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If only…
Saul opened his eyes, and so did his realization.
The king in the receiving room sat among the people devouring every bit of the food served on the table. Multiple oil lamps lit the room dark from the night as the shadows wavered and flickered in its soft, golden glow. King Saul narrowed his gaze, caring less of what chatter that went around him. Something didn't feel right, and the thought itched him.
He lifted his goblet and slipped the wine down his throat. His throat burned from the sour touches scraping its sides, but the sweeps of sweetness dotted his tongue. Although the wine filled him, it didn't engulf his satisfaction. The feeling intensified.
He jerked out a lamb's leg to soothe the feeling. Saul attempted to distract his mind by chomping away the leg he shoved in his mouth. He tore through the meat like a ravenous wolf and grinded his teeth on the bone. The conversations grew silent around him, probably from the way he devoured the leg in seconds. But he didn't care, the meat didn't satisfy him anyways. He tossed the bone while his eyes left a vacant stare in one direction he couldn't take his gaze off. The empty chair in front of him.
His hands fidgeted, and his breaths became heavy. He couldn't shake off the feeling when locking his eyes on the empty seat he anticipated since the first day of the New Moon feast. He knew from the start the room felt empty or rather unnerving.
A grumble rippled out, sliding through his teeth gritting. He clenched his fists and trailed his glower over to his son, Jonathan, facing down at the tray containing the meat as if to avoid his father's stare. Of course, Saul wouldn't allow it, for suspicion had crawled beneath his skin.
He leaned over to make sure his son could see the scorn in his eyes. "So, Jonathan, how's the meal?"
His son shot his head upward like a gazelle meeting its fate. "O-oh, the meal?"
"Why, are you deaf? Has Adonai taken your ears?" He grunted under his breath. "Yes, Jonathan, how is it?"
He waited for the prince to answer who sat there finding what to say. "Oh yes, the meal, uh-" Jonathan paused for a moment to scramble through the thoughts reeling in his head, at least what Saul thinks him to be doing from the look on his face. "I-it's very palatable, uh--succulent." He cringed from seeing he had nothing in his hands before thrusting into the tray of meat to rip out a leg to nimble. "Tasty." He gave a short lick on the skin.
Saul simply sat there unimpressed from whatever his son tried to hide. "Well, it looks to be that you're not eating." He pinned his eyes upon his son shrouding in his chair. "Perhaps something is bothering you. Something you would want to tell your loving and caring father." He faked a gentle, soothing whisper when nearing closer. "What's wrong, my son?"
He wanted to play a game with his son to see if he would spill the secrets he had been hiding. "There's nothing wrong, Father." Jonathan let out a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm really not that hungry." He stretched a crooked smile; a smile noting the lies behind his mouth.
"Oh." He glanced away and raised his brows as if to not care. He cut a slab of lamb to eat as he spoke to further challenge his son. "Very well, perhaps you should hand the leg of meat you tore off to the next person on your right if you're not hungry."
"I--well, I would but-" Jonathan turned to the empty seat with his hands trembling. "The seat next to me is empty, Father."
Saul lifted his head from the meat he held and stared ahead at the seat his son quavered from, face flushed and eyes widened. "Huh, how strange." He brushed his beard and raised a brow. "Remind me again, who sits there?"
He waited for his son's silence as he sat there stumbling on the words he stammered. "He… um… the seat--the-" and at that moment, Jonathan stiffened from his agitation and sat staring at his father without speaking another word. It stood obvious his son had lost the game, and the fun for Saul was over.
His stare darkened once he placed the meat on the table. "He didn't come to the feast yesterday nor today, hasn't he?" He refused to wait for an answer when a rage boiled within and fury struck him like a sword into one's stomach. He slammed his fists on the table and roared. "Where is David?" Everyone at the table silenced themselves quicker than the blink of an eye. Saul ignored their stares when rearing up before Jonathan, throwing himself back in the chair.
