An: Hello everyone! This is nymphik13. I know I should be updating Silver Thread but sadly I could not do so because of my mother. This story has been in my head for a long time and I was hesitant if I should post this on December this year or now. I posted it now to reassure you all that I am still alive and would continue Silver Thread, but you all would have to wait. Thank you so much for all the love and support!

I know this story may sound cliché but just read it...

For now, Enjoy my second oneshot...

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"Lelouch, why is snow white?"

I asked my young companion. He looked at me with those purple orbs of his as if I was confused. His eyes; they always had so much depth, so much sobriety that one wouldn't expect to see in a boy's eyes. But he was not just any boy I knew. He was different from the others I've met, and I've met thousands. He was defying his father, betraying his countrymen, and stirring a rebellion against his 'Alma Matter'. What a peculiar boy he is. Sometimes he seems too smart for his own good, but amidst his good looks, his burning desire to destroy his country, his strategic mind and perfections, he was still a mere boy after all. I stared back, my face unreadable, serene and calm opposed to his. Those smoky patches of black beneath his eyelids made him look haggard and it was the validation of all his hardships just to get here.

With a war going on, I knew that such a question from me would seem irrelevant and ludicrous at such a vital moment. I knew I might be puzzling him, and he's a puzzle as well. Yet, I needed to know his answer. I wanted to know.

He had returned the favour; he had called my name once again. It had been such a long time since I was last called that name, a long time since I have been human. It seemed funny that he had called my name like a parent naming his child for the first time, but most surprisingly I had done the same for him. Not so long ago, I had called his name.

Do you remember Lelouch? It was not that long ago. Do you remember my question; do you remember the things I've told you? It's finally time Lelouch, you've grown up, it's time for you to answer my question. I need to know, I want to hear your answer...

Once upon a December Snow...

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(C.C.'s perspective)

December 5, 1999

I was flying, probably barely. I walked past through the corridors of my obscure mind, finding each door empty and myself trapped in a long and winding maze. It was a maze which was so familiar to me, yet its way out was concealed. I was lost and I felt a hot substance rolling down the sides of my cheeks, I found it peculiar and my eyesight blurry. Then I began to wail a sob, I was crying. And I didn't know why, I was confused why such emotions came just about when I know that this was all just an illusion. I felt myself falling into a black pit of delusion; I saw flashes of light, moving pieces of clips that showed me my own memories, each giving me an emotion of nostalgia, regret and hatefulness. I felt myself intoxicated by their presence all around me. Driving and spinning through me, as if dancing with the fast beat of my heart. I was falling faster and the bright light above me was eaten by the raven claws that I was being led to. Then I woke...

I gasped for air as sweat rolled down the angles of my face. My wavering eyes trailed the corners of my lavishly decorated room; the dim light illuminating; casting vague shadows of incomprehensible shapes of black.

I brought my knees up closer to me and laid my chin upon them. I closed my eyes and listened to the fast beating of my heart as it slowly ceased to stop. Funny, why can't my heart just stop beating for good? I could feel the heavy weight of my fur blankets envelope me with its warmth, yet I was still cold.

It was time for the season of snow, but those pieces of white sky have not fallen generously. Yes, it must be the reason why I'm cold. It's better to feel cold than to feel yourself burning on a stake, is it not? Probably, I am cold because I am dead. Each time it snows it reminds me of myself. I've forgotten what it was like to be warm for heat is produced by all living organisms. I am not human, I am a cold living creature that never ceases to vanish; constant, never changing, never dying, and eternally cold. But it's better to turn to ice than get burned, right?

"Aaaaaaah!" I was awoken from my daze as the sable outlines of my room became clearer for my lazy vision. The scream of an ever familiar woman is what I heard. I slowly shifted in my bed, my silk night gown slid down the sides of my body as I prepared to dismount my overly sized bed. I felt the tips of my toes trail across the newly polish wooden floors of this half-empty room. I smiled as my feet found the comfort of my cozy white bunny slippers.

