As Shadow Stirs (Part 11)
Author: Jusrecht
Pairing: Schneizel el Britannia x Kururugi Suzaku
Disclaimer: Code GEASS belongs to Sunrise.
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"He looks thoroughly unfriendly."
Suzaku glared at Jacques and was about to reprimand him for this unguarded comment – in front of the other soldiers no less – when Claire decided to join the abusive discussion.
"What do you expect?" she said viciously, leaning closer to read the profile under the scowling photograph properly. "Just look at this summary. Lord Alaric Vandewalle – I'm not even commenting on the fancy name – the only son and heir of the old, influential Vandewalle family. Attended the best private schools from elementary to college, always graduating top of his class with flying colours. One of the youngest and finest graduates of the Imperial Military Academy, and immediately recruited into the ranks of imperial knights before joining the Camulos Knight four years later, the then newly-formed elite force under Prince Schneizel. Has been regarded as their unofficial leader since then and continues to be one of the best knights in the empire." She made a small, disgusted sound at the back of her throat. "No wonder he looks like a pompous ass. He's so hideously perfect."
"And he's coming here," Suzaku reminded them both sternly and closed the folder before any of them could come up with another unpleasant remark concerning their guest. Jacques picked up the tone of his voice and raised an eyebrow.
"My point is this is the kind of man you'll have to deal with from now on," he said, sounding both placatory and interested at the same time. "The elites. The crème de la crème of the empire."
"The most snobbish nobles the empire can produce, you mean," Claire said callously.
Jacques threw the female officer an amused look. "Did I just sense a little personal prejudice?"
"That's the truth," she answered staunchly, her chin raised in a challenging manner. Suzaku massaged the bridge of his nose to ease a worsening headache.
"I'm beginning to regret ever showing this to either of you," he declared loudly. "We will arrive at the meeting point in less than half-an-hour and this is what we are discussing?"
They finally looked at him, one with sympathy, the other a frown. "You need to relax," Jacques pointed out. Suzaku shot him a dark look.
"I am the most relaxed person in the room, if you haven't noticed."
"No, you aren't," he countered easily, his typical mocking smile back on his face. "You're intimidated, but there's really no reason to be. Your summary is just as impressive if not better. Lord Suzaku Kururugi, the first Number to be recruited into the ranks of imperial knights. Jumping from the rank of mere Private to Brigadier General in an incredibly short span of one year. The personal knight of not only one, but two members of the Imperial Family, and practically the only person in the whole world who can get away without any punishment after physically injuring his lord and master, the eminent Prince Schneizel el Britannia himself."
Claire burst into laughter, her frown dissolving as quickly as a trail of smoke against the wind. Suzaku found himself fighting back a blush and failing entirely.
"You've promised never to mention that again," he growled, scowling at the other man. He had been so miserable throughout the day, mostly because every time he looked at his prince he would be reminded to what had happened earlier in the morning, and Jacques had continued to notice the anguished look on his face – and then correctly guessed its cause each time, to Suzaku's utmost mortification.
"You're on edge," the reply came with a nonchalant shrug. "Don't worry too much. He'll like you once he meets you. God knows we all did."
"Yeah, right," Claire cut in with a derisive snort. "He's a pompous ass who's used to being at the top of everything and Suzaku here is about to kick him to the sidelines. I'll say it won't be exactly an easy job to bend someone like that."
Jacques looked at her, exasperation clear on his face. "Why, thank you so much, Claire," he said sarcastically. "Your tremendous contribution is appreciated, even if its service is rather poor if any at all."
She ignored him, her narrowed eyes fixed on her superior. "It's a grave insult to their kind. He'll seek to trample you, the prince's knight or not."
Suzaku smiled wryly. "If that's truly the case, I think he will discover that I'm not that easy to trample, the prince's knight or not," he answered matter-of-factly, and earned himself a grin which was a part pleased and a part roguish.
"Make sure you show him that," she said, sounding satisfied. This, without fail, triggered another comment from Jacques.
"With the kind of vicious sentiment you're having for nobles, I won't be surprised if you end up marrying one of them in a few years," he said dryly.
