Chapter 6: Fallen Eminence

Was his mind intact? Well, if it wasn't, he wouldn't be able to ask that question. Unless . . . overanalyzing was a byproduct of insanity.

Orpheus realized that he had awoken on a soft bed instead of a cold stone floor like he had expected, though he felt a tightness around his neck that he was quick to recognize as some sort of collar.

Pushing himself up, Orpheus glanced around the small yet still quite gaudy guest bedroom he had been given and only then realized how thirsty he was. Shamna had obviously known he would be dehydrated after her drug had caused him to sweat so profusely, so a pitcher of water and a bowl of some kind of salty confection was ready for the prisoner to consume. He didn't hesitate to pour himself a glass and begin munching on the strange, woven snack of grains. He was so hungry he swore he could eat the entire bowl right away, but he knew he should pace himself.

After his third piece of the cylindrical crackers and gulp of water, Orpheus was interrupted by the door to his room opening. In stepped Shamna in a green outfit that was significantly more revealing than her usual attire. She was flanked by two of her personal guards, who bowed in greeting as one held a towel and the other a traditionally designed Zilkhistanian bathing loincloth for their "guest."

Orpheus caught his breath after finishing his first glass of water and scowled in the queen's direction. "It looks like I won, Your Majesty. Such a shame you couldn't have your way with me."

Shamna let out a laugh that was simultaneously flirtatious and wicked as she brushed the side of her hair with the back of her hand in a seductive pose. "I will eventually, Love. You are a formidable challenge I will enjoy breaking when the time comes. But I also want to remind you of my ultimate intentions for you. Sex is a fleeting moment of passion that blends in with the more important accomplishments in life. But the lifelong bond between a man and a woman—that is a pleasure I have finally decided to make real. I have considered many suitors over the last few years, but most of them were either repugnant or as boring as any other rich heir naturally is. You, on the other hand, are a unique and gorgeous specimen I have only seen in my wildest dreams. A daring freedom fighter who turned rogue because the sins of his own family hurt him so dearly. Every aspect of your life is exciting. What kind of burdens are you carrying on your shoulders despite remaining such an upstanding young man? The idea titillates me to no end. You are an intriguing case of danger and romance, Zevon. I want that in my husband more than anything else."

"Tuh! Wouldn't Lelouch be a more suitable match for you?" Orpheus retorted with a scowl. "I'm sure you'd both enjoy massacring millions while—dmmmmmm!" He shouldn't have been so careless. He had already surmised that the collar around his neck was a shock collar. Shamna waved a small remote around for him to see to remind him that she was in control.

"Watch yourself, Love," she warned him with a mockingly pleasant smile. "I do find him most appealing, as well, but so directly comparing me with a genuine madman shows that you know very little about me or my country. During your time here, I hope I can educate you about our culture and why we operate the way we do. If I chose Lelouch as my king, he would assimilate all that we are into his own and our identity would be lost. Plus . . . he does cross limits that I personally consider unethical."

"Oh, so you do ha—Um . . ." Orpheus swallowed when he realized that she was preparing to press the shock button again, and he clammed up tight to avoid making any more snarky remarks.

"Eat and drink as much as you need to, and then my attendants will personally bathe you before we eat our mid-day lunch."

Orpheus's nearly empty stomach growled at the mention of filling, nutritious food, and he began to eagerly anticipate the meal. But then his mind began to drift as he thought of the bath that would come beforehand. The cool water washing away the uncomfortable, smelly sweat from his body and rejuvenating him. The beautiful, full-bodied, scantily-clad women expertly scrubbing him down with-

"Wait, I—What?"

"Enjoy the pampering, Orpheus," Shamna said her farewell as she turned to leave the room. "We will be getting back down to business once you are rested enough. That means true pain this time. Your mind is an amazing steel trap that relents to absolutely nothing, no matter how hot it is driven. But can the same be said about your body?" She blew him a kiss and flipped her hair before finally leaving the room, and the prisoner was left with the two unreasonably gorgeous guards who seemed a little too eager to wash this toned and exceptionally desirable young man.

"Please, finish your starter course and we will be off to prepare you for the meal," the one on the left addressed him with a bow. "We will wait until you are done."

Orpheus looked at them strangely, off-put by how intently they were staring at him. They must not get very much time to themselves with good-looking young men. . . .

Swallowing his nervousness, Orpheus ate and drank as much as he could until he was certain that his salt and water levels had returned to normal, all the while uncomfortably aware of how the girls were not hiding their admiring glances over him. If he wasn't here for such nefarious purposes, he would think he was in paradise.

Standing up, he addressed the one who was holding the loincloth and extended a hand. "If you don't mind, I would like some privacy to cha—Eh?!" The other attendant had pulled his pants down without a hint of hesitation, and before he could protest, they were off along with his undergarment and almost immediately replaced with the bath covering—almost immediately. He stood there, completely red-faced as they pulled on his hands to lead him out of the room, their anticipation to clean him almost creepy with its enthusiasm.