Standing up, I grabbed my velvet black robe off the bronze hanger beside my dresser and tied its cord around my slender waist in a single knot. I felt my emerald hair clung at my neck as it settled underneath the layers of my clothing. I hastily tucked my fingers behind my neck and sent my evergreen hair flying in mid-air and it daintily landed on my back. I then set off to a run to witness this important scene; not only for Marianne but also for Britannia.

I ran along those empty wide corridors. So full yet so empty, so abundant but lacking, lavishly decorated but bare; just like my life; so long yet so insignificant. Maybe that's a lie. I've caused many wars and ruined people's lives, for I am a living curse. I've live for so long yet not once can I remember being innocent, being pure, being happy and so I am who I am. I've been living for the present, haunted by my past and with no future. My life is empty, lacking, bare and insignificant.

I arrived at my destination, I saw the orange hazy light illuminating from a half-opened door. I could hear whispers. They were the whispers of the midwives comforting Marianne with the agony and pain she was currently feeling. I was too old, seen too many situations such as this, and knew it was futile. Giving life is not easy, so is living it, so is dying.

I push the door open.

"C.C.!" Marianne screamed as she gazed at me with those eyes of hers. She was confused yet I could tell that she was expecting my being here. The midwives looked at me, their features wrinkly, yet they were so much younger than me. They could not understand why I was there and so did I. You'd think that after centuries of living I'd be sensible, but there was nothing to be cautious about, and so I developed a nasty habit of not thinking before doing things. My life is as boring as it is, getting into trouble is fun.

I said nothing and proceeded to stay at a corner and observed.

I watch them going about on their business, clearly Marianne was not faring well. She was struggling, she's been in labour for some time now and I worried not only for her life but for the life that she was carrying.

I approached Marianne's bed closer and I knelt beside it. I did not say a thing for I knew how meaningless they seem. I took one of Marianne's sweaty palms and felt the pang of her nails cutting through the flesh of the back of my hand. It was painful but I did not flinched, for I've dealt with worst pains before.

I stayed in my place for what seems like eternity, but I knew what eternity was and forever takes so long that it never ends. I've watch over her; I've seen her quiver, I've seen her shake and her queenly stature defeated by such a small enemy. I've heard her cries, her curses, and her pleas. I've felt her shake, sweat and her tears. I never knew what it was like to give birth, but I knew it was painful.

It was unlike me to get excited but I was. I've experience so many things, been in the same situations that nothing ever seems new. But I waited, I anticipated his arrival. For some reason I wanted to be here, I wanted to see him, I wanted to welcome him into this world. I wanted to see Marianne's boy and Charles'...

Charles, would your son be like you?

Finally I heard it...

"Uwaaaah!" I heard his voice, I heard his cry.

"It's a boy!" I see his bloodied hands flying in mid air as if trying to catch something invisible, something unattainable. I smiled and let out a heavy sigh. I gaze at Marianne; she had done a good job. I saw her smile in satisfaction and she let herself slip into a deep slumber, for she deserved it. Why can't I do the same, why can't I just rest after all the pains I've been through?

I slowly stood up. The little prince was so stubborn; with such a commanding cry. He troubled five women with those cries. The old midwives tried to silence him, but he could not be made to obey, such a hard-headed boy he is.

I approached them closer, his eyes; they were red from all his squinting and crying. He was finally clean and I could not help but ask...

"May I have him?" I asked them and I knew they were doubtful. I was a sixteen year old girl in their eyes; they thought I had no experience. Yes, probably I never did. Yet I wanted to see him, I wanted to know him. They reluctantly handed me their prince.

I felt uneasy as they handed him to me. He was so delicate, so small, so frail, and so young. I envied him. I envied him for he won't stay young forever. He'll grow old, and die. But as I held him in my arms I could not help but feel something. I didn't know what it was. Then the young prince slowly stopped his crying.

After the midwives finished their duties, they left Marianne, the little prince, and I alone in the room.

