Disclaimer: Do not own Code Geass or any of the respective characters, blah, blah, blah... just once I wish I could say that I did.
Pairings: C.C x Nunnally, implied C.C x Marianne.
A/N: My little experiment with Code Geass yuri, inspired by chapter 16 of Val-Creative's colour's in a life's spectrum.
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Ersatz
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"What do you expect me to do all day by myself confined to your room?"
"Amuse yourself."
She gave him a sulky look from where she was sprawled on his bed. C.C wore a white shirt; collar unbuttoned to show off the curves of her breasts, and that was all she (deliberately) had on. Much to her disappointment, Lelouch barely spared her a glance even though her shirt only reached mid-thigh. He wouldn't even blush. Even flashing her lacy underwear at him wouldn't get a reaction (and she did know. She'd already tried). Truth be told, she wasn't even really interested in him; he was, after all, a child compared to her, but at least it would make the passing hours more interesting.
The witch sighed, rolling over onto her stomach, bare feet waving idly in the air.
"Perhaps I could accompany you to school today," she suggested, toying with a lock of green hair.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Why not? You could tell them I was your cousin."
"No one would believe that. And what if Nunnally heard about you? I'd never be able to explain how a cousin of ours had found us in Japan when the entire family thinks we're dead."
Precious, precious Nunnally. She sneered. "So you'd rather I died of boredom in this place."
He fastened the last of the golden buttons on his uniform blazer, giving his appearance a careful examination in the mirror before he deigned to look at her. "You've been alive for hundreds of years and you're telling me you've never found ways to circumvent boredom? I'm disappointed, witch."
The sulky pout dug a deeper groove into her face. "You could find a girl's uniform in my size. Tell them I'm a new transfer student, and use the geass on your teacher to make him believe it."
"I'm not going to use my geass for you to go to school," he retorted flatly. "And I've already used the geass on him. It won't work again."
"Why do I always choose the selfish ones?" she muttered under her breath, rolling over to hug the Cheese-kun nestled against the pillows. Mao had been the same. Too jealous to even let others look at his C.C.
"C.C, you're not to leave this room until I get back. Do you understand?"
The witch flashed him a look of annoyance. Impudent brat. "Yes, my lord," she retorted sullenly.
The former prince only narrowed his eyes, picking up his satchel and giving her another searching look. "I mean it, witch. Not one foot. My plans and your contract will be ruined if people find out about you."
"Don't presume to lecture me, boy."
"Then don't give me cause to. And C.C–"
She rolled onto her back, head flopping to one side. She glared at him balefully. "What?"
"Don't frown like that. You'll get the most unsightly wrinkles on your forehead."
Cheese-kun hit the closed door with a dull smack, and the woman fumed as she heard Lelouch's chuckle echoing in the passageway.
An hour later and C.C was still sprawled on the bed, staring dully at the ceiling. Lelouch had had a point about circumventing boredom – she'd had three hundred years of practice, after all. It should be easy enough to entertain herself.
Unfortunately, he had left her little in the way of possibility.
Lelouch had all the qualities she needed to achieve her goals – he was a genius and had the ambition to conquer a world – but he was a surprisingly boring teenager. For 'entertainment' he kept a chess set in his room, and shelf upon shelf of books, the subjects of which ranged from politics and history to philosophy and poetry. He didn't even have any mildly titillating porn of the kind she would expect a teenage boy to keep in his room. Pathetic.
Four more hours dragged by, and C.C found herself sprawled on the floor, muddling her way through a history book, with a red pen in hand. Lelouch would have a fit if she interfered with his precious order and scribbled in his books, but she couldn't help correcting the facts. She had lived through these events, and the least he could do was appreciate a first-hand account of history, though she knew he wouldn't see it that way.
She reached the end of the book and set it aside. According to the clock, it was lunchtime, and time for the pizza that Lelouch had kindly left in the refrigerator (not that he'd had much of a choice, pizza was one of the few things capable of pacifying the witch). Cheese-kun tucked under one arm; C.C pushed the plate into the microwave and stared into it until it finished with a ping. She padded on bare feet to the bed carrying her prize and sat down cross-legged, balancing the plate on her knees.
"If Lelouch finds cheese on his sheets, it will serve him right for keeping me cooped in here day after day, won't it, Cheese-kun?"
