A/N: This story is a part of a series being written by the Jane and the Dragon fanfiction. A complete list of stories can be found in my profile. Now with hyperlinks!

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of their swords clashing together rang through the practice yard, adding to the general din of the castle's day-to-day noise. Jane lunged left, easily avoiding Gunther's swipe and retaliated with a solid THWACK to his side with the flat of her sword. She danced away, laughing. Gunther grunted at the impact, staggering slightly.

"What is wrong with you today, dung brain? Did you spend too much time flittering about Lavinia's party? One too many dances perhaps?" Jane raised her sword, hoping her taunts would draw Gunther into a real sparring match. As it was, he was sluggish and distracted. He was definitely not at his best this morning. Jane would not go as far to say his sword work was sloppy, but…

"Gunther, your sword work is rather sloppy this morning."

Perhaps she would.

Gunther did not reply, but instead readjusted his stance. He settled into defensive posture, smirking, and waited for her attack.

Jane was happy to oblige, and rushed Gunther with more than her usual enthusiasm.

Last night's ball had left her itchy and unsettled. Jane wanted to blame the crawling sensation on her arms and back on the fabric of the dress, but if anything Jane was honest. The dress had not been itchy. The fabric was soft and lovely. Queen Gwendolyn had been generous in her gift. The dress itself had been… pretty.

BOGWEEVILS!

What was she thinking? Jane HATED dresses. Hated. Dresses were for simpering ladies in waiting, not potential knights of the realm. Jane did not simper. She had never felt so out of her element, so exposed, so vulnerable. All because of that stupid, stupid dress. Even the dagger she had insisted on wearing had not helped her feel less exposed. If anything, the dagger had made her feel more out of place, making her more insecure. Last night she was neither squire nor lady.

CLANG!

Jane's teeth rattled with the impact of the two swords. They had been sparring for less than a half hour, and her shoulders ached already. She was holding herself far too tensely. Jane rolled her shoulders, and lunged again. Gunther was many things, but weak was not one of them. In terms of brute strength, Gunther had the clear advantage. If Jane wanted to best him at swordplay, she had to rely on her quick reflexes, footwork, and wits. Insults as well, if she had them. She could not allow herself to become distracted.

Jane could not taunt Gunter for not giving today's practice his full attention if she was not going to do the same. Shaking off her thoughts, Jane attacked with renewed fury.

Step right. Parry. Strike, strike, strike. Step. Pivot. Parry. Attack.

On they sparred, both breathing heavily. Jane was relentless. They came together again, Jane taunting him. WHY was Gunther so off today? It was aggravating. She needed a good fight.

Stupid dress. Stupid ball. Stupid Stupids.

Jane lept forward, dodging under a high swing of his sword. What was Gunther thinking? His attack had not just been slow, it had been wild. Worse, it had been obvious. A wild attack would have been difficult to dodge and counter. She kicked out at his booted feet, swiping them out from under him.

**FOOMP** Gunther landed on his back, hard, the breath knocked out of him. He laid there for a moment, his mouth working like a big, absurd, ridiculous fish. Or an eel. Yes, Jane decided. Even on the ground, his hair mussed, sweaty, and covered with dust from the practice yard, Gunther resembled a big, absurd, slimy, eel.

"Maggots, Gunther! Are you even trying? You have not made that sort of mistake since our first year in training! If I wanted to practice by myself, I would go give the dummy a go." She gestured to the dummy behind her. "The dummy would certainly make for better conversation."

Gunther did not respond, instead laying on the ground, arms and legs splayed out, staring at the sky.

Well this was unusual.

A quiet Gunther? Perhaps it was a holiday.

"What, no witty jibes or biting insults to throw at me, dung brain? I never thought you would admit defeat so easily."

Gunther mumbled something under his breath, sitting up.

"What was that, Gunther? Afraid to toss your insults at me, directly?" Jane pressed the tip of her sword into the ground, leaning forward slightly to bring her face close to his. He hated when she invaded his space.

