Whoa, cra ck to the extreme. I blame listening to Ouran insert music. I have no idea where I pulled this out of.

Really, there's not much else to say.

WARNING: POST SERIES!!! Except it's actually not really that post series. Well, it was intended to be kind of like an interpretation of 'life after de ath with Charles and Marianne' with Lelouch added to the 'mix' after Zero Requiem.

As I stated before, the characters are rather Out Of Character, especially Charles around the middle parts. This was intended to be Out Of Character anyway. How In Character can one get with Charles having relationship problems? He's only seen as an evil demon throughout the show with little explanation to his other characterizations. Anyway... I hope somebody out there enjoys it nonetheless.

Song: 'Menuet of Innocence for Chamber Orchestra' by Hirano Yoshihisa



The Woes of Charles di Britannia

"Charles, dearest," Marianne pondered aloud as she took a dainty sip from her teacup, "How do you suppose this day has been thus far?"

"A nonsensical question, Marianne. This day has been just as dreary as the previous." Charles responded, tone seemingly bored as he leaned only slightly stronger into his right elbow on their small, round tea table.

"Surely you don't mean that, Your Majesty," Marianne protested while still maintaining her cheerful demeanor, "This day's been quite the bright one, I'd say."

"Bright?" Charles questioned, choosing this as an adequate time to sip his own tea.

"Of course, you haven't noticed? The flowers are vibrant, the sunlight is superfluous, and I daresay the food is just a bit less bland." She concluded, patting her lips with a fanciful cloth handkerchief. Charles nondescriptly glanced across the room to come to the conclusion that, yes, perhaps this day was more 'bright' than the others.

"And why does this come to your attention, Marianne?" Charles asked, ever so slightly intrigued.

"It has not come to my attention at all, Your Majesty. I have simply stated a fact." Charles grunted at the witty response his wife had sent him and allowed the room to fall into a comfortable silence. They each nibbled at the wide, small-portioned variety of scones and crumpets—as provided to them along with their desired teas—delicately and properly, as the Imperial families were all vigorously taught to do.

"Charles, dearest," Marianne began once more, teacup held loosely by her curled pinkie finger, having been emptied of its contents, "How do you believe Nunnally is doing on her own? I never thought her to be the ruling type, but I suppose she's handling it well enough. Don't you agree?"

Charles finished the last sip of his tea before responding. "Since when did you care about your children, Marianne?" He asked, a flicker of humor seen in his eyes.

"I suppose you're right in saying that, but as a mother I am naturally concerned for my children. I at least have that right." She said, puffing out her chest and looking up far into the ceiling, her nose upturned to him. Charles merely scoffed and set his teacup down upon the decorative tablecloth.

"Do you still have a care for Lelouch, then?" Charles asked, the glint in his eyes not quite gone yet.

"Lelouch has forsaken his mother and father in a place such as this and I feel quite obligated to slap my hand upon his cheek. However," She returned to a normal stature and looked him straight in the eye, her signature smile upon her lips, "He reminds me so much of you, I can not help but wonder why it is I accept you when you are the influence of his very being, and are therefore all his insides in a more concentrated dose." She nodded her head in approval as Charles snorted in amusement.

"Really now? So he has done well and should receive my pride in return?" Charles asked, and Marianne pointed a finger at him.

"I said nothing of the sort, Charles. I merely think he is strong and good-natured, and a much softer, more sensitive you. It's your call as to whether that is pride-worthy or not." She shrugged quite un-lady-like, pulling an unexpected chuckle from her husband's throat.

"For the two months he forgot his sensitivity and ruled the world, I was quite proud of him, yes." Charles said, his tone nonchalant.

"Well, maybe you should tell him so!" Marianne exclaimed, her smile widening even further into a bit more than just a snarky grin. "I heard that he was rounding our corner today to visit Euphemia."

"Oh, Marianne, whatever should I even say to the boy? He's refused to look me in the eye let alone speak with me over the past couple of months."

"Surely you can think of something!" Marianne said overdramatically, her arms flailing out wide in exasperation. "You could always go to Euphemia's and 'happen' to be there when he drops by. 'Oh, fancy seeing you here, my son.'" She imitated his deep throaty voice weakly. "That's how you could do it. Or you could take the less cowardly way and simply go to meet him yourself."

"What am I doing worrying over something so trivial?" Charles asked no one in particular, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Seriously, you're just like a hormonal teenager. You can't even keep your family relationships stable. And to think you were once the Emperor of Britannia! Hmph!" Marianne mocked, waving her hands about in dramatic gestures.

"Now's not the time, Marianne." Charles growled.

"Ooh, a touchy hormonal teenager indeed. I believe I'll leave you to cleaning up then, I promised Clovis I'd be over by one o' clock." The clock chose then to strike twelve-thirty. "Oh my, I'd better get going!" She said, tone hurried and bumped up half an octave as she fluttered across the wooden flooring to the front door. Marianne managed to also fluidly grasp her coat and hat on the way to their foyer and opened the door before Charles could get over the initial confusion. "Good bye, dearest! I'll be back by four o' clock!" She yelled, yet she still managed to keep her voice reserved and witty.