I seated myself in one of the red-cushioned gold plated stools, and I eyed the small bundle that I carried in my arms. I was surprised to find him staring at me. I smiled. Such a curious boy you are little prince. I chuckled as I mentally slapped myself, new born babies can't see yet; all they see is pitch black.

His eyes; they were always the ones that caught my attention. They never held innocence nor did they held peacefulness. They were intense, analytical, and determined. They were the kind of eyes that whenever you look into them you feel as if they pierced your soul, as if they can see past through you; see your weaknesses, imperfections, and secrets. They reminded me of someone's eyes; it was the very same purple orbs of Charles'. I smiled...

"You have your father's eyes." I told him and I was surprised, for he had reacted. He gazed at me, his features staring at me with a frown. I almost laughed; I hope he does not get wrinkles from too much frowning and squinting. What can you see in me? Is someone there? Do I have a soul? Who am I? I had to remind myself again that new-born babies could not see yet.

But his face; he had his mother's. It was gentle and handsome. Yet his mother was also strong, vicious and fierce especially when it comes to battles. You would grow up and break many hearts for you may look like an angel but looks can be deceiving are they not?

I heard Marianne stir in her bed, as if on signal I stood up and approached her.

"He has your looks." I remarked as I handed Marianne's child to her. She smiled at me and gratefully took her baby into her arms. I envied the little rascal, he has a mother. I never knew mine or if I was born out of love. I mentally slapped myself again, I was thinking nonsense.

I watch them, they shared something I'll never have with anyone, but for some kind of an insane gut feeling I was unsure. Was it love that they share, or something else?

"What are you going to name him?" I asked to distract myself from my thoughts.

"I don't know he's Charles' son. Charles should name him." Marianne said. I frowned. I live most of my young life surrounded by men, shunned by them and my worst memories were shared with them. No, scratch that, my worst memory was shared with a woman, whom I viewed as my mother. None-the-less I was a feminist.

"You did all the work." I reminded her.

Marianne smiled at me.

"I guess your right at that. Should it be Charles? Charles II?" Marianne asked peering at me. Just then, the little prince started crying. I also frowned. I did not like it all. For some reason I noticed that this young prince did not like to be associated with his father.

"C.C., do you think he's hungry?" Marianne said with quizzical eyes. Normally I'd say 'he's your son, that's your problem' yet I felt obligated to answer.

"No, Marianne. He hates the name, and I agree." I told her bluntly.

"What should I do?"

"Pick a different name." I told her.

"What?" she asked me yet again.

"He is born on the twelfth month; the twelfth letter is 'L'. Today is December five. That is twelve minus five, the answer is seven. He should have a name that starts with an 'L' and has seven letters." I told her seriously.

"That's silly C.C., I know no such name." She told me.

"Harry, Richard, Louis, Alfred...?" Marianne started ranting, but the baby kept on crying.

I smiled at amusement. This little prince could simply control his mother with his cries, what more will he do when he can finally speak his mind?

I tried to remember all the names I knew and encountered in my long life. I knew there was this name that was suited for him. It was not so common, not so significant, but it was him. In my heart I knew it was for him. Well, did I have a heart?

"...Leo, Joseph, Christopher, Marcus..." Marianne kept on asking but the boy's cries became more vicious.

"Boys don't cry, do they, Lelouch?" I told him. Marianne gazed at me; she appeared disbelievingly. But we were more astonished when the prince's cries turned into sobbing, finally to sniffing and then it was over.

"Lelouch?" Marianne asked me with uncertainty and doubt. I nodded my head and reassured her that we finally named him.

"Hello, Lelouch." Marianne said smiling down at her child.

I looked away. For some reason I think I have played an important part in this child's life. He was too young to see but he could hear. I hope he hears the beating of my heart. Was it joy? Did I have a heart? Probably, but my heart has stopped beating long ago but for some reason, I'd still like to believe it'll beat again. No, it's better this way; it's better to not know that it beats only to find out it will one day cease.