His son heaved in terror until he gathered the courage to speak. "David," Jonathan escaped the breath he held. He narrowed his gaze and sat upright. "Yes David, you hear his name, he left to celebrate with his family for his brother had commanded him to do so. Didn't you notice? He left just to spend time with his family and to celebrate the beginning of a new month. What did you expect from him, Father?"
"I expected him to be seated among us!" This time, he screamed at the top of his lungs. He couldn't believe what his son had done. "You let him go, you stubborn son of a hag who rebels!" Insults fired out of his mouth, and every one of them burned right through his son, reddening and trembling in his disbelief. "How shall you rule with a rogue loose on the run to become a tyrant over our house?"
"Father-"
He didn't wait for him to speak and continued with his retorts. Of course, why shouldn't he in a situation like this? How such a fool like his son would dare to let a rival, a possible murderer, pace around in his shadows plotting ways to dethrone him and take the crown as his own. David won the hearts of many who used to intact the favor to him, as Saul should deserve, but wavered in the flaring glow David shone over his house. Even worse, his ears reached to the truth of his anointing as future king by Samuel, the seer, who allowed the dripping of the precious oil splatter upon the head Saul once felt in his brighter beginnings before chaos. If only--as Saul contemplated--if only…
"If only you held back your covenants… if only you glimpsed at him and thought of nothing… if only the darkness would halt its course… if only you understood your place in this kingdom and at least show a bit of care for the blood of your family-" Saul snarled. "The son of Jesse would be in my hands by now, and I would be out of my torment, wouldn't I?"
"I am loyal to you, as your son." Jonathan huffed at last through his torrent of shouts. "But David-"
"What? Bring more shame upon your mother who bore you? From the womb have you sought vanity and all worthlessness of life? Truly, as long as the son of Jesse breathes on this earth, the crown upon your head will crumble, and so will your kingdom!" By now, everyone had turned silent to the commotion he stirred all because of his son's foolishness. Eyes stuck on him, but he couldn't care. He laid no eye onto any other, but on his son who faced him back with his jaw left hanging. The spear leaning against his seat inched closer whenever a shout burst through his lips, rattling his surroundings from the thunder he released. Not long did the shaft tapped his knuckles and tumbled onto his lap as if to be the only thing in this room agreeing with everything he hissed and sputtered about.
"Do not not delay!" Saul's hands curled around the shaft like claws, by instinct. "Bring him to me without a sparing, for he will die!"
"Why should he die? What has he done?" Jonathan rose to meet his father's height when the questions flew out of his mouth in his disarray of emotion. His fists whitened by his clutch on the table, and he gritted the same grit Saul stretched in his red-beaten face by the rage boiling to its peak.
"Argh!" That's it. The flame broke loose and exploded as he threw his arms upward. He swung the spear till the end reached the ceiling and launched it right at his target, right at Jonathan.
The spear sped without a sound and hurried to the prince flinging himself to the side before it could penetrate him. The earth stood breathless once the spear missed, pierced the wall, rattled, and then, silence…
Not a sound sifted the air, only the heavy breaths of his rage seethed in his quiet heaving. Saul, bare from emotion except fury, clenched his heart hard enough he didn't care if his shameful son had died by the slash of the passing spear. Everything felt hollow, and a distance formed about him, a cold one. The world held its breath, and it escaped when his eyes followed the movement of his son arising to his feet. Saul stood his ground.
Jonathan stared at the spear for a moment before revealing his face flushed and his eyes swollen with angry tears. He bared his teeth and pinned a glare at his father. Saul made no comment and copied his eyes, pricking him back with a glower to remember.
There, they stood, facing one another, in a dead silence, acknowledging each other's agony, a painful fury, even as father and son, they both shared it. Then with a single pat on the stone floor, Jonathan had stormed out not a moment later, leaving the feast without permission. His thudding and grieving echoed into his ears while reluctant chatter rose among the guests after such a stir.
Saul simply sat back down. He didn't want to think or relive the incident again, breaking down each image in his mind. Killing his own son as if he was David himself thrust the shadow in midst of his torment. He just wanted his son to understand…
Saul closed his eyes to hide the world in his darkness.
If only...