A/N: I did not anticipate how much writing sad boi Gunther reminds me of the old fashioned, brooding hero in a romance novel. I have to think about it, but I might consider writing a Jane x Gunther fic with a grown Gunther and the consequences of the romance, but there are so many well written fics about him. Anyway, I would like to thank Fluffymarshmallows and awes0mesaucer for comments that encourage me to post faster and for all who are still following this story. I might place more emphasis on Jester and Smithys friendship next chapter. That or on the rumors that might start. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter 22: Shall We Dance?
Clear skies, blustering breezes, and a willing heart added to the pleasantness of the day; despite the cooler weather, he worked up a sweat moving the tables, barrels, and stools about. With little to do but to assist with the preparations, Smithy thought about what he should wear this evening; there would be little time to freshen up, but perhaps a change of clothes would help. There was the old tunic he had gotten from Sir Theodore and the clothes from Jane's father but neither seemed suitable for the occasion; they were old-fashioned. Yet, for the slight chance that he would get to dance with her, washing his face and change of clothes should be enough.
Setting down a barrel, he stopped for a moment to retrace his thoughts. He was concerned about his cleanliness, but why? As a stable hand as well as the blacksmith, it was rare if he had clean hands let alone a clean face; the smell of horses and smoke followed him like his shadow. However, when he pictured the sight of Jane dancing, and or judging who was the better dancer among his friends, he froze when he realized that he had wanted to dance with her. Sure, it would not be the first time, but he never gave it much thought before; Jester and Gunther had always been more forward about their intentions, and now here he was becoming just as foolish.
Was this the consequence of being near her flame? Being softened and shaped according to her will? It must have been. In her naivete, she had gained her fair share of admirers, but it was not her fault; never on purpose. And yet, here he was, following after her, although he had determined to be a good friend.
However, Smithy was not as afraid as he had been before. The matter of knowing what he wanted, needed and should do had disciplined him a great deal. Prioritizing the need of the greater rather than the few had made a few things easier, but he still would dream. And from where he stood, the echo of laughter that emanated from the kitchen could be heard; the signature unrestrained amusement from the lady knight warmed his heart; glad that he could relish from her joy, even from afar. What he had not known was that he was being watched; that his features were being admired.
Jane had always known he was strong, but she wondered if the absence of his society had made her more conscious of him. With ease, he moved tables and heavy barrels about; the prominent outline of his thick muscles grabbing her attention. She supposed that swinging hammers everyday would do wonders for one's strength, and thought appreciatively that she should give it a try to increase her upper body strength. And although she was used to seeing muscle-bound men due to her duties, none of them drew her attention in the way she was being drawn now. Perhaps it had to do with the owner of such strength.
Oh no; her mind had wandered again. It was distressing enough to think of the charm and appeal of men, but when it happened to be her friend; one who in the entirety of their acquaintance never expressed such regard. What was she thinking? Perhaps the absurdity of it was the novelty.
Jane thought the morning patrol would have given her the time to help sort out her thoughts, but it had only made her more curious about her quiet friend. She knew his real name, and a few of his interests, but what did she really know about him? He was older than her, but what else? As she thought of this, she observed how he smiled when Pig had waddled up to him, and how gentle his expression was as he set down another barrel right before bending down to pet her. This made Jane wonder what face he would make when he met his beloved; whenever that special day came.
From behind her, she heard the cook giggling, causing Jane to spin back around and return to her task of chopping vegetables; willing herself not to blush.
"I saw that you know." Commented the cook.
"What are you talking about, Pepper?"
The cook did not answer; allowing time for Jane to draw her conclusions, but she went into a reverie. "That must be how it starts sometimes. I remember when I saw Rake for the first time and thought what a pretty grandchild the gardener had."
"Pretty?"
"Yes." she giggled; aware of how odd it must have sounded to the she knight. "Silly me, thinking that he was a girl for those first couple of months. Oh, what lovely times those were. We used to play around and I would make him pies out of mud, while he would give me flowers from the garden. Though, I do wonder at times when it had all changed."
This did catch Jane's interest. "You do not remember?"
"No."
"Then, how did you know?"
"You see, it had been so gradual. I had so many ideas of what I had wanted to do, and who I thought I would marry, but I daresay, I might have loved Rake all my life. Petal, all I do know is that one day I glanced out this window and watched as he was talking to the vegetables, and thought to myself that I would not mind if I could look upon that scene forever."
As silly as the cook could be at times, Jane could not laugh at that. Everyone knew that the cook and gardener had always been sweet on each other, but what they had sounded nothing like the ballads or the tales from a storybook; it was not fickle, painful, or dramatic, rather it was the work of time. After that, when Pepper finished her reverie, she hummed to herself, stirring her stew that already smelled delicious. Jane for her part continued her task; wondering what she was supposed to do with this new information.
Candles, torches, and braziers provided warmth and light. The moon and all her brilliance shone upon them; it was a delight. Pepper and Rake made a hearty stew, including a batch of swamp water stew for Dragon; he had come for the food but stayed for the company. There was a pumpkin loaf, as well as enough bread to go around; the cooks and the gardener's hands were tired but proud.
