A/N Hey guys! I want to thank ya for the lovely reviews :D (I was cracking up that most people seemed much more excited over the JxG than concerned for Jester's brutal killing!)
To name a few reviews-
Anon: I'm so glad you liked it! I've seen your reviews all around JATD so I was psyched that you dropped me one. Jane and Gunther forever, my friend :D
Answeris42: Kudos to you too, I was psyched to hear that you enjoyed it! :D There will be more chapters, but not very many left to go, now.
Kyra4: Thanks so much for your unwavering support- I owe you… a lot!
Unknown- Thank you for giving me the determination to plow on and finish this chapter as soon as possible. I hope you read it!
You guys Rock my socks!
I have got hits from the U.S, Canada, Australia, Romania, Germany, Hungary, Austria, and the U.K!
Heck, those are all the places I want to go to someday!
Needless to say, this chapter is MUCH more delayed than I had aimed for, I know. There are many reasons…
One, being: I am completely terrified that the JxG interaction will be ALL wrong and OOC :P so, I stressed. This was at first, (Shocker) a completely JxJ piece, but I decided to sway for both JxJ and JxG right before I started posting the first chapter- and my brain is addled :(
Another thing, being: it is very difficult to get a hold of the laptop when you are bound by strict unspoken family laws to share it with your younger siblings… :O
Um, sorry bout that. You don't wanna hear about my weird life… *Clears throat awkwardly* well, here's the chapter!
The song is-
Little talks- Of monsters and men. (Kinda cheerful, for the chapter, but the lyrics struck me familiar.
Hope it's OK- LadyM
Reviews would be love, but simply seeing that people are reading this is just as great :D
Some days I can't even trust myself
It's killing me to see you this way
There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back
I tell her that I miss our little talks
Soon it will all be over, buried with our past
You used to play outside when you were young,
Full of life and full of love
Some days I feel like I am wrong and I am right
Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear
'Cause though the truth may vary
This ship will carry
Our bodies safe to shore
Go go go away
I wish you'd disappear
All that's left is a ghost of you
Now we're torn torn torn apart, there's nothing we can do
Just let me go, me against you
Now wait wait wait for me
Please hang around
I see you when I fall asleep
Gunther remembered when they had first spotted her, when she went streaking through the forest like there was a devil on her tail. He remembered nudging Dragon enthusiastically, not that he need to, of course- the beast had already seen her and was beginning to dive precariously for the forest floor.
'What if,' he had worried, 'she does not recognize me?'
A silly thing to think, now, he knows.
But he remembered the doubts rushing through his mind as they went down, down, down.
'What if she does not wish to see me?'
'…What if she has her sword?'
And lastly,
'What if…she hates me?'
Though the fact that they were declining shook him rudely from his thoughts; declining so fast, that Gunther was sure they were a hairsbreath away from a crashing death with the earth- until Dragon pulled up viscously, the wind speeding around them like a funnel squeezing them through the air.
His heart caught in his throat when he caught sight of her up ahead, shoulders heaving and panting from the strenuous run.
He remembered landing on that mossy floor and jumping off of Dragon's back with all the restrain he could muster, when he saw her kneeling there- shaking and praying on her knees, refusing to turn around.
Typical Jane.
He could see her in his mind's eye as clear as day; her rising slowly from the ground and standing before him, looking like a mythical forest spirit with her bare feet, emerald eyes gleaming, mouth puckered open in shock, and her alabaster skin shining underneath that silky dress of hers in all its colors of white hued with purple and green and blue shimmering in the dusk breeze. He commemorated the single tear track that ran glistening down her cheek, its reason unbeknownst to him- yet.
She looked wild, broken, and haunted- she looked anything but Jane.
He recalled the way she had thrown herself into his arms, shaking and crying,
"It should have been me," over and over again.
It was that, that scared Gunther the most.
It was that singular cry that shook him mercilessly from his sleep, making him shoot up in the dark of night just to check if she were still breathing.
And now he watched her as she slept, curled up in the green grass; with her hair spread about the green like a red fire halo, fists curled tightly to her chest, and her fluttering eyelids shut- dreaming of things he could only hope to know.
He lay his head down on the grass beside her, studying her face over the rubbery grass stems that tickled his cheeks. She looked so peaceful, but every moment or so she would tremble or fidget as though some ghost thought were still plaguing her endlessly.
God, He speculated silently, what happened to you, Jane?
Behind her lay Dragon, snoring softly, his beryl scales flashing dully in the shy morning rays of sun that cast shadows and beams askew and shimmering through the forest; it was like looking through the glass mosaic panels of a cathedral into a mystical scene of a forest.
In his minds eyes he could still see her, all those years ago, flashing and parrying and thrusting her wickedly sharp sword in such a ferociously beautiful display that it looked as if it belonged in paintings.