Suzaku suddenly wished that their dreaded guest had arrived as his two friends plunged into another round of word-jousting.
--
At thirty of age, Lord Alaric Vandewalle cut a striking figure even among the finest knights of Britannia. As Lord Gael Barringham, another member of the Camulos Knight and one of his closest friends had said laughingly once, he was the backbone of the team, the defender of their ranks, the captain and leader in all but name. The rest of the knights generally agreed with this description and took care to follow his instructions when they were given, despite the supposed equality of their status.
Alaric never minded. It was his principal belief that a group, no matter how small or exceptionally staffed, required a leader to function well. The problem with Camulos Knight was that its office of leader was to be held by no other except His Highness's personal knight, a position which had been vacant for years – until a month ago, that was. This rule, he understood, had been established with the purpose of avoiding any inner conflict in mind. Nevertheless, it was also a fact that no one had ever tried to challenge his authority so far. In his opinion – everyone's opinion, actually – the most obvious solution would have been to appoint him the prince's knight.
His Highness, as it appeared, had a different plan.
To say that he was not disappointed would be stretching the truth too far. It was a highly coveted position and increasingly so as the power of the Second Prince grew each day. He realised that there was envy too as he stood there, looking up at the white Knightmare which had struck intense, even paralysing fear among the enemy of Britannia. He was, by all standards, a man not easily impressed – and these stories had been exaggerated to the point of absurdity to merit any of his opinion in the first place – but as Lancelot glared down at him, he wondered if there wasn't a grain of truth in them.
It was an impressive machine albeit slightly unusual in design – but he had heard quite a bit about its creator's eccentricity. Its armaments were varied, more than his own Knightmare, and possibly more advanced too. And if the reports he had read about its level of mobility were dependable, then it was truly a masterpiece of the Research and Development Department which he had before his eyes.
Its pilot, however, was a different case.
Lord Vandewalle frowned. He had seen him, on television and newspaper reporting the knighting ceremony. Very young, relatively small in stature, and far from impressive as far as the word goes. For a knight of an imperial prince, he was an unusual choice.
And then there was something his mother had mentioned, about the boy's relationship with Prince Schneizel. A general of the Imperial Army, she was not one for rumours, so he knew better than to dismiss it as such. The popular belief was that Kururugi's role did not stop at being a knight. But His Highness never did anything without a good reason, she had added, eyes sharp on her only son. Proceed carefully.
"Lord Vandewalle?"
Alaric turned his head slightly and noticed a young woman with red, flaming hair, standing in a perfect salute toward him. "Lieutenant Colonel Claire Barton, Sir," she said. "Welcome to Avalon. I will escort you to the prince's private office."
He nodded once and walked his feet to follow her. Time to see with his own eyes.
--
There was something distinctly wrong with this office.
For one, it had windows – huge, transparent windows on the right and left sides of the room. Suzaku was under the impression that the office of the commander of the ship – and a prince at that – was supposed to be safe and secure. But this one had windows. And they were aboard a battleship.
To be fair, Suzaku had to admit that despite having visited this office many times before, he had never quite recognised these windows as a threat before. Now, when the prince's safety was perceptibly a constant, predominant thought in his mind, he found himself deeply troubled. So many things could happen. If in a case of a battle, an enemy with a Knightmare managed to break through their ranks and saw the prince, say, sitting behind his desk talking on the phone like he did now, one could only imagine what would happen.
Suzaku rested his head on the thick glass and sighed, eyes seeing past the glimmering horizon of the sea. Maybe he was overreacting. Despite all his remonstrances to Jacques's accusation earlier, he was, in fact, intimidated. This was different from the tournament. He had to make a good impression without the aid of his piloting skill, to a nobleman who was not only one of the best knights there was, but also the unofficial captain of the elite company he was about to lead. He might have spent the last month at His Majesty's court, but Suzaku couldn't say if he was at all confident to meet this man.
"Are you nervous?"
The voice startled him, coming so close from behind his left ear. Suzaku turned around, or at least tried to, but a pair of hands had settled on his shoulders and kept him in place, facing the window. The call had ended, he realised – and felt incredibly foolish that he had just noticed the lack of noise above the ship's quiet hum.
