*I don't own jane and the dragon or its characters

Originally I thought this would only be a two chapter story, but now I've written three chapters, and I don't think it will all be solved in such a short span of time, so I'm hoping for the best. I like writing about Smithy, even though there is so much we do not know about him. I think he is observant, and sometimes sarcastic, so I'll try my best to betray him properly.

In the royal garden, Jester told his stories to the King, who was enjoying the sun before he had to go and listen to the townspeople's problems.

"... A rose is a rose I suppose, to those who know it has no nose. I close the door forevermore on those I cannot face. I call from grace, for everything that had been said, is forever a disgrace"

The King twirled how fingers on a half-hearted fashion. "Excellent! Well done, but I am tired of the tragedies, I want something with a happy ending"

Like this creative that he was, he crafted a story as though from nothing, and thought of familiar people who would serve his story purposes.

"There once was a blacksmith who fell in love with a flame. Now to others it may have sounded like divination, but in actuality it was not the fire he had loved, but a girl who reminded him of the flame, for her hair often more than not fluttered and waved about in the wind like a spark turned flame. Her mind was sharp, as well as her manner tempestuous, but he was of a more gentle sort and found amusement in her ways. He knew there was little he could do, for she was above his station, except perhaps do what he usually did, and deal with metal.

An idea came to him, that if he could not become or a control a flame, then he must become like those who could withstand its heat. He formed himself a suit of armor, similar to what the girl would wear, and was determined to be her compliment. She hated him immediately, for she stood alone and needed no one, he knew this, but he expressed his intentions, and still she was the tempest he knew. In respect, he challenged her to an honorable duel, and if he should win, then he would get one wish, but if she won, then she may kill him.

With his armor and shield, he guarded and evaded, while she struck him with various blows. After a while, blood from cuts ran along his face and arms, but he stood his ground. Her stubborn heart began to see reason, but she would not fail, or else he would win, and she would become a slave to his wish. This went on until the evening, until fatigue got the better of her, and he was left standing as the winner. He kneeled before her, ready with his wish, and she hated him more than ever.

However, she was surprised by his wish which was to be able to stand by her in silence, to be her strength and shield even if he knew she could protect herself, but nothing more. Her eyes widened at this, for she was sure he intended to take her as his wife, and she lose her way of life. Humbled by his loyalty and strength, she agreed to this, and in time she fell in love with him, for she could not love by halves and they were married. Together, they battled enemies in the battlefield, him deflecting blows, her striking foes. Together, they strengthened and loved, as equals and each other's compliments"

"This is a new class of story, yes? It is unheard of"

"Yes my Lord, but it could happen, other impossible things have happened before"

"Yes, now tell me the story of the Roman tragedy again"

"Yes, my lord "

"I am so hungry I could eat a horse"

"Ugh, not if you spent as much time mucking their stables"

Jane flashed her friend that beguiling look which he knew meant nothing more than her usual mischievous. If only she knew how burdensome such a look would play over in his mind hours later, when it was thought of as nothing but a look in her wonderful mind. "Then I am simply hungry, for anything but liver"

Smithy would not test it, it was not the time.

Meal time as always was lively, and was still the tradition the young staff kept over the years. Smithy allowed himself to be content for moment, seeing as all was well, and how he could delight in the happiness of his friends. After they had eaten the evening meal of mutton and simple vegetables, they showered praise upon pale cook. "The vegetables were wonderful… Pepper." smiled the gardener at his petite wife.

Rake neither concealed his devotion nor adoration of beloved. The pair might have been married for a few years, but they still were shy when it came to public displays of affection. "Oh Rake," she whispered, gifting him with a kiss on his forehead. "you are such a wonderful man."

Was it not natural they would feel adoration for one another?

Across from Smithy, Jane and Jester were laughing at some joke the jester had said in her ear. There was no grace in her laughter, it was sloppy, unlady like, and her face scrunched up in what would have appeared to be great pain if she was not smiling. Smithy stood, his face like the calm before a storm, and with the excuse of tiredness left before dessert could be offered. Envy colored his palette, tainting the pleasure such a meal could bring. With heavy steps, he escaped to his dwelling next to that stables.

At his departure, the corners of the fool's mouth turned upward, and he continued as though nothing was amiss.

Smithy was above feeling, stoicism was his shield, but somewhere there were hairline cracks. If he had continued his studies, then perhaps his mind would have been too cluttered to weaken. When did he become this way?

Who was he kidding, he could hardly remember the way those lines and squiggles became letters, which flooded and drown together are words, and bodies of texts which fill codex after codex. He was human after all, how disappointing it would have been to his father. This made him smile a little, his father was a little less than human.

"Meow" spoke his kindly friend.