"Wait, Marianne!" Charles yelled after her, but she'd already closed the door noisily enough for him to hear, and he sunk back into his chair, defeated. "That woman will be the absolute de ath of me." He groaned into his palms, and waited a few moments before finally deciding to begin the stalling stages of his procrastination and clean the tea set tediously and thoroughly.


Charles cleared his throat at least four times before gaining the courage to knock upon Lelouch's front door. He could nearly feel the unwelcoming aura he was expecting already. He knocked twice, thrice, before he deemed it unnecessary to continue.

He also almost convinced himself that after three consecutive knocks and no immediate response that it was logical for him to assume that his son was not home, but his plans were foiled again when the door handle turned and the large white door pulled inward slowly and painfully. Charles used every ounce of his strength to not run away right then in there—who ever said the former Emperor of Britannia needed proper family relationship skills?

"Father?" He heard Lelouch question, and when he finally looked into his son's eyes for the first time in over two months, he was quite confused as to how he felt when he first saw his own icy stare mirrored in front of him. He immediately felt a sense of pride, and he nearly smiled, but held himself together as he stared as strongly back.

Their stare-off continued for much too long, Charles concluded. "So?" Lelouch had finally asked, and he was grateful for his son's interruption, for he nearly felt a fear that he might even lose against his own eyes.

He cleared his throat for the umpteenth time that day. "Lelouch." He began, not quite sure what to say.

"Yes...?" Lelouch asked, his eyebrow raising, annoyance evident in his eyes.

"Uh," He struggled even worse. Damn Marianne for putting him up to such a churlish battle! "I'm…proud of you, son." Lelouch had confusion written all over his face.

"Why?" Lelouch asked simply, the wonderment seeping strong through his tone, though slightly exasperated. The same tone his mother had previously used on him, Charles noted.

"Uh, see, you ruled the world with an iron fist even if only for a couple months, and from afar, that was… pretty cool." Charles said with a shrug, plain and simple, and it took Lelouch a few seconds to comprehend.

"Wait," Lelouch said, collecting his thoughts with his head in his hand for a moment as he spoke, "So you're basically proud of me for having destroyed the lives of millions of people?"

"Actually, it's more the fact that you did manage to destroy the lives of millions of people, in a time frame of about two months. That looked like a lot of fun. Was it?" Charles asked, a childlike tone appearing out of nowhere.

"No! Of course it wasn't fun, I hadn't a choice! You disgust me sometimes." Lelouch said, flabbergasted by the mindset of his mentally unstable father. Charles could tell that Lelouch was debating whether or not to slam the door in his face at the moment, so he decided against hugging him as Marianne had suggested earlier.

"Well, on a different note, your mother is quite pleased." Charles said, trying to break away from the awkward situation this was heading towards.

Lelouch snorted sarcastically. "Oh no, is she proud of my abilities as a demon as well?"

"No, no! She's proud of your strength." He responded quickly, trying to save the topic. "She thinks you stronger than I for having softer emotions and all that pointless stuff that I pushed away."

"So she's proud of my feminine qualities?" Lelouch asked, deflated of his previously excited mood for going to visit Euphemia that day.

"Yes. Well, no. Um…" Charles did try to save it, he really did. He scratched his head in a much unpolished manner.

"Why don't you leave?" Lelouch suggested, his eyes closed with obvious annoyance etched in his brow.

"I think I will, thanks." Charles muttered, and he turned straight for home as he heard Lelouch's door close louder than necessary.

"That went well." He told himself under his breath as he fast-walked back to his home, quite ashamed of himself. He looked down into the paved walkways the entire way home. Charles was not going to tell Marianne anything truthful about the chat he had just utterly destroyed.


~No longer than a week afterward…~

A knock on their grandiose door sent Marianne flying over the floorboards in the middle of tea time to answer its knocks.

"Oh, Lelouch! Would you like to join us for dinner?" Charles heard Marianne say loudly to alert him. 'No more avoiding this, now,' he assumed with a sigh. Lelouch rounded the final corner and met Charles face-to-face with…a smile?

"Hello, father." Lelouch exclaimed, smile bright as day.

"He-hello, son?" Charles replied, terribly confused. Marianne came up from behind and distracted Lelouch in Charles' favor, to allow him to calm himself, perhaps. She'd probably detected his reaction.

After Lelouch had left, Marianne leaned over the table inappropriately, her eyebrow raised. "Charles, what did you ever say to that boy to make him so charming toward you?" She asked, her tone desperate.

Charles shrugged. "Well, I went over and talked to him, we reached an understanding, and so on and so forth. No more issues between us at all." He claimed, but inside he was sweating buckets. Why was his son feigning such an obnoxious acceptance of him?

It wasn't until he found the piece of paper he'd thought Lelouch had purposefully dropped upon their floor so that it landed just behind the tablecloth that he began to understand. 'I still don't like you.' It read, in Lelouch's perfect cursive writing. He held back his internal unbound laughter and chortled outwardly at the childishness of the wording his son had left him on the scrap of yellowed parchment.

Perhaps he was proud of him, after all.


Charles di Britannia, Marianne vi Britannia, Lelouch vi Britannia, and all other characters/ concepts (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Everyone Else.