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Code Geass: Nunnally of Britannia
Chapter 1
22nd November 2009 a.t.b.
"Announcing Princess Nunnally vi Britannia, 87th in line to the Imperial throne!"
Courtiers stared and murmured as the little girl in her black and mauve mourning dress stepped through the great doors of the Imperial audience hall and walked doggedly up the long aisle, looking neither left nor right. It took her several minutes to pass the last of the assembled nobles and curtsy before Emperor Charles, who had sat with an expression of boredom throughout and only now deigned to acknowledge her presence.
"What is the meaning of this? I have no time to babysit a child; send in the next petitioner."
"Please, your Majesty!" the princess piped up, her high voice very small in the vast hall. "This is very important!"
"Very well. Speak, but be quick."
"Y-your Majesty, my mother and brother are dead, and nothing is being done to find or catch whoever killed them. No-one is even trying to find out what happened."
"Old news. What of it?"
Nunnally faltered at the Emperor's tone and the scattered tittering it provoked from some of the assembled nobles, but pressed on. "This cannot be right! I humbly beg you to in...intervene."
Charles' expression grew even more thunderous. "You presume to criticize my handling of this incident?"
"No!" she said quickly, flinching back. "I only thought you didn't know..."
"I am aware of everything that goes on in Pendragon. Nothing in this case warrants my intervention. The murders were committed by previously unknown anti-government terrorists who failed to strike more than a token blow."
"F-father... Didn't you care about Mother and Lelouch at all? Don't you care what happened to them?" Nunnally could barely believe what she was hearing, and felt tears pricking at her eyes in spite of her determination to be calm and grown-up.
"I have many matters requiring my attention. The fate of a minor consort and prince is of little importance. If you are too weak and sentimental to accept that, Nunnally, then you do not deserve to bear my name and lineage."
Too shocked to speak, Nunnally simply stared, then began to cry. She bit her lip in an attempt to stop it, but it was no good; her expression crumpled as the tears began to run down her cheeks.
"Pathetic," the Emperor grunted. "So be it. I strip you of your royal title and expel you from the Imperial Family. Henceforth Princess Nunnally vi Britannia no longer exists."
Nunnally's legs failed her and she sank insensible to the thick carpet. She had been left virtually alone and without comfort or explanation for days, bewildered by her mother and brother's deaths. None of her family had come to see her; even Empress Marianne's most devoted servants had seemingly disappeared and been replaced by strangers who would tell her nothing. When she tried to get to the guards in the bloodstained hall (however much the thought of entering that room again filled her with terror) to find out if they had caught the murderer yet, she had been dragged to her room and locked in, and no amount of crying, screaming, banging or pleading would get anyone to open the door.
Only after hours of useless fury had sent her into an exhausted sleep did she manage to think clearly enough to cajole and threaten the maids who brought her food into helping her dress properly and letting her out. Even then, she would not have been able to leave the Aries Palace grounds if a kind young sergeant of the guard had not ordered his men to let her pass and called for a car to take her to New Westminster to seek an audience with the Emperor. She had only met her father on a few brief and formal occasions before, but everyone always said what a great man he was. Surely he would not stand for any of his wives or sons being murdered and nothing being done about it, she had thought, naively as it turned out.
Though she would not fully understand it until years later, Nunnally's innocence was torn away, brutally and irrevocably, by her father's rejection. Life, she dimly realized, was not as it was in stories or even in the comforting lies people told about it. Parents did not automatically love their children or the other parents of those children. Symbols of justice and protection could be false. Evildoers could go unpunished because sometimes no-one cared. In that moment, the course of her life and the person she would become changed drastically. For the present, however, all she could do was sob and wail uncontrollably, heedless of the spectacle she made.
The Britannian Court watched the little ex-princess' vulgar display with a mixture of shock and amusement, like a group of schoolchildren witnessing an unpopular classmate break down after being humiliated by their teacher. Sniggers and whispers circled the great hall for a few minutes, then finally the Emperor waved his hand negligently.
"Remove her."
Guards stepped from the head of the aisle to carry out the order, but hesitated at a look from the imposing figure that advanced from the shadow of the throne. The whispering among the audience redoubled as they took in the odd sight of Lord Bismarck Waldstein, the highest-ranked knight in the Empire, stooping to pick up a crying little girl.