"No, my lord," he finally managed to locate his voice.
There was a moment of silence as the prince took one step closer, successfully trapping his knight between his body and the solid glass. And then he spoke again, his tone still lingering above anything specific, "You have a good reason to be. He is the best out of them, a remarkable soldier and a brilliant commander."
"Is he?" Suzaku murmured, and wondered why his voice echoed like the pathetic sound produced when someone had put their fingers around his throat – and they were squeezing, slowly, tightly.
"The very finest."
He looked up, craning his neck so he could see the prince's face. "Then why wasn't Lord Vandewalle chosen to be Your Highness's knight?" he asked, his voice just a shade too sharp. There was also a trace of challenge in it, and perhaps the slightest complacency born from a newfound confidence in their intimacy, but Suzaku knew, with the certainty of the sea raging beneath their ship right now, that he had gone too far. It was not his place to question his lord's decisions, and even less to flaunt them in his face. The latter especially, he recognised, was an unpardonable insult.
But the expression on Schneizel's face did not change, and neither did his voice. "I need him elsewhere," he answered steadily, "just as I need you here."
"But I'm not–"
A little gasp of surprise put and end to his sentence as the prince kissed him, lips against lips. Suzaku tensed, and then tried not to sigh in relief as realisation caught up with him and tension melted from his muscles. He was still not sure where he stood now, what was the state of their relationship, but when the fingers under his chin slipped beneath his collar, stroking his neck in a languid motion, he learned to ignore these more trivial things in favour of just feeling.
The prince's eyes were brighter when they parted, as warm and indulging as their close proximity. His lips were tingling with the aftertaste of pleasure and Suzaku closed his eyes as the hand climbed to his chin, tracing the line of his jaw, a thumb resting against his lower lip. He could feel the faint caress of desire, its scent sweet and intoxicating, and quickly becoming much too overpowering that he simply surrendered when the prince led his mouth into another dance.
"You need to stop judging yourself," Schneizel said, softly, but with a hint of steel beneath the self-possessed tone. And then he pulled away, just far enough to regard his knight with a pensive gaze. "Or is it actually me whom you wish to judge?"
Suzaku swallowed, scavenging just enough strength to push a reply past his lips. "What could possibly be the charge, Your Highness?" he asked quietly.
"My inability to protect you."
The point-blank answer locked him in a stunned silence, until he managed a small, shaky smile. "Shouldn't it work the other way around, sire, for I am the knight?" he said, his voice a pitiful echo of something far more powerful.
"Not in this case," Schneizel said decisively and his hand was now tilting Suzaku's chin, holding it in place. "Our oath, Lord Kururugi, is a two-way road."
Suzaku fought against an urge to lower his eyes or in any way look away from that piercing gaze. He knew only too well what the older man was referring to, those protections and privileges one earned in return for one's devotion. But he didn't think it would have mattered – there was no one who could go against the emperor, and the prince had too much at stake to start defying his father at this point. He was just one of the many pawns tangled in this intricate mess, and his value stopped at the range of his service, nothing more.
"It does not matter," he finally answered – a defeated whisper. Schneizel's eyes hardened and his fingers were now an iron clamp on his knight's face.
"You may dismiss many things, Suzaku," the prince said, "but not the violation to your person."
"What would Your Highness have me do?" he blurted out and turned around fully to face the older man, his voice shrill with long-suppressed anger and despair. "What other choice did I have? I could not refuse. Not if I still want to stay in His Majesty's court."
The silence was painful, mostly because he knew there was no answer to his question – none that could make it any less painful. Between the devil and the demon, there was no lesser evil, only two paths ahead and an obligation to choose.
"Your job description does not include this," the prince said quietly. Suzaku looked at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Protecting the interest of my lord? Yes, it does."
There wasn't a moment's pause when his chin was suddenly released and the same hand pressed his face against the older man's chest. Suzaku blinked, feeling the hot sting in his eyes, and wondered whether it was something his face couldn't help but give away or the glimpse of that raw pain he had caught in his lord's expression. What he did know was that he had screwed up. Badly. So bad, in fact, that they had reached this stage and were unable to turn back.