All was well, and the conversation mild until the question of dancing came up; the air was crisp, and it lent itself to it. The fool showed off a few of his new dance moves, as well as a couple of acrobatic routines which never failed to amaze. And with the combined effort of clapping hands, Pepper and Rake danced around a large pumpkin that Dragon later decided to roast up and eat. Yet, when it came to who would dance with Jane, no one could come to an agreement on whom it ought to be.
Gunther, with his chest, puffed out like a pigeon listed off the reasons as to why the fool should step away or risk getting into a fight, while Jester imitated Sir Ivon and barked orders at him. For his part, Smithy held tightly to his piece of metal and hit it with his hammer to make a beat; before him was a comedy show rather than the music appreciation, party, ball, or whatever this celebration was supposed to be anymore. Jane seemed conflicted on who to choose whether it should be her fellow Knight or her old friend. If this had been a real ball, she could have made her excuses or found a different dance partner which might have been the princess or some stranger altogether.
However, no one here was a stranger; everyone was a friend, and Jane did not want to hurt anyone. There were no previous promises, and by siding with one or the other, she might make an enemy, but a choice had to be made. Dragon was far too large, and Rake was married, so who else could there be? Was there not anyone she could be herself with? Then, as though she were struck, a champion idea came to her. "Smithy has reserved the first two dances."
Everyone's eyes turned towards the blacksmith, confused at this development while he was confused as to why she began to use his title again. Yet, Jane realized the mistake she had made and inquired in a softer voice. "Right Jethro?"
Studying her, he sensed how her whole being implored him; hoping he would understand without having to ask. His breath nearly caught in his throat, but he nodded. "That is right."
Her relief was immediate; from the straightness of her back to the brightness of her eyes. He could not have been prouder. Setting down the metal and hammer, he bowed; grateful that he would have more range of motion without his protective blacksmiths uniform. "So Jane, shall we dance?"
Taking in the sight of him in the oversized tunic that displayed a little of his comely broad chest and brawn form, she bowed, extended her hand, and smiled. "Gladly."
Both the fool and raven-haired knight shared a look; wondering if another challenger had entered the ring. "I thought he only liked horses." commented Gunther.
"I suppose this is the beginning of our tale of whoa."
This earned Jester a well-deserved eye roll for his bad timing. Though all jokes aside, the fool would rather not assist the blacksmith in his romantic endeavors; yelling, screaming, or joking was what he would have preferred overall this serious business he could not make heads or tales of. Everything was upside down, with the kingdom flipped on its head; instead of being angry as he was determined to be, he felt the wind knocked out of him; disappointed in the woman who had rebuffed his affections. It felt unfair how Smithy barely had to try, and Jane came running. Did not his close, attentive friendship mean anything to her?
Though, a glance at Gunther spoke volumes of the bewitching way Jane had seduced them all; albeit unknowingly. His forlorn expression, and silent regard; the dark, penetrating gaze that demanded a response; waiting either for an explanation or scathing retort, but receiving none. Strange how his usual presence was difficult to ignore, but how easily a woman could make him wither and wilt as though he had been burned to ash by the hottest flame. Well, this atmosphere could not be allowed to sour an otherwise decent occasion.
Grabbing his lute, the fool plastered a smile on his face and played a danceable tune; one that he thought his fair maiden would like; it was inspired by her after all. Without thought, his fingers passed over the strings, taking his proper place as the castle's entertainment. Over the years, there has always been a healthy spirit of competition between the fool and the blacksmith; from dancing competitions to who could drink the most cider while standing on one leg, but never had either Jester or Smithy let it get to them or taken a loss harshly. Yet, for the first time in a long time, this was something that neither had taken into account that might become a sore point; Jane.
All her years of training had not lessened her grace. Her lightness of foot on the battlefield equated to silent movement. The blacksmith was not the best dancer, but he could follow well enough. The fool almost wished she had chosen Gunther because at least he knew he was better than him in the ways that it mattered, but Smithy was a mystery that a lifetime might not solve. The softened features upon their faces as he twirled the lady knight, and the allowance of him leading her was a ballad half-written, but it was not one he looked forward to singing.
What could equate to the peace that existed between them? She had always been a great dancer, but never so feminine. Jane had been used to leading dances but was this her thanks; allowing him to lead? What a privilege that would be if it were true.
Jane's wild fiery hair was arranged into a braid, and a brighter smile could not be found anywhere else in the kingdom; the worn out knight's tunic she had chosen to wear had not lessened the beautiful presence she exuded. Her parted lips tempted him, and he found more than once, his eyes lingered there. Those eyes that he could lose himself in lit up with interest at his footwork; how he managed to move with quick steps despite the metal on his shoes. After another light twirl, Jane whispered her thanks and Smithy answered in what would have been his usual way but came out smoother than usual. With a wink, he answered. "My pleasure."
And when their second dance was over, Jane decided to dance with her best human friend and then her fellow knight, but for some reason, she could not capture the same joy she had with the first even though the other two were better dancers.