rure
patreon
So it is done: When 'rules' become 'details'
🕑 Added 2023-08-03 06:23:08 +0000 UTCJonathan arrived home in the evening, when Cinder and Neo were already home. Cinder with a book in her hands, enjoying the biscuits she'd baked earlier, and Neo, having already consumed her portion, and a few more, doing push-ups on her fingers. Not out of any great desire to improve on her previous record, but purely out of boredom. All her friends, or at least the people she usually hangs out with, were away.
Amber had left for Yang's training and Vernal had followed her, not for Yang's sake, though, but for Raven's, and Trifa had been at the ranges for the second week, training, day in and day out.
Cinder didn't want to play cards, and she didn't want to do her homework. Brothers save her from homework, Neo didn’t want to do it when her grades mattered, she certainly didn’t want to do it when it already no longer matters. So, it was quite the serious matter when she was considering just doing it to have something to do.
She was getting pretty tired of watching films, she hadn't seen anything worth watching on TV or at the box office in a long time anyway. But she forced herself to keep watching the boring shows rather than resorting to doing her homework. It’s the principle of it!
So, when the low rumble of an engine stopped outside the house, signalling Jonathan's arrival, both of his adopted daughters looked at the door in anticipation. Cinder in her eternal anticipation of any sight of Jonathan, and Neo in anticipation of any news or business that might distract her from her boredom for a while.
Cinder even set her book aside, putting a bookmark like the nerd that she is. She was one of only two people in Neo’s memory that used bookmarks at all, and that’s not even include Jonathan. The moment Jonathan's first footsteps sounded in the hallway, with the rustle of a cloak in the hallway, followed by Jonathan's softer footsteps. Judging by the sound, Jonathan had removed his usual work shoes and changed into house slippers first thing upon entering the house.
When he entered the room a moment later, he didn't even put any notice to the fact that Cinder was waiting on him by the door, used to the routine of such events. Instead, he looked at Neo with a mute question, one eyebrow raised. Neo responded by pointing at Cinder, then at herself, then at Jonathan, shrugging, raising an eyebrow, pointing at her watch, and miming a pantomime of a hug.
A set of actions, especially considering the fact that Neo was not fluent in sign language, that would have sent anyone meeting Neo for the first time into a complete stupor… And even with their hundredth meeting, too. For Jonathan, though, the set of strange gestures and actions seemed to automatically translate in his mind into a completely legible sentence.
‘Just like Cinder, I decided to wait for you from work, what, am I not your daughter too?’
“Of course you're also my daughter, Neo.” Jonathan sighed at the strange question, as he made his way to the couch before falling onto it a little heavier than usual, before smiling slightly as he looked at Neo.
"But if I had to guess the real reason why you’re waiting on me… I'd say it's more likely that you were bored and decided to meet me as soon as possible so that I could tell you some interesting news, rumor or otherwise help you have fun. Am I right?
At this accusation slash guess, Neo simply rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, you could say that.’
Jonathan only grinned at that answer, not the least bit annoyed either by Neo's motivation or her honesty. While Cinder, casting a disapproving glance at Neo, only rolled her eyes and turned back to Jonathan, proof of how well Neo was actually treated and how close a person Cinder considered her to be. If it had been anyone else in Neo’s place who had tried to use Jonathan for entertainment – well, there were fates worse than death in the world.
And the creepiest part was that thinking about it, Neo didn't think such a thought was a joke.
“Not that I'm reluctant to reveal to you the deepest secrets about the inner workings of Glenn and Remnant…” Jonathan glanced at Neo before closing his eyes, stretching tiredly on the couch. “But you're hardly interested in the future heads of the Ministry of Economy or the internal strife of the Mistral clans. So, what you might be interested in… Hmm, last I heard, Pierre Carmine was designing a new line of dresses. Not those weird dresses made of lettuce leaves and wooden planks for 'haute couture week', but something actually beautiful and practical, so if you feel like it, you can visit him this weekend. I think he wouldn't mind ordering from a royal daughter.”