I gaze at the crystal doors of the room that led to the balcony. A speck of white daintily fluttered in the air and caught my eye. Could it be? Was it snowing?

I hastily approached Marianne's bed and sat on its edge as if excited.

"Can I borrow your son, even for a while? Even for just this lifetime?" I asked her.

"If you promised me you'll take care of him." She asked me. I nodded. It was my promise to her.

"I've been with him on the day of his birth. I promise you Marianne I'll also be there to see him off to another world." My life was boring. Yet I intend to keep that promise. I will be there on the day he dies. I'll be envying him and wish that I could take his place. Lucky bastard, you get to die.

Marianne handed me her child and I held him close. I looked down upon him and he seemed to be trying to reach out to me. But he could not see me, could not touch me, even if we were so close; so close to one another we will never collide. Maybe, it will only be in this moment that we will share something.

"Come Lelouch. It's your first snow." I told him as I pulled open the crystal doors and stepped out into the balcony. I gaze up above. They were like fallen angels so white, so pure but were rejected in heaven and in turn they grew cold. I looked down on Lelouch he was attentive. I smiled as a snowflake landed on his nose.

I raised my fingers and slowly brush it off him. I then turned to ask.

"Why is snow white, Lelouch?" I asked him. This time he yawned at me and his purple orbs became watery as they slowly fell into a close. No matter how much of a genius he was, he was still a mere boy after all. He should treasure it. He should treasure his purity and innocence while it has not been tainted by this world of kaleidoscope colors.

"It's okay Lelouch you don't have to answer now. But you will won't you? You will answer me. Your answer should be true, be pure, and be you." I told him as he fell asleep in my arms. I'll also tell you my answer when you grow up.

I wanted to tell you that it's okay to lose that purity that innocence for its enough to know you were once so. One day, you'll discover that life is meant to be short. So while you have it, live it. I cannot do the same, so I hope you will. I've forgotten what that was like and I hope you'll remember me...

Once upon a December snow, I hope you remember me...

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So many memories and I know he has forgotten now. Only I remember but its okay. He was too young then, and now he was too old to care.

I heard running, someone's nearing us. Lelouch quickly placed his mask back on.

"Zero..." It was that red headed girl.

I looked away. I expect you to ignore me. After all, my question was senseless, why would it matter to you though. I've tried to forget for remembering brings only pain and it's better to be cold to not feel anything. It's better if you grant my wish so I could die, so I won't have to envy you anymore. So I can't destroy more lives. So I don't have to look you in the eye and hear that you regret meeting me. You're that important for we shared something I never was able to do with anyone before. I don't know what it was but we did. It is better if I forget for it won't matter in the end. Warmth is not for me for snow melts when lapsed with heat.

"C.C.," you called me. I looked at you, anticipating a command.

"I don't know why snow is white, but I think it's beautiful." You told me instead. I smiled.

It was pure, it was innocent.

You are now impure Lelouch. But never forget you were once pure. There's still a hint of innocence left in you, for you are just a mere boy. This world robbed your innocence too early and filled your heart with vengeance, but you are still a mere boy and still alive with a burning desire to live. No, you have not forgotten that you are human, and you still have so much to learn, and so much to discover. Please, hold on to that innocence a little longer, for it is what makes you human. Don't turn into snow; don't forget what makes you human...

I hope you won't feel the way I feel, at least not now.

But...

Yes, snow is beautiful too, is it not?

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AN: It was fun to write this. I wanted to test myself with descriptions for I knew I suck at them and play with emotions. I hope I did it right. I wanted to elaborate more but I also want you to play with your imagination.

Got the inspiration when I wondered what the name Lelouch meant and everything just fell to place.

BTW: Can anyone give me Code Geass fic that has good battle scenes. Not battles scenes with mecha just hand combat. Thanks I need it for silver thread.

So how was it? Please Review! I hope C.C. did not seem OOC.