"Permit me, Your Majesty. I will see that her distress does not trouble the court further."
"You would take this responsibility upon yourself, Knight of One?"
"Aye, Your Majesty. As the daughter of a former Knight of the Round, I would see her dealt with gently."
The Emperor shrugged. "As you wish."
Waldstein lifted Nunnally in his arms as if she weighed nothing, placed a fold of his cloak around her and carried her down the hall, heedless of her tears soaking the shoulder of his uniform. Nobles who had stepped or leaned into the aisle to watch the floor show hurriedly got out of his way, and those on whom his one-eyed gaze fell swallowed, blanched, or looked aside. Silence gradually fell over the room, until the great doors boomed shut behind him and the Emperor called again for the next supplicant.
Nunnally came to her senses to find herself lying on a couch in an antechamber, still wrapped in Bismarck's cloak. He was kneeling at her side, brushing her hair out of her red, puffy eyes and dabbing at her face with a handkerchief. His hands were large and rough, not at all like her mother's or Lelouch's, but she didn't mind. It already seemed so long since the last time either of them had comforted her after she hurt herself or had a bad dream. And now they never would again...the thought made her want to cry again, but she was too exhausted for more than a few dry sobs and hiccups. Bismarck stroked her hair as she got it under control, then gave her the handkerchief so that she could blow her nose. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to do more than croak hoarsely.
"Here." He held up a steaming mug for her. Her stomach rumbled - she had eaten next to nothing in the last three days - and she sipped the hot chocolate without thinking. It was as delicious as it smelled.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she demanded when she could get her voice to work, wary of trusting anyone. She barely knew the Knight of One, and he worked directly for the Emperor. This could be part of some cruel joke to hurt her even more, like when her half-sister Carline asked politely to see her dolls and then broke them all and laughed.
"Should I need a reason to help a child in distress?" he asked, though without anger.
"No-one cares about me now," she sniffled. "Everyone laughed! They hated my mother, and they're glad she's dead, and Lelouch!"
"That is not true. I mourn their deaths as you do. Marianne was a very good friend of mine when she was a Knight of the Round, before she married the Emperor."
Nunnally bristled at the mention of her father. "He never loved her," she spat, "or any of us! I hate him! I wish he was-"
"Hush." Bismarck squeezed her shoulder. "Best not to say such a thing out loud."
"I don't care!"
"The Emperor is...a hard man, with a great deal on his mind and a great many people watching and listening to him. In his position, he cannot afford to be an ordinary husband and father. Now," he held up his hand to forestall her angry objection, "I know that is no comfort. But when you are older, perhaps it will help you understand, a little." Nunnally said nothing to this but drank more chocolate, wrapping her trembling hands around the mug for warmth and concentrating on the rich, sweet taste. At length, Bismarck said: "It was a very brave thing you did, coming to the Emperor by yourself. Your mother was just the same way."
She recalled the story of Marianne the Flash riding a horse into the palace to get the Emperor's attention, and looked down. "But I failed. Mother wouldn't have."
"Because she was an adult, and a knight, and you are a child. There are battles you can win, and battles you cannot, but that is not the same as failure. It was still brave of you, and Marianne would have been proud." The thought made Nunnally feel better, if only a little. Suddenly drowsy, she felt her eyelids begin to droop. Bismarck carefully took the mug from her and tucked his cloak around her again.
/**/
When she next awoke, she was in a hospital bed, bright sunshine falling on her through high windows. A familiar person, her pink-haired head nodding sleepily, sat in a chair nearby.
"Euphie?"
Her half-sister sat up. "Nunnally? You're awake!" Teary-eyed, Euphie nearly threw herself onto the bed and hugged Nunnally tightly. "I'm so sorry...I wanted to come and see you before, but my mother wouldn't let me."
"It's all right..." She returned the hug, a little hesitantly.
"Cornelia's been working really hard to find out what happened! She was so angry...she admired Lady Marianne so much."
"Really?"
"Really! She had a terrible fight with Mother when she heard what happened to you...she nearly went and confronted the Emperor too."
It was just as well Cornelia hadn't, Nunnally thought; the same thing might have happened to her, or worse. "I guess we aren't sisters any more, huh..." she said, a lump in her throat.
