Standard Disclaimer: Code Geass and its characters are not my property, etc. If you're offended by explicit, mature themes, then read on and let me try to change your mind. 18+ please.
Timeline Note: This chapter picks up right where Ch3 left off, thereby (briskly) including the remainder of R2, Episode 14, and additionally, the material from Episode 15.
Author's Note: As you can tell from the title, this will be a primarily C.C.-oriented chapter. Near the end, I skipped some canon scenes, while writing out the ones I felt were important to this story - basically, there's going to be a bit of "jumping around" near the end of this one, so you've been forewarned.
The Castaway Prince – A Code Geass Lemon Fanfiction by ClockMaker411
Chapter 4 – Contract
Basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Lelouch felt completely content as he lay in bed, Kallen tucked into the side of his body, her head resting on his shoulder. Here in his sleeping quarters, shut off from the rest of the world, it seemed that his greatest concern was whether the sputtering light in the recessed panel above would at last die out, plunging the room into darkness. He wasn't overly worried – in truth, he half looked forward to it – to "finding his way in the dark", with Kallen.
As if responding to his thoughts, she stirred beside him, her arm slipping around his chest to cling closer even in sleep. That made him glance down, violet eyes tracing over her delicate features made hauntingly beautiful in the flickering shadows cast by the dimming lamp above. The effect was only slightly spoiled as a swath of red fell across her face, curling just beneath her nose to tickle her nostrils. She sniffed, and when that did not have the desired effect, wrinkled her nose. One of his slender fingers obliged her, gently lifting the stray lock of hair and rearranging it to lie behind her ear. Before he could withdraw his hand, her own enclosed his wrist, guiding him to press his palm against her cheek.
A slight smile curved in the line of her mouth as her eyelids slid partway open, deep blue irises regarding him through a curtain of thick lashes. "Sorry," he murmured, rubbing the corner of her jaw lightly with his fingertips, "I didn't mean to wake you." She kissed the heel of his hand, the gesture of affection accompanied by warmth lingering in her sea blue eyes as they gazed up at him.
"It's all right," she replied, releasing her hold on him to stifle a half-yawn before allowing her arm to its rightful place around his chest. "How long was I asleep?" Her arched eyebrows drew down.
He cupped her chin, the backs of his fingers stroking the underside of her throat in soft, tickling touches. She smiled, squirming a bit and snuggling closer. "A little under an hour. It's already midmorning." The hand now curving around to the back of her neck, Lelouch let the edge of his thumb twirl circles in the fine hairs just behind her earlobe.
Kallen responded with a contented purr, her eyes drifting closed once more. "Then it's still too early." She lifted her head a bit, getting more comfortable, and then settled her cheek on his shoulder, clearly intent on falling back asleep on top of him. He chuckled lightly.
"For you, perhaps, but I need to get up. There are… a few things that need seeing to before tomorrow." There was the briefing with Diethard, to assess the progress of both assimilating the separate provinces of the Chinese Federation into his fold, as well as the negotiations with the E.U., whom he needed to win to his side. And then, of course, he had to attend to the issue of Rolo, which he dared not leave to anyone else. The thought of his younger brother – no, the assassin of the Order, darkened his mood. Lelouch tried to force it out of his mind, choosing instead to look back down at Kallen, and he soon found that his grim demeanor was at best difficult to maintain as he watched her.
Though her eyes remained closed, she pouted a bit at his response, a slender leg hooking over his beneath the bed sheet and latching on quite securely, as if to say exactly what she thought of that. He narrowed his eyes in mock consternation, but the effect was lost on her. "You can sleep here, if you're still tired."
She stared up at him then, the pout that had shaped her mouth now affecting the sentiment in her eyes so that they appeared like nothing so much as wide blue wells glistening wetly in the wavering light. "Can't you stay with me for just a little longer?" Lelouch was baffled – not by her request, but by finding that he just couldn't resist that delicately pleading look, and so he offered her a tight smile and a slight nod, a flicker of troubled amusement passing across his features. He would have to guard against such looks in the future, or else he would be hard-pressed to ever refuse her. This time, he supposed, it seemed harmless enough. She kissed his collarbone in quiet gratitude and relaxed back along his chest.
He was silent for a time, simply enjoying the comforting presence of having her so close to him. The arm encircling her now slid downward, allowing a palm to rest in the narrow of her waist, just above the hip. His other hand moved up from the nape of her neck, Lelouch slowly running his fingers through her dark red hair as he cradled her head into the arch of his throat. The feel of her body, a tantalizing combination of soft curves and smooth muscle, excited him with its sensual promise – from the yielding warmth of her breasts, squeezed lushly to his ribs, to the silken slimness of her limbs, tangled with his own. It must have been his imagination, but he thought he could feel the hot wetness between her legs rubbing the side of his thigh. He swallowed, finding his throat suddenly parched, and forced his mind elsewhere in an attempt to curb the stirring in his loins.
A thought came to him then, and when he spoke, his words were quiet, tentative. "Kallen… what I said earlier…." His lips pursed, as if he didn't quite know how to phrase the question.
"You mean about C.C…?" she asked in an equally quiet, careful tone. He blinked, surprised that she had guessed his line of thinking, and craned his head away a bit so he could regard her. She hadn't moved, nor had she opened her eyes.
Lelouch cleared his throat. "Yes, about that." A deep furrow creased his forehead as he drew down his brows, considering her carefully, although her features betrayed nothing. "You are… all right, with that?" Try as he might, he could not quite keep the incredulity out of his voice.
She didn't answer right away, but instead, climbed partway atop his chest, using her forearms to support her as she raised her upper body to look at him directly. And it was a very direct look that she gave him, but not one of anger, as he had expected, but rather of intense resolve. "If you decide that you love her," she began in a measured tone, "…will that change the way you feel about me…?" By the time she had finished, a tremble had infected her voice, mirrored in the way that her sapphire eyes quivered hesitantly as they stared into his.
"Of course not," he replied firmly, disarming her worry with a small smile. She returned the gesture, if slowly, then leaned forward to brush a kiss over his lips. As near as she was, her words came as a caress of warmth along the line of his mouth.
"I won't lie to you, Lelouch," she murmured softly, "of course I'd rather have you all to myself." The tip of her pink tongue slipped out to wet her lips before she drew back, as to better gaze into his eyes. "But with you, though… I don't think that's possible." He watched as Kallen took a deep breath, steadying herself. Lelouch became quite keenly aware of the way her breasts pushed more insistently against his chest as she inhaled; he tried to ignore the feeling, making himself concentrate on returning her stare. "So long as a piece of your heart belongs to me," she whispered with a sad smile, "…I'll love you with all of my own."
Stunned by the sincerity of her words, Lelouch blinked a few times, staring at her. She smiled weakly, almost embarrassed. And then he collected himself, enfolding her in his arms, Kallen relenting and melting into the offered embrace. Unseen by her, a single tear rolled from the corner of his eye, down the side of his face and onto the pillow beneath. He spoke with a sentiment to match her own. "It may be a larger piece than you might think, Kallen." That seemed to please her, as she began to lightly kiss the side of his neck; he shivered in response, his head tilting back and offering more of his skin to her soft lips and tasting tongue. Lelouch let his hands explore the contours of her back, one stroking the hollow between her shoulder blades as the other drifted down the line of her spine, past her hips, to lightly squeeze her buttocks. She giggled into the curve of his neck, then lifted her head just enough to find his lips for a kiss.
