A/n: Jane's father did not receive enough credit he was due in the show. He would call out when Magnus was wrong, and was strict with matters of his duty, but always concerned for Jane's well being. Good dads deserve more kudos :D Also, I do enjoy the dynamic between Smithy and the Chamberlain in the episode Fathers. I really do believe that if the show had more seasons, we would've gotten a chance to see them interact more.

Some information about Smithy used to be on the Jatd wesite that sadly no longer exists, but I was able to use the internet archive to go back and see it. I had to get a little creative for a couple of details since it was vague as well as relied on personal headcanons, but I hope it'll keep things interesting. Anyway, I'm looking forward to the upcoming Janther week and can't wait to see what fan works will be made. I hope to write for at least one of the prompts. And as always, 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. Please enjoy!

Chapter 26: Do Not Worry

The setting sun cast a reddish, almost orange hue over the land and its inhabitants. Shadows stretched and would have overtaken them had it not been for the torches. Cold stones that made up walls and towers did not affect warm hearts, but beautiful strings enriched them to a degree that they consented upon. The performance had not been long, but it had been a rare delight that neither Dragon nor the blacksmith could have imagined they would have had the privilege to experience. And when the lady knight had finished playing, both Dragon and Smithy applauded and Pig squealed. "Bravo Jane," Dragon applauded. "for a smelly ol' knight, you play beautifully."

If only she could tell that to her callouses. Setting aside the instrument, Jane stepped out to caress Dragon's snout. "Thank you green lips."

With reluctance, the blacksmith stepped forward; cautious as not to express more than he ought to, for Dragon was not as oblivious as Jester believed him to be. And no one dares make a fool of him or risk becoming charcoal with just one breath. "I can see what you meant when you said it would make your hands nimble," The blacksmith complimented, "and I agree with Dragon; it was beautiful."

While the lady knight was comprehending his honest opinion, a sudden breeze sent a chill through her, but she did not feel cold; her soul was indifferent to the weather but not to the care and warmth of a good friend. The assurance of his genuine compliment made her feel grateful beyond belief and respected; if he had felt it was a lackluster performance, he would have said or suggested as much. The fact that Jethro remembered why she had taken up the instrument in the first place felt good, and it made her appreciate him all the more. "Thank you, Jethro." And smiling down at the sow, Jane wondered, "What about Pig? What is her expert opinion on this?"

"She seemed to like it."

"You got that right hammer boy." Commented Dragon; taking his place as an interpreter. "She thought it was delightful to the ears, and would not mind hearing it again."

Intrigued, Smithy questioned, "You got all that from her squeal?"

"More or less. Hard to tell with the accent."

Whether to take it as a truth or jest it was hard to say, but it seemed likely to be true; the blacksmith always thought she seemed to have a lot of spirit and intelligence for a pig. "So," Inquired Jane, commanding his attention at once. "between me and Jester, who would you rather listen to?"

With her head held high, bewitching smirk, and self-assurance in her abilities it was no wonder that the fool would trip over his words, for it made even the cool-headed blacksmith nervous. "I do not have to think about it. I would listen to you play."

"Thank you, but it might be a while yet until I attempt that again. You see," She winked as though this was a secret between them, "I have a reputation as a smelly, old knight to withhold and this harp has a storage room to return to."

"Would you like me to bring it back for you?"

"That is alright. I will carry it back and besides, I could use the exercise."

Without anyone paying attention to him, Dragon grew bored of listening to their simple chit-chat and decided that he was ready to depart. "Goodnight short lives. Gotta go check on Cow."

"Goodnight Dragon. Do not scare any farmers on the way."

"I cannot make any promises." He chuckled, and with that, Dragon spread his wings and carried himself away until he disappeared into the clouds. It might have been years since Dragon had made himself known to them all, but the sight of him still left the blacksmith fascinated, despite his clumsy nature adding to Smithy's chore. Though any good friend of Jane's was a friend of his, that is if the company was mutually desired. And while it was still early in the evening, the blacksmith thought it best if he made himself scarce. "I should get going as well."

"Long day tomorrow?"

"Hard to say. I know I have to go to the market at some point."

"The market? That does not sound like you."

Should he tell her? Either way, Jane would come to know of it, but she may not like it. "Well, I am to be helping your father tomorrow."

