A/n: This is the longest chapter yet. I had not planned it that way, and I thought of splitting this but I decided to keep it as one chapter because it felt right. I would like to thank the guest reviewer Boots who left several wonderful comments. I decided to add a reference from one of your comments to this chapter ;D

Anyway, to those that might have forgotten, my oc Mary is more of a plot device then a character, but I hope to do her justice as well. Sorry it took longer than usual, but I had so much editing to do. Thanks to all the people who are reading this fic and all the lovely reviews; I value them all and they encourage me to post faster. Please enjoy!

Chapter 32: The Damsel

Jester had not found the lady in waiting, or so everyone would come to believe, but instead had diverted his attention in watching from a safe distance how they all panicked and worried over a girl of no consequence; a girl with only beauty and youth to recommend her. A mild poison might have sufficed if the maiden had a stronger constitution, but to have fallen victim to hunger, nerves, and the charm of a handsome man so easily was a thing of beauty. If everything continued to go according to plan, then soon enough he would be ready to lend a shoulder for Jane to cry on after her heart had all it could bear. True, a small part of him knew this was not right, and playing around with the sensibilities of his dear friend could backfire, and succeed in persuading her to dislike him, but what else could he do to get her attention? All his usual tactics had failed, and being a good friend had only managed to break his heart since the beginning of their acquaintance.

Had he been bold enough to confess to her during the ball that was done in her honour for saving the Prince all those years ago things might have been different. Yet, while Jane had been preoccupied about learning the ways of the sword, he was twisted up in the weaknesses of a foolish heart too afraid to change what was already a beautiful, and wonderful friendship. All their days spent in laughter, fun, and play, those were no more, but he longed for their light-hearted, springtime softness. And swallowing back his yearning, repressing his grief, and returning his thoughts to the present, Jester set about to keep his eyes alert for Sir Theodore, for he could not have that rusty, old knight thwarting his plans.

In the kitchen, the cook had been humming over a pot of stew, glad that it was already smelling wonderful when the blacksmith's sudden arrival interrupted the peace. "Pepper, can I have a little wine please?"

The inquiry incited Pepper to exclaim, "And what will we be celebrating? On the success of your romantic conquest?"

This was one of the rare occasions that Smithy appreciated the fancifulness that was Pepper, for it succeeded in calming him slightly, but he could not afford to forget what he had come for. "No, but I do not have time to explain. There is a problem."

Turning towards him, and taking in his solemn features, she sobered, "Oh, did someone get hurt?"

"I hope not." He did not want to fail Jane in this task. It was cruel to give precedence to anyone other than the one who lied unconscious in the throne room, but he could not help it. His duty first and foremost was to be in the service of the king and his knights, and no matter what he would see this through, although he was concerned of the misunderstanding that would be left hanging about them; between himself and the lady knight. "Jane asked me to come and fetch you. I hope you understand."

The slight furrow in his brow, the open, sincere earnestness in which he carried out this task and which accompanied his simple words was all the cook needed to know and had the occasion been different, a celebration would have been in order. "Of course, but I will need a moment." And stepping out into the kitchen garden, Pepper inquired, "Rake, can you stir the stew? I have to go help Smithy. Can you manage until I return?"

Popping his head out from amongst the pumpkin patch, the gardener yelled back, "Yes!"

"I will be back later. Try not to get burned."

With that taken care of, Pepper went along with the blacksmith, and together they brought a waterskin full of wine, and an empty bucket on the odd chance the chambermaid expelled the contents of her stomach, but upon seeing the chambermaid in question, the cook balked but continued forward at Jane's urgent plea. Pepper had a feeling she knew what had occurred, but kept her mouth shut for this was not the time for speculation. And handing the supplies to the lady knight, Jane wasted little time in administering the wine through Mary's parted lips. The wine succeeded in bringing a little colour back into her cheeks, but otherwise, the chambermaid did not stir. "What should we do?" Wondered the cook as she checked Mary's breathing and searched for signs of a fever. "I do not think this is the cause of a malady, but I cannot be for certain. Oh, if only the wizard were not away on an errand for the King, but he will not be back before a fortnight. And where is Jester?"

