Lorraine eyed his fellow peers suspiciously, with their bright smiles plastered on their faces, and the looks of fear that were erased when the now non hostile villagers greeted them carefully. His bright red bangs swept freely in his eyes, and as he was about to move them away, the soft tips of nails brushed his skin, causing his eyes to flutter. He looked down alarmingly, the red curtains revealing a young maiden, not much older than sixteen. She jerked away, a slight blush creeping on her skin. "S-sorry," she whimpered.
"No," he said hastily. "It…it was I who reacted so violently. Please, forgive me." Back then, the chivalrous display would've earned him a humiliating beating from the captain. He didn't know, after all, what girls the captain was sleeping with, nor did he have any right to touch the man's servants. Traitorous leech, was what he would say, leaving Lorraine to ponder at his actions.
But now, everything seemed to flip over, as though he were stranded in some parallel world. What was frowned upon was suddenly alright; it was an odd sight, to not see the people running away from them, though he welcomed the pleasantries they exchanged every morning, and it was indeed strange, to find that he'd become one the Courts' most eligible bachelors, all due to his simple kindness and whatnot. His comrades were already congratulating him on such an achievement, no matter how hard he tried dispelling their jealous attitudes.
As of this moment, he and a few other guards were in front of what once was Titania's manor. The intimidating edifice was enough to send shivers up his spine, as he was continually reminded of what had happened that night. It still sickened him when the image of his commander's penis dangled from the Viceroy's fingers…but in the end, it got everyone on track. He hasn't heard a word from the commander (he didn't know the man's name) since, so it was presumed that she had him executed. However, when his eyes caught the sight of a stumbling man, who was after a quickly proceeding carriage, he tried to rub away his shock.
The commander…was a servant.
The lass curtsied rapidly, giving him a quick smile before running to meet the long line of maids gathered near the gardens. He felt Nathaniel nudge him jokingly. "She'd make a good wife, you know."
"Shut it," he snapped, his tone humorous.
It'd been a while since Guinevere had taken over. He'd lost count of the days since her brutal conquest. Many soldiers had been contemplating overthrowing the new Viceroy and establishing their own regime, though no one acted dared act on such ballistic impulses. They, unlike he, were present on the day Titania had her heart ripped out.
But what secured their loyalties to Morgan li Britannia was the fact that Titania was even more hated than she. The old queen had granted concessions to corruption within the Courts, and even encouraged it, as she flamboyantly flaunted her relationship with Arthur several times over. The commander greedily ate from those palms, and in return, he vowed never to lift a hand against the queen. The former aristocracies agreed to Titania's requests as well; they'd do anything, as long as they kept their titles and wealth. They'd even acquiesced to being slaves if it meant they could live their luxurious lives to the fullest extent. No one, not even the soldiers, had any part in the abundance.
Morgan, however, had changed that profoundly. She was a radical, as everyone had taken to describe her. Within a week, she forcefully drilled Guinevere's proclamations into a makeshift constitution, and required everyone abide by the rules, or suffer a long and painful death. It wasn't as bad as it sounded; she allotted them traditional rights, so much so many considered her too liberal. But no one complained; it was how they were able to maintain this content attitude.
No one was dying anymore; the Unseelie Courts, apparently, weren't as primitive as everyone thought they'd be. In fact, it might've been the other way around. Their counterparts managed to establish an orderly society, in which intellectuals flourished and opinions were loudly spoken. Compared to Guinevere's rule, Titania was merely ruined trash found near the side of a grief-stricken road. No one had spoken a word against Arthur's lover, nor the Viceroy. They were lucky Morgan implemented the current system to their own.
He stood, arms down, eyes front, as the maid fluidly opened the door for the Viceroy and the Queen. They were both as lovely as always; Morgan had bright green hair and fiery gold eyes, similar to that of Titania. She even had the same creamy complexion; there wasn't a blemish on that beautiful skin. However, underneath the facade she carried a dark humbleness, something that could only be gained from watching many horrific deaths repeatedly. She might've had more experience than he when it came to the battlefield. She was dressed in a dark purple dress, one with an extended back. Her legs glistened as she glided through the doors.