"Still," he said breathily after she had settled back down on top of him, "I didn't think you'd be so… amenable, to that." It was her turn to chuckle, and Lelouch felt her arms sliding beneath him to hold his shoulders; he accommodated her.
"Well… I had some time to get used to the idea, when she and I were trying to find a way to get you back, after you lost your memories." Suddenly she pushed herself up, elbows locking to support her weight, her hands on the bed to either side of his chest. Eyes of a clear sea blue fixed him with a disapproving glare. "Just don't think this means you can go around bedding every girl who throws herself at your feet." He blinked innocently, showing her his empty palms in a gesture of surrender.
Satisfied, she gave a firm nod, then, as if considering something else, she glanced away, a bloom of color spreading across her cheeks. "And you better not be thinking any perverted thoughts either, Lelouch." She still refused to meet his eyes, her blush becoming all the more prominent in the low light from above. He was intrigued by her change in demeanor – perhaps with a little wine and a bit of coaxing, the three of them could…. Reddening at the indecency of it, Lelouch averted his eyes downward, only to be treated to the sight of her full breasts, hanging ripe and pendant between her supporting arms. His swallow was audible, and he had to give his head a shake before collecting himself and narrowing his brow at her.
He was about to reply with a playfully indignant retort but a muffled female voice from beyond the closed bedroom door made the sound die in his throat. "Lelouch, I brought – " In a flood of white, the rest of the world came rushing inside, and at its forefront, in the doorway, stood C.C., her figure a dark silhouette against the brightness.
Disoriented by the sudden light assaulting his eyes, Lelouch only thought he could see, just for an instant, a flash of emotion on C.C.'s features as she took in the room. She looked stricken. Devastated. Betrayed. But when he blinked away the residual afterimage and his vision refocused, her countenance had regained the mask of cool indifference she perpetually wore – if it had even been broken. Yellow irises regarded blue and violet alike with a thread of knowing amusement. "My, my," she chuckled in a sardonic voice edged with anger, "haven't we been busy this morning." That gaze narrowed on Kallen, still straddling him – then lowered, C.C. arching a fine brow as she considered the other woman's full, bared breasts. "I must admit – they are quite impressive, Kallen."
When she glanced down, Kallen's eyes widened, as if suddenly realizing her nakedness; with a sharp yelp, she flung herself under the bed sheets, curling up in a fetal position beside him – but not before she blushed a fierce red, from the curve of her collarbone all the way to the roots of her hair. Lelouch would not let himself be intimidated. He pushed up onto his elbows, glaring sharply at the green haired young woman as she stepped inside the room. The gold tip of her white, thigh-length boot toed a lacy ball of bunched up pink fabric – Kallen's panties. "Lelouch, I'm surprised you even made it to the bed, you horny little punk." Underneath the sheet, Kallen's body tensed; he slid a comforting hand to the back of her neck in reassurance, easing her anxiety.
"As you can see," he replied in a voice of equal ire, "you are interrupting. Leave." Her eyes of burnished amber did not flinch under the full weight of the smoldering violet stare he leveled at her. Instead, she smiled – it was not a gesture of wry sarcasm, but rather one of a resigned sadness. It was a look that surprised him with its sentiment, and because it was so unexpected, it worked to ebb his anger.
"Very well, Lelouch," came her murmured reply, accompanied by a smooth turn on her heels. She didn't depart immediately, but waited in the threshold, her head turned to speak to him over her shoulder. "I'd like to have a word with you, later tonight. About the terms of our contract." With that, she left, the gold-trimmed black tails of her outfit swishing quietly in her wake.
Kallen followed suit soon after, quickly collecting and donning her clothes. Lelouch watched her wordlessly from his seat at the edge of the bed; he regretted that she was leaving him, but enjoyed the sight of her as she dressed, her body lithe and her movements smooth, graceful, like a dancer. But before she left, Kallen bent down over him, slung her arms casually around his neck, and kissed him sweetly, sharing his breath, as if to reassure him that he wasn't the reason behind her decision not to stay. And then she told him the strangest thing. "I know I shouldn't be saying this, since she's my rival, after all…" she paused, her blue eyes intent on his violet, "but if I were her, I'd be furious with you." Her hand caressed the side of his face, and she added, with a blush, "Still, if you went to me, and told me how you felt about me… I don't think I could refuse you." A small, abashed smile curved in her lips, complementing the color in her cheeks. "You should go to her, Lelouch. Explain this to her – explain us. I think she will accept it."
Yes, he decided, the two of them must be mad - and Lelouch himself as well, for even entertaining such a preposterous notion of a relationship. He was still considering Kallen's unnerving suggestion when he finally left his bedroom, stepping distractedly into the white ambience of the lounge.
A glinted reflection from the low central table caught his eye, drawing him out of his thoughts. It was an ornately styled, covered silver tray, along with a plain ceramic teapot beside two cups on matching saucers. Breakfast. That was what she had brought him – what she had been saying upon coming across him and Kallen in bed. Lelouch stared at the tray for a long while, violet eyes intent – brooding. He did not feel at all hungry. Back in his sleeping quarters, unbeknownst to him, the flickering light in the panel on the ceiling finally sputtered out.
Cloaked in shadow, Rolo watched silently as the caped figure of Lelouch, dressed as Zero, glanced to either exit of the cargo bay, then ushered the more slender silhouette, Kallen, into one of the smaller storage rooms on the farther side. His eyes narrowed, the expression accompanied by a tight frown. Nii-san shouldn't be pushing young women into dark corners. And what did he see in Kallen? Why her?
Trying to quell the flaring jealousy at seeing the redheaded woman with his brother, Rolo turned instead to regard the majestic figure of his Knightmare Frame, Vincent, kneeling in one of the recessed, covered hangars. What had Lelouch been doing to it?
His interest had been piqued upon coming across all of the mechanics and technicians who worked in the hangar now congregating in the outer corridors. By the way that they loitered aimlessly, their expressions blank, Rolo surmised that Lelouch had used his Geass in order to have some time alone inside the loading bay - but he didn't know for what purpose. When he had entered, he had seen the opened cockpit block of his Vincent, and Zero, enshrouded in his tapering black cape, looming atop the Knightmare with his back to him.
Some remnant of the wariness and mistrust that had been instilled inside him by his time as an assassin had urged him into summoning his own power, stopping Lelouch's perception of time and allowing Rolo, in those stolen moments, to find cover in the darkness behind a few stacked storage containers. Upon releasing his Geass, Rolo's eyes had followed the figure of Lelouch descending smoothly on the lift line to the ground. He then promptly closed the cockpit block with some kind of remote control in his hand. And that was when Kallen had come in through the far entrance, spotting Lelouch and calling out to him. They had shared a few murmured words, too low spoken to be audible to Rolo, before Lelouch took Kallen aside into the storage room.
