Joe was pleased with Nicholas. He had seen the potential in the boy from the beginning. Unlike Mia, he had known him when Nicholas was just a child, even before his parents had died. The queen had of course been familiar with the family simply because they moved within the same social and political circles. Joe was somewhat more and somewhat less familiar with them than she, as was usually the case of the people with whom the queen interacted. It was his job to know things, and know things he did in abundance. In making threat assessments and monitoring potential sources of danger over the years, Joe had become the possessor of not a few secrets. Most were harmful only in the embarrassment they would cause if known; the others were dealt with as the situation warranted. All were handled with the utmost of discretion. Nicholas' family had had its fair share of secrets, as did any family, but they were innocuous and carried no shame. And so he simply observed the couple, the family once the boy was born, with the vague disinterest that accompanied their status as unimportant within his sphere of concerns.
The death of the father changed things. The event held all the usual fascinations of any such tragedy, and the ever-professional Joe was not above such human emotions as pity and sorrow, even when felt for people so wholly unconnected with himself. He admired the widow, not just for her beauty which she had in abundance, but for the strength of character that she showed in the face of such cruel circumstances. Her force of will was softened only by the grace with which she carried herself, and surpassed only by the love that she so clearly felt for her son. The queen attended the funeral for the father, and as usual he stood with her, watching. His careful eyes viewed the stubborn set of the mother's chin and the fierce determination in her gaze, and he recognized in her a spirit akin to the one that burned so brightly in his queen. From then on he kept a close watch over the pair, with something like affection and a protectiveness that startled him.
It was not long after the father's death that the mother fell ill. Joe looked in on her, and them, as discretely and as often as he could. When the end began rapidly approaching and it became increasingly clear that there would be no miracle pill or salvation through the hands of a skilled surgeon, Joe ensured that he himself delivered to her the flowers from her majesty. For what reason he did not carefully analyze; he simply felt that she deserved a measure of respect that he could give no other way. The queen attended her funeral, too. Joe couldn't bring himself to more than glance at the casket, the flowers given to honor the dead casting a sickly sweet smell that seemed to cling to him, a reminder he could not so easily avoid. His gaze turned to the boy. Nicholas, far too young to understand what was happening, appeared confused and afraid, but not sad. He was holding the hand of his uncle, who stood with a face like stone. The grasp he had on his nephew was gentle, however, and when the service was over and he knelt to pick up the boy it seemed to Joe that the uncle's trembling hands gained as much strength from the boy as the boy did from him.
Joe tried to keep an eye the two of them, his affection undiminished and his protective instinct only strengthened by the death of the mother. It became increasingly, frustratingly difficult to do so as time went on. Nicholas was sent to boarding school as soon as he was old enough. The uncle was not stationary; he had a home in Genovia but he spent more time out of it than in. They both of them lived and grew far out of Joe's normal range of interests, and Joe refused to abuse his position to gain information about people whose lives mattered to him only, and not to the crown. So they slipped between his fingers. By the time the uncle ceased his wanderings and returned to his responsibilities and place in Parliament his existence again held significance only as it affected the queen.
The discovery that Nicholas, no longer a boy, was the one threatening Mia's position as rightful heir to the throne was unsettling to say the least. Joe was angry. His reaction came from a guttural response to protect Mia and her interests, but it was intensified by the underlying disappointment he felt in the man before him. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and a sense almost of failure to the mother. Her gentle smile and expressive eyes had been passed to Nicholas, and seemed to mock Joe in their constant reminder.
It was after the incident with the horse that Joe first began to hope that Nicholas was a better man that he had first appeared to be. There was real sorrow in the voice that carried from the shed, and those eyes – matching his mother's sincerity of expression – were genuine in their regret and compassion. From that point Joe attempted to take note of Nicholas's actions without past or present emotion in any way clouding his judgment. What he learned surprised him, for which he chastised himself as someone who shouldn't have been surprised by anything. Nicholas, even when attempting to be manipulative, was enjoying himself regardless of whether he gained any ground. His interactions with Mia were in themselves interesting to him. Joe realized long before Nicholas did that any calculated encounter rapidly lost focus on his end goal and centered instead on learning Mia. Loving Mia, eventually. What Joe wasn't sure of at first was whether Nicholas had the strength of character to give up the pursuit of the throne for the sake of that love; or, perhaps more difficult, whether he would let the one he loved marry someone else for the sake of his kingdom.
It was on the day of the almost wedding that Joe concluded his hopes for Nicholas had been justified. There was no doubt left in his mind that Nicholas understood sacrifice as much as Mia herself, and that for her he was willing to face it. Armed with this knowledge he found it easy to be glad when the two began a relationship, even more so when it led to marriage, as in Nicholas he had found another person who would protect Mia to his final breath.
Joe smiled to himself as he watched Nicholas conversing with his daughter, their joined hands swinging as the four-year-old spoke animatedly while they walked. The little girl had brought boundless joy as well as unceasing chaos into the lives of her family. Her ringlets of chestnut brown hair and sweet but spirited nature were mirrors of her mother, but the eyes of deep blue that shone fierce and bright were the image of her grandmother's. A burst of laughter from her father broke into Joe's musings, and his smile broadened.
Joe was pleased with Nicholas.
So this seems to be turning into a series of one shots, and as it stands now I do intend keep adding to it. Sadly I'm not overburdened with free time, which probably means updates won't be regular or often. I don't have a beta, so sorry for any mistakes!