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So it is done: Where the line is drawn
🕑 Added 2023-07-15 14:05:56 +0000 UTCOpening his eyes, Jonathan allowed himself a few moments of morning grogginess before forcibly bringing himself to full wakefulness. Today’s the eighteenth of May in the year one thousand seven hundred and forty-five, a Monday. And more importantly, tomorrow is Kali's birthday.
The secretary should have picked out a present for her by now.
Of course, Jonathan, the ruler of Glenn, couldn't afford to be distracted by something as mundane as picking out suitable birthday presents. At least not unless it was for Cinder and Neo. After all, even discounting the fact that Cinder and Neo were crucial figures in his personal life, they are also one in Glenn's politics.
Kali Belladonna? Not so much, even with her leading role in politics as the former head of security of Menagerie and Ghira’s, she was just ‘one’ of the leading figures, and most of her influence lies in Menagerie and with the Faunus.
And maybe by our actions, she doesn't even have that long to stay on top… Or even alive? What do you think, Jonathan?
Jonathan paused for a moment and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind of intrusive thoughts, failing miserably.
Of course, Jonathan. Why do we have to talk about something we've been to over a hundred times in the past? Just do it, forget the past. Cross out another life with one word, ten lives, one hundred lives, You can't save them all – sometimes you have to sacrifice a hundred to save a thousand. Sacrifice a woman, a wife, and mother both to save a hundred more. Come on, Jonathan, isn't that usually how our reasoning goes? Your decisions? We already know where this is going to go, don't we? So why the hesitation?
Jonathan could only sigh as he kept covering his eyes, invoking a spell, feeling the subtle change in the world around him before he opened his eyes. Taking the final step, he now found himself in the bathroom instead of the room he was supposed to be in after passing by the door, exactly where he wanted to go.
Closing the door behind him before stepping into the shower, his usual morning ritual, a cold shower five minutes between going out of the bed and starting work. Unlike most people, he couldn't afford a relaxing mug of tea before starting his shift, typically. Of course, being in the position as the highest authority of the land, he could theoretically spend as much as time drinking tea at any time. Most Kings have wasted their time on less important pastimes.
But that was hardly what Jonathan needed in these moments. A quick shower, teeth brushing, a change of clothes, and another step later, and he’s in the kitchen. Cinder's voice, no less familiar to Jonathan in the morning than his alarm clock, made Jonathan nod, turning his gaze to Cinder. “Up already?”
Of course, as one might expect, a mug of freshly brewed tea was already in Jonathan's usual spot on the table alongside a couple of freshly toasted toasts. Jonathan didn't have to think about who had prepared the breakfast, Cinder had wrested the right to do the cooking from him a long time ago, and she had never let it go.
In fact, every such household duties were already in Cinder’s iron-grip. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, Jonathan could easily imagine Cinder choking with indignation if he ever even insinuated some ‘outsider’ to do Cinder’s jobs.
Whether it was a professional, a RATS agent, or the Brothers from heaven who had suddenly decided to take a part-time job in Jonathan's small, by the standards of the world's big shots, house.
Somewhat fortunately for Jonathan, at least Cinder did not also force herself into becoming his personal driver and bodyguard. The role was not taken over by Neo either, thankfully, instead being taken by a RATS agent. To be honest, Neo would not have minded taking on the role, but looking at Neo's driving style, who preferred to call the ‘rules’ of the road more like ‘suggestions’?
Both Cinder and Jonathan decided that this was the solution they would compromise on.
But excluding this one position, Cinder was extremely sensitive about Jonathan's care, needless to say, Jonathan's secretary had to suffer every time Cinder visited his office. Who knows how that girl's life would have turned out if she hadn't fulfilled her duties with all the zeal and thoroughness she could muster.
It was also because Cinder was the only one who knew how her life would have turned out otherwise, and no one else wanted to know what Cinder knew.
“What do you have today on your schedule, combat training with Qrow?” Jonathan sat down in his seat, allowing himself to delay the start of his workday for a few more minutes, talking about completely mundane things, Cinder's training.