Guinevere, on the other hand, had soft, pink hair that curled to the edge of her waist. It shined like silk, and whenever she walked by, he could smell the roses in her hair, even from this distance. Her cool, lavender eyes sparkled in the midst of her innocence. It was a trait that made everyone want to protect her, though he knew she was fully capable of destroying the enemy. She wore her same, white dress. Nathaniel nodded; he recognized it from the day she came to the Seelie Courts. The material wasn't in tatters like it was, nor was it stained with blood; the pristine cloth revealed many pearls decorated at the hem; her back showed the intertwining lace, followed by a flowing curtain that made the queen look like she had wings.
The servants, of course, all bowed gratefully. "Welcome back, your Majesty," they said simultaneously. Morgan stopped, her eyes brimming with annoyance. "You need not do that. Return to your stations," she ordered. They scampered off after a few moments. Her eyes turned to Lorraine's, and nodded at him. Stay here, was what that usually meant.
Guinevere chuckled softly. "They really are well trained."
"They are," Morgan replied. "They still need to be accustomed to certain rules. They're doing much better though."
"Do you believe they can provide for the Courts?"
"As a standing army?" Morgan asked, as the two women walked toward Lorraine. The soldier's eyes caught a brief shadow from the carriage, before turning back to the fairies. The figure looked familiar, but he brushed it aside in favor of Guinevere's wandering eyes. He fought to keep himself from trembling. "I doubt it, but they're good in defense. For now, they'll only be used to keep the peace."
"You're doing a good job then," Guinevere said, putting her fingers in front of the soldier's face. Lorraine blinked when she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, causing her to giggle. Morgan scolded the queen for doing so. "I'm sorry. They're just so stern. Don't you let them have any fun?"
The Viceroy huffed. "Sure I do. I let them sleep, don't I?"
"I'm really sorry for her behavior," Guinevere continued. "You're doing a wonderful job. We couldn't have done this without you."
"N-not at all, y-your Majesty," Lorraine stammered, refusing to believe that the queen of the courts was conversing informally with him. She must have another reason for such behavior! Was she looking for any weakness in the ranks? Was she trying to find new victims to execute, just to prove her power? Though she'd shown great kindness to them, it still made no sense for her-
"Leave the poor creature alone," Morgan said, gripping the queen's arm. Lorraine's mouth was slightly ajar; did the two have any sense of rank at all? Were they close? He felt her golden eyes upon him. "Continue with your work." With that, she practically dragged Guinevere away from him, though to her credit, she slowed her pace so that the queen would regain her balance. He couldn't hear what the two were saying. It was all just whispers and giggles from then on.
Nathaniel was relentless with his teasing, as was the rest of the crew. However, Lorraine could tell they all felt uncomfortable around the queen, yet at the same time, they remarked at how easily it was to feel relaxed in her presence. She wasn't at all like Morgan; she had a more benevolent aura. A few even wanted to leave Morgan's service in favor for the queen's. The ambition fell when they were all summoned to the throne room. As usual, they adhered to the Viceroy's demands.
Standing there in their normal positions, the entire army came marching forth. They were small, compared to other nations, but they were still very disciplined, and because of Guinevere's kindness, technologically advanced as well. Lorraine, as well as Nathaniel and his force, stood at the front. Guinevere was standing patiently, as if waiting for the room to settle. A few more shuffles, then silence. Morgan was beside the throne.
Guinevere smiled, and congratulated everyone for their hard work. "I was pleased with the things I've seen, and I ask to continue with your efforts."
"Yes, your Majesty," they all said.
"Now, if I may, I have one more task I need you to fulfill." She said in her sweet voice. She appeared more angelic than anything else; that was what perhaps convinced Lorraine and the rest to agree to her orders. The queen peered down, and held out her hand. She gestured someone to come forth.
