younger squires made a competition of it, and many of the shields had to be redone. The work took all morning.
Lunch was a quiet affair. With the rest of the staff busy elsewhere, Jane ate her lunch in the kitchen, watching Pepper work. It was nice to spend some time with her friend.
There were, of course, more courting gifts to be addressed.
I suppose I should get this over with.
The first package contained the expected hair ribbons. Jane had quite the collection now. Humming in appreciation, Pepper chose a length of blue and wove it into Jane's braid while Jane moved on to the next gift.
The second was a large bundle of fox pelts. They were beautiful, but Jane was saddened by the loss of life. Well, I suppose this one is a no. Though a husband who was often gone hunting meant she'd be left to her own devices. I'll have to make sure Dragon doesn't see these. She set them aside.
The third was a large well-made ladle. She had to laugh at that one. Any man that expected her to cook would meet an unfortunate and untimely end. Jane quickly turned the ladle over to Pepper.
The last package was a simple wooden box. Opening it, Jane's breath caught in her throat. Pepper leaned over her shoulder, concerned.
"Jane?"
Inside the box, wrapped in soft cloth, lay a finely-wrought dagger.
Oh.
...Marvelous.
Jane lifted the blade from its box and freed it from its leather sheath.
Simply adorned, the pommel lacked tawdry display of gems which adorned the globe of her own dagger. The handle was wrapped in simple leather and the blade had been polished to a high shine. With a flick of her wrist, Jane tossed it in the air, catching it nimbly.
"A dagger, Jane?"
"It is very well-made, Pepper." Jane ran her fingers over the blade. "Sharp. Nicely balanced. It is excellent craftmanship." She set down the dagger, picking up the sheath and turning it in her hands. "This too." Jane had a hard time containing her surprise. It was simple. Beautiful and without pretension. "This is wonderful."
Pepper made a high-pitched noise of excitement.
"Who is it from, Jane? Who is it from?!" Behind her, Pepper was practically vibrating. Jane pawed through the wooden box, looking for a card. Underneath the fabric was a small square of parchment. On it was a crudely drawn sun and moon.
"Is there a signature?" asked Pepper.
Not finding one, Jane turned it over, looking for a crest, a seal, anything.
"I do not know, Pepper. It must have fallen off." The two women spent a few minutes checking under the table, on the stairs, where the gifts had been stacked -but there was nothing to be found.
How disappointing, I would have liked to at least say thank you.
With an appreciative touch, Jane replaced the dagger back in its box, and went back to her duties.
The next morning, four days before the nobles were to arrive, Jane and Rake had been assigned to dragon dung duty.
"Ha! Duty! Doody! Get it? Hilarious." Dragon laughed uproariously.
When a dragon laughed uproariously, he roared. Literally. Small bits of ash floated down around them.
Despite her best efforts, Jane had never quite broken Dragon of his habit of going so close to the castle. Loud and Proud! ...and all that. Jane would have brushed it off as part of his animal nature, but when an animal can talk, it changed things. Or at least, it should.
Still, while a bit gross, Dragon's dung had never really bothered Jane. Rake had always been quick to relocate any messes, happy to mix the dung into his compost piles.
Her mother was less forgiving. The pile had to go, and go NOW.
"GO! HA!" Dragon snorted.
Dragon humor. Jane smiled.
Unfortunately, Dragon's levity was not an indication he willing to help with the dung's relocation. Flying off for greener pastures, Dragon left Jane and Rake to manage on their own.
By lunch, Jane and Rake were tired, hot, and really, really, really, really dirty. They sat in the shade of Rake's sunflowers, away from the rest of their group.
Pumpkins? Why do I smell of pumpkins? Jane sniffed. Where would Dragon find them this time of year?
It was probably better not to know.
After a few minutes, Pepper brought them their meal and the next batch of courting gifts. Most were wrapped in burlap or leather, but there at the bottom was a plain wooden box.