Switching his attention between the Knightmare frame and the door through which Kallen and Lelouch had absconded, Rolo contemplated what he should do. He knew that he had to trust his Nii-san – by choice and by fate, the only viable future he could have would be through his brother – and yet something about the way Lelouch had been acting, ever since he had dealt with Shirley, struck Rolo as unusual. His behavior had been… off. Sure enough, seeing Lelouch doing something to Vincent had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
But he had to believe that whatever Lelouch was up to, it was for his own benefit. After all, they were brothers. He wouldn't let Rolo come to any harm – Lelouch had proven as much, when he had saved him at the Chinese Embassy. Nii-san had used his own Knightmare to shield Rolo from an enemy sniper round that would certainly have killed him. Unconsciously, Rolo's hand slid into the pocket of his snug, blue flight suit, idly fingering the locket that Nii-san had given him as a birthday present. Yes, he had to trust Lelouch – to believe in him. Still fondling the locket, Rolo left the cargo bay through the far exit, looking back over his shoulder only once to make sure that neither Kallen nor Lelouch would see him depart.
"So what did you want to talk about?" As the door slid closed behind him, Lelouch watched Kallen take a few hesitant steps into the room. Though her tight red flight suit was supposed to increase survivability, Lelouch had no idea just how it was to accomplish such a feat, considering the way it hugged her curves like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. He was suddenly grateful that he still wore his helmet – it hid the rising blush.
She turned, slowly, her clear blue eyes lifting from the floor to tentatively gaze into the dark blue synthetic oval concealing his face, her stare flickering as if in search of the features she knew lay behind the darkly tinted visage. "We're alone… won't you take off your mask?" Arms folding unconsciously beneath her breasts, Kallen's gloved hands fingered the clinging red sleeves of her jumpsuit, betraying her nervousness. Lelouch had no idea behind its cause.
"Very well." The curved plates at the back of his neck slid upward, retracting with three clicks that sounded loud within the confines of the helmet. With a tilt of his head, the it was off, held cradled in one hand. He shook out his hair just a bit, reveling in the feel of suddenly cool air against his face, as his other hand reached up to lower the clinging cloth obscuring his nose and mouth. "All right, now will you tell me what's bothering you?" Emblazoned in his left eye was the magenta sigil of Geass, with its upswept fronds looking like a bird in mid-beat of its wings – or like a falcon, just before plummeting into a dive. Only now realizing that the power in his left eye was completely unfettered, Lelouch felt the instinctive need to shade it with his hand, but he restrained that urge; having used his ability on her once before, and as the command had not been rescinded by Jeremiah's Geass Canceller, there was no risk in exposing her to his power, even accidentally.
She regarded the glowing symbol in his nearly pupil-less left eye before shifting her gaze to the side, Kallen answering his question with one of her own and catching him slightly off-guard. "Have you talked with C.C. yet?"
The abruptness of it, along with the way she kept her distance, even after he took a half-step toward her, made Lelouch's sense of caution flare. He furrowed his brow, the intensity in his violet right iris eerily complemented by the glimmering purple emblem in his left. "No, not yet. Is that what this is about?" He hadn't been avoiding the woman, exactly – there had just been so many things that needed to be done that he hadn't yet gotten a chance to settle things with her. But truth be told, he didn't know what he would say to her, even if he hadn't been so busy. He was beginning to have doubts that the simple explanation that Kallen had suggested would actually suffice. From his experience, C.C. had an uncanny ability to complicate things – a dozen times over.
"Well… no." With great difficulty, it seemed, Kallen finally made herself meet his eyes, her expression quivering visibly in its uncertainty. It was only then that she at last closed the distance between them, her slim arms lightly encircling his waist beneath the cape draping back around his body. His mask still tucked in the curve of one arm, Lelouch let the hand of the other cradle her head at the base of her neck. Instead of folding fully into the embrace, Kallen remained just far enough away for her blue irises to regard his violet – close enough for a kiss. Something about her demeanor, though, fixed Lelouch in place. When her words came, they mirrored the hesitance in her countenance, spoken quietly and carefully, her partly downcast eyes regarding him momentarily every so often through a dark curtain of thick lashes. "Since you and I are… together, now," she murmured, pausing to wet her lips, "…that means I'm still the head of your bodyguards, isn't that right?" The veil of lashes lifting, Kallen's blue-eyed stare was intense, intent on only him. "I'm still the captain of Team Zero."
Lelouch returned her pointed look with a blank one, his face unreadable. He thought he knew where she was going with this line of questioning. "You are," he affirmed after a long moment. Smoothly but deliberately, he set his mask down on one of storage crates on his left, then added, in a measured tone, "However, I haven't changed my mind about tomorrow. You won't be involved." Her hands found the front of his chest, pushing herself away at about arms length; having expected as much, Lelouch let her go. The glare she fixed on him may have moved him a step back in other circumstances, but at that moment, he would not back down. In this at least, he would remain firm, despite the risk of incurring her wrath.
"Why not?!" she demanded, in a voice whose heat matched that of her burning blue eyes. "And don't you dare give me some excuse about keeping me out of harm's way," she added through gritted teeth. "I thought we already agreed about that." Her hands had become fists, balled up in the gold-trimmed bluish purple fabric of his coat.
He chuckled, but stopped himself after noticing that her anger only flared with the gesture, Lelouch opting to clear his throat instead. "It isn't that. It's quite the opposite, actually." Quick as a flash, the scathing emotion in her features was replaced by a sudden, guarded suspicion – her curiosity. He answered the unvoiced question. "The facility we'll be attacking derives its protection mostly from the fact that its location is a secret. Or was a secret, rather. In any event, I don't expect to encounter any significant resistance, Knightmares or otherwise." She blinked at him, clearly confused at the revelation.
"No resistance? Lelouch, why are we attacking it? And even if there isn't much risk, as the captain of Team Zero I should-" Lelouch cut her off by putting his hand on her shoulder, where it swept up toward the base of her neck. Even through the synthetic material of her flight suit, the warmth of her felt good.
"Kallen, will you trust me on this?" His gaze softened a bit – as much as it could, given the almost eerie glow of Geass spreading across his left iris. "I promise that I will rely on you just as much as I have in the past, but just this once, go along with my decision. Please."
She regarded him for a long moment, considering his words as her eyes searched his face. Slowly, the hands at the front of his chest relaxed, smoothing the wrinkles they had made in his clothing, before sliding back and behind him as she stepped close, reacquainting him to her embrace. "All right, Lelouch," she murmured softly into the corner of his jaw, her chin resting against the side of his scarf-clad neck. "I trust you." His gloved fingers entwining in the tousled, dark red peaks of her hair, Lelouch lost himself in the sensation of her – the heat of her body, even through the layers of his clothes and hers, the sweet smell of her hair, the light, clean scent of her skin, the lingering fragrance of her lavender soap.
"Thank you." He closed his eyes.