The figure sauntered forward. Lorraine stole a look behind him, and saw a man, maybe a bit younger than the queen, standing before him. He had dark brown hair, with amethyst eyes that reminded Lorraine of Guinevere's. However, somehow, they seemed more open, those eyes. They looked as if they were taking the world around it, and using those new perspectives…for something. His pale skin matched Guinevere's and Morgan's. He immediately felt at ease in the boy's presence; there was a kind of naiveté that came with his tall, lanky frame. Was he open with his motives? Could Lorraine tell what this stranger was going to do easily? He'd hope so.
The boy was dressed in black pants, with a silver chain in the pocket, and a black glove on his left hand. He wore a simple, white shirt, with black straps over his arms. A black feather hung from the tip of his hair, on the left side. A vertical line crossed his left eye, making him appear to be some sort of fool. The boy noticed how Lorraine stared at him, and gave him a small smile. He waited until Guinevere put her arm down, to which he maneuvered himself to Morgan's side. Guinevere took a deep breath, before beginning again. "This is Mordred li Britannia. He will act as my permanent representative in these Courts, and will report to me if anything is amiss. He will also help direct military activities. Understood?"
"Yes, your Majesty!" they shouted, eager to please the new queen. Half the soldiers gazed curiously at the seemingly kind stranger. Representative? But he was so young!
Still, Mordred came forward and bowed. Respect radiated from his position, his eyes fixed to the ground. Was he as nervous as they? "I am Mordred, a fool to her Highness Euphemia. A pleasure to meet you."
Lelouch stretched out lazily on the couch in C.C's room. His legs were tired from standing all day, and he was bored out of his mind, searching for anything he could do to alleviate the disease. All he ever did was watch the witch perform her duties with perfect accuracy, and though at times he tried to ignore the stares, sometimes, he couldn't help but come up to the soldiers and ask them trivial questions. He never understood it; they were flustered and confused whenever he treated them in such a manner.
He blinked when C.C came back into the room, the dark blob contrasting sharply to the golden rays of the room. "Good job," he said sarcastically.
"I thought you'd be happy with this arrangement," she said smugly, plopping herself on the large, fluffy mattress. The feathers flew everywhere, and it was because of the white that Lelouch caught sight of a dying iris sitting on the windowsill, the open glass allowing the wind to blow briefly. He scoffed. "Like I'd ever be, witch."
"Bored already?"
"Euphie's been keeping secrets, hasn't she?"
C.C leaned against the soft covers, turning her body so that she would face her partner. Though she didn't want to admit it, she had found it strange that Euphie would send Lelouch here, even with the excuse of protecting him. Her gradual change was too rapid; even Charles took time to immerse himself in his eventual insanity, as did Marianne. "I know," she said quietly.
"C.C, while I was away, what had Euphie been doing?"
"She'd been taking care of domestic issues," C.C answered automatically. Lelouch wasn't convinced. "C.C-"
"You didn't let me finish," the witch stated. "She'd been taking care of domestic issues, as well as subjecting Arthur."
"What'd she do?" he asked.
C.C closed her eyes, remembering all the past conversations they had. Fortunately, Lisette hadn't been near. "She's been trying out new enchantments, things that'll help her get her mind back."
"What'd you mean?"
"Lately…she's been thinking about murdering you. Me as well."
The two stared a stunned silence. C.C buried herself in the sheets, as she contemplated on the memories she's seen. When Euphie had been sleeping one night, she came into her room and took a look inside her memories.
Her mind was a pathetic mess. It was in shambles, sharply differing from the strong brain she and Lelouch had encountered before. Her motives were all but gone, and her desperate wish to get stronger clung to the rapidly fading light. Her soul grappled onto C.C's presence like a lifeboat, crying for her to save it, save it from the despair that threatened to push it under. When its pleas were done, and it fell once more to crimson, C.C would catch glimpses of the aftermath of war, corpses dancing to the Macabre tune. She was one of them.