"I sent him to fetch mother, but I will not be surprised if the king needed him for a different task. No matter, it cannot be as bad as we had believed. She looks no worse," Stated Jane, gauging the reactions of her friends; relieved that they were not overreacting. "but not much better. A little rest should do her some good."

Eager to assist in whatever way he could, the blacksmith inquired, "Should I carry her to the servant's quarters?"

He could, but that would succeed in bringing about rumours, and although the blacksmith had the best of intentions, Jane could not allow his honour to be sullied. Besides, the large room with its many beds for the young female servants would not be conducive to peace, and knowing that there would be no privacy for a girl as delicate as Mary, the lady knight declared, "No, I will take her to my quarters."

"But Petal, where shall you sleep?"

"Nevermind that. For now, can you ask Rake if any herbs might rouse her?"

"Of course and I will be sure to bring over the necessary supplies."

"Thank you, Pepper."

The departure of the cook left Smithy alone with his thoughts, the neutral-faced Jane, and an unconscious chambermaid. By no means did he believe that this was where his day was going to lead him, but there was always a first for everything, and it made him uneasy that Jane scarcely looked at him. During the entire interaction between the cook and the lady knight, it was as though he did not exist. He had assumed that there was minor suspicion in his role in this unfortunate accident, but there was no knowing what the lady knight was thinking. "What shall I do?" He inquired in his attempt to be useful, "If I can be of assistance, tell me what I ought to do."

Rising from where she had been seated on the ground, lifting, and carefully holding the petite body in her arms, the lady knight faced forward, and instructed, "You will have to follow me."

And that is what he did. Jane for her part bit the inside of her cheek and bore the thought of how concerned he was over this girl he scarcely knew while she was right there in front of him.

The cook did her best to ensure that the chambermaid appeared comfortable; her lithe form seemed engulfed by the blanket and the pillows, but at least there would be room to stir when she waked. It was of some comfort that Mary did not appear to be pained, but the overwhelming silence was disheartening. What was Jane about earlier? Pepper knew that if she stayed where she was and waited for Jane to return, that she might be able to inquire on whether the lady knight would be able to settle the odd difference which she displayed towards the blacksmith. Misunderstandings had threatened their friendship before, and they had managed to work through it, but that did not prevent Pepper from wishing with all her might that they would not allow pride, and strong will from working things out once more.

Outside the lady knights tower, Jane paced as Smithy could only wonder what she intended to ask him. There were what appeared to be insignificant particulars and moments that did not feel as though they amounted to much, but if word reached Sir Theodore, as it usually did, someone would have to be able to explain it; that someone being himself or Jane. The silence stretched on as he watched her busy in quiet contemplation, but although she was preoccupied, it was unlike her to ignore him, and it had him worried. Whichever offence he had done, he could not remember, but amongst his suppositions and introspections, he almost did not hear her calm inquiry, "How did this happen, Jethro? I know I asked earlier, but if there is anything you were unable to tell me in front of our friends, you are free to tell me now."

A blustering wind blew her fiery, red hair about, and the setting sun cast a lovely, captivating hue on her skin. Jane was a sight to behold, and if they had not been preoccupied with such matters as this current unpleasantness, they could have conversed on how their day had gone instead. Oh, if only. "I am not sure." He answered, "Perhaps she had gotten overtired, but she made no complaint while I was assisting her."

Jane paused her pacing, pressed her lips together, and spun on her heel; suspicion colouring her voice, "Assisting her with what?"

In hindsight, he should have worded that better, but it was too late to regret it now. Being forthright with her would be the best course of action; it always worked before. "She needed my assistance in bringing down a tapestry."