Torrents of hot water beating relentlessly against his skin, Lelouch let all of the tension throughout him drain beneath the rhythmic massage of liquid fingers working the muscles of his back and shoulders. Moreover, in the misty confines of the shower stall, with just the pattering music of running water lilting in his ears, Lelouch had a few moments to organize his thoughts.
The time he had spent with Kallen, kissing and touching, tucked away in a secluded nook of the Ikaruga, had seemed far too brief. He sighed at the memory of it. With she in her flight suit and he in his outfit as Zero, they hadn't been able to do anything, of course, and she took full advantage of that, teasing him incessantly with her hands and mouth – to the extent that Lelouch wondered whether it had been her way of getting back at him, leaving him in a state of immense sexual frustration. And then she had admonished him for thinking perverted thoughts, with no regard to their current location – a storage room in a hangar bay, of all places. But it had been she, not he, who had undone the top of her flight suit, surrendering the supple flesh underneath to his teeth and lips. Idly, he wondered how long she would have to wear the suit zipped to the collar before the marks where his kisses had lingered would finally fade, standing out now as mottled red bruises below her collarbone and near the upper slopes of her breasts.
When she finally broke their intimate embrace, Lelouch could tell by the sultry gleam in her blue eyes that she was half considering stripping off her clothes and his, storage room be damned. He made the decision for her, slipping one hand to the small of her back and drawing her close while the other nestled between her upper thighs, feeling the warmth of her sex even through the synthetic layers of her jumpsuit. Using gloved fingers, he granted her a taste of the release that she so desired, rubbing the skin-tight red material covering her crotch until she shuddered in her climax – but not before he let her hang on the cusp of her orgasm, for what, to her, must have seemed an eternity.
After leaving her, Lelouch couldn't seem to muster any enthusiasm for the remainder of the appointments that were scheduled for that afternoon and evening. He had briefed Rolo and Jeremiah on the ruse that they, as his protection, would set up in the desert outside of the Order's headquarters, then made the needed preparations for the backdrops and furniture to ensure the charade would be convincing. And afterward, he had had to address Diethard's concerns regarding the suspicions of the other members of the Executive Committee.
Unfortunately, there was little that could be done about that. Unlike at Ashford Academy, there was no double here with the Order of the Black Knights to pose as Zero when he was away, and his absence had apparently not gone unnoticed. At first it was a necessity – to rescue Kallen. But then he had stayed at Ashford, in order to determine the motives behind Anya and Gino's matriculation into the academy. Of course, the details of that operation had to be kept a secret from the rest of the committee, in order to preserve his anonymity. Now, with Rolo and Jeremiah on their side for reasons that likewise could not be disclosed, Lelouch knew that the doubts having taken root in certain members of the committee were now finding fertile soil. Tomorrow, he would have to proceed very carefully, in order to avoid inadvertently feeding their suspicions. And that was why, after the massacre was over, he would be certain to use his Geass to manipulate the memories of all those involved regarding what exactly had transpired during the attack.
Gritting his teeth, Lelouch steeled his resolve. He would use whatever means necessary, tell what half-truths he needed to tell, to see the Order razed to the ground. Not only were its assets a powerful weapon that his father, the Emperor, could use against him, but the Order, and the Geass that it represented, had toyed with Shirley's life, and through Rolo, had taken it. Tomorrow, he would offer up both Rolo and the Order as atonement to Shirley.
That, too, was another reason behind his decision to bar Kallen from the impending attack, aside from his main justification of sparing her from the kind of ruthless killing that the mission would demand. C.C.'s inclusion was of course unavoidable, but Lelouch felt that he owed it to Shirley to follow through with this on his own. He felt that somehow, the love that she had held for him, though unreturned by Lelouch, would be stained if Kallen, whom he did love, were to be involved.
A startling realization dawned on him then, forcing open his eyes. Keeping Kallen innocent of the cold-blooded brutality that would be essential tomorrow was indeed a key part of his rationale, but not the main part – rather, he didn't want Kallen to see he himself embracing such ruthlessness. He refused to allow himself to feel shame at what he would do – he knew it had to be done. Yet Kallen had fallen in love with Zero, the maker of miracles. And yet he couldn't help but think that her feelings for him would change if she found out that the price behind many of his miracles was, more often than not, a price paid in blood, indelibly staining his hands.
Lelouch had no aversion to using people, of course – that was the core tenet of his Geass, after all. Be they Britannians or Japanese, he had used people, had sacrificed their lives, deserving or not, in order to further his own goals. So long as the final results were obtained, what did it matter if he expended such lives to work toward his own ends? He had used those whom he had loved – Euphie. But despite the results that had engendered – a nearly decisive victory to win back Japan – the pain of that sacrifice still stung. His eyes closing, he repeated the mantra over and over in his head: the ends justify the means. Some corner of his mind told him that Kallen would not see it that way – not if she knew just how harsh was the price he had willingly paid.
Another part of him questioned whether their relationship could even work if he hid that conniving, heartless side of himself from her. It was a part of who he was – part of Lelouch, the man behind Zero's mask. If Kallen had fallen for the mask, was she now projecting those feelings onto the man, without seeing him for his entirety? No, that wasn't quite accurate – along with Zero, she also had to reconcile her feelings toward Lelouch Lamperouge, the Britannian student. But that was just another mask. Who was his true self – Zero, Lelouch Lamperouge, or Lelouch vi Britannia? Who did she love?
Setting aside those thoughts, Lelouch opened his eyes, but had to blink away water in order to ascertain whether what he was seeing was real or imagined. It was C.C., standing in the shower stall in front of him, completely naked, clothed only by the long falls of beautiful green hair that only partly hid the wet, glistening curves of her body beneath – hair that matched the trimmed thatch of soft green curls between her legs. Enshrouded in steam, her alabaster skin seemed even more pale and white, lending her an almost ethereal presence, an effect only amplified by the mortality of the angry red scar that marked the flesh below her left breast.
Her hands on his chest were real enough, forcing him back a step, until his shoulders met tile; she didn't flinch even as she passed beneath the spraying torrent from the shower head, soaking her hair to a darker green that clung to her skin, following the rivulets of dripping water. Slim white arms slipping around his neck, Lelouch could feel the hardness of her nipples indenting his chest as she pressed the slick heat of her body along the line of his.
Though her lips were a fingerbreadth away, she didn't kiss him yet, instead contenting herself with gazing into his eyes. He hadn't replaced the contact lens binding his Geass, but she didn't seem to be focusing on that; instead, her look seemed to penetrate deeper, as if she were staring into his soul. Her polished golden irises had a cast that he couldn't quite place, gleaming with an intent that made him uneasy. "C.C.," he murmured after a short while, if only to fill the wordless void between them.
"Seeing you with Kallen has had me… out of sorts," she said by way of explanation, a wry twist to her lips, "…but for now, you are mine." Her kiss was soft but insistent, lips warm and inviting, the tip of a pink tongue slipping out to caress the line of his mouth. He thought of the silver tray, left untouched even now on the table in the lounge outside; of the sad, resigned smile she had offered him after he had harshly ordered her to leave that morning; of the fleeting look of pain and betrayal that had stricken her features when she had first opened his bedroom door. But more than anything, his own need ached inside him, still not sated after his foreplay with Kallen, and his erection throbbed now with the promise of release, hot against the soft flesh of upper thighs. Lelouch found himself returning her kiss, parting his lips for her inquisitive tongue and meeting it with his own, while his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tighter to him.