And Lelouch wore white, was what she remembered. He was bleeding profusely, with black slowly engulfing his veins. The bodies danced around him, as the fairies had done with their beloved fires. She watched as he crumpled to the ground, his vivid eyes falling to the melodies. He trembled, the wires trapping him inside its iron grip. Why C.C was still dancing, she would never know. It seemed like there would've been more, but Euphie was beginning to wake.
C.C would never forget that wicked smile on Euphie's face.
"What?" was all that escaped from Lelouch's lips. She nodded. "Perhaps…perhaps this was a way of protecting the both of us. I believe she's had these visions…ever since the Seelie Courts came under our control."
"C.C, I've…been conversing with Arthur."
Surprise illuminated in her face. It was him? He had been visiting Arthur?
Had Euphie suspected him? But it would make sense; Lelouch would probably have been the only other person besides her who could've weakened the barrier. Still, it didn't stop C.C from lifting her head, malice in her eyes. "Why?" she sneered, though she caught the hurt in her voice.
And much to her astonishment, he looked away. "Euphie's been worrying me," he confessed. "And since neither of us knew what we were dealing with, I decided to go to Arthur instead."
"Lelouch, he's lying-"
"C.C, it makes sense," he replied. "Magic is made of memories, and Arthur's memories were extremely traumatic. I wouldn't have blamed him for becoming the way he had."
Though C.C was in no mood to sympathize with her abuser, her pride had already been dissolved to make way for this new knowledge. It was a technique she learned from the time she was given the Code. She bit her lip. "How do we know we can trust him?"
"He isn't lying," Lelouch stated. "What purpose would there be in him lying, besides turning us against one another?"
"Do you think he knows about Euphie?"
"I didn't tell him anything." he said. "I doubt he'd listen to me if I said her name."
That did sound like Arthur, living in his own illusions. The king refused to have anything to do with reality, so much so he never progressed from childhood. An obvious reason why Euphie was able to remove him. There was little chance he could do anything to Lelouch either, seeing as how all his magic was taken away. C.C saw to that.
But what if the magic was poisoned?
She mentally shuddered at the thought. Euphie would become like her other contractors, a mindless slave to the demands of her power. The magic, she figured, was a lot stronger than Geass, so it was a miracle that Euphie held on for as long as she did. Of course, the witch was just beginning to put this together. However, it was her own emotions that disturbed C.C the most. Lately, she'd become more lively, carefree. Her feelings were alive and well, she knew that much.
But to what extent? Had she really become so blinded with hatred as to not see Euphie's degradation? Was it too late to save the queen?
"Right now," C.C said slowly, "it's her desire to protect you that's keeping her from going over the edge. Suzaku is nothing more than an empty promise now, though she still loves him dearly."
"Does anyone know about this?" Lelouch asked.
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Then there's a slim chance she'll let me near her," he continued.
C.C closed her eyes. With the exception of Nunnally, Euphie had been Lelouch's closest sibling. She was kind and caring, evident in her rash actions during the SAZ establishment. She'd been a wonderful ruler, and had been the closest thing to a real, female friend (Kallen didn't count, seeing as C.C saw the pilot as a sort of plaything). It would be a shame to lose her to the madness that was once Arthur's.
C.C sat up, determination gripping her body. "Lelouch, I'm sorry."
He laughed emptily. "It's not like you to apologize like that witch."
"I'm asking for you to stay here while Euphie's in power."
She watched his head move up, meeting her with disbelieving eyes. "And what will you do while I'm sitting here, helpless in my sister's kingdom?"
"I'll find a way to help Euphie. I fear that anymore contact from you will make her worse."
"I…see," he whispered with quiet resignation. "However, I will still carry out Euphie's assignments. I'll go to Arthur if necessary."
"I rather you didn't do that," C.C warned. "Her powers are growing; it won't be long before she can sense you in the Unseelie Courts."
"Then I'll just sneak through while she's sleeping," Lelouch said defiantly. "Surely she can't control everything while she's unconscious."