"Come along, Honored One," the one who was still carrying his towel invited him. "Milady will be waiting."

Orpheus paused and thought about what that must mean. "W-Wait—she will . . . uh . . ."

"We are authorized to bring you by force should you resist," she reminded him in a voice that was still far too pleasant for the current circumstances. "We would prefer that you cooperate. We are not going to hurt you, after all."

"Th-That's not what I'm afraid of," Opheus admitted with a nervous chuckle while he was pulled out the door. He had briefly thought of knocking them out as long as Shamna was out of the room, but she would just be able to subdue him with the shock collar as soon as he was found out. So he braved the embarrassment that he was sure to face and allowed himself to be led to the ridiculously and unnecessarily spacious bath that would be better suited for public use. Four more of the beautiful guards were stationed very near the place where he was being set to be washed, and every one of them was clearly just as taken by him as the queen was, betraying their stoic and dutiful vigilance with some extremely girlish giggles. His collar was unlocked so he could sit down in the water and his neck could be scrubbed, and he was once again tempted to make a break for it. But he reminded himself that these women, despite being stunningly beautiful, were trained to be quick and agile and were undoubtedly just as strong as they looked. He would be lying on the floor with stars in his eyes from a blow from one of their staffs in two seconds flat.

So, sighing in defeat, he allowed himself to begin the bathing process. One of his attendants began lathering up his back, shoulders, and neck with a sweet, natural-smelling soap, massaging them in a way that was a tad too sensuous. She was obviously enjoying this even more than he was.

Now completely relaxed and frankly in a state of bliss, Orpheus barely heard the sound of bare feet padding across the rustic tilework and getting in the spacious tub next to him. "Enjoying yourself, Orpheus?" the queen asked him craftily as she inched a little bit closer.

"Don't forget you're still going to torture me after this, witch," he reminded her haughtily. "If you want to break me so badly, why are you giving me this special treatment?"

"Because I would prefer to not need to, Love. I do want to get to know you. That includes your darker secrets."

Orpheus scoffed. "Even if they could potentially throw the world into even deeper chaos? You couldn't break me when my mind was literally going crazy, Shamna. You have an even worse chance of succeeding in an environment like this."

"Oh, I think not." She saddled up directly next to him and grabbed his arm. As expected, she pressed it into the side of her breast, and it took all of Orpheus's willpower to not leap out of the water right then and there. "Think of it, Orpheus: While Lelouch holds the mask of power, we would be the true face of it. You can finally right the wrongs that you have been fighting so hard over the last several years—and finally get revenge on your selfish family."

Orpheus sighed and allowed himself to sink deeper into a state of tranquility from the massage, steadily blocking the queen out. "I don't care about revenge anymore, Shamna. All I want is justice."

"But in the case of a despotic empire, is there really such a distinction?"

"Ask Lady Krushevsky."

Shamna chuckled and only drew closer to him so that they were literally sitting side-by-side. "I find it most amusing that you would be so loyal to a girl you hardly know and is fighting on the exact opposite side as you," she remarked, resting her chin on his shoulder so their faces were almost touching now.

Orpheus suppressed a shudder as she once again traced circles around his chest. This couldn't get any more uncomfortable. . . . "She fights on a separate branch among the Britannian forces," Orpheus reasoned fondly. "Maybe she is naively ideological with her belief that Britannia can one day be a place for all races to live in harmony, but even a foolish ideal harbors a seed for a genuine cause. I admire that in her. That potential is something which is extremely rare among my people."

"And . . . what if you had been able to go on your date? What was your true intention for courting her?"

Orpheus couldn't hold back his smile. She was extremely perceptive. No wonder her country had one of the highest GNP's despite their lack of resources. "Like I said: There is a seed for a genuine cause in there. Plus, her beauty is undeniable. Few men would be able to pass her up if the opportunity presented itself."

"Well then-" Shamna began gently stroking the side of his face with her finger nail, causing his entire body to tense up anxiously. "-what if I could negotiate her freedom from Lelouch? Keep in mind I do not mean she would be free to go where she pleases. Her service to me would be the condition for her release. And . . . I am sure you are aware that polygamy is legal in Zilkhistan."

Orpheus's eyes snapped open and he looked at her with a frown. Of all the reprehensible bribes! "You should know by now that I am not so easily swayed by carnal temptations, Shamna. She isn't going to be my unwilling doll just because I fear for her safety. She is a Knight of the Round—courageous and noble. I know that she can withstand any horrors that Lelouch forces her to endure."