After the kiss had ended, she took a few panting breaths before flashing him a coy smile. "No objections, Lelouch?" She laughed at his expression of undeniable hunger, then moved her body deliberately, her stare always intent on him. Using only one arm to hold herself around his neck, the hand of the other slid down his chest to grasp the growing hardness of him in her fingers. "I've been thinking about this since morning," she murmured with a sultry gleam in her eyes, and followed, with a heated whisper, "…you should feel how wet I've become." A flash of mischief alit in those amber irises as she shifted her weight to her right foot, allowing her left leg, bent at the knee, to slide up against the side of his hip. At the same time, her arm around his neck tightened, holding herself up as she went on tiptoe, while the hand still stroking him lifted his erect manhood to lie against his lower stomach; and then he felt her, her swollen lips opening themselves to the underside of his shaft, bathing him in the moistness of her arousal.
Lelouch's breath caught with the sensation of her soft, quivering sex pressed hard against the stiff length of him, warm and wet in the height of her desire. It wasn't the same kind of wetness as the water on skin, but slicker, hotter, as if her natural oil held its own flame. She felt like liquid satin. He watched her, forcing himself to breathe, as she looped both arms around his neck and bent slightly at the waist, curving her hips upward. She kissed him, taking his moans into her mouth as she began to rhythmically grind her body against his, stroking that yielding softness up and down the line of his erection.
His senses peaked, he could feel each velvet fold of her, enveloping him in a tantalizing, teasing embrace, punctuated by the swollen, throbbing hardness of her clit; she gasped every time the ridge of the head rubbed up along that tight nub of pleasure. Accommodating her position, he hooked one arm behind her raised knee to support her, while the other held her snugly at the small of her back. By her quickened breathing and the flush of red in her cheeks, he knew that she was close, and he gave her what she wanted, lifting her up off of her tiptoes and letting her focus all her energy into crushing that one, painfully sensitive area onto the contoured tip of him, bucking over and over until her entire body seized with her release, bathing him anew with the wetness of her orgasm.
"From this position," he said with a casual smirk as he waited for her to catch her breath, "it would be very easy for me to slide it inside you." His violet eyes flashed with heat – with need, and her returning smile looked almost wolfish.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Her arms tightening around his neck, she leaned close to his ear, her tongue flicking out to lick his earlobe before whispering, "Put it in me." Her hips adjusted, C.C. pulling her body up just enough so that the tip of him nestled in the groove of her entrance. Thrusting quickly, he was inside her, and she cried out at the sudden intrusion; but soon enough she responded, drawing up both legs, the first still hooked by his elbow, the second wrapping around his waist.
Burdened by the weight of her, Lelouch took a few steps forward, pinning her body between himself and the tiles of the shower stall. His free arm edged its way under her other leg so that he held both now to either side of him, lifted up in the crook of his elbows, anchored by palms placed flat on the tile. Thus fixing her in place, he began to move, slowly at first, to allow her to adjust to his presence. She whimpered, clearly wanting more, her body arching to meet him each time he sank into her, the silken glove of her sex pulsing and squeezing around him, consuming him, only to surrender his flesh to ready for the next deep stroke. At her urging, he increased the pace of the motion, driving into her harder and faster, her moans echoing off of the tile walls in a euphony underscored by the patter of falling water.
In her current state of heightened arousal, there was no way for her to last amid such an onslaught, were that her intent; quickly, she reached climax, but he didn't slow, leaving her at the mercy of her next release, following quickly on the heels of the last. Wave after wave of ecstasy coursing through her, it seemed the only thing grounding her to reality were her hands at his back, fingernails digging into his flesh and dragging down to leave long, red marks. Losing herself in all-encompassing sensation of a final, shuddering orgasm, she scratched him hard enough that he gasped in pain, half-expecting to see blood swirling into the drain below, should he look down; her teeth, too, clenched around the meat of his shoulder, at the side of his neck, not breaking skin but nevertheless hard enough that he expected it would leave a bruise.
"Wait," she managed through a ragged gasp of air, her entire body quaking with the resounding aftershocks of pleasure, ringing through her from between clenched thighs to curled toes and clawed fingers. Her breath hot in his ear, she murmured in lewd promise, "…Let me turn around."
Reluctantly he complied, setting her down, the length of him sliding out completely, but not before giving her one final, hard thrust, eliciting a barely stifled scream from her throat. Though her feet were on the floor, she still clung tight to his neck, as if afraid to trust her weakened knees; giving her a moment to get her bearings, Lelouch let his hands glide up and down the contours of her back, caressing her shoulders and line of her spine, then slipping down to lightly cup the round swells of her buttocks. She kissed his neck, pushing her ample flesh back into his hand. "Are you ready?" he asked, giving her a firm squeeze.
In answer, her hold on him loosened, her hands moving to his chest and pushing him back just enough to let her turn around so that she faced the wall. One hand splayed on the tile to brace herself with her forearm, the other snaked between her legs, spreading wide the glistening pink lips of her womanhood in open invitation. "Please," she murmured, looking at him hotly from over one shoulder, amber eyes gleaming with anticipation, "…do it hard."
Grasping her tight around the narrow of her waist, Lelouch rammed the entirety of his manhood inside her, hard enough that the force of the collision lifted her up onto her toes. "Yes!" she cried, grinding her buttocks onto the front of his hips, "…just like that, give it to me!" And he did, pounding roughly into her, the sound of slapping flesh mingling lasciviously with her growing moans of bliss. The hand still between her legs now fervently rubbed her clit, and her expert fingers coupled with the unrestrained abandon of his movements pushed her off the cusp of ecstasy countless times, her body tightening in the grip of that pleasure.
"C.C.," Lelouch managed, his hold around her waist tightening almost painfully, "…I can't last like this…." The whole length of her body was now pressed against the wet tile of the wall, C.C. still on her tiptoes as he took her brutally from behind, his movements as relentless as the unending font of water raining down over the side of his body.
"Tell me," she said between sharp moans, "…just before you're about to-" a sudden gasp cut her off as he redoubled his efforts, overtaken by the irrepressible hunger for his own climax.
He felt it building inside him, a warm tingling sensation that spread slowly out from the depth of his loins, to the base of his shaft, and all the way to its tip. "Now…!" he gasped, half of him still trying to suppress that burning need of release, while the other so desperately craved it – to spill his seed inside her in a last, shuddering thrust.
But she denied him that, C.C. pushing him back a step with her hips before sliding off of him – the wet, velvet folds of her womanhood were quickly replaced by the moist heat of her mouth as she turned, dropping to her knees, her lips wrapping around the head of his length and sucking hard. An insistent tongue caressing the contours of its underside, she smoothly took him deeper, until he could feel himself hit the back of her throat, then work past it. Aided by her hands at his lower back, she forced him farther into her mouth, down into her throat. And when her lips were finally at the very base of his manhood, her nose nuzzled in the dark curls of his hair, Lelouch felt her throat tighten, a rhythmic constriction that squeezed along the entirety of him inside her, as if she were trying to swallow the length of smooth flesh on which she sucked.