"Not that far." It was a quiet whisper that stirred fine strands of hair on the top of his head, thrumming the strings of his heart as another arm came around his back and held him closer. "Never that far."
Suzaku bit his tongue to keep his silence. He wanted to say something about it being his duty, but knew that it would make no difference at this point. They could not return to where they had been before, not with this thing with the emperor hanging between them like a debt of blood, an eternal seal of silence. He tried to bury his face deeper, to revel in the feeling of being held in his prince's arms, but could only think of Kreindler, and the emperor, and everything they had done – everything he had let himself do.
"It was my decision," he murmured quietly – and couldn't help but love the way his voice was muffled by the smooth fabric of Schneizel's coat.
"Without my permission?" came the reply, low and dangerous.
"I…" Suzaku faltered, washed over by a jumble of thoughts and emotions. His right hand came up to grasp his lord's arm, an impulse born from need, because no matter how close they were right now, he still felt that they were drifting farther apart. He swallowed and tried again, "Of course it will only be proper if Your Highness gives his permission…"
"Do you want me to?"
He looked up, stunned, as the older man released him just as easily and now was regarding him quietly, face expressionless. The question echoed in his head, lost in the cacophony of many others it had stirred.
"It doesn't have anything to do with want," he finally said, his voice trembling. Why were they even discussing this?
A slight pause, and then a smile curved the prince's lips, and there was certain tightness about it, like the faraway look in his eyes, that twisted Suzaku's stomach painfully. "Then there should never have been any question about permission," Schneizel said, turning away from him. He returned behind his desk, once more the proud king that he was, always calm, always in control, and he left his knight to unravel the knots alone.
Suzaku closed his eyes and crushed the beginning of hurt under his heels. It was a very peculiar dance, this, loving a prince who wielded power as skilfully as a master swordsman did his blade. Countless rules and restrictions, duties and circumstances – minding his every step and turn, loving only when he was allowed to love, bowing his head in silence when he was not. He used to have a very different conception about love, how it was supposed to liberate, not confine – and he had found that experience with Euphie, as brief as the moment had lasted. It was almost the exact opposite with Schneizel and yet he couldn't escape, this strange union of heaven and hell when the prince kissed and made love to him, because nothing had ever felt as agonising as it was beautiful.
Time marched on, regardless. He breathed in deeply when the intercom hummed and Claire's voice came in through the link, announcing that she had brought Lord Vandewalle. The prince beckoned him to come closer with a glance and a flick of fingers, and then gave his permission.
It was different than just looking at a photograph. Jacques had been right about the man looking unfriendly, but to stand actually in his presence gave him a slightly different impression. Lord Vandewalle, Suzaku decided, was everything his lord had described – a remarkable soldier, a brilliant commander, the very finest of knights. He listened in respectful silence as they exchanged pleasantries, his gaze never leaving the guest and yet never meeting his eyes either.
"I believe you have yet to meet my knight," the prince finally turned toward him.
"I haven't had the pleasure," Lord Vandewalle replied and Suzaku steeled himself, aware of the glint of appraisal in the other man's eyes. He stepped forward and took the offered hand, allowing the barest hint of a smile to grace his lips as he returned every polite remark. He didn't miss the slight frown on the stern face, or the hint of displeasure in the grim set of his mouth as those eyes swept a careful gaze upon his figure.
Lord Vandewalle, he surmised solemnly, didn't like him very much.
"Now, perhaps you will tell me the real purpose of your coming here?" the prince spoke again, drawing the attention of his two servants back to him.
The older knight did not waste time with pretence. He straightened up to stand in the most correct attitude and answered readily, "Three days ago, we came across certain information which might be important if it turned out to be true. However, we could not afford the risk of apprising Your Highness through any means of communication other than in a direct, face-to-face meeting for security reasons."
Schneizel nodded, accepting his explanation, and waved for him to continue. Suzaku caught the swift glance sent in his direction, but stood unflinching as his prince had said nothing in opposition of his presence. Lord Vandewalle seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion, and then continued in a stonier voice.
