A/N: Hello Boils and Ghouls (I'm just getting a kick out of writing that)! Sorry it took so long. I was REALLY going to bear down on this yesterday, but then my mom got the movie "Julie & Julia" so we had to watch it then dance around the kitchen to Talking Head's "And She Was" while eating creme bruliee (is that how you spell it?) with whipped cream and raspberries. Oh my life is so hard! Note the sarcasm.

So, this story is written as a great tragedy, which to the real family of Sarah, it is. Oo, I gave it away. This is a really obscure ghost story anyway, so I'll give you another hint. Her old home is now a bed and breakfast. There. that's all you get until the end.

I don't own this genius, thank you very much.

Dragon was sneezing again. This time, there was nothing plotting against him, he was just sneezing. It seemed it was a different type of illness. Not quite the sniffles, and not quite curly-tail. As far as anyone could tell, it wasn't dangerous, it just blackened a lot of greenery.

Jane looked for every cure she could find, and eventually resigned herself to the fact that they would have to wait out the sneezing. They had admired her efforts though, but were glad she had stopped searching. It had been a little annoying.

"Dragon, do you feel any better?" asked Jane.

"A little," replied the reptile. He promptly lifted his head and sneezed into the sky, the flames harmless. "Alright, not really."

"Well, get better soon, patrol is boring when you just have a horse," laughed Jane.

"I'll try," grumbled the great beast.

"Champion." With a bright smile, Jane hurried off to practice archery, leaving Dragon miserable and sneezing.

It happened like that every day. It was a routine soon. Jane would ask if he felt any better. Dragon would affirm he did and then admit he didn't. Jane would tell him to get well soon, and Dragon would promise to try. This routine lasted for a long while, until eventually, Dragon was nearly over it, enough that he posed no threat to any passing birds (aside from an occasional sneeze). And yet, he didn't have the energy to fly or walk back up to his caves.

And as such, they allowed him to remain in the castle overnight some nights. And it is on one of those nights that our story truly begins.

Dragon lay there, asleep, and dreaming of cows, just outside the tower in which Jane slept. Jester had fallen asleep in the dining hall, because it was chilly, and there was no place for a fire in his room. It was warmer in the dining hall…

A tingle. A tiny tingle.

Jane slept peacefully, dreaming abstract dreams of knights and dragons and birds for some reason and jesters and lutes. The dragon was playing the lute while the jester flew with the birds, the knight sitting and commenting on it.

A tickle. A flaring of nostrils.

Lavinia was tucked deep under the sheets, wishing her fire was larger, it was kind of cold in there. Oh well, playing with Jane tomorrow would warm her up nice and quick.

Breath. Breath. Breath…SNEEZE!

Dragon woke, and just in time to see the tower start to go up in flames. He started screaming, and the rest of the castle woke, and began to form a bucket brigade to put out the fire while Dragon went to Jane out.

It was getting very warm in Jane's dream. The lute had caught on fire the Dragon was playing it so hard. An ember had dropped on her, but she brushed it off. Nothing could hurt her in a dream, could it?

The fire was out, and Dragon held a charred and dead body. Jane had burnt to death. Jester had only survived because there was nowhere for him to light a fire so he had gone to sleep somewhere else.

Dragon was inconsolable, especially at the funeral. Sadly, he hadn't sneezed after that last one, and instead cried as they spoke the Lord's Prayer and lowered her body into the ground. The Princess hugged Dragon's snout, tears also rippling down her cheeks.

All the rest were heartbroken too, and gave their own. Jester wore black, and even didn't wear the festive cap, letting his blond hair be shown to all, Rake had made a bouquet of Jane's favorite flowers which he tossed into the grave after her. Gunther had put her practice sword beside her in the coffin, Pepper had prepared Jane's favorite foods and those alone. Jane's mother, unable to watch, had to be held back from leaping into the grave after her precious daughter, her father merely stared at the deep hole, sobbing quietly.

Even Magnus showed some compassion. He hadn't even thought of trying to collect dragon's tears, which were legendary, very, very legendary. Supposedly had healing properties and could keep you young forever. Very expensive. And yet…not today. Not here.

The dirt started to be poured over Jane's grave, and the tears flowed from everyone. Nearly everyone, Magnus wasn't crying, but the rest of them were. The children went to Dragon and they cried together.

