The Throne of Flame: Chapter Twenty Three
Maurice had been moved to a separate room (along with Kowalski, Private, and Rico) upon Julien's arrival so that they didn't have to see each other - Skipper was grateful for Classified's courtesy. They certainly didn't want to trigger another fit from Julien. He had bouts of crying many times on the way back, where he would silently stare to the trees and tears would leak from his eyes. It broke Skipper's heart.
Julien was so utterly betrayed by Maurice, and Skipper had known the feeling of being double-crossed. He guessed that what Julien was experiencing was far more staggering than anything he had, though, being that it had never been a lifelong partner to do such, especially to that extreme of devastation. Julien was horribly torn by it.
His leg was iced for a little while before the swelling went down some. He still couldn't quite walk on it, but a singular crutch solved that issue. He seemed to be familiar with that sort of injury, and aside from a few winces here or there, he wasn't particularly affected by the North Wind touching his wound.
Julien was anxious to leave the safe-house as soon as possible. It was subtle - his eyes sliding, in the most inconspicuous of manners, from door to door. His tail twitching on occasion, chewing at his lip when no one was looking. Having seen the way that Julien acted from situation to situation, Skipper soon caught on and urged the North Wind to hurry in applying the compression wrap. They were soon finished, and Julien almost immediately told Skipper that he wanted to go to his tree.
"One of our members will escort the two of you." Classified stopped them before they could leave, causing Julien to frown.
Skipper was mildly offended. "What, you don't trust me, Classified?"
The husky was only amused. "It's not that, pengwing. I trust that Julien is in capable hands - er, flippers - with you. It's only North Wind protocol to make sure we take every precaution."
"I volunteer." Eva raised her wing, her expression never changing.
"Good. See? Eva can fly overhead and keep an aerial view to make sure that no one attempts to give you a surprise attack." Classified explained.
"All right," Skipper grumbled, still insulted over Classified's mistrust in his capabilities. He let it go when Julien ran a hand down his side.
With that exchange concluded, Skipper Julien and Eva departed from the safe-house and into the humid, starry night. As Classified had said, Eva flew above and only followed. She was out of hearing range, though, which made Skipper feel more comfortable. Finally, some sort-of alone time with Julien!
As though his thoughts were congruent, Julien rested his hand against Skipper's wing, his smile gentle as he hobbled along. Skipper smiled back.
That was when he remembered - right before Julien had disappeared, what he'd discovered about the lemur from his men, the reasoning they thought was behind Maurice's plan. He was a communist! But the idea was so absurd when confronted with it. How could a king be a communist? How could Julien be a communist? He had spent so much of his time keeping up the front that he hated the lower classes.
And yet after this endeavor the facts only added up to point right to communism. Julien could even be considered radical. Skipper hadn't heard too much about the things he'd been implementing, but from what he had heard, there were most likely quite a few laws that defied tradition. He was no doubt a very different flavor of king, one the lemur kingdom had never seen before. Still, did that mean he was a communist? Skipper wanted to be sure.
Eying Julien curiously, he squeezed his hand. "Are you really… A commie?"
Immediately, Julien's hand was against his beak, his wide and his tail erect with fear. He looked around, panicked for a moment or so, before he turned back. "Shhhh! Skipper! You can not speak of this so loudly."
Pushing his fingers away, Skipper gasped. "You are, then!"
Julien nodded, sullen. It was clear to both of them that the veil had been lifted. He no longer had any reason to hide in front of Skipper.
"It must be kept on the downest of lows." Julien almost shushed him again, though reconsidered in favor of speaking. "This is why I am such a big target, you see? I am making changes to the lemur kingdom, and some are thinking that the economy will go down because of it. It won't - lemur morale will grow, as will our work ethic, and we will produce even more provisions to send over the seas."
"But… Then why do you always act so…" Skipper searched for a nice way to say it.
"Discriminating?" Julien questioned, unaffected. "My views are being too radical for the lemur culture. I have to make it subtle, ease them into my changings… Only a few have been catching on to what I am doing, and that is why they are so relenting-less. But by the time I am finished ruling, I wish to achieve the equality for my people. That way, no one will suffer because of the classism. That is why I can not die yet, you see?"
The penguin frowned, not liking that reason for staying alive. "That's the only thing you can think of to keep you alive?"
Julien sent him an absolute smirk. "Well, maybe there are one or two more reasons now than before… But we are all very small, Skipper. Just a fruits among trees. All I am trying to do is be the one to plant the seed, since no one else has been yet."
An odd metaphor, but Skipper accepted it with an awkward nod as they continued down their path. He took a moment to think before he spoke up again. "Why are you so against classism? You're at the top."
His object of affection looked at him as though he'd sprouted a second head. "...That doesn't mean I want everyone else to be suffering."
Skipper soaked in this information with great contemplation. Though what Julien said made sense, it wasn't easy for him to just change his own political views. It sounded like Utopian situation, but could it really work for the lemurs? There had to be a downside somewhere.
"What's the catch?" He muttered.
Julien frowned. "There is no moneys."
"No money!" Skipper exclaimed in disbelief.