Gasping, Lelouch's eyes went wide at the pleasure – all of it too much for him to bear. His fingers tightening in the matted locks of her green hair, he at last surrendered to the long awaited rapture, his hands holding her head firmly in place, pressed into the front of his hips, as his manhood jerked inside her mouth, pumping a ragged torrent of his seed down her throat. He moaned, shuddering, his knees growing weak, all of his vitality seeming committed to this single explosive release. She drew back just enough to take in a breath through her nose, letting his come spill into the back of her mouth, tasting him on her tongue. Still, she swallowed, sucking hard, coaxing more of his essence out of him; her left hand slid between his legs to fondle his balls, squeezing gently, as though to drain him of every last drop.
After his convulsions had subsided, she let him slip from her mouth, C.C. planting a wet kiss on the tip of his member. Having no intention of letting him soften, her right hand now took hold of the shaft, skimming a loose fist over his skin, while the left still caressed his balls. "Kallen can't do that for you, now can she?" Her golden eyes gleamed as she looked hotly up at him, rivulets of water streaming down her face.
The long pent up tensions now finally satisfied, Lelouch, in a moment of abrupt clarity, now understood the look that he earlier had not been able to place – the same look with which she gazed up at him now. Her eyes had a predatory gleam, as if she were a she-wolf claiming her territory. The dull ache of the bite on his shoulder, along with the still stinging red marks running down his back, now had a different meaning – she had left her mark on him, doubtless for Kallen to see. At the center of it was C.C.'s jealousy, and now, she was using her body, performing favors for him, to win his heart. A wave of shame at the realization washed through him, making his cheeks flush red. He should have known it at the start, and stopped her before it had come this far. But he hadn't, instead craving his release so intensely that it didn't matter just who became the outlet, and she had been willing, if for the wrong intentions. He had taken advantage of her.
Fingers abandoning their hold on her hair, Lelouch took a step back, turning his head away from the barrage of water as he passed beneath the showerhead. "C.C.," he said quietly, just loud enough to be heard, "I don't want you like this." His eyes were angled down and away, watching the swirling currents emptying down into the perforated drain of the floor. In a way, it was almost ironic – he had expected Kallen, rash and quick to anger, full of emotion, to have been the jealous one, but she had entertained the possibility of a triangular relationship – at least on the surface. But C.C., who had first expressed her willingness to share, had now become intensely possessive, after finding out just what that really meant.
When he stepped back, she took the opportunity to rise smoothly to her feet, a left hand finding him still hard as she sidled against the wet line of his body, followed by her right arm slipping around his slick torso. Using just two fingers, she stroked the underside of his shaft in a light, teasing touch that had him quivering with anticipation, though against his will. The unexpected caress made him glance back at her, and try as he might, he couldn't quite keep the embers of desire out of his eyes. "Tonight," she said in a voice smoky with promise, "…you can have me any way you want, Lelouch." Leaning close to his ear, she added, in a whisper barely audible above the falling water, "You can put it… anywhere… you want." He swallowed, his throat painfully dry.
Though it took great effort on his part, Lelouch somehow managed to push her away, holding her tight by her upper arms and forcing her back, a bit more roughly than he intended, until her shoulders hit the wall. Startled by its abruptness, C.C. shut her eyes tight, her arms crossing in front of her by instinct, as if to ward off any impending blows. After none came, she hesitantly looked up at him, blinking in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said, glancing down and loosening his grip on her, even if he still kept her at arms length. "We can't, C.C.. I can't be with you, like that, anymore." He made himself look up at her face, to see the pain and hurt in her expression, her eyes glistening with welling tears, lower lip trembling visibly.
"You are… refusing me, Lelouch?" Her voice quavered, the question carrying no small amount of incredulity. She searched his features, her own still cast with an air of fragility that reminded him of the way Kallen had looked that morning, when she had pleaded with him, for her heart's sake, to destroy any hope for a chance that they could ever be together.
"It's not fair to you." It was true. He knew, as much as he could without asking her outright, that she loved him, and seducing him was her way of trying to make him fall in love with her – as if by becoming the object of his bodily lust, an emotional attachment to the woman would eventually follow. Although he still didn't know how he felt toward her, he valued her enough that he didn't want her to feel as if she must throw her body at his feet, offer herself up as his plaything, in order to gain his affection. Part of that had been his fault, he knew, for accepting her invitation of casual sex in the beginning, when the strain of living multiple lives had become too great. Such companionship with her for a time, at least, had relieved that strain. The point at which it had become more than that to her was just another detail that he had never noted. But the fact remained that for now, to continue in such an unbalanced exchange would not be fair to her – he at least had to sort out his feelings for her first, and perhaps afterwards, something would follow.
Sharp words, spoken in a voice dripping with venom, drew his attention back to regard her. "Don't you mean it's not fair to Kallen?" Her expression had changed, gleaming golden eyes auguring into him with such piercing force that they moved him back a step, his hands quickly releasing their hold on her. Despite the glare, he could see on her cheeks the streaming lines of tears, distinguishable even amidst the droplets of water running down the sides of her face. "You've made your choice," she said bitterly, "Now go." Her arms folded across her chest, covering her bared breasts. She refused to look at him.
"C.C.," he said tentatively, reaching his hand out to touch her, "It isn't like that. I'm not-" But she didn't let him finish, interrupting him in mid-sentence.
"Leave!" The sound of the single shrieked word reverberated off the tile confines of the shower stall, coupled by a look from her whose viciousness snapped shut his mouth. Complying with her wish, he turned, sliding open the frosted glass door to admit a rush of cooler air, which caused the steam inside to billow upward.
Pausing for a moment, he asked in a quiet voice, over his shoulder, "Just what am I to you, C.C.?" Her sardonic, lilting laugh drifted to his ears at the question.
"You shouldn't have had to ask, Lelouch." When she said nothing more, he departed, closing the door behind him.
When she was sure he was gone, C.C. sank to the floor, bracing her back against the corner of the shower stall and hugging her drawn up knees. The pain between her legs, where he had been too rough with her, had faded now – just another benefit of having an immortal body. What little blood there had been was long washed away with the drain water, unnoticed by Lelouch. Her throat still ached, though, she having choked herself on him for his pleasure, and the taste of his seed, which she had never seemed to bother her before, now seemed bitter in her mouth.
"He rejected me, Marianne," she murmured quietly into the tiled corner of the stall. "But maybe that's for the best." Her eyes narrowed, almost as if considering unspoken words. "Of course, my wish hasn't changed." After a moment, she chuckled. "Yes, it will be easier for me, now." The sad, resigned smile curving into the line of her mouth, C.C.'s eyes focused on something far off in the distance, something outside the bounds of the room, the ship, and perhaps, even the world. "It will be easier for me to die."