"Hmhm." Shamna leaned on the edge of the bath so she could strike a confident pose—and to show her body off to him more. "Yes . . . She is a courageous and noble female Knight of the Round. A pure maiden of magnificent radiance in the clutches of a maddened emperor who suffers from psychopathy, narcissism, PTSD, and abandonment. She would make an excellent companion for such a poor, lonely individual. If he hasn't had his way with her yet, how long do you think it will be before he gives into his obvious desires and takes her for himself? How humiliating for the poor girl! Oh, but so romantic—much like us, my precious Oz. . . ."

Orpheus leaped when he realized that she was leaning in to kiss him on the lips again; then his movements became a full, desperate retreat when he noticed that her hand was starting to move to his loincloth. He fell backward and continued to back up, knowing that he was going to be trapped against the side of the pool but too terrified of her alluring gaze and eager grasp to think. Finally, he hit the side and could only stare in a mixture of captivated arousal and petrified fear while she approached him, her stride through the waist-high water slow and seductive. It was then that he noticed something extremely peculiar:

On Shamna's pelvis, just above the water line, was a Geass sigil, glowing with an iridescent glitz that embarrassingly demanded the onlooker's attention to that particular area. His senses began to break through his hormones and fear, and he looked up at her with a questioning expression. "You—You're a . . . Code-"

Shamna reached out and placed a finger on his mouth, leaning forward to strike a more seductive pose. "Yes, Love. Eternal youth and beauty. Hmmm . . . With the proper research, perhaps I could give you and Lady Krushevsky the same gift," she put another offer on the table while holding his chin and stroking his bottom lip. "All you have to do is give yourself to me and give me what I need to end a potential threat to our eternal happiness."

Orpheus struggled a fraction to keep his eyes on her face. She was . . . so beautiful. The way she was looking at him communicated a woman who was desperate for romantic affection, utterly enamored by the young man who had fallen right into her lap. That was genuine loneliness he saw in her eyes. He couldn't stop his sympathy for her from showing on his face.

This wasn't a good sign.

"No deal," he steeled his resolve again as he pushed her off of him and stood. "I'm no—Mm!" He should have anticipated that she would kiss him here. It was exceptionally passionate, and he couldn't escape her vice-like hold as she hugged his body close to hers. The guards giggled, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do to escape from their mistress's clutches. Many men would have already given up and given her their virginity, either too weak-willed to resist her or having fallen into a state of hopelessness. But not Orpheus. Even as she continued to force herself on him, he resisted the urge to return her affection.

Yet he could feel himself starting to break. It was subtle, but that feeling was there. It would only be a matter of time before any hope of escape or rescue would dissolve to dust and he would need to accept the inevitable.

Shamna drew away from him and licked her lips, a smug, lustful simper making her look guiltily tempting. "I would have you here right now, Oz," she whispered passionately, "but saving you for our honeymoon would be the most fulfilling beginning to our marriage. Let us enjoy our courtship for the time being, my king. Come now—back to your royal treatment."

She linked arms with him and strung him along so he was forced to sit next to her again in the water and continue to be thoroughly washed down. After a little while, Orpheus gave in to indulging in a little too much Zilkhistani mead. It was the only thing that was going to help him cope with his current plight.

That, and the hope that he might finally be able to truly get to know the lovely and honorable Monica Krushevsky. If he ever made it out of here.

How ironic. Gino was more or less a member of Peace Mark, an organization known to use genuine terrorism in its fight against Britannia. Yet everyone here saw him as a hero only because he had been following orders without considering the odds.

Almost everyone.

He had just finished lunch and was ambling his way back to his room, still reeling from the shock of his crash-landing the previous day. Beneath the bandages wrapped around his tired and battered body, his cuts and burns hurt with every movement. Fredrick had told him to rest until he was completely healed from his wounds. But after everything he had seen, he knew that it would take him a much longer time to recover than any of his physical injuries. He still remembered Monica lying on the floor, crying in humiliation as Lelouch stood over her and cackled hysterically from the unspeakable dehumanization he was forcing upon her.

"So many young women across the world have lost their purity as you have to Britannian filth, my dear," he had whispered to her while glancing at Gino and holding her up by her hair. "Consider this our marriage ceremony. We do have our witnesses, after all."

Gino's stomach lurched. He just had to recall this memory so clearly immediately after he had eaten. He fought to keep his meager meal in, but he couldn't control his stomach. The next thing he knew, chunks of prepacked rations were on the stone floor of the tunnel, surrounded by a pool of viscous stomach acid. The stink of it barely registered in his mind. He couldn't think of anything else but that moment—except for when it had been Dorothea's turn immediately after her. He retched a second time, but only a tiny trickle of vomit came out from his empty stomach.

"Oh, God, clean up after yourself, Brit," came the voice he was now always on the alert to keep away from. "Old stories say your hygiene is stuck in the 1500's. How many parasites do y' have in there?"