“Yes, but under the current circumstances, it's more just sparring to gain experience rather than any real lessons.” Cinder replied calmly, taking a sip of her coffee. “I'm not complaining. I have no doubt about Qrow's teaching skills at all, especially now that the request for his dismissal for inappropriate behavior in class, alcoholism, and the like are already put to rest, for which I thank you, Jonathan. He has disgraced the teaching profession enough with such behavior…” An expression of disgust flashed on Cinder’s usually immaculate face, before she seemed to wash it off with a gulp of her hot beverage.
“But, nonetheless, even now that it has been resolved, there is still a limit to what can be taught at the Academy in all this time. Qrow has already taught us all kinds of basic combat tactics and corrected many mistakes, but perfect polishing of our fighting styles… Especially considering the uniqueness of each Hunter, it is impossible in an Academy setting. It would take years of field work to accomplish that…”
Buttering her toast, Cinder then took a tasteful bite of it, each one a measured movement so as to not look like a slob.
“Which means that right now, all Professor could do is to spar endlessly between us, over and over again… I have to admit that it's not the most exhilarating experience, especially now, at the end of my studies.”
The memory of watching Qrow’s previous ‘class’ made Jonathan chuckle for a moment. How had he managed to become a teacher in Signal with his manners and teaching style? Perhaps for a Hunter, such things were forgivable.
No one cared about manners on a mission to kill Grimm in distant lands. Any problems arising due to alcohol consumption became the personal problem of the team of Hunters. And, given the incredible amount of mental stress they received on such missions, it was not only stupid, but impossible to demand from the Hunters to maintain perfect tidiness.
However, the demands that were placed on Hunters engaged in battles with Grimm in distant lands were not placed on teachers at a Hunter Academy, and vice versa.
The Academy, in one way or another, was not only an educational institution but also a social one. A place of education where students were not only taught the basics of their craft, but also provided an example of what a Hunter was and how they were expected to act. On the job and in society.
And while Jonathan would not want to be a hypocritical puritan, knowing that the teachers were also human and the students would have acquired the vices that suited them best without his guidance, there was a fine line. Not hiding and not showing off, there are limits to displaying the unsavory aspects of life that should not be crossed, by teachers, Hunters or any other of Glenn’s residents.
So when Qrow first showed up at the doorstep of his combat training class with the smell of booze wafting from every crevice, exaggeratedly precise movements and a sly smirk on his lips, it was an immediate out. He was yanked from his lesson a dozen minutes later, his absence of course, leaving the students to study under the guidance of a substitute teacher, after which he met directly with Jonathan. Who then thoroughly informed him that teaching and drinking could be combined, as long as one was not done during the other.
Otherwise, Jonathan was certainly willing to utilize his skills, and not in a teaching role. Though, he didn't have to do much to ‘fix’ Qrow’s behavior.
Qrow, despite his behavior and temperament, liked to teach, and was a good teacher, so after the conversation he realized his mistakes and preferred to work on them, and quite successfully.
So, hiding a grin on his face, savoring the memories of his past victory over Qrow’s alcoholism, Jonathan took a sip of tea. “Unfortunately, there are not that many perfect things in the world, and the timetable is not one of them. Still, I'll have to mention this to the deputy, so that he can gather information about the final months of training and think about using them to his advantage. Maybe we could increase the number of practical missions?”
Jonathan noted in his corner of his mind the need to do something in the future before returning to his tea. Unfortunately, even being able to change almost anything in Glenn to suit his whims, Jonathan did not have the ability to control every single thing in Glenn. Even now, dealing solely with matters of special national importance, he was already buried under a constant backlog of work.
If he also started putting his hands on the curriculum for the Academy… No amount of magic would save him from an untimely death.
“I thought you were going to suggest such a thing, so I've already gathered most of the information I need for the work-analysis and a few suggestions.” Cinder replied as if it were a self-evident and expected fact that she would be making plans to reform education at the Academy.
However, before Jonathan could even be annoyed that Cinder had once again taken on more responsibilities, she broke Jonathan's argument, "I have to do something in class, don't I?”
Answering with a readied eyebrow, as if she was to challenge him to find a complaint, Jonathan could only shut it again with a sigh. This is already a well-rehearsed argument after all, Jonathan asking Cinder to only have a 23-hour shift rather than the normal 24-hour, exaggerated of course. With a defeated sip, Jonathan could only conclude that Cinder had won this round.