"Don't say that! We'll always be sisters!" Euphie squeezed her tighter, and Nunnally clung to her. She wondered what would happen to her now, and if she would ever see Euphie again. Would she be sent away to an orphanage or become a servant like a castaway princess in a story? (Of course, in stories everything always ended well with the princess happy again, she thought bitterly.)
"Where are we?" she asked, realizing she had no idea.
"In the Palace infirmary - Lord Bismarck brought you here and ordered them to look after you, then he guarded the door while you rested. He got really scary when some people tried to get in, the nurse said."
"Who?"
"Just some nobles and a couple of the other consorts, wanting to make fun of you." Euphie looked disgusted. "Why couldn't they just leave you alone? Lord Bismarck made them go away, though. He didn't even shout or anything, she said - he just spoke to them for a minute and they all went white and nearly ran off."
Nunnally felt obscurely pleased, but worried at the same time. Would the Emperor be angry with him for scaring people and letting her stay in the palace? "How long...?"
"Just a day. He sent a message this morning so I could be here when you woke up."
They continued talking quietly for a while, Euphie promising to find out what had happened to the people who helped her leave the Aries Palace and get Cornelia to make sure nothing bad happened to them. Eventually the door opened, and Nunnally heard voices in the corridor outside. Euphie jumped up and curtseyed as the Knight of One entered. "Lord Bismarck! Thank you so much for sending for me, and for everything you've done for Nunnally."
"You're welcome, Princess Euphemia. Might I speak with Nunnally in private?"
"Of course." Giving her sister's hand a last squeeze, Euphie hurried out and the door shut behind her.
Alone with the Knight of One again, Nunnally felt tongue-tied and shy. He was very tall, she thought as he sat down in the chair Euphie had vacated - as tall as Charles, though not as broad. His craggy face with its small beard was stern and unsmiling, and she could easily see how he could scare people, though in a totally different way to the Emperor.
"I...I don't know how to thank you, Lord Bismarck," she said nervously. "Euphie said you guarded me all night...you must be tired. I'm so sorry."
"It was nothing, Nunnally. I did only what was decent. And as I said yesterday, your mother was someone who I admired very much." He paused, and his expression softened just a little. "In another life...I might have been your father."
She was unsure what to say to that. It was strange to think of her mother with someone else, but nice to know that someone had cared about her, unlike the Emperor. What would her life have been like if Mother had married Lord Bismarck instead, she wondered? Would he have taught her and Lelouch to be knights like him? "I...would have liked that," she said impulsively.
He coughed. "Nunnally...the Emperor has given me permission to adopt you as my own daughter...if you wish it."
She stared up at him open-mouthed, feeling suddenly warm. "You...want to be my father?"
"Understand, I can never replace your mother. I have never had a family of my own, and I will be away a great deal...but I promise that I will do my best to keep you safe and give you a secure future. "
"Can I still see Euphie and Cornelia?" Nunnally asked.
"Certainly."
"What will happen to me if I don't...?"
"I will make sure you have a good home regardless."
That reassured her, and she smiled tentatively for the first time since her mother and Lelouch died. "Thank you..."
"You should think about it for a while before you make a decision. I will see that you are not disturbed in the meantime."
"I will," Nunnally promised.
/**/**/
Extract from a personal letter sent by Lady Wilhelmina Spencer to her sister Diana, dated 1st December 2009
Dear sister,
You will recall, of course, the entertainment provided to the Court last week when the surviving whelp of the late and unlamented Lady Marianne blubbered her way out of her inheritance. Now, it seems, the Knight of One has taken pity on her again and adopted her as his own out of some lingering fondness for the mother. The Emperor's personal knight is, of course, above reproach, but nonetheless rumours have been circulating that perhaps that guttersnipe of a woman was less than faithful to His Majesty (which would surprise no-one) and led Lord Bismarck astray. Many have been assiduously examining their diaries for the period nine months before the girl's birth.
In other news, the Emperor granted an audience to the Japanese Ambassador this afternoon, and was suitably forthright in his dismissal of the slant-eyed profiteers' continual self-serving adjustments to the price of Sakuradite. Reassurances were made on both sides, but the general mood is that war is inevitable before the end of next year, and about time too. Those shifty islanders deserve no less than conquest for their faithless, mercenary ways.
