Jane's tears had been a long time in coming, and so it took a long time for them to run their course.

Gunther held her through it all, until the sobs gave way to sheer exhaustion, finally abating to hiccups and ragged, hitching little breaths. She pulled away from him then and he let her; she sat upright for only a second or two, then slumped back against the stone wall, eyes closed.

A hectic, splotchy flush was spread out along the tops of her cheeks, tendrils of flame-colored hair pasted to her tear-sticky face. Gunther reached out with a hand that shook slightly, and brushed the errant curls back and away. She dragged in a deep, shuddery breath at the contact, and her hand shot up, catching his and holding it pressed against her too-warm cheek.

"I am so sorry," she whispered hoarsely, not opening her eyes. "I do not, I... should not have... you have a trip to prepare for; you should be packing, or... resting... you certainly did not need to be... to be... subjected to this..."

"I am not going anywhere." Gunther's voice was quiet, but emphatic.

That was when Jane's eyes flew open. They stared at each other in silence for a long, spiraling moment - then she shook her head; a tired, unhappy gesture.

"Do not dare stay here out of pity for me. That is the worst thing you could possibly do, the worst thing in the world."

Gunther's eyes narrowed, his jawline hardening. "Do not dare imply that pity is all I feel for you. That is the worst thing you could possibly do to me."

Jane gave a small chuff of laughter; it was an uncharacteristically bitter, jaded little sound. "If not pity, then what? What, Gunther?"

Now it was his turn to shake his head. A small, somewhat rueful smile quirked one corner of his mouth. "You make nothing easy, Jane, you know that? Nothing." He inhaled deeply; it was clear that he was bracing himself. The expression on his face said that what he was about to do would be difficult; almost painful. But he never looked away from her eyes - not this time.

"JaneIloveyou."

The words ran together, seeming to be expelled by force. Yes, he'd spoken those words in his mind a thousand, thousand times. And yes, he'd whispered them aloud - when there'd been no chance of her actually hearing them. And yes, he'd even said them directly to her before, as he'd held her struggling, scorching body in the ice bath, out of his mind with fear that every harsh, gasping breath she drew in would be her last. But he'd never spoken them face-to-face before; not with Jane staring back at him, her astonishingly green eyes widening at their import.

"I love you so much," he continued, making himself slow down and speak clearly through an act of sheer will, "that it scares me to death."

"But... then -" she was still holding his hand against the side of her tearstained face - "Gunther, why were you going to leave?"

At this, all traces of smile - rueful or otherwise - vanished completely from his face. His lips wrenched violently downward, his expression becoming a study in anger, pain and self-recrimination.

"God, Jane, is it not obvious!" He yanked his hand away from her, breaking their connection. "Think about what you just told me, everything that happened to you, I -"

"You do not want me anymore because... of what he did?"

Her words were quiet - she barely more than breathed them. Still, they halted Gunther mid-sentence and caused his jaw, for a heartbeat's worth of time, to actually drop.

Then his eyes were blazing grey fire. A heartbeat later he had her by the shoulders again and now he was shaking her. He really was.

"Do not ever think that! Ever, Jane! EVER! I was leaving because I am not worthy of you! I did not protect you - I failed you over, and over, and over again! And do not give me that line about how you can take care of yourself," he added, when her eyes flashed and her jaw set - "it is not that you needed my protection as a woman, it is that you deserved it as my fellow knight! We are supposed to have one another's backs - always. Always! It has been drilled into us since we were children! And I - Damn it, Jane, I let you down. I just... and when I think about the price you had to pay for my failure... God, it makes me sick. It makes me sick with myself." He broke off; shook his head once, hard. Shot abruptly to his feet and paced to the opposite end of the tower-top, then back again. Raked a hand through his hair; then folded his arms across his chest, leaned sideways against the rampart, and tipped his head back, toward the sky. Looking at what? Jane couldn't tell.

When he spoke again, still staring resolutely upward, his voice was hoarse. "You deserve so much more, so much better, than me. That is why I was leaving, Jane."

Slowly, she unfolded herself to her feet and crossed to where he was. Wrapped her arms around him from behind, letting her head fall to his shoulder with a gentle thud.

"But Gunther," she said, her lips moving against the fabric of his shirt, "you are all I want."

"So you said." He sighed. "And so, I stay. I still think you are doing yourself a disservice, Jane, but... if by leaving I would hurt you, then I will stay. For as long as you want me, I will stay."

"Thank you," she whispered, becoming aware that she was soaking his shirt with yet more tears - they were slow and silent now, but still coming. "Thank you, Gunther."

"For what?" he asked, a bitter edge to his voice. "You are selling yourself short."

"How about you let me decide that for myself?" she said, disengaging from him to stand upright once more. "Do you think you could do that?"

He turned around to face her. "Yes, I can do that," he said, his dark grey eyes boring into hers, "but only because I am such a selfish bastard that I will let you make a poor decision if it means I can stay near you."

"Gunther, you are too hard on yourself -"

"No. I am not." He reached out a hand and framed the side of her face, his fingers tangling in her hair and his thumb lightly tracing the shape of her cheekbone. "Jane, tell me something. Is there..." he trailed off for a second; seemed to be struggling for composure. Although Jane didn't know it, he was about to give voice to a question that had been tormenting him, day and night, for weeks. He was having difficulty finding the right words.

