[Yay for Jane and the Dragon although nobody I know IRL knows about it. At least there's fanfiction :D. Oh, and sorry I fast-forward-ed to the ball in this chapter, since there really isn't much fluff left to go on if it's just about preparations for the ball. So here goes. Long chapter is long. Read and review if you please.]

-.-.-

It was the afternoon before the ball. It had been a swelteringly hot day; Jane swore the sun was doing all it could to cause misery on those who labored under the hot sky, preparing the castle for the festivities that evening.

Pepper was in a fire of her own, cooking up the usual feast, stoves and ovens never ceasing. Rake was busy fixing up the garden and ballroom with the usual rose decorations, with Smithy helping out with his tools here and there. Gunther was off with his father, Magnus Breech the merchant, unloading the supplies that the castle had purchased for the day. The chamberlain was attending to all the associated paperwork, and re-checking the invitation list. The knights were on patrol, as usual, and had assigned Dragon to do the same, mostly to keep him out of everyone's way. The king was his usual cheery self, the prince his usual angsty teenage self, and Lavinia was being attended to by her mother and several ladies-in-waiting.

Meanwhile, Jane was in utmost physical and psychological pain. She was finally putting on the dress.

"Ouch! Mother!" Jane hissed as she felt a pin find the skin of her upper arm. She rubbed the site fervently, through the frills and fabric that constituted her sleeves.

"Ooh, sorry, dearie," her mother said, putting the disfigured sewing pin in a growing pile of bent pins. "My eyes are tearing up; it's been so long since you've put on a dress."

"Yes, yes, I understand," she said, trying to be consoling, but now her head, as well as her arm - and several other pin-pricked places on her body - were throbbing in pain. "But could you please let the seamstress do the job?" She wanted to add "properly," but realized that it would only irritate the lady-in-waiting further. Jane didn't want an ill-tempered mother holding those sewing pins.

"Oh, I guess you're right," her mother finally said with a sigh. She put down the fabric and needles she had been holding on to, just in case the seamstress asked for her help - which, thankfully, the seamstress didn't. "I should probably leave this work to a professional."

The seamstress merely nodded at this, and continued attaching the different pieces of cloth that were Jane's gown.

"It's coming together beautifully. I couldn't have asked for a better model for it," the seamstress continued, appreciatively. "I am sure your date to the ball will be happy."

"W-what?" Jane said, blushing furiously in the mirror. "What are you talking about? A d-date?"

"Well, now, I just thought someone might have asked you to the ball," the seamstress said, a kindly smile on her face. "And judging by your face, I think someone has."

"Jane!" her mother said, suddenly jumping in on the conversation. Her voice was stern, but somehow Jane got the feeling that she was actually happy about something. "You must let your mother know these kinds of things. You hadn't told me that someone asked you to the ball."

"No one has!" Jane suddenly shouted, her face still red. "No, I mean, someone has, but I didn't want you to know-."

"No 'but's, Jane, you must tell me now. You haven't told me all week, and now I don't know if your outfits will match, and-,"

"Mother, it's not a big deal," she snapped, with finality. "We were all too busy all week, anyway, I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. But I didn't want it, it was supposed to be just a little bet between us; 'Who could grow their hair longer?' That was all. No big deal."

"Ooooh, I knew it," her mother suddenly said, delight on her face. "It's Gunther, isn't it? I knew something happened since you started letting your hair grow long like that. Oh sweetie, you should have just told me that you liked him."

"I never said-," her face grew an even deeper shade of red.

"Some things don't have to be said, Jane," her mother said, nodding her head. "Now let's close this dress up on you; don't want to be late for your big night."

-.-.-

"Oh, hey, you there, gardener, blacksmith," Dragon called wildly, perching atop the royal garden wall. "Hey, is everyone still busy?"

"Actually, Dragon, yes, we're all still quite busy," he said, carrying one end of what seemed to be a heavy cast iron outdoor bench. Smithy carried the other end. "What is it you wanted?"

"Have you seen Jane around? I've hardly been able to talk to her all week. I swear, that old knight and that lady-in-waiting are plotting something, keeping me and Jane apart like this," he said, contemptedly, his dragon nostrils flaring and puffing smoke dangerously.

"Jane's been trying on her new dress, that's all. And doing double-duty since the ball's going to be grander this year. The princess was so elated that Jane had promised to wear a dress, so she ordered everything twice as grand." he said, once they'd set the bench down, the fourth in a ring around the fountain.

"Oh, well, in that case, I'll just have to wait for her, then, all by myself out here, alone, and by myself," Dragon said, in an exaggeratedly loud voice.

"Don't worry, Dragon, the ball will start soon enough, then she'll be in her dress by then, and you'll get to see her."

"No, it's okay, I'll go look for someone else to talk to then. Have fun with those benches; seem like a waste of iron to me, though," he said, and took off.

-.-.-

Dragon flew a few minutes over the castle, peering in mixed amusement and disgust at all the short-lives bumbling about.

"All in celebration of one night. Well there's one-tenth of all your entire lifespan gone, short-lives," he said, shouting down at the people who did not hear him. "Tch, really. This whole affair has left without anyone to talk to. Except cows, maybe, not that they could hold conversation, or anything, though."

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Gunther or the Jingle-boy all week, either. Were they plotting something?

"Oh, look, there's the Jingle-boy now. Maybe he could tell me," he said, as he squinted down at the courtyard and saw Jester hurrying from one parapet to the next, creeping suspiciously.

"Hey, hey Jingle-boy, wait up," he said, zooming in behind Jester.

Jester flinched and ducked as Dragon landed on the wall right in front of him.

"Hey, Jingle-boy, in the lack of anyone better to talk to, there's a couple of things I've been wanting to ask. How dare you people ignore me all week, and-," Dragon said, dusting himself off, then nearly did a backflip when he finally took a look at the boy. "What on earth are you wearing?" he asked, shocked.

"Ssssshhh," Jester hissed, waving Dragon down frantically. "Keep quiet, I don't want anyone to see me yet."

"Well, I can see why not," Dragon said, cocking his head quizzically. "What are you wearing, anyway? And when did your hair get so-,"

"Don't. Tell. Anyone," Jester said, his voice ice-cold. "It's a surprise for tonight, so don't sell me out."

"Alright, I promise I won't," he said, rolling his eyes. "Just tell me, why are you dressed like that for the ball?"

"It's part of a bet for tonight," he said, dusting off his sleeves and walking around Dragon.

"But wasn't that bet between Jane and Gunther? Who could dress better tonight?"

"Ooh, that's not what I told Gunther," Jester said, as he walked away, a smile on his face.

-.-.-