Wearing a darkly sinister smile, Lelouch watched the carnage unfolding below him, evidenced by plumes of thick gray smoke following every explosion or building's collapse. The attack was proceeding quite well, he thought, and the diversion he had orchestrated to catch V.V. off guard and pinpoint his location had been well worth the effort.
Initially, he had had his doubts, particularly concerning C.C. and what had happened the night before. But when he had gone to the hangar bay to embark on the mission, he had found her already mounted in her pink Knightmare, awaiting his orders. She hadn't spoken to him, of course, but he couldn't exactly fault her for that.
At least Kallen hadn't been there to see him off, adding insult to injury. He supposed that she was still a bit touchy about being left out of this mission. But it had worked to his advantage, and he could handle Kallen at a later time. That, at least, was something that he would look forward to; Lelouch had the distinct feeling that smoothing things out with C.C. would not go over so well.
Shinkirou floating high above the underground city, Lelouch's fingers fluttered across a keypad, calling up a magnified view of something on the ground onto the main screen. It was a bloodied hand, reaching out from beneath a heavy slab of stone wall, its fingers slack in the crushing finality of death. Just another life among many that would find their end that day. Even this high above, the amplified audio transmitters of his Knightmare carried the shouts of men and wailing screams of women, cut off abruptly by staccato gunfire and the booming bass of explosions. Yes, he had made the right decision in keeping Kallen from this attack. He had vowed to become evil to destroy an even greater evil, and he would keep to that vow, for Shirley's sake.
Dismissing the image onscreen with a flick of his fingertip on a key, Lelouch turned his attention to the projected area map in the lower corner of his view screen. The central purple area in that hexagonal grid was quickly being consumed by red, signifying sectors that had been pacified by the forces of the Black Knights. V.V. lay somewhere amid that central grid, and Lelouch's snare was closing around his neck. Once V.V. was secured in a high-pressure case, he would only have to detonate the bomb he had planted in Vincent's cockpit block, and his retribution for Shirley would be complete. He would offer up Rolo's life, V.V., and all the members of the Order, as a service to Shirley.
In a chaotic burst of dust and debris, something large erupted from the buildings below him, the crash of stone echoing throughout the expansive cavern in which the city had been built. "What!?" Rearing Shinkirou back to avoid and assess the threat, Lelouch found himself staring at the Knight Giga Fortress, Siegfried. "Jeremiah!" he shouted through a now open communication channel, "This unit's –"
"Yes," came the older man's resonant voice through the static, "It uses potential nerve linking. The only one who can use it other than me is –"
V.V. "I knew it!" One large green spike emerging from out of the orange sphere folded inward, pointing straight at him; even before it launched, Shinkirou's Absolute Defense Territory was engaged, summoning a glowing magenta shield of overlapping hexagons over the Knightmare's chest. Despite that, the force of Siegfried's attack drove Shinkirou back, up through the cavern's ceiling in a grinding jolt of metal on rock.
The battle was over, but at what cost? From the cockpit of his Knightmare, Kinoshita's eyes scanned over the hundreds of body bags, laid out in neat rows on a clearing of stone forming one level of the underground city. "Aren't we just the same as Britannia, then?" he said to himself, still stunned by the cruelty of the massacre. Many of those body bags were smaller than the others. "Was there a need to kill these children, too? Was there really?" He didn't know what revolted him more – that he had ordered his men to slaughter even children, or the fact that Zero had had the foresight to supply them with the smaller, child-sized body bags. The thought sickened him.
And there were the men he had lost – good soldiers, all – for an attack on what? This was clearly not an army installation; these people, men and women, young and old, had offered no resistance, had possessed no means of defense, at least up until that orange monster had crashed through the city. His men had died fighting the beast of a Knightmare, the one they called Siegfried. That, at least, was now destroyed.
"Vice-Captain Kinoshita!" a voice crackled through a communication channel, "Shinkirou has –, Zero has – disappeared! All communications with him have been cut off!"
His eyes went wide. "What?! Fan out and search the lowermost level! We have to find him!" Without Zero, this massacre, this travesty, would truly be for nothing.
Sprawled on the ground, Lelouch's eyes slowly focused on the pale orange sky above, lined with striated strings of thin white clouds. His shoulders and back ached from where they had thudded against the wide oval stairway leading up to the main dais of the Sword of Akasha, as Charles had called it. One moment, he had been standing atop his father's, the Emperor's, fallen form, the blood still soaking through his clothes where the bullet had pierced his heart, and the next, he had been alive, eyes open, a maniacal grin splitting his broad face.
In the lingering dizziness of having his head slammed onto the marble floor, Lelouch couldn't understand how it had happened. And then he remembered. The sigil of Geass, with its noble, upswept wings, had appeared in dark red on his father's right palm. Like C.C. and V.V., his father, Charles di Britannia, the Emperor, was immortal. Geass, Lelouch's primary weapon, was now ineffective against him. How was he supposed to fight him, now? To fight an immortal? All of his plans thus far had been made with the ultimate goal of placing himself in eyeshot of his father, so that he could use his Geass and kill him. It now seemed all too futile a strategy. There was just no way he could win.
The Emperor's deep, resounding voice called out from the temple looming above Lelouch, its timbre managing to echo even in this place without walls. "I have obtained a new power to replace Geass," he stated, "Therefore, Lelouch, I may now tell you the true form of this world…." Pushing himself up onto his hands, Lelouch watched as his father's right arm stretched out, some kind of square pillar rising from the ground to meet his opened palm. When he touched it, a ring of diffracted light shot out from the floor around Lelouch, but before he could react, the surrounding world faded away, engulfed by blinding white light.
Staring at the gold-framed painting hanging in the air before him, Lelouch's gaze alternated between the black-clad nun lying supine on the dark stone floor of the church, her hands folded peacefully over her chest, her head surrounded by a spreading halo of blood, and the naked figure of C.C., curled up at the foot of the altar, clutching her bleeding chest. Now he knew the story behind the scar that so intrigued him – it had been a mortal wound to mark the beginning of her immortal life, an injury that forced C.C. into accepting the curse of immortality in order to survive. In the end, the woman whom she had loved like a mother, whom she had trusted, was only using her – she just a tool to bring to a close the final portion of her life. To allow her to die.
The green haired woman turned away from the painting, regarding him with inquisitive golden eyes. In this colonnade of white marble and sweeping purple arches, she embodied a kind of inner consciousness of the C.C. he knew, locked away inside her along with all her forgotten memories that the intricate, floating paintings represented. "But you are not here yet," she said in that quiet, silken voice, "to me, you are not a person of the past, but a person of the real world, are you not?"
Lelouch regarded her with a sidelong glance, his hands sliding into his pockets. "Who knows?"
"She must have been an important person, no?" Tentatively, she reached out a dark-sleeved arm, her outfit a version of the restraint attire in which he had first seen her, but its colors inverted. Her fingers lightly touched his elbow.
"That can't be." He shifted his gaze back to the painting. C.C.'s words – the real C.C. – still echoed in his mind. 'To me, this person no longer holds any value.' Was she just using him, as she herself had been used? If so, why hadn't she gone through with it? Her wish?