Julien immediately hushed him once more, glancing around fervently, before he nodded. "None. It is what defines the classes - how much money you are having. We won't be needing it, everyone will already have everything that they are needing."
Skipper's brow furrowed as he thought over this. "So you're saying no one can buy anything? What about food?"
The king seemed slightly amused at this. "Equal distribution. The lemurs have never been using paper moneys for currency, Skipper. We always have used fruits. Now, fruits will simply become something we will eat, as they should be… As for the buying things. There will simply be a trade system. Exchange for what you want."
"And you honestly think this is going to work? Do you really think this would work around the world?" Skipper was skeptical at best.
"Don't be being ridiculous," Julien waved a paw. "A trade system would not be working on the international levels. We would need to use a grand exchange - a monitored system of shop where everyone could be selling and buying to the government, but the government is the only thing being allowed to do that. I do not expect anything like that to be happening soon. Not even in a hundred years from now."
Skipper grazed Julien's fingers with his wingtip and looked at him seriously. "Julien… This all sounds awfully idealistic to me. I don't know if it could ever really work."
Julien's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in, as though telling an even bigger secret. "I have seen how it is working in the civet territory. I know another leader, we shall not name him, but he is the fanaloka leader. He and I used to not get along so well - he has tried to kill me many times before, overthrow me, all that stuff - but eventually we became allies… And he is a genius."
Skipper was a tiny bit jealous, but only nodded, urging Julien to continue.
"He used to be hating upon other animals until he realized they needed unity to move forward, and so he brought the fanaloka to equality. There are no classes. Now they circulate provisions - they make the coffee beans - even better, because they all work in ways they want to, and nobody is suffering or dying." Julien elaborated, his voice still low enough that only Skipper could hear as they walked. "We used to talk, through a messenger pigeon, but we can not be doing this now since the pigeon has been killed… I am saying, though, that Ka- er, the fanaloka leader, is proving my views to be really working."
"But that's their society," Skipper countered. "It might not work for you, too."
Julien paused in his walking with a plaintive smile and rested a hand on Skipper's shoulder, before he pointed to the jungle plants surrounding them. "Do you see the trees, Skipper? They are strong, huge. All of them. My people are suffering. What we are doing right now - this government we have - it is not working. They die, Skipper. I am willing to take the chance to fix that so that someday, we too can be like these trees."
Skipper gazed at the massive trunks of wood on every side, the lush green leaves that hung low from each branch. He understood Julien's analogy - if the trees didn't experience the same amount of sunlight and water, some of them would grow to be enormous but some would never grow at all. Julien wanted his people to be just like the jungle they lived in - powerful in their strength of unity.
He was willing to take the chance of failure because even if he did fail, they wouldn't lose anything. The lemur culture was, from what Julien had told him, already bad enough. Julien must have believed it couldn't fall further, at least, not by means of attempted communism. And if he succeeded in creating his utopian paradise, well, there was that.
It was an odd way to look at things - as was the whole of the situation.
A week ago, he would have laughed in the face of anyone who so much insinuated that rude, snobby King Julien was secretly a communist that was the target of multiple assassins, one of which was Maurice. The notion was ridiculous, but it ended up being true - such was a common factor in Skipper's life.
He realized that before this, he'd never really been attracted to Julien. Sure, he noticed that the king was handsome, but he hadn't been captivated until the whole event. Was it the danger of the situation, or was it just that Julien suddenly found Skipper to be charming? He wasn't sure, but he decided not to dwell on how or why. He was content just to adore Julien, maybe even love him.
Communist or not.
But then there was what Maurice had said - like poison in a pond, it suddenly shot through Skipper's mind to pain him. He had said that Julien didn't love anyone, and he assumed that in the sense, it was synonymous with infatuation. The idea made Skipper uncomfortable. Clearly Maurice had known Julien for longer than the penguin had, and even though his actions had been hostile (or even just unwell), he knew Julien better than Skipper.
Was what he said the truth? Maurice hadn't seemed to have any intention of lying, not after his elaborate plan to murder Julien was revealed. And the way he'd said it - it was so automatic, something he definitely believed to a genuine effect. Suddenly, Skipper's paranoia kicked in, and he began to eye the man next to him, who seemed content to admire the scenery around them.
"Julien," Skipper suddenly piped up, uneasy. "I know you don't want to talk about Maurice, but he said something…"
Julien's expression immediately hardened into something that was almost agitated, but he didn't look at Skipper, instead keeping his eyes trained on the terrain before them. "Did he?"
Skipper avoided the physical cringe that wanted to surface at the stony coldness that Julien had taken, before he nodded slowly. "He said… That you don't love anyone."
At this, Julien's look darkened altogether and he looked downright wrathful, though kept his anger locked up tight. The emotion seeped out with his gritted words as he simply muttered, "I don't want to talk about that."
They continued to walk in silence, tense, before suddenly Julien turned to him. His sullen rage had dwindled into what looked closer to apologetic sympathy, and he offered a smile.
With his hand tensing around the penguin's flipper, he asked, "Do you trust me?"
Skipper stared back at him for a few moments, and his answer was honest. "Yes."