He could still see her red hair swinging about her face, curtaining those laughing vibrant green eyes; the face that used to be so full of youth opened wide to let an offhand comment slip loose, causing Dragon to snigger and Gunther to flush in embarrassed anger.
Gunther shook his head, trying to shake the stabbing of regret and sadness that had settled in his stomach.
The voice daunted him, a bit louder this time, sounding curiously like his father-
Where is your Jane now, boy?
A week ago, he would have known his answer.
Gunther gazed silently at the sleeping Jane once more, his throat catching fire.
I do not know, He admitted silently.
I do not know.
Gunther slid his worn hunting tunic off his shoulders, and let the thin cotton of his under-shirt see the light of day.
I do not know where she is, he echoed dully, letting the thought roll and drip off into the caverns of his mind.
Gunther breathed out slowly to calm his pounding head and rose quietly, his dagger clutched firmly in hand, stalking off through the tree branches in search of landmarks.
But damn all reason if I cannot find her again.
-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-
Jane was still dreaming when he came back, dirt smeared across his shirt and a gash gaping all through one side.
Gunther held his breath and silently nodded to Dragon, who had one eye cracked open and was lazily gazing at him suspiciously over the sleeping girl between them.
Gunther sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck as Dragon drifted back off to sleep.
He felt more alone than ever.
With all his heart, he wished he could talk to her… to just hear her voice again. But he simply could not bring himself to shake her awake- not when the waking world had proved so painful for her.
Suddenly Jane stirred, thrashing her head back and forth in the green grass, her lips whispering nearly inaudible words.
"Gunther," she murmured, and something in Gunther's heart struck a chord. He knelt beside her, shaking her shoulders as gently as he could manage with his heart pounding strickenly in his ears.
"Jane…" He hissed, but her eyes remained shut. "Jane!"
"They are killing him. No. they… they… Gun- Gunther…" She moaned feverishly.
"Wake UP, Jane!" he yelled, feeling sick inside.
Wake up, he pleaded silently.
"Please, Jane…" he breathed shakily into her ear, combing back the damp red hair from her cheeks.
I need you… to wake up- for me.
Jane gasped hugely and shook upright, ramrod straight, as she finally drifted back into mental consciousness.
She took deep stuttering breaths, propping her arms behind her as Gunther sighed loudly in pure unprecedented relief.
Jane stared straight ahead at the trees for a good five seconds before she seemed to notice Gunther sitting, his raven eyes wide open and concerned, beside her. Her cheeks flushed hotly as she fidgeted to make sure her dress were not off kilter and stood up with all the dignity she could muster.
"Good," he uttered weakly, "You are awake."
Jane remained silent and nodded slowly, as though she were afraid any faster would spin her head clear off her slender neck.
"What were you dreaming about?" Gunther pried, steel suddenly carving the edge in his voice. He rose off his knees and gazed at her expectantly, with her back still turned to him.
"Nothing," she breathed, crossing her arms.
Gunther's eyes flashed and stirred like a dormant storm as he slung his knapsack over his shoulder, feeling the terrible anger swell up in him again like an incurable fever.
"Nothing." He repeated emotionlessly.
He strode across the clear leaving Jane standing silently, a look of and annoyance flashing in her face at the sound of his unreadable tone. She was completely unsure if he were simply echoing her, or simply MOCKING her.
Typical Gunther, she concluded silently, as she settled on mockery, her cheeks warming in a kind of quiet untrained anger.
She watched mutely as Gunther rapped Dragon's head with his knuckles.
"Morning, lizard," he twittered.
"Mornin'… breakfast…" Dragon huffed dully.
Gunther gave him a final tap on the forehead, and strode over to Jane's side as Dragon finally lumbered upright.
He bent down to retrieve the long, thin metal weapon from the ground where it had fallen the night before, when she had fallen asleep on his chest, his cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. Gunther outstretched his arm and handed Jane her sword, trying his best to avoid her accusing eyes.
"Let us get a move one," he stated, "Best not to stay in one place for too long in… conditions like this,"
Jane stared hazily at the sword in her hand, not moving a muscle. Gunther shook the niggling note of worry from his back and padded over to her.
"Jane?" he inquired softly.
"Mm, yes?" she answered.
"You…" Gunther paused, searching for the right words, "You sheathe the sword, Jane, like this…"
He gestured to his own sword that hung and gleamed loyally at his side like an old friend.
"I know what to do with a sword, you arse," she snapped.
Gunther smiled, much to Jane's obvious chagrin, glee biting at his heels. For just a moment, he saw a flash of the old Jane- the Jane that never let him got away with a joke, the Jane that defied all laws for her own dreams. The Jane that never, ever, gave up.