"Oh." She blanched. "I am sure you do not have to do it if it gets in the way of your duties. If you cannot do it…oh, I wish he had not asked you. I fear it will be nothing but inquiry after inquiry. There is no telling what he might ask or as to why, and if it is intrusive, but it would only be because there is a concern that needs answering."

It had always been plain to see which parent Jane favored. Her father, having a softer, meticulous, but anxious disposition made him seem unpleasant to those who did not know him, but when in comparison with that of her mother, who was overly preoccupied with appearances and duties, seemed to disregard Jane's wishes at times; they both loved her in their way, but it was the Chamberlain who showed greater patience and understanding to Jane's unorthodox ways. His honorable ways and true fatherly regard for the lady knight was enough to recommend him to the blacksmith. "It is alright Jane. Your father has a duty to be careful, and I am not concerned about what he might ask or of the frequency. When I agreed, I knew what it might entail. Rather than it being an order, Jane, it was a request. Really," He softened; giving her the smallest of smiles. "I do not mind and who knows what I might learn from him. It will certainly give me a reason to venture outside the castle."

" But…"

Placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. "Please Jane, allow me to do this. I want to help him, and for once I will have the privilege of knowing what an attentive father might have felt like."

Jane could not understand completely why the blacksmith wanted to do this, but she had witnessed the deep respect Jethro had expressed for her father in the past. "I am sorry for what might happen, but thank you. I know he will be grateful."

"Not at all. It will be my pleasure."

The warmth in his soft words and quiet smiles quieted her anxiety and once again she was comforted by him. And if the lady knight allowed her mind to dwell as it had the night before on the pleasantness of his face and countenance, she might have realized the truth as to why she thought it so. "Alright."

The delicious warmth from his hand permeated through her knight's tunic, and she had the oddest inclination to experience the comfort a simple embrace could provide, but he withdrew; removing the hand which seemed to ground her. "Goodnight Jane."

"Goodnight Jethro."

The lady knight watched as he walked away, with Pig waddling beside him. A part of her hoped there would be more pleasant times like this ahead. And that night's sleep did come a lot easier to them both.

In the morning when the lady knight rose from her slumber, she felt well-rested and in high spirits. The previous anxiety of what was to be asked of the blacksmith by her father still loomed in the back of her mind, but Jethro should be able to handle it. This was not the first time the blacksmith had to deal with the Chamberlain and doubted it would be the last. To be sure, the day would go well, or at least that is what Jane had hoped until she was greeted by the sight of her old friend Jester outside her door. "Good morning Jane."

He did not look well; a little tired, but this could be attributed to his habit of writing and composing late into the evenings or the rare occasions of going without rest altogether. "Good morning Jester. No duties as of yet?"

"There are, but I thought we might have a small chat. Like how we used to."

"I know, we are both very busy, but what did you care to talk about?"

A rare seriousness that came from a place of deep affection allowed him to say, "I heard you playing last night."

"You did? I suppose you would. I hope I did not disturb you."

"No," He lied; knowing full well what had occurred. "it did not. I thought I had imagined it, but I later saw you carrying the instrument back to where you claimed it would continue to collect dust. Was it your mother's idea to have you take it up again?"

"No, it was not."

"If you had taken a greater interest in the arts," He brightened; a hopeful glint in those familiar eyes that were in want of affection, "I would gladly teach you a few songs. Why we could be a duet. I could sing, and you would be the lovely lady knight that not only stabs the hearts of her enemies but captures the hearts of her admirers."

"Lovely thought, but no. You see, Smithy wanted to know who was the better musician between the two of us, but it is obvious who it is."

No, it could not be true. Was Jane favoring the uncultured, lowly, stable hand? A blacksmith, who had nothing to his name but a pig, and good looks? Jane had never offered to play for him; an artist with a real taste for music and all things beautiful. Perhaps he should test how affected she would be if he corrected what she misspoke. "Smithy? I thought you called him Jethro."

The tips of her ears were dusted with a blush, a flurry of emotions was detectable in raised brows, and the lines of her forehead. "Yes," She explained; a bit sheepish. "I did mean Jethro. I am still getting used to it."

"I see. No matter, if we are talking about who is the better musician, it would be you of course. A fair face and feminine playing would be enough to recommend you."

Jane knew he said this to flatter her, but it did not please her, for it did not speak of her playing but her looks; as though she used her wiles to persuade Jethro to lie; how deceptive and disgusting that would be. Yet, it was the fool's habit to speak in such a flattering, and sometimes provoking manner, but for the sake of peace she allowed the affection of friendship to cover over the annoyance that might have led to an argument had it been said by any other. "Jester, I meant you; it is your playing that is superior. Everyone knows it."