Prince Harold, I am told, scandalized all present at Princess Carline's fancy dress party when he arrived dressed as a Napoleonic French officer...
/**/
Pendragon Times front page article, 31st August 2015
AN EMPIRE MOURNS
Silence reigns across more than one-third of the globe today following the announcement of the death of 98th Emperor Charles zi Britannia. In a press conference late last night, Second Prince and Prime Minister Schneizel el Britannia revealed that the Emperor was shot dead by a lone assassin believed to be the same individual responsible for the murder of Empress Marianne vi Britannia and her son, Eleventh Prince Lelouch, six years ago (cont. p.2-5, full obituary p.94)
/**/
Military court transcript, Oakshield Base, Indochina Province (formerly Area 10), 2017-09-22, court martial of Warrant Officer (Provisional) Nunnally L. Waldstein. Charges: Insubordination, brawling, threatening a superior officer.
LT.J.G. DANIEL KAFFEE (DEFENDING): Warrant Officer Waldstein, please tell the court in your own words what happened on the evening of September 3rd.
W.O. N.L. WALDSTEIN (DEFENDANT): After checking the disposition of my squadron's Knightmares, I decided to take a walk around the camp perimeter before turning in. While passing one of the - according to the official map - unused barracks huts near the western side of the camp, I heard what sounded like a woman screaming from inside. I immediately made my way to the hut entrance and found it locked. However, there was a considerable amount of noise emanating from the inside which suggested that some sort of revelry was in progress. The scream was repeated several times, accompanied by laughter and cheering. I therefore knocked loudly on the door, which was opened after around thirty seconds.
DK: What did you see inside?
NLW: Inside were approximately twenty soldiers of the base garrison, ranked between private and lieutenant, in various stages of inebriation. Also present...also present were seven local women, mostly undressed and several showing symptoms of sedation, severe intoxication, or physical abuse. One woman, who had given the screams I heard earlier, was lying on the floor being restrained by four soldiers while a fifth attempted to have sexual intercourse with her. The soldier who had opened the door, who was obviously highly inebriated, recognized me as female, invited me to 'join the party', in his words, and attempted to lay hands on me. I fended him off and loudly demanded an explanation for what was happening.
DK: What explanation was given?
NLW: The ranking officer in the room - Lieutenant Rankin - ordered me to leave, stating that what was going on was 'none of my business'. I reminded him of the existence of severe penalties in Army regulations for rape and sexual coercion and stated that I would be informing Colonel Jessep of the incident. He appeared to find this amusing and repeated the order. I informed him that I could not in good conscience allow a possible sexual assault to continue, and asked that the women be released from the hut and given medical attention. At this the lieutenant became angry and made a number of threats.
DK: What was the nature of these threats?
NLW: He stated that he would see my career ended, and that if I did not leave immediately I would 'get some of what they got', referring to the women. Being outnumbered, I immediately drew my sidearm and discharged it twice into the air to attract attention. Lieutenant Rankin then ordered his men to seize and disarm me, which they attempted to do.
DK: Attempted?
NLW: The ensuing fight was ongoing when Lieutenant Rankin recognized my identity and ordered my assailants to stand down. The first response squad arrived moments afterward.
DK: When you informed Colonel Jessep of the evening's events, what was his response?
NLW: He informed me that the women kept in the unused hut were, in effect, camp followers present of their own free will.
(...)
DK: Did you authorize the sexual enslavement of women on your base, Colonel?
COLONEL NATHAN R. JESSEP: What do you want to hear, Lieutenant?
DK: I want the truth.
NRJ: You can't handle the truth! I uphold the glory of this Empire so that you can sit comfortably at home wringing your hands and cursing the men whose lives buy you that comfort. If a few damn yellow whores get roughed up a little so my men can do their jobs, or a wet-behind-the-ears little girl gets her precious sensibilities offended, I consider that a more than worthwhile price to pay! And if you have a problem with that, then you can go to hell.
DK: Did you authorize sexual enslavement on your base, Colonel?
NRJ: I did the job that-
DK: Did you authorize sexual enslavement?
NRJ: You're damn right I did!