The stuffed toy stared vacantly back at her, and C.C sighed. Phenomenal cosmic power and immortality at her fingertips and she was confined to an adolescent's room talking to a plush toy.
If V.V could see her now…
She carefully lifted a slice, opening her mouth to catch the drop of melted cheese. As the cheese plopped onto her outstretched tongue, a soft tapping sounded at the door. She stilled.
"Brother? Are you there?"
'Brother'. It must be Nunnally. Marianne's other child. C.C frowned, remembering that the door was locked.
Perhaps if it had been anyone else, C.C would have been tempted to play with them, but this little girl was Lelouch's treasure. It would be… very unpleasant for the both of them to have something sour their partnership this soon. She bit into the pizza slice, thinking that Nunnally would hear silence and simply leave. Then, she heard a ping as the door unlocked. The door opened, and the blind girl wheeled herself into the room, a brightly-wrapped package on her lap.
"I suppose Brother is still in class. I'll just leave this is where he'll find it later…"
Small, sure hands placed the parcel on the table that stood close to the wall. Nunnally moved confidently around the room, and C.C remembered Lelouch telling her that he always kept the furniture arrangement in the same way so that his sister would be able to navigate familiar spaces independently. She propped her chin on one hand, watching the girl.
The eyes… I wonder if she has her mother's eyes… or Charles's.
She shuddered. No. She would never want to look the girl in the eye if Charles was the one looking back at her.
Nunnally had a smile on her face. It was nothing like Marianne's; she noted absentmindedly, no hint of mischievousness or any mysterious promises for C.C. It was also a pretty little smile, very appealing if you were into the virginal maiden look.
The smile faltered suddenly and Nunnally's nose wrinkled delicately as she sniffed.
"Brother? Are you here?"
C.C gave the steaming pizza a long-suffering glance.
"W-Who's there?"
The girl's voice was taking on a panicked note, and the witch sighed.
"I am here," she replied, slinging her legs over the bed.
Nunnally's hands tightened in her lap, head tilted warily. "Who are you? Why are you in my brother's room?"
"I'm a friend of your brother's," she lied glibly, stepping closer to the girl, and she quickly added, "We were supposed to be studying together this afternoon but Lulu, that silly, silly, boy forgot something in the student council house and he went back to get it." She let the sentence end in one of those inane, high-pitched giggles that girls Lelouch's age were prone to utter. Inwardly, she winced.
"O-Oh."
"I thought," C.C continued smoothly, "that I would take the opportunity to have lunch here, and since Lelouch was kind enough to offer…"
"Will he – will my brother be back soon?"
"Assuredly." C.C sauntered closer, curiosity getting the better of her. "Ah, you must think I'm very rude, Nunnally."
"W-Why? And how do you know my–"
"Lelouch talks about you all the time. You're very important to him." –his entire world, in fact, C.C added silently to herself. "And I'm terribly rude for not introducing myself to you. I'm..." she paused. Lelouch would go berserk if his sister suddenly wanted to chat about his 'friend' C.C. "…Cecilia."
The girl seemed to relax slightly, but the witch's eyes noted the subtle tightening of her shoulders and her grip on the chair. "It's nice to meet you."
Likewise, my dear. The green-haired woman smiled. So. This was Marianne's daughter. C.C circled the girl, hips swaying, the shirt fluttering up to expose a hint of pink underwear. Nunnally, blind little dove, only felt the whispers of breeze that the woman left in her wake. She shivered.
"Um, Cecilia-san…"
C.C paused, hand hovering above the mass of brown curls down the girl's back. She would have liked to touch the soft white skin of her arm, to caress the round curve of her shoulder… unconsciously, her tongue flicked out against her bottom lip.
Who would have believed that Charles and Marianne would produce a creature so innocent and beguiling? Lelouch, calculating, ambitious and ruthless, was more his parent's child. Where, then, had this one sprung from?
Gods, this is too good an opportunity, she thought. Very well. She would do as Lelouch had suggested and amuse herself.
"Yes, my dear?"
She used the endearment carelessly, letting it drop from her tongue. It certainly wasn't the way any girl Lelouch's age would have spoken.