Neo grinned and nodded gratefully to Jonathan before rising from her seat, her evening now having something to occupy it with. Although she wasn't a fan of dresses, Carmine was perfectly capable of working not only with such style, but also with those that Neo herself might like. Heading to her room to design her order for the fashion designer, or perhaps to contact him right now, dispelling her boredom with an activity that could last at least the rest of the current day. Leaving Jonathan and Cinder alone.
“I can see that the daily political maneuvering is making a mark on your actions.” Cinder said carefully, trying to pass it off as a light joke about how easy it was for Jonathan to send Neo away to allow Jonathan to have a private dialogue with Cinder. But knowing full well that it was not a topic Jonathan could easily discuss, and clearly not a topic he liked to discuss, immediately stopped.
“Sometimes they come in handy in normal life as well.” Jonathan replied easily, putting Cinder's mind at ease, but after a moment the faint smile on his face faltered before he looked at Cinder carefully. Cinder, not daring to interrupt Jonathan's musings, didn’t ask, knowing inwardly exactly what Jonathan was thinking and wanting to say… And so badly not wanting to say it, not having the strength to bring up the subject first, causing the room to fall into silence before Jonathan did speak again.
“Kali's birthday….” Jonathan began before stopping.
Cinder loved and hated the fact that she knew Jonathan so personally. She loved the way that she could guess the best gifts for him, his favorite daily rituals, even guessing his thoughts and emotions, to brighten his mood a little, relieving whatever was overshadowing it. But she hated the fact that she knew when exactly Jonathan would sink into another sad reflection, and that she could hardly help him at that moment. How much easier it would have been to be ignorant? To not know that there was nothing she could do to help Jonathan, to believe that a couple of pats on the shoulder, some silly and inappropriate pose jutting out her chest, or some meaningless words could help him.
How hard it was to live knowing that such utterance was all empty, contrived, and meaningless. Cinder couldn't help Jonathan, and it tormented her soul.
Of course, Jonathan wasn't actually worried about not being able to find a suitable gift for Kali or feeling uncomfortable about her birthday party tomorrow, but about a decision he has to make. The final, in a way, decision regarding Kali's husband, Ghira, and Menagerie's fate.
What will happen to Menagerie, a lasting alliance between Glenn and it, eventually spilling over into a protectorate and subsequent state takeover. Or the slow unraveling of two once solidly allied brothers, one flexing his muscles, eyeing the international political field, and the other quietly ready to retreat into the shadows, pursuing not lofty goals but a quiet life among equals? Menagerie's fate was being decided in the high offices of Glenn.
Cinder personally, of course, favored an expectedly harsh stance. From her point of view Menagerie was a valuable set of resources, either it is human resources, or its natural, tourist, political, diplomatic resources and so on. That, was worth utilizing. Whoever was trying to gain control of those resources, to get them out from under Glenn's nose, to hand them over to a potential enemy, Ozpin, was the enemy. And an enemy had to be destroyed.
Perhaps not so directly and painfully as to speak specifically of 'destruction', but neutralizing such a threat certainly remained a priority in Cinder's mind.
Unfortunately, Cinder realized that she could only think so freely about such things because to her, Ghira was simply an abstract, a ‘colleague from Jonathan's work’. Ghira was nothing more than a blurry figure on the periphery of her mind, popping up in the center of her mind only when Jonathan talked about him. Rather than a living being, let alone a personal connection, he was simply someone she had heard about.
To Jonathan, however, Ghira was… Not exactly a friend, more like a close work friend, not really that close, but definitely not a stranger at all. Someone with whom Jonathan could, assuming time, work schedules and a hundred thousand other obstacles in Jonathan's way were not there, play cards, celebrate a holiday or even drink something alcoholic together.
Where for Cinder it was easy enough to sign a document to get rid of him, for Jonathan there were many obstacles.
But the worst of it was that Cinder could do nothing about that fact. Really, what could she do, tell Jonathan that he should have killed his ‘almost-friend’ and not think about the consequences and implications of such a thing? That was what Jonathan had been leading her away from all her life, and for all Cinder's possible love of irony, she was unwilling now to switch roles with Jonathan, in terms of someone who understood his actions and accepted them for what they were, and someone who didn't.