DK: No further questions, Your Honour.
/**/
Leading article, Knightmares Teen Monthly, November 2018
BRITANNIA'S TOP YOUNG GUNS PUT THE HUNS ON THE RUN!
The five brilliant young pilots of Zero Squadron (first reported on in KTM in July of this year) are to be decorated later this month for their almost single-handed defence of Rangoon Port on October 17th-18th. Piloting their Vincent advanced pre-production prototype general-purpose Knightmare Frames (see pull-out this issue!), the heroic fivesome destroyed wave upon wave of EU Panzer Hummel Frames in a night-long battle that left the docks strewn with wreckage.
PICTURED L-R:
Lt. Anya Alstreim (15), callsign Iceman
Lt. Amelia Cyrus (16), callsign Montana
Lt. Ephraim Troy (18), callsign Wildcat
Lt. Gino Weinberg (17), callsign Maverick
Lt. Nunnally Waldstein (15), callsign Nemo
Not content to rest on their laurels, Zero Squadron have since been transferred to the North Burma front to face the Indian Republic's would-be invasion force. Details of operations in this region remain classified, but KTM was able to secure an exclusive interview with the team to talk about their past exploits and life on the battle-lines. Of course, the question our readers most want answered is: has romance blossomed in the ranks amid the tropical heat? Have the charms of easygoing Gino and earnest Ephraim caused flutterings in the hearts of cute and stoic Anya, sweet and passionate Nunnally or bright and peppy Amelia? Sadly, the young heroes were silent on this subject, but our reporters claim to have detected some significant looks passing between (continued page 94)
ALSO IN THIS ISSUE:
-The lovely ladies of Valkyrie Squadron - as you've never seen them before!
-Captain Jeremiah Clarkson and Lieutenant James Hyneman test whether it really is possible to destroy a Chinese Federation Gun-Ru using only a golf club, a tent spike and a bottle of Theakston's Old Peculiar!
-The top ten most badass Knightmare weapons revealed, as voted for by you*!
*This publication does not endorse democracy as a valid means of decision-making outside the realm of humorous popularity contests. All hail Britannia.
/**/**/
29th May 2019
"Step forward and be recognized, Gino Weinberg, Anya Alstreim, Nunnally Waldstein!"
The three teenagers made an odd spectacle as they advanced up the aisle and bowed to Emperor Odysseus. Tall, blond and handsome, Gino would have fit the image of an aspiring knight well enough were it not for his carefree grin. Next to his lanky frame, the two younger girls looked comically small, especially Anya, who could pass for a rather mature and morose primary-schooler. Her bubblegum-pink hair and the odd midriff-baring cut of her new uniform only added to the incongruity. Even Nunnally, wiry and strong for her age and build thanks to years of training, hardly seemed to embody the Britannian warrior ideal. Many of those watching with long memories remarked - to themselves or surreptitiously to their neighbours - on the fact that the last time the former princess had been seen in this room, she had thrown a ridiculous childish temper tantrum and had to be carried out.
Before the advent of Knightmare combat drastically altered the physical demands placed on soldiers, it would have been ludicrous to contemplate raising such youngsters to high rank. In this brave new world, however, talent in that one all-important area was so valuable that not only were those who possessed it being recruited young, but true excellence could fast-track someone all the way into the Round.
Nunnally felt only pride to be announced by her adoptive father's name. She had been offered her royal status and surname back following Emperor Charles' death three years ago, but declined; she wanted nothing from that man, the memory of whom still stirred lingering fear and anger in her.
"Approach the Throne, Gino Weinberg."
Still smiling broadly as if without a care in the world, Gino climbed to the highest step below the dais, went down on one knee and recited the Knight's Oath in clear, ringing tones. Nunnally knew the words by heart, but they never failed to move her. The Imperial Creed, the code of knightly honour whose ancestry could be traced back to the near-mythical Emperor Arthur, was probably mere noise to the majority of the people in this room - high-sounding but empty rhetoric to impress the supposedly dull-witted masses. She knew Gino took it almost as seriously as she did, however - otherwise he would not have worked his way to where he now stood. Odysseus u Britannia's smiling face betrayed no hint of irony; perhaps he felt the same way in his un-confrontational fashion.