"Are you – are you my brother's girlfriend?" the girl asked in a rush, blushing fiercely.
C.C bit her lip to keep laughter from spilling out. Girlfriend? Lelouch was too concerned with his revenge and dominating the world to be concerned with the opposite sex, let alone sex at all. She could parade naked around the room; mash his face between her cleavage and all Lelouch would do was frown and tell her to make herself decent.
"No," she replied, not bothering to hide her amused tone. "Lelouch and I are… more like business partners than lovers."
"Oh," she turned her sightless eyes to her lap, still blushing. "I'm sorry for asking. It's not really any of my business… I just thought, since you didn't say anything when I came in… I know that Brother is a very private person, and he gets a little shy…"
Where had she come from? C.C tilted her head, regarding Nunnally with even more interest. She didn't know if she was disappointed that Nunnally wasn't like Marianne. Marianne, with her wicked fire and alluring eyes, was nothing like this little doe.
I can see why Lelouch wants to change the world for her… she'd get eaten up otherwise.
And yet, Nunnally was a temptation all in herself. Pretty, sweet and young… C.C resisted the urge to bury her fingers in Nunnally's rich, nut-brown tresses. She stared at the girl's moist lips, thinking yes, and sighing when another voice warned her, no.
Nunnally could hear nothing but the other woman's breathing, and she was growing more and more uncomfortable. This woman was strange, and she didn't really think this Cecilia was a friend of her brother's at all. Awkwardly, she turned her chair.
"I-I think I'll come back later, when my brother is here–"
In her haste, she bumped into the table. The vase upon it tottered, and Nunnally grasped for it frantically when she heard the porcelain roll against the table. The smooth pot bushed negligently past her fingertips, and fell to the ground. The girl winced when she heard the crack as porcelain met the wooden floor.
"Oh no," she whimpered, leaning forward. Her finger caught on the sharp ceramic edge, deftly slicing a clean line down from the tip of her finger to the first knuckle. She felt a drop form on the edge of the cut, warm wetness sliding toward her palm. Unconsciously, Nunnally lifted her hand to her mouth.
C.C watched the pink lips mould around her finger, and breathed in, a smirk curving her own mouth. Convenient – and unbelievably cliché – but who was she to deny the opportunity?
"Careful," she said huskily, moving forward to grasp the delicate wrist (she may as well have been grasping at feathers). On her feet beside Nunnally she was all too aware that the girl could feel the bare skin of C.C's leg on her arm, even through the material of her dress. Nunnally's breath hitched.
"It's fine. It's nothing…" she squirmed in her chair, feeling the hand tighten around her wrist.
"What would Lelouch say if I let you leave with a wound and no treatment at all?" C.C admonished her teasingly. "I need your brother, Nunnally, and it just wouldn't do to upset him now."
Nunnally sighed, and allowed 'Cecilia' to wheel her closer to the bed so that the older woman could sit. Her hand rested in C.C's lap, which was uncomfortably warm as Nunnally noted with some embarrassment. She remained quiet as the woman worked. Disinfect, the seal, and…
"W-What are you doing?"
She yanked her hand from where C.C's mouth had been poised.
"Kissing it better, of course."
"I didn't ask – it's not appropriate–"
"I'm sorry if I offended you." Except that she really wasn't. And she showed that she wasn't by leaning forward, grabbing the feather-like wrist again and planting a moist, delicate kiss on the injured finger.
She's as innocent as her brother is (but virginity aside, Lelouch was hardly innocent) – no, she's as prudish as her brother is. Would it have been any different if Marianne had raised her…?
Nunnally, mortified beyond belief, clutched both arms in her lap. Face afire, she stammered, "I'm – I have to leave…"
"Don't go so soon."
"Please –" her protest was shrill.
"Stay." A voice breathed in her ear, warm lips closing in damp circle around the lower lobe. "Stay with me, Marianne."
The closed eyelids fluttered as if they were about to burst open at the sound of her mother's name. "How do you – how do you know that name?"
C.C closed her own eyes, running her tongue over her lips. A slip of the tongue, she told herself, but oh, what a thing to say. Why had she said Marianne's name? There was certainly little about Nunnally that reminded her of Marianne.