Cinder, observing this picture, only smiled slightly before turning back to her mug of coffee and taking a sip, enjoying the silent and calm atmosphere established between the two of them for a few brief moments. No thinking, no work, just the two of them, in the morning enjoying breakfast like any other married couple… Cinder thought for a moment about bringing up a new topic of conversation, maybe something trivial, something pleasant or something funny.
Before deciding that she didn't want to trade her enjoyment of the current situation so easily for something as mundane as conversation, and so only silently continued to take sip after sip, looking at, admiring, in fact, Jonathan.
Jonathan responded to this gesture with a practically identical one. Silently continuing to take sip after sip, looking first at the world outside the window without thinking about anything important, before turning his gaze to Cinder and smiling reflexively, catching her gaze.
For a long dozen and a half seconds there was silence, peace, and a calm, almost joyful atmosphere in Jonathan's kitchen… Before it was interrupted by the quiet chime of a bell, slightly muffled by the strip of cloth separating the scroll speaker from the surrounding space. Jonathan’s scroll was ringing in his trouser pocket
Of course, Jonathan's scroll was not used for personal tasks, was not public and the vast majority of Remnant's population could never dream of knowing his number. Which in turn meant that the person who decided to call him at this moment was not only one of the highest circles, be it business, politics, or the army. But, they were also well aware that calling Jonathan's scroll, especially in the early morning, for personal matters and to talk about the 'weather' was an extremely stupid idea.
So, with a sigh, feeling the calmness and relaxing moment evaporate under the impact of imminent reality, Jonathan smiled apologetically before raising the scroll to his face.
At the very least, answering the scroll call would distract him from watching Cinder’s expression turn positively murderous. Whoever it is on the other end of his scroll, Jonathan really hopes that they have a good reason.
***
Tapping his pen on the table was one of the habits that Jonathan had picked up quite by accident during his time working, well reigning, as King. It wasn't a habit that was too important to him, nor was it too annoying, nor did it seep into his life, but it was definitely a tell that is very visible.
He would be very bad at poker, is what he’s saying.
When Jonathan was thinking about something deeply, agonizing over it really, he preferred to either walk around his office like a cornered lion, or to think by doing mechanical movements with his hands and fingers. It was not a habit he could consciously control, which gives his office, a place without clocks, sound as if there’s one, the constant click and clacking made his office tick, as if a clock were counting down its run.
In fact, by judging by the speed and intensity of the sound, an outside observer could tell at what intensity Jonathan was thinking at any given moment.
If, of course, an outside observer could even be in Jonathan's office at that moment.
The bulk of the papers Jonathan received during his working hours were reports. Budget spending information, statistical analyses, ministerial memos and routine general notes, reports that Glenn continued to live, and how exactly it continued to do so. Day after day, with graphs, columns, and figures spread across hundreds of pages every day, one could get a first-hand picture of Glenn.
This was to be expected. Being in the position of the most superior of all supervisors, it was simply physically impossible for Jonathan to receive a directive from his boss, an indication of what he was supposed to be doing at any given moment. No, instead Jonathan was forced to choose his own tasks, and to take responsibility for their fulfillment, or failure.
Budget allocation, city planning initiatives, diplomatic summits, economic forums, political receptions, military modernization…
Eliminating political rivals.
The pen in Jonathan's hands paused for a moment as his gaze lingered on another line of the report he had been given.
Approximate rating of popular support for the Glenn Monarchy within Glenn – 84% of respondents said they ‘support current Glenn policies’ or ‘fully support current Glenn policies’. 12% expressed that they ‘have nothing against current Glenn policies’. Approval within Menagerie – 57% 'support' or 'strongly support', while 24% are neutral. The overall level of support for the Glenn monarchy can be characterized as 'high' in both cases, and the assessment of popular support within Glenn can be described as 'unshakable' without exaggeration.
Following this report is the next, of roughly similar content. Then the next – reactions to media projects and media coverage, media popularity and ratings of programs promoting his positive image, all of them painted roughly the same picture – universal love and approval. Overarching support within Glenn, and, to only a slightly lesser extent, in Menagerie.