"So…you expect to help her while you're in this position?" Well, he was always stubborn, and that pigheadedness proved successful a few times, if any at all. C.C didn't like the persistence in his gaze; it made her give into whatever he was asking for. It made her think that he must've had some good reason for his actions, however stupid they may seem at first. She stood up, her heels echoing from the marble floor. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"
He stood as well, walking toward the iris on the windowsill. "C.C…she's my sister. If I can't be there for Nunnally, I can at least help Euphie." He looked up at the sky and smirked. "Besides, it was your idea, wasn't it? I wanted to send her back."
She chuckled, letting herself fall on his back. "Well, you've got a place to stay, don't you?"
"I suppose you're right."
She pressed herself against his warmth, her eyes staring at the broken iris in the glass. Unknowingly, she reached out, and knocked the flower from his hands. Lelouch spun around in alarm, though C.C ended up buried in his chest instead. She didn't move, her legs refusing to obey the quiet voice in the back of her skull. She liked his warmth; it reminded her of the toy she was missing. His scent was familiar too.
Lelouch's eyes softened. "You're…really worried about Euphie, aren't you?"
"I'm just tired. That's all."
"You're assistants aren't doing much." He took a piece of her hair and examined the ends. She felt herself shaking her head. "They're busy too. There's a lot of desk work that needs to be done…"
"That's just like you witch. Making me do all your work," she heard him grumble. A slight smile played on her lips. His body shifted a bit; he just sat down. His arms never came around her, though she felt like they would.
Maybe she pressed a bit too hard, for when she did, Lelouch suddenly disappeared. A gasp escaped from his throat, and by the time she opened her eyes, she could only see his flailing legs out the window. She stared a moment, before rushing forward, his name caught with the panic in her chest. Lelouch had fallen out of the window. Her window.
And crash landed on those soldiers.
Kallen was alone that night in the former ghettos. The progress was rapid, a reflection of the new world order. The view from the rooftop was simply amazing, though the building itself was abandoned. She remembered how quietly her commander descended on her, calling out "Q-1" as Lelouch would when she was getting ready for an assault. She remembered turning, finding Zero standing there, costume and all.
Before he could say anything, she reported all that had happened that night. Titania, he being Lancelot, the Seelie Courts…everything. She spoke so quickly, she didn't know if the man had any time to digest what she'd said. However, when she was done, his silence spoke volumes. It took Zero a couple of moments to respond back with an "It's true."
Kallen was devastated, to say the least. Lelouch had been keeping secrets from her all this time, and even now, she didn't know what to do, what to say. Mordred li Britannia was a strong indicator of fraud, or even a scandal the Black Knights had no right knowing about. It put Britannia's alliances with the UFN in jeopardy; there is, after all, a chance that the Demon Emperor could still be alive.
Or a remainder of Alfheimr no one knew about.
She gripped her fists and asked him who he was, why he lied to them. He retired and said, "I did nothing of the sort."
"How do you know her then?" she asked quietly.
"A series of unfortunate circumstances. Anyways, I came to tell you that you have a mission."
She asked him why he couldn't have waited.
"This is important. I couldn't risk anyone else finding out about it."
She inquired about Lancelot, and in her joyous relief, she found that he had no idea what Titania was talking about. Though he loved poetry, he said, he never commanded the white Knightmare Lancelot. The pilot had been dead for a long time.
To add to her scorned pride, he walked up to her, and asked her worriedly if she was ready to take on such a responsibility. She managed a positive reply. He then asked her about the picture she saw.
"We found it in Tokyo," she remembered explaining. "Titania had said his name was Mordred li Britannia. Zero-"
She didn't remember much after that. The whole thing was a blur.
And now, somehow, she was standing there in front of the commander, along with the rest of the Zero Squad. Her eyes had taken apart the determination Zero felt, but were widened with surprise when he told them not to engage with the enemy. They were to wait for his orders, and of course, they all agreed.
One of the soldiers asked when they were to be deployed.
Zero answered within the next month. There was much preparation to be made for this mission until then. The eerie edict made Kallen shiver. What purpose would they have in a foreign nation, when there was so much work to be done here? Did Nunnally know about this? Did any of the UFN nations know?
The obvious answer would've been yes.