Heir Apparently

Lauriston Lectures

"So do you think you two will talk? Do you think he'll even show his face?" Greg wondered.
"I have no idea what goes on in his head, but I hope we talk. I hope he can still look at me without crying." John said with a laugh.
"Was he crying?" Greg wondered.
"When I got there he was. He thought I wasn't going to come." John admitted. Greg just laughed, as if Sherlock's pain was really amusing to him.
"What a loser." He decided.
"Oh shut up!" John insisted, pushing Greg into the wall so that he bounced off the stone. They all reached the dining room safely, so they got right to their usual duties of setting the table and pouring the drinks and making sure all of the silverware shined. As soon as the cooks had arranged all the food on the table the servants scurried into the closet, just in time for the door to open and the queen to arrive, looking very worn out, as if it had been a long night. John was the one to press his eye to the key hole once more; obviously this was a job they saved for him, as they knew he had much to look out.
"Is you know who there yet?" Greg whispered, casting suspicious glances to the servants who were very keenly listening in.
"The queen is here." John said, which answered Greg's questions but also didn't give any hints to who 'you know who' might be. John watched as the queen sat herself down in her chair, sighing heavily before starting on her breakfast, most of which involved fruit, as if she were trying to watch her weight. As usual Mycroft arrived second, saying some sort of greeting his mother before sitting down and beginning his breakfast as well. John wished he could hear what they were saying, but they were talking too quietly to one another, almost as if intentionally hiding their words from the servants who hid behind their door. Then the last member of the Holmes family made his appearance, shushing the other two's conversation as soon as he entered the room. Sherlock looked radiant, positively gorgeous, but the smile on his face was what really made him shine. He looked happy, happier than John had ever seen him, obviously that kiss had meant more to the king than John could've ever imagined.
"We're not alone." John muttered, the only thing he could think to say that could alert Greg discreetly of Sherlock's sudden appearance.
"Brilliant. What facial expressions is this certain someone wearing?" Greg wondered.
"Happy, very happy." John decided. John noticed Sherlock glance towards the door where John crouched behind, he fought every urge to just run out there and press their lips together once more, but he knew that was impossible. No, everyone would be watching them; it would be a horrible catastrophe.
"Who are you talking about?" a woman wondered from the back, walking closer as to hear their vague conversation more clearly.
"No one." they both said at the same time, looking up at her with the guiltiest expressions known to all of mankind. The woman smiled rather suspiciously, but looked apprehensive to ask more questions.
"You've both been acting very odd lately, what's going on?" another servant wondered, obviously noticing the brave woman who had approached them on the matter.
"Nothing's going on of course." John insisted, glaring at Greg as if daring him so say something else.
"Is it because of what Sherlock wanted to tell you the other night, the note he left you?" someone guessed. Darn it, how is everyone so observant around here?
"It has nothing to do with Sherlock, that's a stupid theory." Greg insisted, distracting the servants so that John could peer through the key hole once door and watch the back of Sherlock's chair, knowing that beautiful king was seated in it.
"I think there's something you're not telling us John, personal things." someone guessed, and John just laughed, smiling at them as if wondering if they were hearing themselves.
"Of course there are things I'm not telling you, I told you that I'm not telling you." John pointed out, thinking that should be enough of an explanation for now.
"Yes well, we want to know, all of us!" someone insisted. John sighed heavily, shaking his head before watching Sherlock's arm swoop from around the back of the chair to grab some sort of bowl from the other side of the table. What a beautiful arm.