"That is so sweet of you Jane. I, a humble jester, do my best to please. So," He softened; giving her a little bow and charming smile. "will I ever get the privilege of hearing you play?"

"Perhaps someday. I do not want to give my mother the wrong idea, or give her more fodder for her arguments on how a gentlewoman ought to behave."

"I understand. I will be ready for when that day comes."

"Thank you, Jester."

The fool had a lot more that he cared to say, but if he were to succeed in his plan as well as to prove that he could be a man she respected, he would be better to refrain from being accusatory. "I should go, but I will see you at the midday meal."

"But what about breaking your fast at the morning meal?"

"His majesty prince Cuthbert needs assistance in his language studies. I will be sure to eat double portions at the midday meal."

"Alright. Well, see you later."

As Jane watched him go, she felt a small pang of guilt for referring to Jethro as Smithy and being made aware of it as well as for not thinking of inviting the fool to listen to her play last night, but in another way she was glad she did not, for as much as the lady knight cared for him, he was not always sincere. That and Jester might have tried to be the center of attention; it was his way of profession and his gift, but it was not always welcomed. Also, the whole thing had been unplanned and had been done out of the want of her heart as well as a matter of pride, for unlike Jester, Jethro would not flatter her, and that she appreciated to no end; allowing her to know where improvement was needed. Maggots! She had to remember to call the blacksmith by his name as she had promised.

Not long after the morning meal, Jane's father had come to retrieve the blacksmith, and they set off on their way. The Chamberlain carried his list and was efficient in carrying out his tasks of ensuring that the merchant stalls were within the dimensions stated within their legal right, that whatever butchered meats being sold were not putrid, and that baked bread was not green or as hard as a rock. And when that was done, he had Smithy check to see if the stalls were in good condition and if not, stated how the repairs were to be done. From there, Milton had his errands which were to pick out a gift for his wife that always seemed to be cross, and this allowed Smithy to check what wares and trinkets were for sale. Most if not all were the usual, but a stall at the very end, that barely passed its inspection, sold pearls, pretty feathers, beads, as well as small knives.

The blacksmith had an idea all of a sudden; why had he not thought of making knives not only out of practicality but also one for Jane? Her old one had become thin from wear and constant sharpening. There was no way he could afford to buy one at present, and he was no bladesmith, but the more he thought about making one, the better of an idea it appeared to be. Perhaps he could use an old horseshoe; it was the only scrap iron he had. To be sure, if it was to be done, it would have to be done before he took his leave.

His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the Chamberlain who had bought a gift for his wife, and they went about checking a few more stalls that claimed were new; of all of them, only one was deemed unfit, but otherwise, their wares recommended them, and they were given the warning to fix the issue within a fortnight or risk being charged a fine. Unhappy they were, but the quick, simple, practical suggestions given to them by the Chamberlain improved their spirits, but only slightly, and with that, his task was over. There had not been that much time for the inquiries Jane had been concerned about, but now that they were on their way back towards the castle, there was the expectation of it. "Thank you, Smithy. Without your help, I fear I would have had to give them more bad news."

"I did not know there were regulations to the stall sizes."

"It depends on what can be afforded. Those who cannot afford the fees of a larger stall can sell their goods in the smaller stalls but must adhere to the regulations. The king thought it fair to the less fortunate."

"Is that why you informed them so that they would not lose their employment?"

"If I did not inform them," Milton sighed. "then they might have fallen into deeper poverty. Life is very unfair, and it cannot always be relied upon that one's neighbor would treat them kindly. It weighs heavily on my conscience when a man who worked hard for an honest wage is forced to steal because of a problem that could have been easily resolved."

"It sounds reasonable."

Throughout the day, Milton had come to notice a few things. Unlike Sir Gunther who sought to gain favor or the Jester who had witticism after witticism, Smithy spoke with sincerity and humility, although reserved. True, Milton had seen how amused the blacksmith could be when dealing with his daughter, but it was not unpleasant or with pretense. There seemed to be no design, and it was consequential that Sir Theodore had suggested that Smithy carried silent regard for his daughter, but he had not witnessed enough to come to a conclusion. Yet, he had seen the softening of character when Jane had been involved, but that was left to be determined.

