#jonalotweek

Zero glanced back and forth as the bickering continued, Jonah getting dragged in a moment later when Kyle called out that Jonah hadn’t show any signs of aging as well. When he launched into a description of his full routine, Zero’s eyes flickered over to meet Lancelot’s, who only smiled before going back to his dinner.

“Spare us the details!” Kyle cried out partway through, covering his ears. “Edgar, doesn’t this tick you off?”

“Oh? You can’t ignore what Jonah’s saying any time? I thought we all had that ability to let it go in one ear and out the other…”

“Edgar!” Scandalized, Jonah stood from the table, pointing accusingly at him. “How dare you! I can’t believe you would say something so rude toward your superior officer—!”

“Uh, Jonah?” Zero raised his hand slightly to get his Queen’s attention. “I don’t think he’s listening to you if he just said that…”

Before Jonah could launch on another tirade, Lancelot glanced at him and said, “Sit down and finish eating, Jonah. You don’t need to give into their desire to create a little commotion around here.”

Frowning, Jonah sat back down, picking up his utensils once more. “As you wish, Lancelot.”

The rest of dinner passed in relative peace – but not quiet – and Lancelot and Jonah retired to their shared chambers afterward. Jonah watched as Lancelot sat at the vanity and undid the short ponytail at the back of his head, letting his hair fall about his shoulders.

“Your father had shorter hair when he was King and had a beard,” Jonah commented as he came up behind Lancelot, wrapping his arms about him and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Are you really matching him when you look like this? You look like your former namesake.”

Lancelot laughed softly, tilting his head back to look at Jonah. “You just don’t like this change. That’s no reason to call me a beast.”

“I never said I disliked it! I just think you… look better without the beard.”

“And I like when you push your bangs back, but you don’t see me clamoring for that.” As he spoke, Lancelot did just that – fingers gently brushing Jonah’s hair back from his forehead before pulling him down into a kiss. The awkward angle meant that the first kiss did not last very long, Jonah’s nose scrunching when his cheek brushed against the beard, but as Lancelot turned on the stool and kissed him proper, Jonah found himself sinking into the kiss nonetheless.

“I would brush them back if it pleased you,” Jonah muttered as they finally parted.

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“Compared to what? And this is rather out of the blue. Where did the urge to call me something like that come from?”

The follow-up seemed to be the wrong response, as Lancelot shut his lips again and did not speak for several moments as he tucked in his shirt and shrugged his jacket on. But as he buttoned it up and attached the golden pin and chain to his lapel, he answered:

“Because Sirius has one for his significant other.”

“So why do I need one?”

Lancelot mulled on that for a moment more. Jonah found himself impressed at the apparent dedication and thought Lancelot had been putting toward this topic – briefly wondering how long it had been eating at him for.

“Because we work so closely together when we are working as the King and Queen of Hearts,” Lancelot finally said, his tone firm and assured. “But after work, I want to convey my love to you in a manner separate from work. So because I have always called you by your name, I feel as if I should use something else when we are not busy managing the army. The mere use of your name is not enough for me, I believe. Not anymore.”

Jonah only stared, the brush in his hand long forgotten as Lancelot stepped down, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Jonah’s head.

“I do not expect you to call me anything in return, but I would like to ask that you allow me this one small pleasure, beloved.”

The name came again, dropped at the end of a sentence with an affectionate touch. Upon hearing it in such a way, Jonah knew then he was powerless against it.

“I would never want to deny you anything, my King,” Jonah responded, standing from the stool and pressing a kiss to Lancelot’s cheek. “Besides, I could get used to it, in time! You never know.”

Lancelot smiled, moving to kiss Jonah proper as his hand took the brush from Jonah’s fingers. “And I appreciate you very much for saying so. Now, sit back down. I want to try to do your hair again.”

“Huh? Again? But you did it yesterday! I can’t ask you to do it again, Lancelot!”