"What adventures have you had since I saw you last?"

With her tail waving about, she mewed again. She was good company, she spoke very little, even if he would never understand what she had said.

"I see, well have do not wait on my account. As you were Mercy."

The sound of mice no longer disturbed Smithy, for the starved cat he had found not long ago, was busy at her duty. No longer were the rib bones visible, or her eyes so cautious, but with a sense of belonging she settled in the castle grounds, keeping it pest free to that best of her ability. With grace, the tawny feline walked about the beams, searching for its latest prey in the regal way such creatures carried themselves. It must be wonderful to have claws climb, with fur to keep warm, and the freedom of defiant independence which they lived by. If course, it was mostly admiration, for he did not mind being a man, except when it was distressing.

The bed of hay he called a bed reminded him of his boyhood days before his removal to the castle. Perhaps his mother was sitting before a fire, humming the ancient songs of her country land, nursing the children of his neighbors, or whispering her dreams and thoughts to the hills and mountains. Without his work attire, he was just Jethro Junior, the pig farmer he was born to be, the person he was meant to be. Work, food, and rest, there had to be more than just the repeat of daily chore. What of the world? Its creatures he longed to acquaint himself with? With all the sweet figs to eat? Or the freedom in the leisure of exploration?

Life, its nuances did not seem to be enough at times, and there was longing for excitements and perhaps even…he would not mention.

Before he could make himself sick with the drink, Pig squealed, waking him from whatever it was he planned to do. "I should not, it would not do to be inebriated while on duty, but what of now Pig?"

She rolled around, looking back at her owner, then repeatedly nuzzled his hand. "Where are my manners, you must be in want of dinner. I will be right back"

In triumph, she snorted. Mercy heard what had occurred, and spoke in her animal language to Pig. They both knew something had to done.

He was grateful his Pig was not picky. Vegetable peelings and roots, scraps from the royal table, cut grass from the garden, Pig had a varied diet. As usual, Smithy made his way to receive goods for his pet when he was met by a familiar face. "There you are Smithy, you left so quickly"

"Rake, what are you doing down there?"

"I am talking to that flowers, they prefer nighttime stories over compliments"

"Alright, well I am about to retrieve Pigs dinner"

"Here, take these apples, she will enjoy the sweetness"

"Thank you"

"Say, are you alright? I mean, you seem quieter than usual"

"Conversation escapes me and sticks to Jester more often than not"

"Alright, well goodnight"

"Hopefully. Goodnight"

Sleep was unkind to Smithy, and he woke in a cold sweat. The scenes were horrific, the sounds and smells haunted him even then. Beside him, Pig slept soundly which eased him a little. Never, he promised, would he be like him, to destroy without feeling, to cause trouble for others. Everyone else should have been asleep, and an evening stroll might do him some good.

Crisp and humid, the season spoke with the cricket's song, the fullness of that moon, and the scents of evening blooms. Everyone should have been asleep, but he spotted her in the darkness. Her figure kissed by the moon, walked back and forth on the battlements. It was her turn to do the night watch. He would not disturb her, he should not… but he could not sleep.

"The moon is so bright this evening" Jane whispered to no one.

A chuckle beside her made her flush in embarrassment, and body tense and ready to strike. "The moon is bright every evening, except when the clouds shield her."

Relieved it was not Gunther, she relaxed, but only a little. "I know, I am almost blinded by its beauty. Why are you not sleeping? You have much work to do in that morning so you not?"

He stood at a distance, so that his eyes could not betray him. "Sleep escapes me at the moment."

"It happens to me from time to time, and then I am left laying there, thinking about past embarrassments or mistakes, but tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it yet. I am comforted by this, and I try a little harder not to mess up."

"I know it can be difficult at times, to deal with the injustices around you, but it is admirable to see your hard work is not in vain. Well done Jane"

"Thank you Smithy"

The scent of cherry blossoms carried by breeze, passed by them. A sense of quiet understanding was there, but neither would speak of it. Call it fear, call it duty, or whatever words are used by those who allowed nations or winds, or walls of some sort to stand before them. It was not the time. When would it ever be?

"I should go," his gentle voice allowed. "it would not look well if Sir Theodore saw you slacking in your duties"

"I am still able to watch, there is no distraction in our conversation."

There were books and ballads which could better describe what he wanted to say, but he was not a hero or a nobleman who spoke with grandness, but a humble blacksmith. "I am not concerned by your ability to do your duty Jane, but of the propriety of our meeting. It would not look well to be seen together under these circumstances."

She looked upon his face and understood. There was no jest or meanness laced in his words, but respect and sincerity. "Oh, perhaps it is best. Goodnight Smithy"

"Goodnight… Jane"

That night he slept a sleep he had not known for a very long time.