A/n: I think this chapter is done more out of self indulgence because I like the idea of chopping firewood. I know eventually there will have to be drama, but I needed a good feel good chapter. Feel free to comment what you might like to happen, ;D or if you'd like a continuance of any events. 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 28: Firewood

In the back of his mind, Smithy knew there were issues to be resolved. His dealings with Jester, his want of certain company, and the completion of his tasks before winter had to be dealt with. So far, he had checked the upper storage near the stables and was sure that there would be enough hay to feed the horses, that the major repairs about the castle were done, and that there were enough logs. True, he would still need to chop enough wood to feed all the necessary fires, but that was a given; the king and queen wanted the fires to be constantly kept on for the prince so that he may not catch a malady. Otherwise, the blacksmith was almost done.

However, when his tasks were completed, and his farewells made, there would be little excuse to stay. All year, Smithy had been eager to see his mother and had wanted to recount what peculiarities were experienced when working in a castle, but now, as the time drew nearer, another woman took precedence; someone who had touched his heart unlike any other. It was not like the lady knight would need him, and she would not be in want of company, and with little to recommend him but his ability to care for livestock, and to hold a hammer, he must go. But if Jane were to tell him not to go, would he still go? Something told him he was in danger of being persuaded to stay.

In any case, these thoughts were disrupted by the sound of horse hooves striking the cobblestones, alerting the blacksmith of the lady knight's arrival. Excitement coursed through him; reminding him of the days of the royal hunt, but those anticipatory feelings were nothing compared to the gladness he would experience when he recounted the day to Jane; at some point, she will ask him how it all went and knowing this amused him. Though why should this amuse him? It was not so much an amusement drawn from a humorous event, but rather drawn from a jubilant heart; one that was altogether content with how he kept getting mixed in her company. And because of this, he did not have much to complain about.

The attention he had given to the other horses was diverted towards the courtyard; having already mucked the stables, and bringing fresh hay for the horses, he was ready to go out and meet her. The blacksmith knew no one would question him seeing as he was also the stable hand, but somewhere, Jane's father was watching and Smithy did not want to invite his contempt; he respected him and did not want to alienate him. At any rate, the Chamberlain would be glad that his daughter had arrived on time, but what would he think if he also saw how eager Smithy was to see her? It might lead to further suspicion, meaning it would be better if he waited. Yet, this did not detract from the blacksmith's elation on having an excuse to see her; nothing pleased him more than being useful to his friends, but would she be happy to see him?

Why did he continue to question himself? These thoughts reminded him of how foolish he could be if he allowed certain thoughts to linger. Being fanciful would not do him any favors, but as their eyes met, his marked regard got the better of him, and he stepped forward as she quickly dismounted; each one a bit relieved that the other did not look any worse for wear, and as she neared, so did he, and Jethro was alert and ready to attend to her horse. Nonetheless, the lady knight's immediate agitation alarmed him. "Is everything alright Jane?"

"I am fine," She answered, "but what about you? How did it go with my father? Are you alright?"

Her bewilderment made him wish it was not improper to comfort her; that he could reach out and soothe her if it were not for his dirty hands. Why should a lady of the court, a knight no less care for his well-being? And was she still concerned about his dealings with her father? It was a lot to take in all at once, but staying true to his nature, he began the process of removing the saddle from Bravery, and explained with his usual calmness, "All went well. He managed to complete all the tasks on his list and I had the pleasure of learning more about how things are done at the market."

Was that all? Jane did not think so. Jethro was of the habit to hide what was the matter with him; it is what he has done for the entirety of their acquaintance. It was neither a fault nor a virtue in her eyes, but withholding his expressions, who did it benefit? Surprised she was because she thought they were getting closer, but not all that relieved. "Oh," She commented, "that is good, but did he ask all manner of questions?"

In his voice, there was no great alteration, and his tone was still colored with that controlled smoothness. "He asked if I was going to visit my family this year."

That is right; Jethro would be leaving soon. And once he left, he would not return until the ground was ready to till. There would be no one tending the forge, and no Pig running on her wheel that kept the fire hot, no stable hand to groom the horses, and no friend to comfort her unlike anyone else could. Why should this bother her? He always left to visit his family that lived beyond the causeway.

