A second later, a shadow blocked the sun and he glanced up to find Dragon's face inches from his own, wearing an expression of unmistakable menace.

"What did you say to her, short-life?" Dragon growled.

"I just told her she needs to rest! Surely you agree with that, Dragon! She has been pushing herself so hard, too hard –"

"Jane!" Dragon interjected. "Jane, talk to me – or even him – one of us!"

She gasped something out, but it was utterly incomprehensible. She did, however, drop her practice blade – she'd been holding onto it all this time – and drag her arms up to lock around Gunther's neck. She actually clenched a fistful of his hair in one of her hands, and he didn't think she was doing it intentionally but OW that hurt – he just gritted his teeth and endured it, though. There was no way he was going to pull back from her now.

Her gesture did accomplish this much; it convinced Dragon that Gunther was not somehow hurting her or holding her against her will. He backed very slightly off.

Gunther dropped his face into her hair, tightening his arms still further and murmuring "shh, shh, shh Jane," as she sobbed herself out.

It took a long time before he was able to decipher words and when he did, he almost wished he hadn't – they twisted his heart inside his chest.

"I… feel… so… useless," she gasped between hitching, erratic breaths.

"Are you mad!?" The words burst out of him before he had time to think, to consider whether this was something he should say. It was a gut reaction, and too powerful to be denied. "Jane! Jane! Stop and look at me. Look at me now!"

He pushed her back to arm's length, bracing her with one hand and pressing the other to the side of her face. "Does it even matter to you that I am still alive!?" he demanded. "Jane! Does that matter!?"

"Yes!" she managed, struggling to get her breathing under control. "Of course that matters, Gunther!"

"Well you are the reason," he said, speaking more quietly now, but with great emphasis. "Does that sound useless to you? My God, woman, I would be dead if not for you! How could you – how could you ever think –" he shook his head in frustration. But at least he had her attention now; that counted for something. He swallowed hard and tried again.

"When we walked into that clearing, who was the first one – the only one – to see the enemy before they broke cover? It was you. Who gave the rest of us that split-second warning that I am sure saved lives? You. Who saw the danger I was in, from across the clearing, when I never even saw it myself? You. Who somehow… covered all that distance…"

He was having to fight for composure now. Whenever he thought of Jane doing that, running flat-out like that, in order to fling herself into danger, in order to damn near give her life for him – he almost came undone.

But this was important, so he sucked in a deep breath, mastered himself, and continued – "Covered all that distance moving faster than… than anyone should have a right to move, in order to save me from something that I was too blind to see – you. Jane, it was all you. And then who… who pushed on for days after… when any… anyone else would… have…"

No, it was no good. If it was hard to think about Jane hurtling herself across that clearing in order to take an arrow – a godamned poisoned arrow – in his stead, it was impossible to think about the way she'd suffered afterward, on the journey home, with any degree of rationality or coherence. Anytime he even approached it in his mind, a single thought would surface, eclipsing all others; never forgive myself. Ever. Ever. Not even if I live to be a hundred. I will never forgive myself.

And that was where that line of thought would end. As it ended now. And his ability to be articulate ended with it.

Suddenly he couldn't even look directly at her any longer, this spectacular woman he had so utterly failed. He dropped his head and when he next spoke, his voice was a raw whisper.

"How could I have let that happen? How could I have done that to you?"

"I have actually been wondering the same thing myself," Dragon muttered, from where he'd settled on his haunches nearby.

That was what brought Jane's head up with a jerk. "Dragon!"

"Jane!" her friend rejoined, rolling his eyes. He was still projecting a sense of concern, but he was significantly calmer than he'd been a moment ago.

She refocused her attention on Gunther, drew in breath to speak – but he forestalled her. "No, let me… let me try to get through this," he said, raising his eyes again to meet her tear-bright green gaze.

"What you said… right after you woke up. About how if I ever had to –" he broke off, swallowed hard – "to lose you, I would go on, I would fulfill my oath to the king because that is who we are and what we do… it was true. It was… brutal, and not something I wanted to hear, but it was true. But I wonder if you understand – Jane, something would go on, yes, something that looked like me, some shell – but it would not really be me, not –"

He shook his head. "I would be over, Jane. I might keep breathing, keep moving, keep fighting… I would certainly go looking for vengeance. Nothing would stand in the way of that. But inside? No, just… no. That is how necessary you are to me, how indispensible. Not to mention, five times the knight I will ever be. Does that sound useless to you? Does it!?"

"No," she breathed. Then she slammed her eyes shut, causing two more fat tears to spill over and streak down her cheeks. She was biting on her lip again, worrying it. "No, but –"

"Huh-uh." He was reaching for her again, folding her against himself, feeling her head fall against his shoulder with a gentle thud. "Stop yourself. There is no 'but'. Let it be."

She gave a deep, shuddering sigh, and they stayed like that for a very long time – long enough for Dragon to make a final, disgruntled noise and settle himself back down to resume his nap. Gunther was wondering if Jane had fallen asleep in his arms herself, when she finally stirred.

Raising her head, she tried for a smile. It was a valiant effort, but not particularly successful. "I, uh… think I had better go lie down," she said.

Gunther heartily agreed.

"Gunther, I… am sure you have things to do today, but later – um, tonight – would you come? To my room? I… have not been sleeping well and I think that is part of my problem and I just… I think it might be better… if you were there?"

He simply gawped at her for a moment – then realized his mouth was hanging open and shut it with a snap, raking a hand distractedly through his hair as he did so.

"Well… yes," he said, once he'd collected himself to the point where he could speak at all. "Yes, if you… want me to, then of course. Of course, Jane."

She made a second, marginally more successful attempt at a smile and whispered, "thank you."

Gunther reached out, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheeks, wiping tears away. "You do not have to thank me." Then he smiled back and, wondering if she would remember, said, "your mother would have to chase me off with a stick."

"Do not be seen," Jane said gravely, "or she most assuredly will."