The walk back towards the castle was slow as the Chamberlain kept his eyes open for any anomalies. Yet, the walk was not a boring one, and the expected inquiries were finally made as an empty road gave allowances for it. "So Smithy, are you going on leave to visit your family this year?"

"I hope so Sir. I know how eager my mother will be to hear how castle life has been since my last visit."

"What about your father? Will he not be happy to see you?"

"He died a few years ago, Sir."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Then, is it only your mother back home?"

"Yes, Sir," The blacksmith nodded. "along with the animals."

"Was that why you were hesitant when the king requested for you to come to the castle all those years ago?

"Sort of. My father was still alive then, but he was busy with other business."

"Then why did you decide to leave your family?"

Why? Smithy had not thought about why he left in several years. The Chamberlain wondered if the lad had heard him, but he did not have to wonder for long. "I thought it was what my parents wanted. You see," The blacksmith explained; pensive cloudiness in his eyes which dulled their vibrancy. "I was happy enough back home at the farm. I enjoyed the work there and had time to explore the forest. Had I stayed there, I would have taken over the farm once I came of age, but my mother is young and strong, so she did not need me, but she had thought working for the king would be a great honor and opportunity. I agreed only on the condition that I could bring Pig."

"I see, but was that all you had wanted? Am I correct in my assumption that you did not have any ambitions other than to work on your family farm?"

Had he not been asked this before? Oh yes, Jane had asked him, but Smithy had been reluctant to answer. However, he felt he could trust the Chamberlain, and decided to explain, "At one point, I guess you could say I had no ambition. My situation would not have borne it. I was born a pig farmer and possibly would have died a pig farmer, but my family had bigger plans. Not so much my mother, but my father. My father, he was…he used to be a fighter. Not necessarily for any cause, but he was paid for hire for those who could afford his services so to speak. He tried to train me, and so did my uncle, but with my removal to the castle, that was when my training had been postponed."

What Milton had wanted were answers, but he found that with every inquiry, a dozen more appeared in his mind. Confused, the older man stopped and faced the blacksmith. "I do not understand."

"Neither did I at the time, but now that I think of it, I suppose my father had a melancholic disposition that he thought could disappear if he drank enough or if he pushed his ambitions onto me. He was never satisfied with what he had."

"He did not like being a pig farmer?"

"No, he did not. It had been agreed upon that my father could only marry my mother if he took over my grandfather's business, but over the years my father had developed ideas of grandeur. I think if not for his habits, he could have been a knight, but well…it is too late for him now."

It seemed that the mild-tempered lad had suffered at the expense of his father's fancy. Milton could surmise that in some way, the blacksmith shared a similarity with Sir Gunther in that respect; both had fathers who tried to live out their dreams through their sons but were disappointed and in ill humor when it did not come into fruition. And it was at this point, the Chamberlain was almost afraid to continue his inquiries, but he needed to reach the conclusion of the subject. "What had become of him?"

"I suppose his excessive habits had gotten the better of him, for my mother told me that he went to sleep one day and did not wake up."

Still, there had been so much that Milton cared to know about the lad, but in the meantime, it would have to wait; he did not want to make an enemy of a good man. "I am sorry I had made you remember something so unpleasant. You must find me intrusive."

Patting the older man's back, the blacksmith gave him a small reassuring smile. "It is alright Sir. You did not do me a disservice. I know now that my parents had been correct in saying that it would be an honor to be in the service of our king, for if I had not come to the castle and come to call it home, I would not have made the friends I have now. I daresay, my animals would have been my only companions, and that is fine, but I fare a great deal better sharing in an intelligent conversation every now and then. And it is always a pleasure talking with you Sir."

This did bring a measure of comfort to Jane's father, for he was used to feeling stressed and anxious due to his inquisitive nature, but the blacksmith was a humble, patient lad, who carried a greater deal of intelligence than he is given credit for. Perhaps, with some training, he could receive a better station, but was that what he would want? He would have to inquire at a later date. With a brief smile, the Chamberlain confessed, "I am glad to hear that. We will have to get together again sometime. I believe I have more clothes you can have if you do not mind them."

"Thank you, Sir, I would not mind receiving them. And if there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask. For now, I think it is time to get going, Sir, if you are to go and be able to watch Jane return."

With renewed vigor, the Chamberlain walked faster and the blacksmith followed; carrying what the older men had bought for the lady in waiting.