"Is there... do you... was there any..." he raked his other hand through his hair again; a distracted, agitated gesture.

"Gunther, what -?"

"Is there any chance at all that you could be with child?"

When he finally forced the words out, his voice was brittle; it sounded as if something inside him was dangerously close to breaking. And Jane simply stared at him. And stared.

And stared.

Finally, she stammered out, "what... on earth are you -"

"Because it would not matter to me if you were," he said quickly. Then frowned. "No, wait. Hell. That did not sound right at all. Of course it would matter, but -"

"Gunther -"

"- But it would not change anything, that is what I meant to say. I would -"

"Gunther -"

"- Give the child my name, and we could -"

"Gunther! Stop!"

He did stop, at last, breathing hard, staring at her with haunted eyes, seeming to fully expect her next words to confirm his worst fears.

"Gunther, what - why would you -" now she was the one who was finding it hard to string a coherent sentence together. She stopped and shook her head. Tried again.

"Look, I admit that my knowledge in this area is limited and... entirely secondhand, but I was under the distinct impression that... that there was more involved in creating... babies than -"

"Than what?" All of a sudden, Gunther seemed to be virtually... crackling with intensity. A wild, impossible hope had just kindled inside of him but he was stomping down on it, hard, unwilling to let himself believe.

"Jane, what did he do, exactly? Tell me." And then a second later, more quietly, "please."

"He, um... kissed me..." she winced at the memory of it, and Gunther winced too, as if he'd been struck a blow. "It was vile, he..." she lapsed into silence for a moment and swiped one hand hard across her face, scrubbing away her tears almost angrily.

"All right. He kissed you." Gunther's voice still had that odd, brittle quality. Despite that tiny, rogue flicker of hope that was clinging to life deep inside of him, he was clearly bracing himself to hear something devastating. "Then what? I have... I have to know."

Jane's brow furrowed. "Then, nothing. Well, nothing that would result in a child -"

"Not possible," Gunther's voice was flat with hatred. "I saw the way that piece of filth looked at you, at the banquet that night. He would not have stopped at a kiss. Did you black out? Could it -"

"No, I did not black out!" Jane cut across him, temper starting to flare, swiping away more tears as she spoke. "I did not faint away like some helpless beribboned maiden, if that is what you are implying, and no, he would not have stopped on his own, you are right about that, but he did stop because I kneed him."

"You... you WHAT?"

"I kneed him. Right where it hurts a man the most. My arms were bound but not my legs and when... when he... I did not think, there was no time, I just... acted. I... I had done it before I even realized that I planned to do it, and then he was on the ground, and his men held me until he got up again and he -" she swallowed thickly - "he hit me, hard, so hard I could not breathe and then he ordered me whipped and... and he probably did have further plans for me but then you were there, you and Dragon, and... and -" her eyes widened then, full understanding finally clicking into place; she looked completely aghast in that moment - "and dear God, Gunther, surely you did not think...?"

But of course the expression on his face told her exactly what he'd thought.

"You did," she breathed. "Gunther, no, oh my God, no -"

And then she was cut off as he let go with what could only be described as a whoop - and a mighty one at that - and a heartbeat later he was crushing her to him, with such force that her feet came off the ground, with such force that she could scarcely breathe.

So she did what came naturally. She wrapped her arms around him and held him back, feeling as she did that he was shaking, hard, every bit of him, from head to foot. She twined her fingers in the dark hair that just barely grazed his collar, loving the heat of him, the strength, the vibrancy, the way his heart was thudding in his chest, pressed so close against her own - fast, it was beating so fast.

In that moment, her terrible nightmare of losing him - of watching him slip to his knees, of watching the light behind those grey eyes slowly flicker out, seemed far, far away. And though she did not know it at the time, this moment marked the beginning of the end for that awful, recurring dream. It would steadily decline in frequency until it became nothing more than a vague, unhappy memory.

Then he was pushing her gently but firmly back; holding her at arm's length, just staring at her with an expression of dazed happiness and... wonderment? Yes, it did look like wonderment - wonderment bordering on outright awe.

"You kneed him," he said, and his tone was marveling. "Incredible. My incredible Jane. God, I love you." He reached up then, to frame her face with both his hands. Warm, rough, calloused, combat-hardened hands - how she loved them in that moment; loved all of him, every inch.

"Jane," he murmured then, his eyes burning into hers, his voice so hoarse it was nearly unrecognizable, "if I were to kiss you right now, you would not knee me, would you?"

There was a spark of humor, of laughter in his expression as he spoke; but beyond that, further down, there was also a flicker of deep uncertainty that she found amazingly endearing. How could he still doubt, even now?

"Gunther..." she brought her own hands up to catch his face, all scratchy stubble under her palms, mirroring the way he was holding hers with almost perfect accuracy.

"Yes?"

"I believe I may knee you if you do not."

"God forbid," he said, and then his lips were crashing down on hers and for a long time there was no more talking.

OOOOO

(A/N: well you guys have been so patient I figured I'd finally make with the happy ending - even though I know you were all hoping for a really tragic, frustrating ending where Gunther rides away and they both spend the rest of their lives pining for one another in silent, miserable desperation... haha, not! Short epilogue to follow in a couple of days, then fic will be complete! :)