Jane did not want to spew accusations at her gentle friend, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing moment. Jethro's statement might have been true, it must have been true, but that did not mean an edge of annoyance would not be heard in her voice; making her reluctant to continue. Nonetheless, she could not repress her reasoning. "But there is no reason to clean the tapestries this late in the year. What were you thinking?"

"I did not give it much thought at first, but you are right, it was peculiar. Be that as it may, I had no reason to deny her request, but the more I thought about it, the odder it became. I know I could have asked your father about the record of its last cleaning, but… "

"But what?" She urged him. "Is there a reason you cannot inquire about it?"

To refer or inquire of the particulars of her family was an intimacy he did not believe he had the right to address, but he would have to express his thoughts; her inquiries demanded it. Scratching the back of his neck, he explained, "I did not want to imply that your mother made a mistake since she is the one that instructs the chambermaids on where they ought to be and to go, but I remember taking down that tapestry a few months ago," He stressed, "I must have, right around the time of the Princesses coming-out celebration, and it had been cleaned then."

"Then why did you not say as much?"

"For the same reason I helped her. She had a duty to perform, which was to clean the tapestry, and part of my duty is to ensure that the castle is maintained and kept in good repair. Yet, no matter how much that tapestry was struck, little dust fell off it which convinced me that this must have been a mistake." And pausing for a moment, so that he would not misspeak, he then finished with, "I know both your mother and father are careful and do their duties well, but is it possible your mother had forgotten?"

"Perhaps, but now that you mention it," It would be a disaster, with her father silently lamenting for as long as it took for her mother to calm her ruffled feathers, and it was Jethro's forethought that allowed the Knight to calm a little. "I can see why you were hesitant. If my father were to inquire about this to mother, there would be no doubt that it would end with her being cross with him."

"Do you believe there is any other reason?" He wondered. "I tried, but I cannot think of anything of consequence."

Jane had a feeling that the reason might not have been as complicated as it seemed. Considering her friend, the lady knight knew no one could deny the fact that Jethro was agreeable to be around. Anyone who had the privilege to spend time in his company would be enriched. This was why she had to fight the tears that bit at the back of her eyes because the weight of what she was going to propose along with its consequence could mean losing him. Be that as it may, Jane suggested, "Is it possible that Mary used the tapestry as an excuse to spend time with you?"

"With me?"

The lady knight felt a pang of regret bloom in her chest, but she pushed through with her assumption. "Yes. I had seen the way she looks at you." Jane had seen the way the chambermaid pined and longed even for a passing glance from the blacksmith but was always appearing defeated when she received none. To speak of it gave it more prominence than Jane would have liked, but it had to be said. "She fancies you, Jethro."

The blacksmith knew that, but hearing it from Jane's lips was not what he had expected. This misunderstanding made him feel as though his insides twisted, and the weight of his regard wanted to surface so that this agony might end, but he must get through this. "I know," He confessed; trying to steady his breathing, "but I do not believe...that is to say, I do not think she would go through that sort of trouble."

"Why not?"

"Because," He explained, "although I do not know her well, she is not the deceptive sort to do such a thing."

It felt terrible to be quick to suspect others; a consequence of her profession no doubt. True, it was simpler to place blame on the person who threatened Jane's future happiness, but did Jethro fancy the chambermaid, and defend her honour because of his regard, or because of his goodness? Perhaps that is why he appeared so troubled; the lady knight hoped not, but this was not any easier on her either; bias should not cloud her judgement. Be that as it may, Jane wanted there to be a reason that this was the chambermaid's own doing and that her current state was self-inflicted. "I suppose you are right. Sorry, I only mentioned it because Gunther informed me that many of those maidens that were observing us yesterday were there to see you, and Mary had been one of them."

"Jane, I do not pay much mind to that sort of thing. And you see," He started, wondering if this was the time, and decides he might as well confess, "if I had paid any mind to anyone, it would have been to…"

But he did not get to confess what he wanted to say, for Pepper alerted them that the chambermaid had woken.