Or should she go about it in a different manner altogether? Should she take it upon herself to talk Jonathan out of a possible solution to the Ghira problem? Excluding the very fact that Cinder thought such an outcome was the best possible outcome, eliminating Ghira, that is. In fact, letting Jonathan let a potential adversary go free would only cause for more resources to be diverted, never mind any possible future issues Ghira could cause, not just for Jonathan himself, but for his entire state?
Even if Menagerie wasn't critical to Glenn's existence anymore, it was still an important ally. Ruining the place where Glenn sells most of its things is a foolish action after all. Having Ghira or anyone else causing difficulties there, would shake not only Glenn's hegemony plans, but the entire political situation, perhaps even one day becoming the cause of a threat to Jonathan.
And Cinder could not allow that, not in any way.
Jonathan also understood that as much, no, probably more than Cinder, with his penchant of overthinking things, he probably already has all the potential fallout for any of his actions completely plotted. The need to act in the name of the state, and the need to preserve his humanity, what would happen to him if he didn't stop now? And what would happen if he stopped here?
Decisions, decisions, and decisions, hundreds of thousands of decisions, and none of them were right, because life was not reducible to mathematical models and 'right' answers.
There was no ‘right’ answer to the question posed to Jonathan, in fact, it’s not even a question, but a choice. And Cinder, knowing this as well as Jonathan, was compelled to look into his eyes now, hoping that he could glean something from her thoughts… Even if there was nothing to glean from her thoughts.
Looking into Jonathan's eyes, Cinder wondered for a moment – what did he see in her reflected gaze?
Cinder knew what she saw before her, Jonathan Goodman, an influential and powerful king and politician. One of the strongest men of modern times, but above all, her Jonathan. That confused young man who had once seen an embittered and resentful orphan working as a slave, created by an outright psychopath who takes sick pleasure in the sight of a child writhing in pain in front of her. A man who stood up from his seat and said, ‘it doesn't have to be this way’, before making a hundred mistakes trying to right one injustice that had nothing to do with him.
Someone who had saved her so many times that Cinder's entire life would not be enough to list all the gratitude she felt for him.
But what did Jonathan see himself as? How did he see himself – his decisions, his past, his plans, his future? Some things were unambiguous, of course they would have a family and of course, they would have children, of course everything would end well and of course Ozpin and Salem would be defeated, but… But…
What about beyond that? What steps will be taken, what decisions will be made, what price will they pay and…
How much innocent blood would be shed?
No, that didn't sound quite right.
Cinder didn't care about ‘innocent blood’ being spilled or any other such bullshit. If Jonathan's happiness was on the scales, Cinder was ready to burn Remnant to the ground completely, leaving no mention of the people and civilizations left in the history books. Cinder saw the value in human lives, of course, but just like any resource, a very expensive one sure, but just another resource.
To throw them away needlessly was nothing more than foolishness – but for Jonathan… For Jonathan, human value was something abstract, one that by default he puts in a very high position, while Cinder believed in precision, he believed in emotions, feelings and lofty ideals, while Cinder really only cared about her family.
And that's why it was so hard for him to make a move now – and yet, so hard not to make one at all.
Jonathan had often fallen into such melancholic reflections, too often, for Cinder's taste, but to be fair, even one such event was ‘too’ often for Cinder.
But that wasn't what mattered, what was important was that at the end of each such moment of heavy reflection, Jonathan came back, a little different, a little more weary, but still Jonathan. A little more confident in his life's path, in his choices, with new knowledge and experience, having made a decision that he had long ago made for himself, a decision that he only had to reach.
Has Jonathan already made the decision? Most likely. It is very likely that he already knew his choice, and if Cinder had to wonder what exactly Jonathan had chosen, she would say that he had decided…
To back down and not turn against Ghira Belladonna.
Most likely Jonathan himself already knew what choice he had made, and all he needed to do was to come to that decision, however…
How to arrive at that answer?
And here Cinder could not help Jonathan.
This was a problem that only Jonathan could solve, a problem that, even knowing the answer to the problem, he still had to lead the solution all the way to that answer. That was Jonathan's specialty, he was… He endeavors to be right?
Not in the sense of a person who rigorously followed the letter of the law and the secret unwritten codes of society, but ‘right’ in taking everything into account. Everything had a cause and effect, everything had a plan and a purpose, and in the end everything formed a unified picture, where one thing led to another, until everything was laid out in its place. Each action and reaction was connected to each other and established a static picture of the world, where mysteries meant only ‘unexplored’, nothing more.