Days trudged past into weeks, which dragged to months, which somehow built themselves into a year. On the anniversary of the fire, odd things began happening. Lavinia had this dream where Jane had come asking her if "her little highness wished to play."

Lavinia had been so heartbroken over her loss, they called it just memories.

But then, Lavinia was having a tea party and turned away just a moment. When she turned back, the cups and saucers were stacked one on top of the other. Lavinia had been puzzled, and then she smelled the faint scent of smoke.

The princess smiled. Jane hadn't left for good like they said she had.

The candles guttered out. A window had opened obviously. The fire went out. Not enough fuel, surely! The smith's fire went out. He wasn't attentive enough. There was the smell of smoke though there was no fire. Well…perhaps Dragon burped or something…

Lavinia laughed to herself about those theories. It was Jane! Adults didn't know anything.

"You think it is Jane doing all this?" asked Pepper one day as the princess sat in the kitchen, having told Pepper her secret. "But princess, Jane is…"

"I know. It is her ghost, silly!" laughed the girl. Pepper nodded and agreed as she was supposed to, missing her friend.

Over the weeks, Lavinia would smile as tricks were played. Sheets were pulled off of people, pillows were yanked from underneath their heads, and every night, there was the smell of smoke, and Lavinia would whisper ideas for pranks to Jane. She grinned broadly as leaks appeared over her brother's head at meals, disappearing when he looked up, and tried not to laugh when Jester would find his beloved hat lying on the other side of the castle, or innocently by the door to Jane's ruined bedroom.

But once, Theodore had come to the meal eyes wide and almost terrified. When asked he had said, "I saw Jane. I was coming here, and there she was, sitting on the stairs and watching me. Then she vanished and all I could smell was smoke." As that left his lips, the room suddenly smelled of smoke, and a ghostly figure of a twelve year old girl in leggings raced through the room, laughing. The candles and fire guttered out.

Over the years, Jane was sometimes seen, or smelt. Gunther saw her most often, in the training yard: lying on her back staring to the sky, or possibly holding the practice sword he had put next to her body almost waiting for him to come spar.

Many people smelled her, and then were victim to a prank imagined by Lavinia and carried out by Jane.

"Maybe you could do that thing with the pillow, and then leap up and scare them!" whispered the little girl as the smell of smoke invaded the room.

The smoke smell receded, and Lavinia could hear her brother scream. The smoke smell was back and Lavinia was laughing, almost able to hear Jane laughing with her.

For years and years and years, they left Jane's room untouched, but eventually, they knew that they needed to rebuild it, for something else, they needed that room. The made it into a bedroom for squires, in honor of Jane.

Those squires never slept well in that room, for there was never a flame. Candles couldn't be lit, a fire in the fireplace was unthinkable. Jane was their protector, and even when the country entered battle, there was a very strong smell of smoke.

When Gunther was knighted, he said he had smelt smoke the night before at his vigil in the chapel. When Lavinia married, Jane's scent of smoke permeated the room. When Caradoc died, smoke smell drifted about the funeral. When Cuthbert was crowned, the crown's cloth smelled of smoke. When Cuthbert took a queen, her nostrils were invaded with the strong smell of smoke.

"What is that?" she asked. Cuthbert took a deep breath, and only smiled. Queen Lavinia (obviously of another land) clarified by saying,

"That's just Jane. She won't harm you." And that was what they said to everyone, until it became,

"What is that smell?"

"Jane is here."

And soon, no one remembered Jane they only remembered that the smell of smoke and the twelve year old girl's ghost often played pranks but wouldn't harm you.

Smoke…Jane's here.

A/N: Well, I just killed off Jane. I thought I wouldn't have to. Huh. Well, Sarah and Jane were the same age.

As such, I shall now tell you the real story. Sarah (I can't remember her last name) lived with her parents in...Virginia I think it was. She was twelve years old and loved to play pranks. She and her parents were absolutely happy. Then, one night, Sarah was asleep in her attic bedroom, when a fire started. She was asleep and trapped, so she died. Parents being devestated, they moved away. the community left the shell of the house untouched, until the 80's. They built a bed and breakfast, every Victorian detail restored. Sarah's room is a place you can stay. But they say she plays pranks on you.

She did pull pillows, she did stack teacups, and everyone can tell if Sarah is there because of the smell of smoke. She was/is 12 years old and haunts the guests.

But I hope you enjoyed it!