With a start, Mary did not recognize where she was, but upon seeing the lady knight standing near the foot of the bed, and the blacksmith near the doorway, she realized that something was amiss. This was not the servant's quarters, and this was not her bed, but that of her mistress. It was Jane who spoke first and interrupted the chambermaid's thoughts. "How are you, Mary? Feeling much better?"

"Yes, my lady."

Jane was not fond of formalities, but she would excuse it for now. The cook treated the chambermaid with an almost sister-like affection, and checked again for any signs of fever or distress, and was relieved to find none. "You had us all worried, but no matter. How would you like to come down and have dinner with us?" Inquired Pepper, "I made a hearty stew with plenty of vegetables."

"But my task to... "

Stepping inside the tower; conscious that it was the intimate space of his beloved friend, Smithy felt encouraged to speak. "It has been done, and I already hung the tapestry."

The tapestry? So it had not been a dream. The last thing the chambermaid recalled was watching the blacksmith as he was hanging the tapestry, but she had felt faint. "If you would rather go to sleep," Suggested the lady knight, "you may use my room tonight. I know how noisy it gets in the servant's quarters."

Mild guilt made Mary's stomach feel uneasy because Dame Jane had little incentive to be kind to a lowly servant, but knowing that the blacksmith was there was of some comfort. And yet, his eyes were set towards the lady knight; aglow with admiration, as he nodded his agreement and approval to the lady knight's offer. The chambermaid knew it long ago but had persuaded herself with her delusions that he could come to love her; deceived by the fool that by persuading Smithy to assist her would work in her favour. But, although Mary had been in danger, and had the appearance of near death, the blacksmith still did not look at her the way he did with the lady knight. This was enough to induce her to tears, but she dare not cry; when Mary had a lonely corner, away from the eyes of her fellow chambermaids, she may mourn then. "No my lady," She answered with calmness, but with dignity, "I would prefer to have some dinner because I have not eaten since the morning."

"No wonder." Exclaimed the cook, "That must have been why you felt ill. Now come along with me dear, and I will make sure we get your belly full of delicious food."

Without a second glance towards Jane, Mary gave a low bow and followed after the cook. For her part, Pepper was not going to allow anyone to interfere with the happiness of her friends, and although this was not much, this was all the cook could do; remove part of the conflict. And as the two disappeared, Jane stayed behind but so did the blacksmith. The relief was palpable, and their shared glance said as much. It was the blacksmith who spoke first, "Thank you for your assistance, Jane."

"You are most welcome Jethro. I was simply doing my duty as a knight as well as a friend and seeing how troubled you were, I had to help you. It seems you are always there to help me," She confessed, her heart beating wildly at the sentiment, "but I am grateful that for once I was able to return the favour."

The blacksmith never asked for anything in return, but he was touched by her kind words. "As my friend," He expressed warmly, "you are always helping me."

As his friend? Yes, as his peculiar friend that gave him a lot more trouble than the mares and colts in his care. However, as Jane reached out and placed her hand on his arm, she hoped to change that; his mild surprise warmed her heart because all this time, he had been lenient, but leniency only went so far; there was no more denying it anymore. Pepper had been correct in her insinuation; Jethro did treat her best and talked with her most. And if the lady knight's instinct was correct, and this flutter in her stomach was an indication of her excitement, then he would not refuse her and as much as she had thought her lady in waiting training had been a waste, it might come in useful now.

Peering up at that familiar, handsome face of his, and smiling as sweetly as her affection allowed, the lady knight expressed, "Not as much as you help me. I would be lost without you."

The soft eyes that peered up at him were the ones he had always dreamed about; the one's Smithy would rebuke himself for if he found himself drawn by them. Jane was not usually prone to exaggeration, but it pleased him nonetheless. Yet, to express that she would be lost without him seemed too generous to say to a friend. It could not be him that the lady knight gazed at with such warmth, could it? And yet, he was the only one here, and this was not the first time she glanced at him so.