In truth, it panged her, because she was coming to thoroughly enjoy his company, and sought him out when she needed a friend. No, it was more than that now; it had always been more than what she led herself to believe. Jane knew herself, and why she sought Jethro out but acknowledging these thoughts, and knowing that they conflicted with her current resolutions, did not make it any easier. Being aware that she had not spoken for some moments, she glanced down at her boots as though the right answer might come to her if she looked anywhere but at him. "Was that all? Nothing else?"

"Other than speaking about my family, not much else was said. Jane," he confessed, "your father might be thorough, but he is not intrusive. At least I have never thought so."

"Sorry, I did not mean… I know you do not usually talk much about yourself, but I suppose I should not have jumped to conclusions. Thank you for helping him."

"Not at all." He expressed; a smile finally gracing his face with its brilliance. "It is an honor to be in the service of my friends."

"I know." The lady knight answered; becoming attuned to the soft sounds of the horses breathing, and the faint words that were shared between the blacksmith and her mare.

What was he saying? Were his words secret blessings or imparted wisdom that only he could ascertain? She could ask, but then she would disrupt the peace that existed within these walls, where neither beast nor lone man would care what her consequence was. Truly, Jethro was a wonderful person; his forbearance, quiet discernment, and honesty drew her, and she desired to remain in his company. Although she knew there was no need for her to linger, the lady knight was glad more questions came to mind. "May I ask if you will be going?"

"If nothing prevents me." He answered; his tone a bit too monotonous for her liking. Oh, he will be missed she thought and despite a moment's silence, Jane did not express her objection. The blacksmith thought he was correct in believing that she would not and was still to go. He continued, "Until then, there is still much work to be done."

"Like what?"

Grabbing a brush, he began brushing out the mare's fur. As always he thought it was such a beautiful horse, and he felt the peace that being near an animal could impart. But considering that the lady knight was waiting for his answer, he mentioned, "For example, I had checked the pile of wood near my forge and the pile in one of the upper storage rooms, and found that I will have to spend the next few days chopping firewood."

"Will you be needing assistance?"

"I might." He confessed; knowing that in doing so, he was inviting more trouble, along with the possibility of being mixed into her company again. "I fear it will be an especially cold winter."

"It has been a while, but you can count on me if you can use a hand."

Setting aside the brush, he led Jane's horse into its stall and was ready to give the lady knight his full attention. "If you are too busy with your duties Jane, I would be able to manage."

"Are you kidding?" She exclaimed, "I would love to help. We can make it into a contest if I manage to drag Gunther into this. We can see who can chop the most wood and whoever wins will get a prize. That way it would be done faster, and it can be fun."

"It is not a bad idea. Though, if it cannot be done, I will not be disappointed."

"Think about it," She reasoned, "if we can get it done, then you would have more time. You are always so busy, and I cannot imagine you could not benefit with a little extra time."

More time to be with his friends, or with her? Again, that was wishful thinking, but the latter had its enticements. And despite his foolish thoughts, he remembered the idea of the knife and how he wished to shape one out of a horseshoe. That could be a way he expressed his appreciation. With a nod, he was satisfied with this development and decided to go along with her plan. "Let us see how it transpires. Ay Jane?"

Gunther was not pleased. To deal with the subject of his consternation was tiresome, to say the least, but to be asked to work when he did not need to was obscene. "I do not see the point of this. What could I possibly gain? Other than a few splinters."

Glancing at the blacksmith who was sharpening a hatchet, then back at Gunther, she answered, "As a knight, it would be honorable to help out a fellow knight. However," She brightened; her eyes gleaming with playfulness. "seeing as you still show little regard for that, might I instead interest you in a bet?"

This earned her an eye roll, but Gunther was curious as to what she was about. "A bet? How brilliant, as though you have something I could want."

"Perhaps I do. Whoever wins will not only win this pretty rock," Which was only a shiny pebble she had found near a lake and was offered mostly as a jest. "but will also be able to request a favor from me."

"Really frog rider? Like what?"

"Anything," She boasted, "as long as it does not go against the knightly code of conduct."

"Did you know about this Smithy?"