Everything had to be explained, and what could not be explained was to be compartmentalized until one got to the ‘unexplainable’, and found a way to explain it definitively.
That was Jonathan's way, and Cinder could hardly do anything about it.
Even if she knew everything there was to know about Jonathan, the sound of his footsteps, his favorite position on the couch, even where he usually left his mug of tea when he hurried to work. She still couldn't see the world through his eyes, and so she couldn't help him with his philosophical musings. Simply because she didn't have the information, she couldn't think the way Jonathan thought, she was just too different a person.
For most problems that Jonathan faces, this was not bad, even good. For solving this particular concern, the difficulty of looking at the world philosophically, it was bad.
So, looking at Jonathan now, realizing her weakness and insignificance in relation to the question before her, all Cinder could do was reach forward and place her hand on Jonathan's shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Causing Jonathan to look away from his musings and lift his gaze upwards, to meet Cinder's gaze.
Cinder only smiled an encouraging smile in response, of course, she realized that cheap words of encouragement like ‘everything will be alright’ were unhelpful at best, and far more likely to be wrong. But at the same time, Cinder couldn't just let Jonathan stew in his uncertainty silently, letting his incessant ruminations continue.
After all, Cinder was not a creature made of logical thoughts alone, no matter what her peers and teacher might think of her, they couldn’t be more wrong. She was in fact a very emotional woman, her mind was full of thoughts, full of feelings. She could not just shrug her shoulders and walk away without supporting Jonathan even in some minimal, meaningless way, in some long hope that her actions might have helped Jonathan.
And Jonathan, feeling Cinder's hand on his shoulder and seeing her gaze, smiled back at her and nodded, "Thank you, Cinder.”
Of course, Cinder didn't expect to think that her support had actually solved all of Jonathan's questions and put his mind at ease, but the moment he smiled, Cinder felt a little warmer and couldn't help but reply, "You are welcome.”
After another moment Cinder, unable to resist, leaned forward and pressed her lips to Jonathan's, allowing him, and herself, to forget everything for a few brief moments before she leaned back. After taking a deep breath, she reflexively ran her hands over her face as if hoping to get the color off her face. Jonathan, who looked slightly better, but only a little, as could be seen by the way he looked away from Cinder, genuinely trying to look calm. Looking at the wallpaper, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Even when they’re already in a relationship for quite some time, displays of affections were still something embarrassing to them.
"Ahem… Yes, well, thank you, Cinder.”
Cinder grinned in response to Jonathan’s embarrassed words. "I still have more…”
“That's a tempting offer, but I will have to pass," Jonathan looked away, he took a step, and then, a moment later, it was as if he had never been on the couch at all. The sound of footsteps in the bathroom told Cinder that Jonathan had escaped by teleporting into the other room. Cinder herself, however, didn't mind this development, plopping down on the couch she noisily took a deep breath.
Of course one could say that this was another of Cinder's manipulations to distract Jonathan from his thoughts, and in a way it was, but….
However, Cinder just felt like kissing Jonathan. If that action achieved more than one result at once? Well, that was even better.
***
Sleep passed over Jonathan as quietly as it had so many times before, awakening as his scroll rattled to herald a new day. Jonathan had had trouble sleeping in the past, the constant stress and obligations he was under, the thoughts of the past and the future, of plans and orders, kept him alert even through the weekly black shroud of oblivion.
But no longer.
For the past year, or maybe two now, Jonathan hadn't woken up in the middle of the night and tossed and turned in his sleep from doubt. Instead, Jonathan had… gotten used to it. Gotten used to the incredible responsibility, the horrendous work schedule, and the constant morally gray decisions that he was forced to make as a king.
Put money into health care or small business support? Concentrate on modernizing Glenn's military thinking, or on growing the army? Promote the hawk faction or the dove faction? At first, he would spend sleepless nights, agonizing over every decision.
And today was another day like that – a couple more decisions, a couple more orders, and another morally gray decision. But it was simply ‘another’ day, it’s amazing what humans could get used to, huh?
