Chapter: Yellow
Rating: K in this chapter.
A/N: How I managed to write fluff featuring Jon and Zahir I may never know, but it exists.
When Zahir entered the practice field, he was surprised to see his knight-master lying on the ground, face tipped up toward the sky. He approached warily, half-afraid he would find Jon bleeding and lifeless, assassinated by some enemy of the Crown.
His fears were allayed, however, when Jon opened his eyes, blinking up at the concerned face hovering above him. "You're blocking the light," he said.
"Are you actually basking? I thought only Tkaa did that, and he's almost a lizard, so he has an excuse."
Jon wrinkled his nose at his squire, lifting a lazy hand and pushing him back. "I have been stuck inside the palace all winter hunched over my paperwork. Allow me some relaxation. Besides, consider it a lesson. An essential part of being a knight is learning when to loosen up and enjoy yourself. Soak in the wonders of the natural world, commune with Mithros, and so on and so forth." He accompanied this so-called lecture with grandiose gestures, and Zahir couldn't help but laugh as he folded his legs and sat in the dirt beside his king.
"So are we sparring today?"
"Don't be silly."