"Let him be, everyone is entitled to some privacy, right?" Greg insisted, looking at the servants as if their curiosity disgusted him. There was a soft murmur of agreement, obviously people were being super nosy and they just didn't want to admit it. Obviously if Greg didn't know he would be badgering John twice as much, but since he knew the truth the curiosity didn't sting as much. John didn't care, he was never going to tell them so he didn't mind them wanting to know, but he still wasn't going to pour out his heart just because they said please. There was a certain elegancy that went into this whole process, a dainty dance to do everything right, everything soft and secretive, that is until the two of them were ready to announce their relationship. That day, of course, was probably never going to happen. John knew that this time next week they would be mourning the loss of another king, a much younger and much more attractive one at that. When finally all the royals got up from their chairs and made their grant exit, the servants rushed in to clear the plates, wiping off the table and taking any excess food back to the kitchens. John was very keen on helping of course, but he was more interested in seeing what Sherlock might be doing, so he kept glancing towards the door, as if Sherlock had been waiting for him to notice his presence. But no, there was no one standing at the doors, and John was left to bring used plates back to the kitchen in disappointment. He was just stacking them up near the tubs of soapy water when a woman came and flagged him down through the steam rising from the fires.
"John, there's someone out there who wants to talk to you." She said in a pant, looking very proud to have carried the message so far.
"Who is it?" John wondered, trying to peer out the window but it seemed like there was no one but servants. Of course he could only take a guess who, the only person who would want to talk to John but was too scared to come get him himself.
"A royal, you better see for yourself." She insisted, pushing John out the door as quickly as she could as to not get in any trouble. John just shrugged, dropping his dish rag and walking out of the kitchens, happy to get out of doing any nasty chores this morning. He made his way out of the dining room into the hallway, but instead of Sherlock, as he had guessed, it was none other than the queen herself, looking sparkling even in the early morning. She smiled sweetly at him, a smile which John quickly returned, not wanting to seem rude.
"Your majesty, this is an honor." John said politely, dropping into a bow for good measure. The queen just laughed, as if his respectfulness was flattering, if not amusing.
"Don't worry about formalities Mr. Watson, we both know that you're the royalist of all servants." She insisted. John shrugged guiltily, but that was true of course. He was the only servant to ever be on speaking terms with the whole royal family and win the tournament. He was kind of a big deal.
"Well thank you very much ma'am, you're the um...royalist of a queens." John attempted, smiling rather innocently while she just laughed. Obviously she found his stupidity amusing.
"Sherlock talks very fondly of you Mr. Watson, and I can see why." She admitted, looking down on John with an almost motherly gaze.
"He talks about me?" John wondered, deciding that it was out of Sherlock's' character to talk to anyone, much less about his most secret crush.
"Well, occasionally. But I can see it in the way he acts around you; he likes you, even if he doesn't want to admit it. You humanize him in a way, which is good." She decided.
"Well, I guess it's always good to have a good friend." John said with a smile, trying to look as if he hadn't been kissing her son last night on his throne. No, they were just friends. The queen just smiled at him, and, well, she almost looked doubtful. As if she knew that there were secrets that lie in her little king's heart.
"Well Sherlock himself requested your presence at the meetings this morning, he hasn't said why." She admitted.
"The meetings, like...royal meetings?" John wondered, not trying to hide the look of surprise on his face. Those we always so secretive, why would a mere servant be allowed to attend?
"Yes, the royal meetings. He insists that you come after breakfast, around nine thirty I'd say, and he says, and I quote, dress to impress." She said with a bit of a guilty laugh. John nodded, of course he would love to attend, but then again, it would be a bit awkward. It would be the first time they acknowledged each other since John had left him stunned on that throne, and in front of the entire royal board? Who knows what could happen?
"Yes well, I'd love to attend, of course I would." John agreed. The queen smiled at him, obviously knowing that would be his answer.
"And I know that Sherlock would love to have you." She decided, making John smile even more.
"Well then, I guess I'll see you there." John muttered, not quite sure how to end a conversation with the queen. She had already insisted against bowing, so what could he do except walk away?
"And you as well, have a nice day Mr. Watson." She said with a smile, ending the conversation by herself when she swept down the corridor, her heels clicking against the stone floors. John was left blinking and staring at the ground, trying to determine just why Sherlock would want him at such a distinguished meeting. Possibly to be recruited, or maybe just to serve drinks? Either way, he wouldn't mind, curiosity killed the servant.