He had seen that Jane again.
Atta girl, Jane. He cheered inwardly.
Keep fighting.
He kept grinning dumbly, until he recognized the look of hurt that replaced the fury on her face. He sobered quickly, guilt slapping him squarely in the face.
"I am sorry," he apologized quietly, searching desperately for any signs of lenience on her part. All he found, however, were two stony green eyes staring at him in confusion, two flushed cheeks, and two pale pink lips pursed tightly at him.
She turned, without saying a word, to walk to Dragon's side.
Striding steadily and silently, they set off through the forest unknown.
Gunther lagged behind, watching Jane slip lithely across the miles as the Dragon lumbered, not nearly so gracefully, beside her. The two exchanging friendly glances and looks that seemed to talk for themselves the whole way.
Gunther raised his head high, and walked on, through the guilty churning in his gut.
I am sorry, he echoed silently, watching Jane's slender torso lean against Dragon for support.
Never once did they spare him a glance until an hour into the trek, when Dragon grumpily insisted that they stop and rest.
"… For Jane's sake, of course," he added quickly.
Jane smiled wistfully at Dragon as he curled up and went to sleep once more, almost instantly.
She turned around lazily, her skirt swinging about her pale knees gracefully; her eyes slightly widened in surprise, as though she had forgotten he were even there. Gunther smiled hopefully, and stared dully at her in shock when something he had never seen her exhibit before flashed across her face- guilt.
"Jane…" he broke the silence, "Will you…"
She gazed at him mutely, well-retained fear etched into her paled features.
Gunther trailed off, searching desperately for the correct words. Finding none, he breathed out defeatedly.
"Please," he finally pleaded, inching closer to her across the clearing, "Please, Jane, I need to know. What happened?"
He was now right in front of her, and she averted her eyes towards her bare aching feet, heart humming dully in her ears.
You should have known Jane, She attested herself inwardly-
He was bound to ask you, sooner or later.
He took her hand in his, and as lightly as a breath of wind would trickle over a stream, enclosed her small milky pale fingers in his rough tan ones. Jane's words caught in her mouth and were left unsaid, her mouth agape slightly, feeling increasingly distracted under Gunther's inadverted focus; his amber eyes taking on a seriousness she had never seen him attempt before.
Jane exhaled calmly, her exterior completely indifferent to the jumbled mess of confusion that had built inside of her.
"I broke into the dungeons," she admitted, no regret tracing her tones, "I found him, and convinced him to come with me… away from Kippernia. Away from the war…"
Away from ME, Gunther cried out, yet not making a noise at all.
"We ran, and we saw the knights following us- but we had had a good start. He found a boat, and tried to get away. I had twisted my ankle and blacked out on the way down the cliff, so he must have carried me there," She murmured, an unreadable look shining in her emerald eyes. "He did not say so, but when I woke up, I found that he had been shot," Her voice broke, "With an arrow."
Gunther closed his eyes as she turned hers to face him.
"I thought it had been you," she whispered, never lowering her gaze.
Gunther bit his tongue, not knowing what to say.
How could you not have suspected? He cursed himself, as the malevolent look of his father that night flashed in his mind, she is clever.
She would have recognized the arrow, even if it was not you who shot it.
"It was not…" He trailed off, dully.
The father-like voice was back, whispering in his ear.
This is where it ends, boy!
What makes you think she will believe you?
How could she possibly hear the words from the one whose own arrow she found impaling her companions chest in the early hours of the morning?
"I believe you," Jane asserted fiercely.
"You… you do?" He stammered.
She DOES?
"H-how?" he inquired, joy replacing the cries of sorrow in his chest.
Jane bit her lip, thoughtfully, rolling the words around on her tongue.
"I… had a dream, you see…" she uttered.
"It was your father," Jane stated quietly, "I saw him. I realize that sounds ridiculous, but I did. I saw a lot…"She trailed off, glancing at him briefly.
"You saw me?"
Jane nodded mutely.
"I saw everything…"
Gunther stared at her in amazement.
"I believe you," he closed.
A small smile played briefly at her lips, as she spoke on.
"It was after Jester had gained consciousness," she continued, "he… I… um, then… we, reached shore not long after. Hans and his troupe found us at the beach. They called us the rogues," shechuckled bitterly.
"He had a daughter, Lavinia," Gunther raised an eyebrow, and Jane shot him a knowing look.
"I learned that she is, or she claims to be, the princesses' aunt," Jane explained, a stinging tone hinting underneath the folds of her voice.
Gunther nodded calmly, holding her hand ever cool and gentle by his side.
"She told me…"
She closed her eyes shut, the papery thin eyelids and golden red eyelashes fluttering slightly as if they were witnessing the memory all over again.