Emboldened by her gaze, he confessed, "From my standpoint, I would fare a lot worse without your friendship. I am sorry you had to get involved in all this after your sentry duty."

"It could not be helped. Unexpected events do happen. Now that we know Mary is alright, we have nothing to worry about, except for the mystery of who requested the tapestry to be cleaned. I believe I can find out without upsetting mother or father, but it might take a little time."

"If there is anything I can do to help, feel free to let me know."

"You have done plenty. Out of all of us," She reasoned, "you tend to be the busiest. No, I will figure this out. For now, I suppose you will be spending the next fortnight tidying up the forge before you go."

The truth was he did not want to go; at least not without taking care of his unfinished business. "It will not take long to tidy the forge. So, if you have any swords that need sharpening, I will be sure to work on them as soon as I can."

Is work all he thought about? No, Jane was sure he thought of other things. "I wonder if Pepper will want to have another party. Any reason such as a loose tooth or a changing of season would suffice. And your going away seems like enough reason. It would be lovely to dance again, would it not?"

"It would be." He agreed.

"But this time, I suppose there would be no excuse for a fib."

If they were to dance again, the memory of it would provide a measure of happiness that he could carry wherever he would go; no matter how bittersweet. It hurt to linger on the thought, and his pain must have been apparent, for Jane's concern coloured her voice. "What is the matter?"

Where should he start? He was not a gifted speaker, and could not easily explain what he meant, but he had to try. "There is something I do not understand."

Alarmed by his statement, she wondered, "What is it?"

"Earlier, it appeared as though you did not care to talk to me. I thought I might have upset you."

"No, it is not what you think."

"If I had given cause for offence," He implored her as he took a step forward, "no matter how minor, then I hope you will tell me how to fix it."

"Jethro, you did nothing wrong." Because she was the one who wronged him. Allowing her jealousy to get the better of her, Jane had chosen to ignore him, but it succeeded in adding to the misunderstanding. "You see," She confessed, "the situation in the throne room had been so sudden, and because I thought you cared for Mary," Much to the lady knight's displeasure, "I did not want any rumours to start, which is why I tried to handle the situation as soon as possible. I had to protect your honour."

Why should Jane think of it with any consequence? To imagine his friend being jealous was absurd, but it would only take a slight inclination towards him to make him hopeful, which she appeared to be showing. However, as of this moment, the lady knight believed he fancied a pretty chambermaid, and he had to set matters straight. "I do care about her but as one would care for a sister, not in the way she cares for me."

"Oh."

The lack of disappointment was promising, but her confusion persuaded Smithy that Jane would need to hear more of an explanation. "I do not have the talent to charm ladies as some would assume. Never really had a need for it, I suppose, but even if I did," Which he was glad he did not, "I do not believe it is right. Charming others requires deception, which brings about mistrust, and I could not do that Jane. I will not lie to her to spare her feelings."

Meaning the blacksmith would not lie to spare the lady knight's feelings either. His kind, straightforward nature had always been endearing, but how was Jane to interpret his explanation? If he did not fancy the chambermaid, there must have been someone; a person he cared for above everyone else, and Jane wanted that person to be herself. "You are a good man Jethro, it is no wonder you are admired."

The corners of the blacksmith's mouth lifted at that, but if anyone was to be admired, he thought it was her, and he wanted to tell her as much. However, she had more to say. "Earlier, when you said whether you paid any mind to someone, who were you referring to? You were about to tell me, but the conversation was interrupted."

"You." He quickly answered.

Believing what he said to be an unfinished statement, she wondered, "You what?"

This was more nerve-wracking than he had anticipated and somewhat amusing, but he did feel inspired to be bold and to clarify it once more. "I was referring... to you."

"Me?" She questioned; unsure if she heard correctly.

"Yes, Jane."