"It is about the Order of the Black Knight, Sir."
--
The next half-an-hour was a blur to him.
Suzaku couldn't really describe how he felt. It was such a surreal experience, to stand there and listen as theories and evidences of the resurrection of the Black Knight Order were submitted to his lord, despite the awful certainty he had been clinging to in the past whole year that he had killed their leader. It was like pausing at the edge of the dream, looking at both sides and unable to decide which was real. There was no definite proof yet, Lord Vandewalle said gravely, but they were fairly certain that Zero was alive.
Zero was alive.
Lelouch was alive.
Lord Vandewalle went on, explaining a few encounters they had had with what they presumed to be the extension of the Black Knight Order, but Suzaku hardly processed any word. A part of him was besieged by guilt, because despite everything, there was relief, caught in the stitches of long forgotten summer days. He was relieved that he hadn't been guilty of killing his friend, and for some reasons it disgusted him. The rest sank into his heart with the crushing weight of emptiness, a heavy, blank void of nothing, and he asked himself where the happiness was – his old friend is alive – or the scorching anger – Euphie's murderer is alive – or whether they had overwhelmed each other so much that all left for him was the torn, ravaged field of ruins.
He glanced up, noting the pensive look on his prince's face, and thought of the stories he had built around his last encounter with Zero. They were not exactly lies, but the fact that he had withheld the secret behind the terrorist's mask from the prince seemed much more significant now that the person in question was apparently still alive. It was a grave error on his part, and one which might not be so easily forgiven, and with the current state of their relationship…
"The Order of the Black Knight." The prince was leaning into his chair, a thoughtful frown faintly creasing his brow. "And you are as certain as you can be?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
A few seconds of meditative silence followed, and then Schneizel asked again, "Have you reported this to the emperor?"
"These are all mere speculations, my lord, and one surely cannot come to His Majesty with nothing but speculations. There is no substantial proof, not even a flimsy one which is free of any ambiguity."
"There rarely is, unless it is too late," the prince said mildly and his gaze remained astute on one of his must trusted servants. Lord Vandewalle returned it with a steadfast look of his own.
"I am a member of the Camulos Knight," he answered carefully, but with a clear resonance of decisiveness beneath the overtone of his voice, "and a man proud of what he is."
There was a slight pause, during which Suzaku found himself trying to decipher everything which had just transpired – and earning a cold shiver down his spine as the result, a strange mix of pride and something much uglier. And then his master smiled, both eloquent and noncommittal at the same time.
"Is there anything else?"
"No, my lord."
Schneizel nodded, still with the same equivocal smile. "Thank you, Alaric. I assume you will be joining us for the rest of the journey?"
"Yes, Your Highness," the reply was delivered without hesitation, although Suzaku sensed the sharp gaze flitting to his direction for a brief second, an almost challenge to his authority. "Eight of us in total, for I fear that there may be certain parties which are interested in preventing your return to Area 11. The rest are staying behind for the same reason."
This explanation was duly accepted and Lord Vandewalle proceeded to excuse himself from the office, leaving the weight of his news hovering above their head. A drape of emptiness fell across the room, the solid mist which detached him from the prince despite their physical closeness.
"What do you think?"
Suzaku tore his gaze away from the wall and met his lord's eyes with a blank look. Obviously it would not do to say that he was somewhat hopeful of the possibility that he hadn't killed the prince's long-lost brother. There might be an appropriate time for this confession, as doubtful as he was on the issue, but it was certainly not now.
"As far as assumptions go, it seems to be a correct one," he finally said, opting for caution in the safe choice of answer.
"And their leader?"
Suzaku fought against the urge to show more than he was supposed to. "It's still too early to say," he said dully, ignoring the numbness growing inside him. He was getting really good at this. "Of course there's the possibility of an impostor, as Zero conveniently wears a mask."
Schneizel's gaze, when it came to rest fully on him, was riddled with genuine curiosity. "You were the last person who saw him alive."
Suzaku bit his lips. "Yes."
And he still remembered nothing past that.
End
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