From the corner of his eye, Lelouch thought he saw her smile. "Is that so?" Her hand fell back to her side. "She must have sent you here because she sought to protect you from something, even for a short moment." That made him turn to fully face her, and he blinked in consideration.
She closed the distance between them, her hands gently cupping the sides of his face, as the world around him seemed to flicker in and out of existence, intermittently replaced by surroundings he recognized - the inside of Shinkirou's cockpit. "This place cannot sustain you any longer," her sad whisper came in explanation, eyes glittering as they stared up into his own, "...but perhaps, in the real world, you will be the one. You know it, right? Her true wish…." When he felt her lips brush his in a fleeting kiss, she was gone, as were the columns, archways, and paintings constituting her subconscious prison. In its place was the hard material reality of Shinkirou, and large on the view screen, at the foot of Sword of Akasha, stood his father, the Emperor, with C.C.'s slim figure leaning against him.
"C.C!" he shouted the moment he recognized her, his hands fisting and knuckles turning white at seeing her together with his father.
"So," rumbled Charles' distant voice, "Lelouch has opened the Thought Elevator." In his magnified view of the elder man, Lelouch thought he had seen him smirk.
"I see," he said to himself, glancing around to get his bearings, "so this entire space is a system that interferes with thought." From either side of his seat, a set of twin touch pads folded out in front of him, but before he could mount a response, he was jolted in his seat as huge pyramids of metal slammed into Shinkirou, trapping the Knightmare in place. His jaw clenched.
"This will be quick," his father said in a tone of confident satisfaction. "Watch from where you are, Lelouch." C.C.'s eyes, regarding Lelouch, were pulled back to Charles as a large gloved hand clutched her forearm, his other holding her firmly at the small of her back. And then, leaning forward, he dipped her low, her body arching, almost as if in a dance - or a kiss. C.C.'s right leg lifted, bent at the knee, and her head tilted back, the long locks of her hair streaming beautifully beneath her as a bright rainbow of light silhouetted both their forms. Squinting his eyes, Lelouch thought he could see her hand pressed to his father's chest. He felt helpless to do anything, his mind racing.
"Stop!" he shouted, jaw clenching. "She's… she's my…" his voice trailed off. Accomplice? Friend? Confidante? Lover? She was all those things and more. He now understood what he felt for her. Just as she had bonded with the woman who had given her Geass, so he had with formed a kinship with C.C., but it had become more than that. She had fallen in love with him, with the true Lelouch, Lelouch vi Britannia - not the artificial veneers of himself that were Zero or Lelouch Lamperouge.
Just as those one-eyed masks had mocked him, Lelouch ached to reveal his true nature to those he loved, but his subconscious fear and shame, even more than the surface excuse of necessity, had made that an impossibility. But C.C. was someone with whom he could be his true self, someone who loved him - who accepted even the heartless side of his persona. He did not want to lose her - not like this. Not before he told her just what she meant to him. Not before he fulfilled her true wish.
Angrily, he shouted, "Answer me, C.C.! Why didn't you try to die with me as your replacement?" His fists tightened. "You could have pushed the hell of eternal life onto me! Are you pitying me, C.C.?" She wasn't responding – his words weren't working. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes as he yelled, desperately, "Don't you die with that look on your face! At least smile as you die!" Through gritted teeth, then added, "I'll make you smile, damn it! So –" Lelouch's mouth snapped shut as he watched her abruptly push herself away from Charles, shoving his chest with her hand. She ran a short distance away, then stopped, a square key panel rising up from the ground only to be met by both her hands. It activated in a soft red glow.
"What is the meaning of this, C.C.!?" Charles roared, the light that had surrounded them now fading into nothingness. As if pulled away by invisible chains, the pyramidal barriers surrounding Shinkirou quickly withdrew – his Knightmare was freed.
Lelouch acted swiftly, Shinkirou rising smoothly in the air with a sweep of its arms outward on either side. "I won't have you take any more away from me," he said to his father in a voice of bitter promise, light fingertips dancing along the array of glowing keys illuminated with every touch. The Knightmare's arms angled toward the pillared structure, unleashing twin roiling spheres of red and black lightning from the Hadron blasters beneath its wrists.
"What foolishness!" the Emperor's voice boomed, even as the pulses of searing energy tore through the stone roofs and columns of the temple in a shower of shattered rock and clouds of dust. The volley did not cease, cutting down pillars and archways, wreaking havoc on the ancient structure and leaving a trail of flickering red static wherever they hit.
Without warning, the very ground on which the two figures stood came apart, and C.C. was falling, spiraling down amidst large chunks of beige stone. Immediately Lelouch abandoned the attack, plummeting his Knightmare into a steep descent until he could match the height and speed with which she fell. His cockpit block opened, and bracing himself with a knee and one hand, he reached out towards her falling form, Shinkirou slowly closing the distance between them. "I understand, C.C.!" he shouted over the clamor of crumbling rock, "Your Geass, your true wish!" She didn't react, twirling upside down in a slow rotation, her amber eyes blank as Shinkirou glided ever closer, she now almost within his grasp. "Hey, look at me!" Reaching out, Lelouch somehow caught her wrist. But with that touch the world went dark.
When he regained his senses, he found himself kneeling on a lush red carpet before a pair of immense stone doors, veined with glowing purple and marked with the sigil of Geass in red at their center. C.C. lay supine on the floor, still unconscious. He bent over her, one arm scooping her up around the shoulders while the hand of the other hand supported her neck. "We're back now, C.C.," he said gently, tilting her face toward him. He heard her moan. "Snap out of it." Slowly, her eyelids slid open, but when her amber eyes focused on his, they went wide, showing whites all around. "I've contacted Rolo. I'll use him right away to-" Abruptly C.C. pushed away from him, scampering back on her hands and heels, one arm drawing protectively up in front of her chest.
"Umm, who might you be?" Her voice seemed somehow different from the usual husky timbre with which she spoke. And she looked frightened – no, not just frightened. Absolutely terrified.
Lelouch's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?" He sat back on his heels. "Anyway, about the Emperor and that system - " She interrupted him.
"Are you my new master?" What? Lelouch blinked in surprise, not sure if he was hearing her correctly. She continued, her body trembling, voice meek, golden eyes downcast. "My skills include cooking and cleaning, carrying water buckets, taking care of livestock, sewing... I can read just a little, and I can count to twenty." Risking a tentative glance, she dropped her gaze to the floor upon seeing his stunned, wide-eyed stare. "Ah," she added, as if to appease him, "I've also cleaned dead bodies before..."
He couldn't believe it. Somehow, be it a result of what his father had almost done to her, or as a consequence of destroying the Sword of Akasha, or something else entirely, she had lost her memories. The C.C. he knew was gone, lost, perhaps forever. And with the brutal, crushing verity of that truth, he finally realized that some part of him had loved her. "Master," she asked hesitantly, yellow eyes peering carefully up at him, "…why are you crying? Could it be that you aren't pleased with me?" Lelouch found himself at an utter loss for words.
End Chapter 4