*I don't own jane and the dragon or its characters

A/n: This story excites and saddens me. It might be because I usually write and prefer fluff, and I'm disappointed in my ability to write Smithy. I feel as though he's being too moody, and ugh. Someone, anyone, feel free to tell me if my Smithy is too Ooc. And special thanks to Sunrise19, who leaves lovely comments.

As of Nov 27, 2020 this chapter was edited for clarity, to fix spelling and grammar, as well as other errors.

As of March 3, 2021 this chapter was edited for clarity, to fix spelling and grammar, as well as other errors.

Chapter 3:Honest Jealousy

With clenched fists, Gunther kneeled before the princess to accept the daisy chain. With pride, Lavinia started, "I proclaim you my eternal protector, who shall serve me even in the shadows, and burn against the light and obey my every command." And pausing for a moment to take a deep breath, she studied him, finding that she preferred a subdued Gunther over a loud one. She continued, "Now if you would be so kind as to help me upon my pony, so that I may ride upon her and laugh at the Prince of the Wind, who thought himself grand enough to please me."

The Princess at fourteen years old still held an air of playfulness which was especially apparent when Gunther was most unhappy. Jane assumed that perhaps her little majesty was not so little anymore. Why, she dared to believe it possible, that Lavinia had fallen in love with him; believing Gunther could be a fairy prince whose soul was divided into two entities, and only her love could reclaim him. Or, it might have been her attempt to keep him distracted. Nevertheless, Jane would remain vigilant about that matter, as well as her mother, who had similar suspicions.

Before her stood dummy, and beside dummy stood the fool. "Now that is classic."

Indeed, it was amusing, but there were still tasks to be done. "Her little majesty might be convinced to spare Gunther in place of the man who fell from the moon."

"Are you referring to me?"

"If I was not," Jane reasoned, "then I might as well say I meant Dragon, though I am not so convinced he could pretend as well as you could."

Dragon might have been persuaded if she asked him, but he looked preoccupied at the moment with the castle's latest cow. "He may be a beef brain," She continued, "but Gunther takes his duty very seriously, and I will require his skills to help me when these recruits are acting particularly stupid."

"Do I have to?"

"Who else will assist me with these young minds?" Jane reasoned, "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Fine, but not yet. I am enjoying the view."

Not this again. Jest or not, she had neither the patience nor the time. "Jester, if you could enjoy the view from somewhere else, it would be helpful."

But at times he seemed to have selective hearing; almost like her mother. "Seeing as none of them are more handsome than Dragon, I am relieved to say there will be no threat to my happiness."

Again she noticed it, heard it in that tone of voice, saw it in that look; it was what she had been avoiding for eight years. As a young woman of a certain class, many wanted to trap her in the binding vows of marriage; whether it was for her novelty, appearance, or title. It scared her, for it had taken years to earn the freedom she had always wanted, and it would take longer for other small freedoms. Not now, and perhaps not him as she once thought it may have been; the years had allowed her time for reflection. "Jester, this is not the time. I do not find this...whatever has been going on lately as amusing as you would believe. This competition with other men, as though….you understand do you not?"

It was an annoyance, as well as pain. She cared for Jester, loved him as her best human friend, but in the end, his constant attention, his flightiness, and his artist personality, was his gift, but a curse to their compatibility. No, no one will control her, claim her as though it was destined, or if life had set a plan, stripping her of free will. No, no one will do that ever again, not even well-meaning friends. Jester did not acknowledge her discomfort, but he played along. "Forgive me, my lady Knight, for the stars in your eyes encourage this wild heart of mine."

Pretty words they were, but one grows immune to such flattery when faced with it daily. She tightened the grip on her wooden sword; almost at her wits end. "We will speak of it later. For now, either face the wrath of my sword or run."

He ran with a smile on his face until he reached the stables; delighted that he had incurred her anger. True, it was unkind to goad her or to tease, but it illuminated the facets of her eyes that the fool could not help but crave for a proper tongue-lashing if it meant a sliver of such rare beauty. Oh, how he wanted to frown at those bright-eyed peasants looking upon his Jane. Worse yet, the fool's heart was twisting with an ugliness he thought he had put away; jealousy that ate away at him until even his friends seemed like foes. And nearby there was another enemy to his happiness; his friend Smithy who was brushing his beloved's horse.

Smithy shook his head, trying to stop his current line of thought. Jane was a living spark, the kind that caused forest fires, whose heat scorched any who were not careful. He knew it would not be wise to entertain the idea, any idea that involved her. Yet, there he was, admiring the sight of her scolding one of the new recruitments while brushing the fur of Jane's brown mare. Sensing his anxiety, the horse neighed, pushing her head into his hand, trying to comfort him in its way. "Steady girl. I will be fine, so there is no need to worry."

In truth, he would be fine. He had faced greater things, more detrimental, painful important things, and this would not claim him. "I will not worry."