Well, Jonathan? How's our decision regarding Menagerie going?
Jonathan was not the kind of man who preferred to deal with problems as they arose. No, Jonathan preferred to make clear and understandable plans for himself and act according to them for as long as he needed to, of course, this did not mean that Jonathan hid from decision-making by endlessly honing his plans as an excuse. He was just as well aware that no plan was ever tested by reality without being changed. However…
However… what? However, what, Jonathan?
Jonathan froze for a moment, sitting up on his bed, slowly opening and closing his eyes, trying to shake off his morning drowsiness before getting up and, using magic, finding himself in the bathroom again already divested of his clothing.
However… We can't fumble for an excuse, Jonathan. That's the problem, we know the answer, but we can't reason ourselves into it. All these subtle matters, these long thoughts about right and good are layered on top of each other, fragile and heavy structures pressing on your morality, they don't fit together. Why, Jonathan, do you think so?
Jonathan turned the knob on the shower before sticking his head under the cold shower jets, not the most pleasant feeling in the world, but definitely a good way to start the day.
Because there's no way we can bring it all together. So many fabrications, so many hundreds of considerations, so many solutions and conclusions, overlapping each other until we ourselves are confused by them. Logic upon logic, repeat ad infinitum, until everything is ordered and understandable and… And what is at the end? What does your logic say? Can you hold the crumbling colossus of logical conclusions and decisions together, can you strengthen the feeble ones, introduce a few more crutches that support the system again? Maybe this time you'll be able to lay another new meaning into your own moral paradigm, one, two, three, or even a hundred new ones? What, Jonathan? Do you think your paradigm can handle another hundred new conclusions again, or not?
Drops of water continued to run down Jonathan's face and shoulders for a few more minutes, fully awake now, he actually set the water into something warmer. Before he set about cleaning himself using the toothbrush, toothpaste after the shampoo and soap.
Suppose you can deal with this problem once again, why not? You've dealt with it before – another long and painful philosophical and moral experiment, the results of which will allow you to dissect your own views and incorporate another element into your paradigm. And… What next?
Jonathan glanced in the mirror before picking up the razor, getting rid of the light stubble that had appeared on his face over the past couple of days.
The concern is not that, or, not only that. We are once again faced with a choice again, but that this choice breaks the previous logical chains again. It does not fit into the previous instructions, again something is out of your control, again something does not go according to plan… And you are angry, Jonathan. Angry at yourself, at the fact that you are trying, but you can't find the key to all the doors. That once again you can't find one answer to all the questions, that you can't create your own imaginary perfect theory that describes everything. You're angry because you can create a theory, lay everything out, but every time it turns out to be… Not enough. Every time something gets in your way, and every time you dive back to the beginning again, try to make adjustments, recalculate the equation again. Adding new variables, or two, or ten, until all your imaginary calculations are satisfactory…
After rinsing his mouth one last time and rinsing his face, Jonathan dried himself with a towel before looking up at the mirror in front of him. A mirror that only rolled its eyes at his action before looking into his eyes, practically mocking him.
At what point did this turn into a game, Jonathan? At what point did your solid morals turn into a jigsaw puzzle – an attempt to fit every possible piece into one picture? Trying to connect the disparate pieces, at what point did your moral paradigm that you were supposed to follow in your life become a puzzle with no indispensable pieces, no firm beliefs, just a set of beliefs. Every time a piece doesn’t fit, you reorganize the entire picture to something you can stomach. Furthermore, Jonathan – tell me what is the ‘right’ picture now, that you are a ‘good’ person? Or that you are ‘Jonathan Goodman’? What do these words mean? Blurred unattainable absolutes turned into inscrutable abstract concepts that you still follow no matter what… Or at least think that you do.
Jonathan glanced at the mirror one last time before taking a step away from his reflection, turning around to face a new day. The day he was supposed to attend Kali's birthday party, meet with Ghira, and determine the fate of Menagerie.
But the reflection behind Jonathan's back only smiled back as he disappeared.
Go away, Jonathan, but know that you cannot escape me. Just as you can't escape from yourself.
Comments
clagann
The man in the mirror doesn’t seem like johnathan more like a corrupting alter ego