“I want to.”

Such a simple response was given with no room to refuse or deny, so Jonah huffed and sat back down again. “Just don’t tug too hard.”

Jonah had been proud of his accomplishments about befriending Prince Lancelot at the party a little over a month ago. He spared his parents the more pitiful details and intentionally picked out a longer sleeved shirt to hide the bruises on his arms.

So, you should not cling to the Kingsley heir so much. It’s unsightly.

But while his parents had first been full of praise at the sudden friendship, thankful whenever Lancelot offered to spend time with Jonah when he came to headquarters, they now treated it with a distasteful scorn.

You shouldn’t have to depend on him for protection and curry favor by groveling at his side.

Jonah never saw it that way, but he figured that if his father said it, it must be true.

…

Their conversation had taken place in the carriage as they rode to Red Headquarters for work. Jonah had been brought specifically at Prince Lancelot’s request, which thrilled him to the core. He kept that feeling locked down, not letting it show as they drew closer to the white and red building. I’ll have to remember to ask Prince Lancelot if he can ask to invite Luka next time, too.

These get-togethers had become a regular affair as Jonah came to observe his father during some of his less intensive duties. Lancelot had already started doing the same two years ago, and was brimming with advice for the future Queen of Hearts.

It was a slight opposition to the demeanor Prince Lancelot had showed at the party. There, he shone with regal confidence, telling off the bullies and protecting Jonah in the same swift, decisive maneuver.

Behind closed doors and over a luncheon or tea break, he spoke at length about all sorts of topics that initially had Jonah’s head swimming. Politics, agriculture, economics, and battle tactics were all fair game. And the future Queen had been doing his best to keep up – and thought he was doing a rather fine job of it.

The conversation he and his father had in the carriage only proved to make him all the more grateful that he was studying so hard.

…

And so, he brought that confidence and pride in with him, recounting his father’s speech to Lancelot. He parroted his father perfectly, even standing from his chair and standing tall for emphasis.

But after he had finished, Lancelot tilted his head to the side, appearing confused.

“What’s the matter, Prince Lancelot?” Jonah asked, smiling to keep the concern out of his tone.

“Why… should you protect me?” Lancelot asked slowly, sounding genuinely curious.

“What? Isn’t it obvious? Because I should be your last line of defense! Father says that we should be ready to give up our lives if it means protecting the King we serve!”

Lancelot set down his teacup then, looking up at Jonah. “That sounds backwards. The King’s duty is to protect his people.”

Jonah’s eyes widened then. “W-What?”

“Let’s look at this way.” Lancelot held up two fingers. “I had two options the night I saw you being bullied. The first is as your father says – that you should protect me. In that case, I would hold back and evaluate your strength for myself to see if you are capable of protecting me.”

“Which sounds fine.”

“But I do not think that is the correct answer,” Lancelot said, choosing his words slowly. “I know I made the right choice protecting you. A King should be sure of his ability to protect his people, and that includes those closest to him, such as his Queen. I would rather see you fight at my side than throw your life away to protect me, Jonah.”

At that, Jonah was at a loss for words.

As his mind kicked and struggled, he was briefly struck with a bout of inadequacy – ignoring his youth, sneering at himself for not being good enough.

But once again, his King protected him.

“You are fine just as you are, Jonah. And I’m looking forward to helping Cradle move forward together.”

Lance Windsor, the eldest son of a transportation company that spanned across Cradle, was set to inherit the business when his mother retired. A fine train system ran around each territory and deeper into the mountains, where tunnels had been crafted into the rock to ensure nobody had to either climb the mountains to traverse the formerly dangerous forests to the south to travel to other countries.

Because he had finished his schooling, it was time for him to take over a small portion of the business, which meant hiring an assistant. His father, a Black Territory citizen, had instructed him on how to find the good and hardworking in those he interviewed. They had narrowed it down to five impressive candidates, but Lance still was not sure if he could choose just one.