Gino looked up at his rescuer's daughter, who was standing over him with an air of superiority and revulsion. "If you had been what I went through, you'd be puking too," he growled at her, already fed up with her sense of entitlement.

"Really?" Rita leaned against the wall and smirked. "Did y' see your ma's brain get blown out the back of her head or your little brother beaten until he was unrecognizable? I guess me ma was lucky she had let herself go. Otherwise she'd be in one o' those Brit Rest Houses serving drinks and gettin' plowed every night. If not for Dad, I'd be there gettin' that treatment."

"Did you see thousands of your comrades and many friends get vaporized by your self-righteous, traitorous, so-called friend who never even once talked to any of us about defecting before he came a hair's breadth to murdering us? Were you forced to watch two of your best friends get raped before your very eyes by a cackling psychopath while you hung on a pair of shackles after having your back and chest whipped and your chest, armpits, and feet seared with a hot metal bar? Don't tell me you've had it worse than me, Euro! We've all been through hell and it's time you accepted that not every Britannian is your enemy!"

Rita stood over him, shaking her head in mock pity with a large sneer twisting her features. "Acting the maggot, just like all o' you Imps. We aren't on a level playing field, Weinberg. You've only scratched the surface of our suffering. And I can't wait to see how deeply you feel it."

Gino pushed himself up and shifted all of his weight on the wall, his head still spinning. Frankly, it was hard to be standing upright for even a few seconds. "Pfft. I'd heard you Irish girls were spitfires. I guess a two hundred-year-old grudge is enough for you to be equally as racist."

"It isn' about a two-hundred-year-old grudge, Brit," she laughed with a sly twinkle in her eye. "It goes hundreds of years in the past, too, you know. Napoleon is a hero to us. He freed us from your occupation and let our old culture flourish again. After all this time, you damn Imperialists haven't changed a bit."

"Well excuse me for being British! You just don't get it, do you? This isn't about nationalism any more!" Blowing up had exhausted what little energy he had left, and he slid back down to the floor and heaved a little, thankfully not releasing any more vomit. "Never thought I would actually be willing to fight alongside Peace Mark for Japanese freedom," he reflected tiredly, letting out a quick cough and hanging his head. "We're either going to stand together . . . or die together. There's no in-between anymore."

Rita paused and seemed to be considering his words. Finally, she began laughing, which eventually cascaded into hysterical hooting as she keeled over with her hands on her knees. After about twenty seconds of this, she gathered her composure—or at least as much as someone as blunt as her could contain—and looked him in the eye, smiling like he was the dumbest sod in human history. "You think we're doing this for the Japanese? Let me tell you something, Brit: A lot of us were happy when Britannia occupied Area 11. They teach you that the Japs were racist fundamentalists who persecuted the Chinese and Koreans? Well, that's about the only truth they tell you. Don't let some soppy ideal make you forget reality. The Japs are no better than you Brits. But now that Lelouch wants to expand his empire the world over, it's obvious that the wrong empire gained the upper hand. The Japs had the desire to expand, but hardly the resources."

Gino sat in grim silence. He couldn't tell if Rita was equally as racist against Japanese as she was against Britannians or if she just resented their Imperialistic policies which Britannia had ironically used to conquer them themselves. Did she even care that they were suffering, or did she see both Britannians and Japanese now suffering side-by-side as equal justice? Maybe there was truth to Monica's idealistic motto.

Spurred on by this thought, Gino looked her in the eye, aware that his flushed color and tired, dark eyes made the attempt at stoic righteousness unconvincing. "Then we can end Imperialism once and for all, Rita. You just need to trust me and remember that the rivalry between our two peoples is far in the past."

Scoffing pitifully, the irate Irish woman turned so she could continue on her way. "'End Imperialism'? Weinberg, if we can bring down Lelouch and force Britannia to finally play nice with the rest of the world, we've only just begun a new age of Imperialism. Two 'undred years is nothing compared to the potential reign of other nations that will be eager to lap up the fringes of 'is crumblin' territories. Japan included. An angry mob o' forty million former Imperialists isn' able to forgive their conquerors so easily."

With that, she left him to wallow in his self-pity. He wondered if he might be able to go back to the storeroom and get another ration bar. But he still felt so nauseous. What a state to be in after such torture. Healing was going to take a lot longer if he couldn't eat.

Standing up and limping against the wall, Gino shambled his way back to where he he had come from, hoping he could find someone who would be willing to clean up his vomit and that this resistance cell could spare just one extra set of rations for a man who had finally been disillusioned.

The amount of uncomfortable squirming involved with this chapter was huge. XD I'll be delving into Dorothea's past next chapter because the writers of the original show couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.

Design great-looking characters who could show that the other side isn't truly evil and that everyone has their own reasons for fighting - Murder them or leave them as an undeveloped plank of wood - Profit anyway -_-