Pepper squeaked with anticipation. Sitting at a safe distance upwind, Pepper settled herself in the grass and waited expectantly.
It was the usual fare. A necklace, a comb, a shawl, some lace. No ribbons today, though-that's something.
Jane saved the box for last.
Inside lay a pair of light brown leather bracers. Like the dagger before them, they were well-made and without gratuitous embellishment, save for stitching at the cuffs.
As dirty as she was, Jane was afraid to touch them.
"Let me see! Let me see!" Pepper bounced in place. Jane put them on, noting the small card that lay in the box beneath. Another sun and moon. Again, there was no name or calling card attached.
A bit too large for her bare wrists, the wrist guards would fit well enough over a long shirt or padding. Though she was loath to admit it, Jane was pleased. Impressed, even. Jane's collection of armor was minimal at best: most of what she did have were cast-offs from her growing male counterparts. To have something new…
Jane would just have to break these in.
With a small, secret smile, Jane repacked the gifts and went back to her meal.
Three days before the first nobles were to arrive, Jane woke before the dawn. Already dressed, she opened the door just as her mother raised her fist to knock.
"Good morning, Mother!" Jane greeted her mother with a smile.
"Dear Lord, Jane. You nearly frightened me to death." Adeline pressed her hand to her chest.
"I am sorry." Jane pressed a quick kiss to her mother's cheek. "I shall see you later!" Flustered by the flurry of activity, Adeline watched as her daughter bounced down the stairs. She did not notice the new dagger which gleamed dully at her Jane's hip.
More work, more chores, more courting gifts.
How many nobles are in this kingdom anyway?
To be fair, Jane was not really paying attention to who had sent what. The bombardment of hair-related gifts could all be from the same fetished suitor.
Well,
There is a thought.
Jane made a mental note to clean and organize the gifts.
Eventually.
Jane wanted nothing to do with the gifts.
Except for the boxes. Maybe those, --and perhaps the man who sent them?- were different.
Not that she was being swayed. No. Absolutely not. Jane had enough matters of the heart to occupy her.
Is that what Gunther is now? A matter of the heart?
Jane wasn't sure. Much like the mess in her room, her feelings about Gunther would eventually need sorting.
Later, later, later.
But it was nice to get something other than useless trinkets.
By some quirk of luck, nearly everyone was available for lunch. Grinning from ear to ear, Pepper dropped a large earthen vase of odd-looking flowers on the table. The base of each flower bottom was green and bulbous, and covered in spines. Atop the bulb was a crown of spiked purple petals. They looked...painful.
Lethal.
Hung on a piece of twine, was a card with the now-familiar symbol.
"Pepper, what is this?" Jester had to lean back to see her. "Are we to eat these for lunch? I am not a goat."
"You are so silly," she replied, "these lovelies are for Jane, of course!" Pepper had that sly smile again.
"What are they?" Jane asked. "These spines are wicked."
"Why they are thistles!" Rake looked delighted. "Aren't they handsome? Difficult to harvest, but they make for a pretty bouquet, for sure."
"Thistles?" Jane's face must have shown her confusion. Thistles?
Someone sent me a bunch of weeds?
Does that make me a goat?
"Yes, thistles! Lovely color and interesting to look at, but full of spines. Painful to touch and almost impossible to get rid of once established."
"Why, Jane," Gunther quipped, "they are just like you!" Jester and Smithy laughed along with him. Jane couldn't see Gunther around the large display, but she had no doubt he was wearing the familiar smirk. She wished she could see it.
"I think they are wonderful," said Pepper.
Of course she would.
Jane didn't know what to think. They were beautiful, in their own way.
"At least they aren't roses?" Jester set everyone laughing again.
Har.
Jane wasn't sure how she felt about Gunther teasing her. Previously, such ribbing was a cornerstone of their relationship. Jane would insult Gunther, Gunther would insult her back. It was familiar. It was comfortable. It was predictable.
But their relationship had been most unpredictable as of late.