"She told me that Jester was already dying, of the poison," She whispered, barely out loud, "She told me, that Hans would no longer have me in their company if he were to die. She told me, that to keep him, and myself, alive, I needed to make him believe that I loved him back,"
Gunther stared at her, wide-eyed, clammy iron hands squeezing at his chest.
"So… I did," she rasped, her breath shuddering for a moment.
"I told him," She breathed, "that I loved him,"
Gunther closed his eyes.
"When I woke up, he had already gone to fight with the first brigade, Lavinia told me- so I ran after him," she stated quietly, the story folding off her tongue like layers of bitter-sweet silk.
Gunther squeezed her hands, trying to register her words as painlessly as possible.
"I followed him," she continued, her breathing growing wracked, "And I saw him die, right before I could reach him," She cried faintly. "…I watched him die right before my eyes,"
She pulled her hand away from his and wrapped them around her elbows, rocking slightly left and right, in a demure attempt to calm her frantic heart.
Jane. God, Jane.
Gunther heart wrenched for her, and he curled his hands in the absence of her own to fill his palms.
He suddenly wished he could go back, before any of this had ever happened, before he had to hear the last thing he wanted to.
"Jane…" he called her name softly, "…Did you love him?"
Jane flashed around at him frantically.
"Yes-" she admitted, then changed her mind "…No. Yes… oh God, Gunther, I did,"
She paused, and Gunther's heart stopped.
"…I did love him, I did,"
Gunther smiled sadly, his lifeblood suddenly pumping in his ears morosely.
The truth at last, he mused somberly.
"…But not like he loved me!" she cried abruptly, "I did not love him like he loved me. I could not love him, when I love someone else…"
Something took flight in his chest, a thing he had rarely felt before then- it felt like hope.
"You blame yourself," he stated, and her eyes lowered in remembrance.
"It was not your fault, Jane," He pleaded, "What could you have done?"
"More," She snapped. "I could have done so much more-"
"But I did not," her voice laced with bitter acid regrets, "What did I do, but lead him on?"
Gunther stood, wishing he possessed the words to help her.
"Jane, look at me-"
She refused.
"What could you have done?"
Her eyes darkened, and he touched her elbow carefully.
Listen to me, please, Jane.
"I do not know," She lashed finally.
"You did him no unkindness. Do you believe me?"
She spoke not a word, the look on her face saying all he did not hear.
"I do not," she murmured.
"He loved me. He was all I had left- at the time. And, I suppose… that is why I let him think I loved him back. After the dream…" Her voice broke.
The dream? Gunther processed, the feeling of hope beating furiously in his chest, now.
"Jane…" Gunther pleaded longingly.
She pulled away from him, moisture shining in her gleaming eyes, her cheeks flushed like a blooming rose.
"What does it matter?" She cried dryly, "He is dead."
She blinked at the heavens.
"He is DEAD. Two seconds earlier, I could have been by his side. I could have saved him. He would not have to die with my lies ringing in his ears,"
She clenched her teeth, hands hanging limply by her side.
"But he DID. He deserved so much more than what I gave him. He did not deserve a lie!"
Jane turned then, running into the forest, the sound of her feet drumming steadily in his ears.
"JANE!" Gunther yelled after her, his heart crying out.
He clenched his fists to the sides of his head, running them through the curling pitch- black hair that hung over his temples.
"Help me!" He prayed loudly, his voice echoing angrily through the forest around him.
"God…" he shouted, his face tilted towards the sky, now teeming with gray-blue clouds.
"What do I say to her?" He pleaded.
"What can I say to her?"
He did not even hear Dragon's strident footsteps behind him.
"The TRUTH," Dragon retaliated, his voice suddenly booming, frightening Gunther.
"The truth won't help her, Dragon," He snapped, then softened his voice a bit. "God, I do not know how to help her," he murmured.
"She is broken," Gunther breathed, the words hanging in the empty air between them.
"Correction," Dragon chirped, "She is wounded."
Gunther stared at him, doubtfully.
"Being broken is forever. Broken is being beyond repair… wounds heal with time," Dragon rumbled, wisely.
"Not all wounds," Gunther whispered softly, striking a sad note that rang throughout his entire body.
"True," Dragon negotiated, unfazed, "but most wounds,"
He left Gunther there, going off in search of Jane, leaving Gunther breathing slowly and deliberately- as if for the pure spite of living.
Dragon's words echoed in his ears,
"…wounds heal in time…"
Gunther closed his eyes; the feeling of hope that had been buried so deeply in his chest, as of late, breaking loose, shining weakly in the dark chasm of his mind's eye.
"Wounds heal… in time,"
He echoed out loud.
Gunther broke into a run, barreling in the direction Jane had ran.
Thank you, Dragon- He thought inwardly,
Thank you.