Half the population of Menagerie approved of his actions, was that good or bad?
From a perspective as an ally, there was nothing wrong with it. If Menagerie and Glenn were close, acting according to the same plan of action, pursuing the same goal, it was a good thing. Even more, such a poll in this case would serve as an indirect confirmation of Ghira's own approval rating.
If it were that simple, that would be just fine.
The problem was that there were no two states in politics that pursued exactly the same goals. If two states did that, they were one state, or at best, one was a protectorate of the other, a subordinate and its leader.
In some ways, the policies, views, and desires of states, even of the closest of allies, were always different from each other, either because of the nature of the people or just the politics. Even if allies were always ready to share the resources he received in equal proportion with his ‘friends’, self-interest would make it so that conflict would still arise.
But why don't we take not half, but six tenths? Seven? Or maybe all of them at once?
And it didn’t even have to be out of greed or malice, but simply because it would improve the living conditions of its accountable inhabitants a little more, a little better. Didn't those who entrusted their lives to your administration, for whose lives you were responsible, deserve more? So while public support for the actions of your allies was necessary, at the very least to ensure public support for your own political alliances, like everything in life, such actions required maintaining a delicate balance.
The ruler wanted the people to support his allies, but not too much. The people were to follow their leader first and foremost, and the state's allies were to be mere extras, ‘friends of friends’ whose authority depended on the government. So that, should the need arise, the government could bid farewell to its past ‘friends’ and take a necessary, albeit not always pleasant, step.
Jonathan? Jonathan handled this need quite well. Despite the generally favorable attitude of Glenn’s inhabitants towards Menagerie, the people of Glenn did not regard Menagerie as anything unique, nor did they regard Ghira with any particular piety, considering him a positive character, but nothing more. However, to Jonathan, in Menagerie he was ‘second to Ghira’, a position dangerous to Ghira even if Jonathan had been his subordinate.
Being the head of a different state? The situation for Ghira was… Close to catastrophic.
Where Ghira was seen as the realizer of Menagerie's salvation, Jonathan was seen as its architect. Jonathan was the heroic figure who had toppled Atlas from its pedestal, and rose Menagerie’s position from the bottom of the pile. Furthermore, and perhaps much more important, he had given a place for Faunus to live, work and rest besides a desolate jungle-covered forgotten island on the edge of the entire world.
In other words, Ghira was bound hand and foot along with Jonathan, while Jonathan enjoyed far more freedom in regard to Ghira. Even now, in the event that Ghira's elimination occurs by one of the more suspicious options, there would not be too much hesitation among Glenn or even Menagerie to support Jonathan….
So we urgently need to get rid of Ghira and his family. Think about it, Jonathan, doesn't our population deserve the best? Aren't we going to take care of Menagerie's population? Wouldn't we be the best, the most honorable, the most suitable option for the world, even if the world itself decides to resent our intervention? Come on, Jonathan, one order, one call and the process will be set in motion…
Getting rid of Ghira was easy, not difficult at all. At worst, Jonathan was in for a bit of unrest… Which made it the hardest decision he could’ve made.
And we know how to quell unrest, don't we, Jonathan?
A couple of people in the night, a couple of disappearing journalists, a couple of random notes, and no one would remember that Menagerie had once been ruled by Ghira Belladonna at all. After all, the White Fang had long since been all but abolished as an organization once what they were fighting had been achieved. The rights of the Faunus were respected in Menagerie and Glenn, and nobody in the other Kingdoms that wanted to even have an iota of Jonathan’s goodwill would dare to do anything to the Faunus.
Most of the common people of the state had little concern for lofty matters. They don’t care who runs their government, as long as they continue to put the same food on the table, in the same house and with the same people around them.
That is why we urgently need to make a move, Jonathan. One murder and the crisis is solved, no repercussions, may the wise, honest, just King Jonathan Goodman be praised! Even if you don't want to kill Ghira or his family, you can always just kick Ghira's arse out of office, can't you? A hint at what will happen to him, should he continue to play on his own, would easily do it. Eventually Ghira will believe our threat, won't he? He's got Robin as an example in front of him, an example that you really will go to any lengths for…
For what?
Jonathan looked up at the small mirror on the wall and his reflection smiled back at him.