Smithy knew the moment this revelation sunk in was when her beautiful, vibrant eyes widened and gazed back at him as though she were daring for him to tell her otherwise. The blacksmith's features softened at her wonderment, and held such a tender look, that she had no reason but to believe him. "Jethro, I had no idea. Why did you not tell me sooner?"

Without hesitation, he admitted, "Because I never intended to tell you."

He never intended to tell her that he loved her? The consequence of his admittance was great, for that meant that all those times, every moment spent in each other's company, when she admired him in silence, rebuked herself for her foolishness while they carried on as they did, that he had regarded her. HER. A man who could have had anyone, whose heart and character were above almost everyone of her acquaintance, cared for… her. To be sure, it gladdened Jane's heart that her affection was returned, but it also succeeded in grieving her for it must have tormented him for quite some time. "If I had known," She confessed; regretful of her carelessness, "I would not have asked you to dance. I would not have played around with your sensibilities."

"What was I supposed to do Jane?" He reasoned. "You wanted my help and I chose to help you."

"But how were you able to bear it? I was unknowingly cruel to you."

The warmth from her hand permeated through his shirt, and he longed to place his hand over it, but he had an explanation to get through. This was not the time to get distracted. "I chose to bear it." He confessed, "I had to repress how I felt because I had a duty to perform, and I take pride in my work. Believe me when I say that I was not entirely unhappy because I had Pig, our friends, and the life that I managed to have here." To his relief, it felt as though a weight was coming off his shoulders because he was finally able to relinquish what had been stirring inside him, and he remembered what Sir Theodore had suggested, about how Jane would not know how he felt unless he confessed it. This was not how he wanted it to be done, but here he was; vulnerable, and relinquishing himself in a voice so altered and raw, he added, "You were never cruel to me Jane. At least not on purpose."

"Oh, Jethro."

Like a man facing the Turnkey, he had nothing else to lose. Revealing what he had thus far, made it a lot easier to continue with his confession. "I am glad you had asked me to dance because that day I wanted to dance with you. As your friend, I was happy to do it."

"As my friend? Jethro," She stressed, "how long have you been telling yourself that? For as long as I have known you, I cannot doubt that you are one of the best men in my acquaintance, but if you had told me, well… I could have done something."

"What could you have done?"

"I do not know." She confessed more to herself than to him, "I suppose anything so that you would not be unhappy."

There was no one he had ever spoken to with such frankness, but the blacksmith was glad that it was her. Smithy could not imagine talking to anyone else with such freeness, but this was a start; a willingness to be more honest with the ones he cared about; to be open with the ones he loved. "You once asked me what my ambition was, and like anyone else, there are hopes for improvement, but in truth, my ambition is for you Jane. Nothing made me happier than to be useful to you and to watch as you accomplished your dream. I could not have told you that I fancied you, as much as I would have liked to because your dream would not have borne it nor would our friendship or differences in station."

The blacksmith had never spoken to her with such candor; it was as though she were seeing a whole new side of him but as refreshing, and different as it was, she knew what he expressed was true. She could not deny it, and it was frustrating to know that he must have suffered for quite some time because of his secret regard, but what about now? No longer was she in training, because as a full-fledged knight, Jane was now training other knight squires to serve in the king's guard. She knew of the consequence if she were to form an attachment, had used it as an excuse to keep others at a distance, but from what Jethro was saying, so did he. In some small part, it had made the lady knight fearful of losing someone like how her mother lost her father, but Jane did not want to live like that anymore. "And what about now?" Came her soft inquiry, "Do you plan to carry on as before, as though nothing has happened? Now that I know all this?"

"I do not," He resolved, and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and opening them to gaze back at that lovely face of hers, he expressed, "but now that you know, I realize that I cannot do this on my own."

The blacksmith never asked for help. Usually, he took care of his affairs and troubles on his own, so the fact that he needed help and acknowledged it meant that this was a monumental task. "Is there anything I can do to help Jethro? Please," She softened, "if I can, I want to help you."