She'd barely seen him since his return.
In truth, preparations for the royal visit had kept her rather occupied. Jane hadn't had much time to consider the new and uncomfortable feelings he evoked.
Uncomfortable or no, Jane missed him.
What does Gunther make of all this tomfoolery?
Does he care?
Staring at her flowers, lost in thought, Jane forgot to open the rest of her gifts.
Two days remaining.
If anything, the staff was busier.
It had been a long boring morning of menial tasks. On several occasions Jane had felt her mind wandering.
Would there be anything from her mystery suitor today?
Boils and badgers.
When had that become something to look forward to?
As if she needed to be pulled in any more directions.
Distraction, let's call it a pleasant distraction.
Jane didn't have time to stop for lunch, instead grabbing an apple and a hunk of cheese as she passed through the kitchen. Pepper's help had arrived, so Jane grabbed the pile of presents (smaller now) and took it all up to her tower.
Ignoring the other items for the now-familiar wooden box, Jane sat on her bed.
Please, let it be hair ribbons.
Please, please let it be something atrocious. Or useless. Or gaudy.
It was not. Inside lay a pair of greaves, the matched set to the gauntlets. They stood in stark contrast to the glittering detritus of her room because they weren't atrocious, or useless, or gaudy.
The plain brown shin gaurds were exactly right. Beautiful in their simplicity, the skillfully made armor was perfect. Jane felt tears prick her eyes. She was glad she was alone in her room and not in the courtyard with her friends.
If only…
With the greaves in her lap, Jane ate alone.
The day before the arrival of their royal visitors was flurry of activity.
I could almost wish they were here already, if only for the break.
Almost.
Mid-day found her in the courtyard, sitting in silence with her counterparts. Everyone looked tired, haggard, and quite done with the hubbub. Even Jester's hat seemed wilted.
Except for Pepper of course.
Pepper bustled out with her usual exuberance. Placing their food and Jane's courting gifts on the table, and hurried back to the kitchen.
Jane watched her go. At least some things don't change.
Pawing through the parcels for a familiar box, Jane found a small bundle wrapped in twine, marked with a sun and moon.
Inside on a leather thong was a compact stylized carving of green jade. It was a dragon.
A dragon.
It made her chest squeeze painfully.
Jane was… affected? Pleased? Touched? She didn't know. She'd think about it later. Later.
Jane looked up to see her friends watching her. She wondered if she had spoken aloud. Pocketing the small tile dragon, Jane reached for the other presents.
It was the usual. Slippers, a metal diadem, a necklace, the prerequisite adornments for her hair.
The last package was rather bulky. Tearing into it, Jane revealed a very large stack of swaddling blankets, a christening gown, and a small metal rattle.
Oh. Oh, dear.
Well...well this is a horrifying development.
Up until now, Jane -already distracted by Gunther- had been so annoyed by the prospect of suitors, wrapped up in the inconvenience of the thing, this particular thought had never occurred to her.
That is, it had, but at the same time, it hadn't.
The world narrowed, constricting to a singular point.
Suddenly, it all became frighteningly, terrifyingly real.
It was no longer funny, or irritating, or annoying, or any such thing.
It was reality.
This was to be her life.
Jester, who had thus far managed to contain himself with a snicker or two, laughed aloud. He opened his mouth to make what would no doubt be some cutting remark or another. Jane felt her anger rising.
"Somehow Jane, I have difficulty imagining you as a broodma-" Jane didn't wait for him to finish. Standing up, Jane grabbed a handful of cloth and gown and threw it HARD into his face.
"SHUT UP!" Jane shrieked at Jester. "SHUT. UP. There is nothing, NOTHING funny about this, Jester." Her voice dripped with rancor. "You are supposed to be my friend."
Not waiting for his response, Jane fled.
The following morning, Adeline's quick rap resonated through her room.
"Jane, dearest!" Her mother sounded excited. "They're here!"
A/N: Smithy is my Ferb.