Perhaps…
"M-mother… how did you… how could you–"
The girl struggled now, pushing a palm against C.C's cheek. Unperturbed, C.C held her wrist, forcing it down. She leaned in closer, inhaling the sweetness of the light miasma misting around Nunnally. It was not familiar – she doesn't smell like Marianne. Nunnally did not smell like warm summer afternoons by the lake, or sultry days spent tangled in sheets, the bitter stolen moments before the Empress had to return to the castle…
I'm losing my touch – seducing a girl, and suddenly I'm sentimental. I must be getting old.
C.C balanced her weight on one arm of the chair, dipping her chin so that their cheeks were on the verge of touching. Nunnally trembled, but her struggles ceased under the weight of C.C's hold.
"I knew her once, you know."
"How… who are you?"
Fingers caressed the younger woman's cheek, passing with an odd sense of wistfulness over her features: tracing her lips made C.C remember the sensation of smudged lipstick smearing across her own mouth and fingertips. The quick flutter of eyelashes against her palm wrenched memories from her, of wispy black locks trailing gently across her stomach.
"I truly am a sentimental old woman now, aren't I?" C.C whispered. "I wonder if Marianne was like you when she was a little girl…"
"I don't understand, Cecilia–"
"I'd prefer that you didn't. If you understood anything about me, my dear, I wouldn't live to tonight. Your brother would kill me."
Nunnally whimpered, and C.C continued in a distant tone. "Lelouch would use the geass on you… oh, he'd hate it, hate himself for it, but he would do it just to preserve that pretty little innocence, all tucked up nice and secure…"
Her fingers danced to the neckline of Nunnally's dress, playing with the lace. "He'd damn himself for you, did you know that? He has damned himself for your sake, over and over… because of you there's a pit in Hell reserved for darling Lelouch."
A gleam of wetness, a beaded tear sliding down the side of her nose. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"And that is precisely what he wants."
"Please let me go!"
Her fingers stilled. "He would kill me for saying these things to you. I didn't intend to. Honestly," her voice sharpened with her annoyance. "I was only going to play with you. And you made me remember her. That is where you're like your mother; you both cause trouble without even trying."
Nunnally felt the heated moisture of lips pressing rhythmically on the skin of her neck and jaw between the witch's words. Her head was swimming, thrumming with questions, and her body remained taut even though it threatened to melt under the caresses.
"The question that must now be asked, my little dove," C.C murmured against her check, "is what I am to do with you. I can't possibly leave you as you are. Oh, I don't care if Lelouch were to kill me – I intend on having that. But I want to meet Marianne again, and I don't want her to be angry with me because of you. So…" her voice dropped, breath dancing in strands of spider silk across pale skin.
"I'll return the innocence I just stole. For both of Marianne's ruined children."
The younger girl felt fingertips tilting her chin up, hair fell down to sweep against her face. When C.C's mouth closed on hers, Nunnally was aware of every inch of it, the scrape that her dry lips made against the damp surface of C.C's.
A witch's kiss.
Nunnally's mouth went slack, eyelashes flickering rapidly.
C.C dipped her head, alternating between kisses and whispering into the girl's ear. Moments later, Nunnally was at the door, a vague and content smile on her face, her brother's present tucked securely back on her lap. She ignored C.C of course, but that didn't stop the witch from wiggling her fingers goodbye. As ordered, Nunnally would return only when he did and she would only remember an empty room.
When Lelouch returned to his room later that afternoon, he found a bored woman sprawled on his bed, dozing with the ever-present Cheese-kun nestled against her chest. Her eyes flickered open when she heard him open the cupboard, and he chose to ignore her as he took off his jacket. He felt those golden eyes on him, and the slight smugness of her stare made him feel nervous. He hated it when she did that.
"What did you do?"
She raised a brow and smirked. "Good afternoon to you too, Lelouch. My, I hope you had a lovely day as well. How was your day of terrorism and bloodshed?"
He scowled, loosening the cuffs of his shirt as he moved around the room, inspecting every inch of his belongings. "What did you do?" he repeated.
She flipped herself onto her back, giving him an artful look from underneath her fringe. "I got a little sentimental about the past," she said airily, and Lelouch missed the expression of wistfulness and regret that bloomed on her face while he exclaimed over the pile of history books marked in scribbles of red pen.
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