But the last candidate impressed him the most of them all. Jonah Labelle, a citizen from a Central family. He had come with glowing recommendations from all previous employers and his schooling. Lance recalled him from a couple years behind in the business program at the Cradle Institute’s University Division.

He really made waves, and it shows. Lance’s thoughts on Jonah never once wavered throughout the entire interview. The man answered with pose, refinement, and a becoming confidence that suited his attire and looks. All candidates had come prepared, but treated Lance as a stepping stone in their quest to achieve a higher position in the company later.

Jonah promised a more lasting relationship. So, Lance asked him directly.

“Do you believe you are prepared to inherit the role of right hand in this company? Understand that it will not come for some time, and that you may be stuck working with me for some time in a bit of an understated manner.”

“There is nothing I would wish for more,” Jonah answered, his first swift answer – a stark contrast to all others that he had given some thought to. “Ever since hearing about you at the university and seeing you at work in an internship, I have known that I would like to work at your side and help this company grow for the next generation. I want to work for you and the company, not just the company itself.”

The answer surprised Lance, but he did not let it show. Instead, he took the answer in stride with a polite smile.

“Then you are the most qualified to take on the position. Welcome aboard, Jonah Labelle.”

Jonah’s face lit up then, triumphant and proud – before he caught himself and gave a little cough as he stood from the table and bowed. “Thank you, Mr. Windsor! I look forward to working with you!”

“As do I – but, something to note now. Just Lance is fine for me.”

“… Mr. Lance, then. Thank you again.”

“Of course. I am sure that we will work well together.”  

…

(But of course, neither knew the true meaning of their words and meeting. And that, despite the odds, the two had found each other, in a happier time.)

…

Jonah left the party that was in full swing in favor of stepping into a quiet carpeted hallway, where he had caught a flash of blond hair when Lance had escaped a few minutes prior. His love of two years now stood at the end of the hall, staring out a window over the vast expanse of Cradle.

Several parties together later and you still insist on escaping, Jonah thought with a smile as he came up behind Lance, winding an arm through his. “Hello, Lance.”

He jumped at the act, before relaxing as he saw Jonah’s face. “Hello. Apologies, have I been out too long?”

“No, not at all. I thought I would just come out with you this time. Spend some time together.”

“Well, you just missed a shooting star earlier.”

“Really? Then I hope you made a good wish for the both of us!”

Lance wrapped his arm about Jonah’s waist, tugging him closer. “I wished that we would meet again in the future and fall in love all over again. That we are soulmates who can never be parted.”

Jonah eyes glittered brightly at that, a smile rising to his features. “That sounds like a wonderful concept. I hope it comes true, because I don’t think you would take care of yourself if I wasn’t there!”

“Then I hope you are there to care for me, as you perhaps always have been.”

Jonah made a face at that. “… Well, I’d like you take care of me at least once if we come back. I shouldn’t always have to do the work!”

“You say that like I do not care for you now,” Lance said with a laugh, moving a little closer, lips nearly touching. “Should I do more?”

I have to keep them safe, even if that means refusing to speak with them outright. That is the most assured way to keep them out of harm’s way, Lancelot promised himself one evening, striding back toward his office. He had just attended a dinner meeting with the Jack of Hearts, Claudius Bright. His nephew, Edgar, was set to take the position soon enough, and a meeting over food was necessary given the hour. With official business out of the way, more could follow.

But when Lancelot got back to his office, he found the door slightly ajar. Tensing up, he readied a bout of magic in his fingertips, ready to strike should the occasion call for it. Pushing the door open gently, crimson eyes examined the solitary office.

There were no lurking hooded figures or intruders in sight. Instead, Jonah, the new Queen of Hearts and Lancelot’s right hand, had his arms crossed atop the desk. His head was cradled in his arms, and it appeared as if he had fallen asleep.