The ceremonial sword tapped Gino on each shoulder. "Arise, Sir Gino Weinberg, Knight of Three. Approach the Throne, Anya Alstreim." The newly-minted knight rose smoothly to his feet and descended the steps to thunderous applause, giving his comrade an encouraging pat on the shoulder before raising his hand and beaming at the crowd (one or two ladies were heard to swoon). Anya spoke the Oath without emotion, as always. The other girl remained something of an enigma to Nunnally, though she amply respected her skill in a Knightmare, enjoyed her company and was happy to tolerate her eccentricities. Said eccentricities included having Gino take her picture as she was being dubbed; Nunnally suppressed a snort of laughter as he held up Anya's bright pink camera-phone without a trace of embarrassment.
"Arise, Lady Anya Alstreim, Knight of Six." The camera clicked again as Anya stood. "Approach the Throne, Nunnally Waldstein."
Anya gave her an odd, searching look as they passed on the steps; it seemed almost as if she had tears in her eyes and even a slight smile on her face. Nunnally shrugged it off - the other girl had every right to show happiness at this moment, after all. Her father's face was impassive as he stood in his customary place behind the throne, but she smiled for him as well as the Emperor anyway, knowing how proud he was without needing to be told. She knelt gracefully and took a deep breath for the Oath.
"Nunnally Waldstein, dost thou wish to serve Britannia as a Knight of the Round?"
"Your Majesty, I do."
"Wilt thou swear to follow the ancient creed of the Round Table?"
"Your Majesty, I will."
"Then speak."
"I, Nunnally Lamperouge Waldstein, do solemnly swear to uphold the honour and traditions of the Knights of the Round, and to be ever the living embodiment of Britannia's ideals. To seek no battle that is not worthy, and to stand firm even in the face of a hundred foes. To speak no untruth, and to pierce all deception. To serve Crown and country without thought of base reward."
Nunnally wondered if any of the war profiteers and sweatshop owners in the audience felt the slightest twinge of shame as they listened to the Oath. Paying lip service to an ideal one held in contempt was very foolish, she mused. There was always the danger that others less cynical would take it seriously and hold one to it. That was a lesson she intended to teach the power brokers of Britannia.
"To make of defeat, victory. Of chaos, order. Of barbarism, civilization."
Odysseus carefully raised the ceremonial blade to point at her heart (or somewhere in the general vicinity, at least - he showed obvious discomfort at the gesture). "Wilt thou hold to this oath on pain of death, unto the ending of thy life?"
"Your Majesty, I will."
The ritual taps barely touched her shoulders, but they felt heavy as mountains nonetheless. "Then be invested with the rank of Knight of the Round. Be thou the Empire's sword and shield, guiding light and inspiration to all true Britannians. Arise, Lady Nunnally Waldstein, Knight of Seven."
The newest Knight of the Round rose to her feet and smiled serenely at the assembled aristocracy of Britannia. Most clapped vigorously - some with simple pleasure, or nationalistic pride, or enthusiasm for the martial spirit of youth. Others, eager to get back to the real business of government (namely, dividing the spoils of war and labour) applauded for appearance's sake, or with relief at the end of the slightly embarrassing puppet show.
TO BE CONTINUED
Notes: Gah. One of these days, maybe I'll post a Code Geass fic that doesn't have Nunnally crying her eyes out in the first chapter. At any rate, this particular premise (Lelouch dying in Marianne's assassination, Nunnally remaining in Britannia and being adopted by Bismarck) was inspired by a number of different things. I've had a crack-theory for a long time that Nunnally is not Charles' daughter, but Bismarck's, based on Bismarck's canon affection for Marianne and the fact that her Geass in the Nightmare of Nunnally manga is similar to his. Of course, it's clearly nonsense (Nunnally looks nothing like Bismarck but has Charles' hair colour, and V.V. looks quite a bit like her), which is why I went with the adoption plotline here, partly inspired by the crossover fic One And Only Son by Juubi-K. The title and other elements, including the writing style and the fictional documents, were influenced (as previously mentioned) by Cal Reflector's Lelouch of Britannia. Said fictional documents also feature a few shout-outs (of varying degrees of obscurity) to other works of fiction and real life things, people and events. If anyone manages to spot them all, there will be cake. ;-)