The fool was careful to not get so close, or else the animals may betray him; sensing his false sincerity. "Worry about what?"

"Nothing Jester, just the usual things there are to worry about."

"I see. Another pig of a problem is it not?"

Turning his head to appreciate the view, Jester sighed, "Jane is looking very pretty today, ay? Well, every day she is prettier than the last."

The blacksmith paused his activity but soon resumed. There was some truth to Jester's words, but Jane's outward beauty only complemented that of her inward beauty; of the kind, self-sacrificing soul that was always ready to help her friends. Smithy's reply had been one that Jester had said to Jane many years ago. "She is yearn."

Hmm, was that a rosy tint on the tips of the blacksmith's ears? As Jester had suspected, Smithy was not so blind to women after all. Though, this revelation served as little consolation for they both favoured the same girl and that would not do. "You have a great view of the yard I dare say. Why, you have a front-row seat to marvel at her, though I am sure horses are your preference."

It may have been a mistake, but for a moment Smithy thought there might have been double meaning in his friend's words. Then again, it was Jester, he had a talent with words. It did not matter, because he did not think himself any greater or lower than his friend, but similar, in a sense. "Animals are the only living creatures that are honest. So yes," The blacksmith admitted, "I prefer them above everything else."

The fool's eyes glistened as he watched Jane and Gunther in their usual competition. Gunther had just finished explaining the reason for patience and discipline while finding ways to annoy Jane until she burst with anger. Of course, she knew this, so she explained the need to guard your heart, for it was a treacherous thing. "You still have not told her?" Smithy wondered.

"What can be said Smithy? I try to tell her all the time, but she believes I am jesting. If I was like you, then perhaps she would have reason to say yes."

Smithy raised his eyebrows, for he did not believe this. Jester, in his moment of jealousy of Gunther, had forgotten the jealousy for the blacksmith, but he remembered it soon enough. If Jester was like Smithy, there was no doubt he would have had the strength to defeat Gunther, not only with a sword but permanently if he needed to. Yet, his strength lay elsewhere; in his words, being already a step above the blacksmith. If he needed to, twisting stories would not hurt either. "Say, you must know it by now."

"Hmm?"

"Certainly you have heard what the chambermaids have said of you."

The fool looked away, waiting for the proper response. "I have not." Replied the blacksmith.

The fool hoped for better, but he was not finished yet. "Why it was only the other day, I was passing along, when I heard the laughter of two young maidens, and thought, 'Are not women in another class of their own?' and then your name was mentioned along with two other words, and it was laughter, a blush, and a tease."

"Are you not going to say?"

There, he was sure he had him now. "They called you handsome and named you stable prince. There was more, but it was rather delicate, and one teased the other, so I lost my nerve and held onto my hat as I ran the other way."

"Oh, that is all?"

Smithy knew a few fancied him, and dared to think him handsome, but was that it? What of his pain, of his intellect, of his love of nature, of his kindness, did any of that matter?

"Come now, are you not touched that a female has set her sights on you?"

"It is flattering, but I am not a conquest, I am a blacksmith."

"And I am a fool in love, but while I cannot do anything to help myself, I know there must be some way to help you, for I know that you are unhappy."

The word the fool should have said was lonely. Happiness was what everyone craved, but the blacksmith had moments of it. Though, when he saw her leave every day, the effect was immediate. "Thank you, Jester, but perhaps another time."

"Very well then. If I can help, do not hesitate to ask. I might even convince the young maiden to make her feelings known to you."

"That will not be necessary, but thank you anyway."

"Alright, have it your way. It is about time for me to get going, and see if the little majesties will need assistance in their language studies."

Jester would have to take action if he planned to succeed, and he had an idea of where to start. Without conversation as an excuse, Smithy returned to his duty. He did not mind it for his work kept him busy enough, but every so often he felt the pang of what he might have called loneliness. Horses were honest, people were not. In time, he would learn to be just as honest, but it might one day be his downfall.

After the training practice was over, Gunther again brought up dangerous topics; ones she would rather avoid. So she inquired of his horse or the rising prices of grains; Jane had her father to thank for the useful information. This frustrated him; it was already hard to voice his intentions. Jane heard him, and he frowned at her behaviour but did not relent; it was not his fault she was being stubborn like always. "Bat bladders Jane, you know exactly what I mean to say, do you not?"

"Of course, I do, and I also know orchids are wicked expensive, but I do not complain. If you will excuse me, I have other matters to take care of."

"This is not over Jane."

"And another time I will be ready with expense reports from the last harvest." She commented over her shoulder.

If she did not find something to do, then she would surely go mad. And as though her wishes were heard, Pig walked straight to her with a buckle in her mouth, dropping it before her. She recognized it at once, being the missing buckle from her saddlebag. "Thank you Pig."

How would she fix it if she did not know how to fix it? A furtive glance towards the stables made it obvious; she had to go to the one person who could. Perhaps, Smithy could keep her distracted, and perhaps she would like it.