The turbulent emotions that told Smithy that he should stop this fought against his better nature, but he trusted his friend. It was his way with words that he did not trust, but with as much strength as he could muster, he explained, "I need your permission, Jane."

"Why is that?"

"Because otherwise," He swallowed, "I will not know if I stand a chance in succeeding, but I would like to try."

The hand which she had laid on his arm she moved towards his heart and felt where it beat as wildly as hers. And glancing up towards those penetrating eyes, that gazed back at her with such longing, and conscientiousness, made her breath catch in her throat. It all was coming together, of why he always refrained in his actions towards her but never could fully conceal what he was feeling; he had been respecting her choice in remaining without attachment. It did not change the fact he cared for her, but unlike Jester or Gunther who had tried to force their feelings upon her, he waited and would have continued to wait until something changed. Moving her hand up to pass over his strong neck and stopping as she cupped his cheek, she answered with sincerity, "Go on, you have my permission."

Releasing the breath he had been holding, his marked regard got the better of him than, and he embraced her as though his life depended on it. It felt good to hold her in his arms, but her little gasp of surprise made him regret the next moment of his foolishness and he stepped away as though he had been burned. "Jane, I hope you will excuse me, I should not have done that."

Smithy had known for so long that he should not love her. And knowing of the lady knight's kindness, and the depth of her goodness, she would not trifle with him, and he would not blame her if she chose to reject him now. But glancing up at him, studying him, finding that she liked what she saw in his imploring eyes, Jane was glad that her heart was not mistaken in its choice. Her friend was scared, just like an animal that did not know if it could trust a person, and true to his word, he was not a practised charmer. Stepping forward, and wrapping her arms around him again, Jane reassured him, "There is nothing to apologize for because I quite like it right here." And rubbing his back, she cooed, "I like being held in your strong arms. Always have. Yes, I know it sounds shameful, but if you do not mind it, then everything is going to be alright. There is nothing to worry about."

Years ago, when the trouble with Pig arose, Jane had tried to comfort him by saying everything would be alright, but he had trouble believing her then. But now, after Jane had listened to words that he thought he would never say, and hearing those words of comfort again, he did believe her. "Truth be told, I thought this would end differently."

"Relieved?"

"Vastly."

"Good, because I was not sure how I was going to tell you either," She admitted, "but I might as well tell you that I love you."

If Pepper were here, she would be both cheering for them and scolding Jane for being inexperienced in the ways of romance. Of course, this was a peculiar time to think about that, but how else was she going to distract herself or her thunderous heart? Underneath her head, she could feel his heartbeat and how nervous he was in his refrain. Perhaps she had been a little forward, but the lady knight wanted him to understand as he tried to make her understand. Meaning his next question was not far-fetched. "How can that be?" Was his soft inquiry, "I thought you cared for Jester."

"At one time, I thought I did too, but now that I am older I know for certain that I could never care for him as he cares for me." Jane had tried and had a strong affection for the fool in her youth, but something changed; she took notice of someone else. "And the reason for that is because I had always cared for you, but could never quite place a name on what those feelings were until recently."

Finally, returning the warm embrace, struck with equal parts relief and joy, Smithy laughed. This happy noise rumbled through the blacksmith's strong chest, and he could scarcely believe what he had heard, but as long as he could hold on to his beloved, he may one day feel worthy of being blessed. When he sobered, he wondered, "What have we been doing Jane?"

"Dancing around each other I daresay."

"Do you mean to tell me that all this time I had nothing to be concerned about?"

"I suppose so."

For some time nothing more was said, and they stood there, enjoying the comfort that accompanied mutual affection. Yet, when a fair measure of time passed, and the sky had gotten darker, his amusement became apparent as he suggested, "Should we dance our way down to the kitchen?"

"We could," She considered, "but I rather stay here with you like this for a little longer if you do not mind. Unless you would rather go have dinner?"

"Do you need to ask?" Came his gentle reply.