For the greater good, of course, Jonathan. Isn't that the highest, best of all goals?
For the greater good, huh…
Jonathan shifted his gaze from the mirror to the stack of papers in front of him before returning his gaze to the person smiling at him from beyond the mirror.
And once upon a time I refused to dance to Ozpin's tune because I was disgusted at a similar plan, and yet here we are…
And once upon a time, you didn't think about how hard it was to make money. That you didn't know that food has to be cooked yourself and that it comes from other people's labor. And before that, you didn't know how to talk, walk or control your natural needs, once upon a time, when you were a child. Why think about it, Jonathan, the world changes, and we change with it, we grow and develop, and everything becomes different before our eyes, and what seemed unbelievable yesterday becomes normal today. That's life, Jonathan. That's the sad truth of life.
Growing up, huh? An uncontrollable natural process that is foolish and futile to fight. A perfectly normal event that can only be accepted as normal…
Exactly, Jonathan. Castles in the skies are replaced by reality, and surprisingly for you, you have become one of those whose castles of air has become a real castle. The royal title would be a cause for pride and envy of your former classmates at the reunion to celebrate your graduation. Should you ask for more fulfillment of naive dreams when you have already achieved such incredible things?
Jonathan sighed, looking in the mirror before lifting the pen in his palm again, ostensibly returning to the stacks of papers lying in front of him. A gesture as banal as it was pointless. As if Jonathan was trying to convince himself that these musings were just distracted thoughts. That he needed to get on with his work, that he just needed to get these trivial things out of his head and get back to work… And they would disappear
As if it really was just an inescapable truth of life. You can't save everyone without sacrificing at least one.
Was there really no other choice? Was there really no other way? Another name crossed out, not the first and not the last, what's the big deal? For all the horror of what had happened and what would happen, Jonathan was well aware that this path had begun long ago, and would continue after Ghira, regardless of what action he took today.
So can it be considered… Hypocrisy? It's so easy to sacrifice hundreds of faceless goons on the streets, Glenn, Menagerie, Atlas, Mantle, how many have died there? And yet, somehow, there's such doubt inside, just when faced with a personal choice. Isn't that hypocrisy, Jonathan? Selfishness? The whole world can go down in flames, but when I have to sacrifice my comfort for the whole world, are we incapable of doing so? If we can't sacrifice one more… Then what is the meaning of all the sacrifices you have made in the past? Or did the lives of all the other people mean nothing to you, didn't mean anything because you didn't know them personally? Had you no sympathy or affection for them?
Was it really hypocrisy? Selfishness even? It was easy to sacrifice hundreds of faceless invisible people, hundreds of lines and numbers on lists and reports, never even taking a note of them, despite the fact that every person on that list was a person. They were no less important than Ghira Belladonna.
And refuse to do the same with Ghira Belladonna that Jonathan knew personally, one might even say, cared about? After all, what exactly was it that put him above the others? Why did he have to survive while thousands of others did not?
Jonathan silently continued to twirl his pen in his hands, pondering the question.
Did Ghira really have to survive? Could Jonathan really allow himself to stop, here and now, to draw a bold line and put a stop to the path he’s taken?
What to do next, then? After Ghira there would be others, many in fact, how would you deal with them? Leave them alone, ridding yourself of the opportunity to deal with the kingdom's problems? Or continue to deal with those simply by sparing Ghira, the nepotism that allowed someone to survive who should have died like a hundred others? Or not? Just a single suggestion would suffice, and in the world of politics, a ‘suggestion’ was one of the gentlest options for influencing a target.
Unbidden, the office was silent.
So why don't we just do that? It's practically painless, even more so, isn't it the best of all, far from being the most pleasant option? Just a little pressure, a little threat and everything will be resolved, no problem. Shouldn't we aim for that, Jonathan? The best consensus of all possibilities.
And then what? If I step over Ghira now, deciding I can't stop, for the sake of those I've already sacrificed… When will I be able to stop? Will I be able to stop at all? If the need arises to stand up against Neo, against Cinder. What then?
Jonathan looked again at his reflection in the mirror, smirking at his thoughts.
It's up to you, Jonathan. The choice is yours.
