Sir Theodore's party arrived back just a few hours later, while Gunther and Jane were still deeply asleep, wrapped in each other's arms. Jane was unaware of any of the attendant commotion, not waking until hours later to find Lavinia, pale and serious, sitting beside the bed and staring at her.

It was an odd sight to wake to, and at first Jane couldn't quite credit it. There was something distinctly unexpected about seeing the princess there, although it took her a moment – blinking the sleep away, brows furrowing in perplexity – to put her finger on just what that was.

Then she remembered. Lavinia wasn't at the castle; or at least... she hadn't been. The last time Jane had seen Lavinia had been in the woods, during the thick of the fighting, as Dragon had (thank God oh thank GOD) carried her and Cuthbert away to safety.

Jane's eyes widened.

She struggled up onto one elbow, then very carefully and gently extricated herself from beneath Gunther's arm, which had been flung protectively over her stomach. "Princess," she croaked, forcing herself into a sitting position facing the dark-haired teenager, swinging her legs gingerly over the side of the bed. Gunther, still entirely lost to the world, was a solid warmth at her back, and that was a good thing; she needed that anchor because as soon as she was upright the room began – slowly and subtly, but it definitely began – to spin.

"Jane," Lavinia said, and then her face was crumpling, her breath hitching, and a second later the princess was flat-out sobbing. Jane, at a loss for what else to do, folded the weeping girl into her arms. Fighting through her own sense of vertigo, she held Lavinia with all the strength she could muster, stroking her hair as she cried.

Eventually Lavinia was down to gasps and hiccups, her warm and tear-sticky face resting on Jane's shoulder.

"Princess?" Jane said again at length, her own voice still unsteady. "What… what has… is it Cuthbert, is he –"

"No." Lavinia took a deep, shuddery breath. "No, he… is fine, his leg… recovering. No, Jane, it… I… you! I am so sorry… for you!" She dissolved back into tears again, although the storm of sobs had subsided. These were tired tears, and weak. "You should have been on Dragon, not us, you… they caught you because of… of… you and, and, Gunther – it was all my fuh – fuh –"

"No!" Jane wrapped her arms even more tightly around the crying girl. "No, Lavinia, I was off Dragon already, remember? It was a battle, things happen, and I am just so glad you and your brother are safe! I am all right… Gunther will be all right. I promise, I promise." She could only pray, as she spoke the words, that they were true.

"Truly?" Lavinia asked, finally pulling away. "Because the men were talking… the whole way home… and even Sir Theodore seemed… seemed to think…" She looked on the verge of breaking down again.

"Yes, truly," Jane said, trying to project an air of certainty. Moving slowly, gingerly, she scooted a bit to the side, affording the distraught princess an unobstructed view of Gunther. "He is sleeping. It was… touch and go for a while, but… he is strong, Lavinia."

"Strong and not ready to leave you," the princess whispered, causing sudden hot tears to spring to Jane's eyes. "That is what Sir Theodore said, but he did not sound certain, Jane, not at all –"

"Your majesty." Jane reached out and cupped Lavinia's chin, compelling the princess's dark eyes to meet her own once more. "Everything will be all right."

It took a while, but eventually the teenager calmed... as Jane continued to fervently pray that her reassurances were more than mere, empty words.


More visitors followed, once Lavinia had regained her composure and gone on her way. Cuthbert stopped by for a moment, bandaged and limping but essentially whole, to Jane's profound relief. Pepper popped in briefly to ask if there was anything Jane needed, then vanished only to return with a large bowl of hot broth. It was the first nourishment Jane had taken in… she wasn't even quite sure how long, actually, but a while. It warmed her in the loveliest way. Her parents came, together, and sat with her as she drank it, talking quietly.

Finally came Sir Theodore, looking tired and grave. At Jane's request, he provided a brief accounting of his party's journey home, and the status of the prisoners they had taken. The outlaws were believed to be either killed, captured or routed, her mentor informed her, but the king was not taking that for granted, not this time. Another large party was set to leave in under a week's time, to return and scour the area; to make entirely sure. An outpost would be set up as an added precaution, to be permanently manned for the foreseeable future.

The real purpose for Sir Theodore's visit, though, was of course to check on Jane and Gunther. "Jane," he said softly and with characteristic seriousness, "I need you to be honest with me. While you were held captive, was there any damage done to you of… a more personal nature?"

It took her a moment, brows knitting, to process exactly what he was asking. Then, "Oh. I… no, they… no," she stammered, feeling a rush of heat suffuse her cheeks.

"Jane?" He didn't look convinced. "Some of the laces on your clothing were broken."

Jane's face burned hotter. Trust him to have noticed something like that. Her mentor didn't miss much.

"No," she said again, more forcefully. "No, the… intent was there, but it… he… was interrupted."

"Interrupted how?"

"By me getting my hands loose and cutting his throat."

"Ah." He looked hard at her for a moment longer, then visibly sagged with relief. "Very well, then. And what about Gunther, did he –"

"He," came a sudden, sleep-hoarse voice, "is awake and can hear you just fine. And assures you that no one made free with his person, either."

"Gunther," Jane breathed, whirling to face him – and then pressing a hand to her head when the room set to spinning again. Sir Theodore leaned forward, his gaze on Gunther intent; searching.

"You have no idea how good it is," the older knight said quietly, "to hear your voice again."

Gunther tried for a smile, although what he produced was far more akin to a grimace. 'I am glad you are back safe as well, Sir."

Sir Theodore took his leave shortly after that. There would need to be a full debriefing at some point, but Jane and Gunther were in no condition at present, and he was exhausted from his own trek home. Jane, sitting on the edge of the bed, scooted closer to her husband once their visitor was gone. She reached down and pressed a hand to the side of his face, absently stroking his stubbly cheek with her thumb.

"Do you think you can eat?" she asked.

He paused for a moment, then gave his head a minute shake. "No. Lie back down. I miss you."

She arched an eyebrow quizzically. "But I am right h–"

"Sitting up is not close enough. I miss you." His eyes were falling shut again. "Jane…"

She gave a soft snort, but did as he asked. "You are a spoilt, demanding creature, do you know that, Gunther Breech?" she said, stretching out beside him on the bed.

"Yes," he breathed, tangling a hand in her hair, and was immediately lost to sleep again.

Not even a moment later, she followed.