Oh. Lancelot dropped his defenses, gently shutting the door behind him. A lone crystal on the desk illuminated the space, the remainder of the room dark. It’s no wonder you fell asleep, he thought with a smile as he approached. The glow from the crystal was a warm orange, a testament to the progress made in magic – the previous ones had all burned blue – and it perfectly enunciated Jonah’s features.

As he stood beside the desk, Lancelot could not resist staring for a moment or two. A few papers were settled to one side, a summary of notes next to them. Other papers that did not require Lancelot’s signature were already finished. The pen had rolled onto the floor some time ago.

Jonah’s hair danced slightly with each gentle breath. His features, normally either a scowl or a glare, were softened by sleep. Lancelot had long ago accepted that Jonah was handsome – but in this moment, he appeared more beautiful than anything else.

You mentioned Harr and Sirius in your threats, Amon, Lancelot mused, resisting the urge to reach out and rest a hand on Jonah’s arm or stroke his hair, but you neglected to mention my oldest ally. But perhaps that is a good thing. Because Jonah is the one who believes in our dreams. So…

Lancelot finally reached out then, gingerly touching Jonah’s shoulder.

… Even if I die and leave him alone, then I am reassured that he will continue the legacy I leave behind. Even if that means…

“… King Lancelot? Oh!” Jonah snapped to attention, standing from the desk and bowing with shame. “Forgive me! Did you see if I was drool— I mean, I didn’t appear unkempt, did I?”

“You are fine, Jonah. All is well.” The smile Lancelot gave at the sight of Jonah’s embarrassed blush had his Queen smiling for only a moment before he bowed again and apologized his behavior.

“You did more than just take me out to dinner,” Jonah said. “You insisted we get dinner, then walk around the streets to visit my favorite shops, then got dessert at a café that is reservations only! It was only things I liked.” Pouting, he looked up at Lancelot, the unspoken words clear in his gaze: was there anything you wanted to do?

“And what I enjoy most is spending time with you. Especially since you have been waking up before I can see you. I fully expect you to stay in bed tomorrow morning.”

Jonah smiled, leaning against Lancelot’s shoulder. “I promise. I’ve missed seeing you, too. But I also know you have been skipping breakfast, so in return, I better see you in the dining hall in the morning.”

“I promise in return.”

The two walked in content silence for a little while after that, heading towards the carriage they had left on the outskirts of Central. Lancelot’s thoughts wandered as they did so, thinking back on the past five years and on their future.

The stars above their head made him think of how much time they had together, but how little they had in the grand scheme of the world around them. Their work now – dedicated to ensuring Cradle’s long future by strengthening ties with the Black Army, clearing out the Magic Tower, and connecting with other nations across the sea – would lay the groundwork for future generations.

In that moment, the future seemed so impossibly far away and close all at once. Instinctively tightening his grip on Jonah’s arm, Lancelot let out a heavy sigh.

What is the future Cradle will face? And how will we be remembered in its history? I only wish that we will be remembered in a more positive time for starting these peace talks and for moving Cradle into a new era? What will this land look like then? How will Jonah and I—

A squeeze on his wrist caused Lancelot to come out of his thoughts and look to Jonah, who was giving him a concerned gaze. “What’s on your mind, Lancelot?”

“… Nothing that should worry you,” he murmured, pausing in his stride. “I am merely thinking of the future we are working towards, and beyond that. And if our love will be remembered.”

“If you make it so, then it should stay,” Jonah scoffed. “In all our history books and on your texts.”

Lancelot smiled gently, leaning down to press a kiss to Jonah’s cheek. “Then I hope it will. And that whether it does or doesn’t, that we will meet again in the future and fall in love all over again. That we are soulmates who can never be parted.”

Jonah lifted himself up, returning the kiss to Lancelot’s lips. “That sounds like a wonderful concept. I hope it comes true, because I don’t think you would take care of yourself if I wasn’t there!”