"Yes," She answered, "because I do not want you to misunderstand, but what I want to know that has been bothering me since earlier is why you made mention of your station. You know that I could not care less about it."

"It was not your opinion that I was concerned about." He explained, "I did not want to trouble your father, but I suppose I will have to speak with him eventually. I can only imagine how that will go."

"I see, but do I not have to get to know you better first?" She teased. "It seems there is so much I do not know about you. How about it?"

With his breath brushing past her ear, he confessed, "Certainly, but when have I denied you anything?"

Looking up at those clear, inspiring eyes of his, she smiled, "Never. Which you probably should have, because it would have saved us a lot of trouble."

They were bantering now. Who knows how many more gifts Smithy would receive now that he had been awarded such affection, but he could not wait to learn about it all. A brightening of spirit took place then, and pressing a gloved hand to the back of her head, still trying to absorb what was happening, he wondered, "And what else can I do for you, Jane? To express my gratitude."

The blacksmith had done more for her family and friends than she could have ever asked for, and he still wanted to be generous. Mutual affection was a gift they could both enjoy, but being as bold as she was known to be, and wishing to comfort him in some small way after a lengthy time of unknown suffering, there seemed to be no better time than the present. Still, her cheeks burned hotly at her request, "You may kiss me."

His eyes widened at her words, but if the blacksmith had never denied the lady knight before, he certainly was not about to start now. Pulling away enough, so that he may look upon her, he had to admit that he could not remember a time she appeared as adorable nor as endearing, for the flush of embarrassment went from the tips of her ears and as far down as her neck. And bending forward, he whispered bemusedly, "It will be my pleasure."

Before he could allow his reason to take over, he pressed his lips against hers. This was what it meant to feel close to someone; when the melding of thoughts, minds, bodies, and scents made it impossible to know where one started and the other ended; whether this was life or a dream; of sinking, drowning, yielding of one's soul to be consumed by parted lips; for a few shed tears to trail down their warm, flushed cheeks; their affection being the consequence of them both. Was it real? It was for Smithy could not ignore the bite of Jane's fingernails that gripped his skin a bit too tightly nor how much it did hurt. And yet, even the pain was now his treasure.

When he pulled away to breathe, it would have been enough to stop there, for it was already more than he could have hoped, but Jane pulled him towards her and kissed him back with as much vigor as could be expected from the passionate redhead. He allowed urgency to overtake him, and squeezed her a fraction tighter, sighing into her mouth, hoping that it was not another dream he would be disappointed with the moment he waked, but if sadly this were a dream, it would be the dearest, sweetest one he would ever have. Just about as his head began to spin, and his heart having its fill of affection, she did let him go. Both were a little breathless albeit happy but knew that if they did not show up for the evening meal, their friends would assume the worst or discover the truth of what they had been doing. "Do you remember what we are supposed to be having for dinner?" Came the lady knight's random inquiry as she fanned her face with her hands, attempting to cool down her burning cheeks.

"I believe it is stew." He answered, smiling softly at her attempt to lighten the situation. "We should probably go down and get our portion."

"Right. Well, I will be right behind you." And after a moment's pause, Jane added, "After my face is not red."

"Jane, about what we talked about, and what just occurred, I will allow you to decide what you would like to do. Whatever you decide, will determine my next course of action. For now," he sighed, "we can carry on as before."

At some point, she would have to inquire as to how he managed to stay so calm after they had kissed each other as they had, but taking his gloved hand in hers, she stated, "Jethro, there is no way to go back to the way things were before, and I do not believe I would want them to, but we can talk about the rest of it tomorrow. For now, I am starved."

"Alright."

And as they made their way towards the kitchen, the fool who thought that by now his lady knight might be in his arms had been found in the arms of another. From beneath him, his knees seemed to fail, and his fists struck the stone; helpless from the tears that clouded his vision. This was not how it was supposed to go, but it was not the only plan he had up his sleeve. There was the honour of a lady of the court to consider after all.