"It is news to me." Smithy chuckled, though the blacksmith should have guessed as much.

Gunther seemed to be contemplating what he wanted for some moments until it struck him on what he could ask for. "Fine, I accept your challenge. And when I win, you will be sorry you trifled with me."

"But what if Jane wins?" Commented the blacksmith.

"Impossible. Have you seen her arms? They are but twigs." Teased the raven-haired knight.

Jethro did not need to see them. He supposed, with her daily exercise and training, that she had built up endurance and held more vigor, but it would not prevent Gunther from scheming. "I doubt Jane would suggest such an activity if she did not think she could do it."

"When I win," Jane added; pleased by the blacksmith's comment, "I promise to be gentle."

It seemed as though they had been at it for hours. All were dripping with sweat, dust, and smelled of pine, but for the sake of propriety, Jane could not remove a single layer of clothing to relieve the suffering such exertion would bring. However, both Gunther and Jethro had removed their shirts, and were only succeeding in drawing a crowd of chambermaids and other female servants to stand and watch as they tirelessly split log after log; their comely bodies the consequence of a life full of regular exercise.

Although enthusiastic, Jane was so tired. Perhaps she had been overconfident, but it would not be the first time. She had acted on impulse and now was in danger of being requested to do as Gunther asked; having no idea what a man like him could request. In her heart, she hoped Jethro would win; knowing that he would not be cruel or demeaning in his request. Anyway, she was glad that there had not been much talking, but the cries of ladies had been distracting; the raven-haired knight relished in it, and it flattered the lady knight that she had her fair share of admirers, but it made little difference to the blacksmith who took regular breaks to sharpen his hatchet.

Was Jethro so indifferent to the attention of ladies? As Jane thought this, she realized that he flashed her that rare smile of his. It made her stomach turn in the oddest way she could not understand. To distract herself, she raised her arms to strike her log, and as the sharp edge of her hatchet met the log with some resistance, she felt frustrated as the consequence of her exhaustion was beginning to show. Though she did not allow this to discourage her; she raised her arms to strike again, but the blacksmith approached her and without saying a word, gently replaced her dulled hatchet with the sharpened one.

This gave her the moment to inspect, and appreciate his glistening, bare chest. Propriety suggested that she should avert her eyes and not admire his perfect, broad, mighty chest, and focus on her task, but his form was unlike the Knights or any other that she had ever seen; it was as though he were carved and chiseled out of stone, but she supposed it was attributed to his strenuous duties. She had never thought much of men or their bodies; curious to be sure, but never all that distracted by them, nor by Gunther who was almost as strong as Jethro. But why was it that her heart struck against her ribs when she looked at the blacksmith? Maggots!

In the end, contest or not, the blacksmith had a duty to perform and while he had been impressed by the example of endurance by Gunther and Jane, he did not expect that Jane would endure a bit longer than Gunther. And although Jethro did not care to compete with Gunther or with the lady knight, he nonetheless came out as the victor. The lady knight could scarcely move due to overexertion, but acknowledging him as the winner, she wondered, "Alright. What favor would you ask of me?"

Pulling on his now dried shirt, he stated, "I would only suggest that you find time in your schedule to converse with your father. He cares deeply for you Jane and only wishes that you are well."

"Did he tell you this?"

"He did not have to."

Opening his palm, he mentioned. "I will take that pretty rock now."

Handing him the pebble, she laughed. "You could have asked for almost anything else. Why bring up my father?"

"He does so much and asks for so little."

"Like you?"

"No," He corrected. "not like me. If I had such a father, I would have liked nothing more than to make him proud. I have seen your fathers doing, like that time you had gotten trapped in Dragon's cave. Out of all of us, he figured out how to traverse the caves without us falling to our deaths. I doubt I have met anyone smarter than him, but considering he does not boast of it and spends a good measure caring for all that goes on in this castle, do you not think he is deserving?"

"I do."

Offering a helping hand, he helped her up, and again she was amazed at that strength of his. Was he not tired? He appeared no different from usual, but perhaps swinging hammers was much harder than chopping wood. And glancing down at his gloved hand which still grasped hers with gentleness, she wondered, "What would have happened if I had won?"

"I would have been at your mercy."

Though in his way, he already was.