"I said, Jane Turnkey," replied Gunther begrudgingly, "Perhaps you are the better swordsman." Jane took a step back, surprised. Gunther stood up, retrieving his sword.

He said WHAT?

Jane was… speechless. Astounded. She was… Jane wasn't sure what she was. Gunther could have shown up this morning wearing the Queen's borrowed dress and Jane would not have been more surprised than she was at this moment.

"I know we trade insults all day, Gunther, but I do not appreciate you mocking me." Jane could feel the anger building. It made her a little nauseous, all of her insecurities rushing up from her stomach to her throat. It tasted of bile. First that stupid dress, now Gunther mocking her form. It hurt. Who did he think he was? "There is no reason for you to be mean."

"I am not mocking you, Jane. Between the two of us, you are the better swordsman." Gunther met her eyes this time. For the life of her, Jane could not see any hint Gunther was indeed lying.

He was being sincere.

Gunther. Was. Being. Sincere.

Perhaps he was injured?

"Did you perhaps hit your head when you fell, Gunther?"

"I did not." Gunther looked at the ground uncomfortably. He made a show of dusting the dirt off his trousers.

"Are you sure?" she queried. "I have gotten the distinct impression you have not been paying attention this morning, you have made a number of unusual mistakes, and I have bested you easily, and …." It suddenly struck her. "Did you just give me a compliment, Gunther Breech?"

Gunther did not look up.

"I did."

Again, Jane was speechless.

Now who looked like an eel out of water?

"I… I…" Jane stood motionless, utterly flabbergasted.

Now it was Gunther's turn to smirk. He had managed to beat the great Jane Turnkey into stupefied silence with a simple, honest compliment.

Not willing to miss his chance, Gunther attacked. With a quick swing of his sword, he sent her weapon flying. Gunther grabbed a fistful of her tunic, used his free hand to twist her arm behind her back, spun her around, and unceremoniously plopped her face-first in the dirt. It was gentle enough, but Jane never even had a chance to lift her sword.

"Really Jane," Gunther chuckled, "you may be a knight in training, but you have grown up in the castle. I know they teach manners here. I would think you should still be able to accept a compliment." Jane grumbled, but didn't lift her head. "Perhaps I have been wasting my breath with all witty jibes and biting insults?"

Jane turned her head to the side, face scrunched up in consternation.

"Thank you, Gunther. For the compliment." Gunther laughed. It sounded like Jane's mouth was dry and full of sand. Likely, it was.

"You are most welcome, Jane. I shall have to compliment you more often." Jane groaned. "I do promise to try harder tomorrow. It would not do for you to be without a challenge." Gunther's voice dripped with sarcasm. There he was. Apparently he had not hit his head. "As it is, it is time for me to help my father." Gunther retrieved Jane's sword, walking over to stack both weapons on the rack. He stalked back over, standing over her. Jane did not move. It was too embarrassing. She would just lay here forever, or at least until…

"Also, now that you are unarmed, I wanted to tell you how nice you looked at the ball." Jane glared up at him. "I thought your dress was stunning. You looked lovely. I would venture to say you were the most radiant squire in attendance. Except of course, for me."

Jane closed her eyes. Stupid, stupid dress.

Hello! Lurky McLurkerson here, posting a little bit of fluff at the request of Kyra4. Her stories are wonderful, and I show them off to all of my non-fanfiction friends. If you haven't read her stories yet, you should. Her most "Dawn" ended exactly how it should have, even if I didn't want it to end that way.

This little fluff piece is inspired by Solitaire44's story "A Troublesome Predicament". This one-shot is is for her, as well.

I've never posted fanfiction before, and the kids are screaming behind me, and DON'T DIP YOUR BANANAS IN THE TOILET! They are like raccoons, I swear. ..Anyway, I apologize in advance for any glaring errors or mistakes.