Hidden within the roadside bushes, Kallen's blood thrums as she watches the road before her. A cool summer breeze brushes across her bare skin, and the blooming flowers surrounding her whisper in delight. She checks her watch and readjusts her grip on the gun. Five more minutes if her target abides to the schedule. Biting her lip, she creeps out of the bushes and checks that spikes she lay out on the road have not wandered off.
Her phone buzzes. A call from Ohgi. She silences it with an angry flick.
They don't believe her when she claims her mind is her own, free from Lelouch's geass. Yet, she regrets not telling them her plan because if she is wrong, there will be no escape. His commands are absolute; she knows that much.
It's not too late to turn back and flee to the safety of the Black Knights. She can take up her knightmare and fight Lelouch to bring an end to his unlawful reign. Her lips curl in amusement at the memory of his grand announcement that he was the Emperor merely because he killed the former. It's an audacious use of Britannian logic, and while the court quickly fell to mind control, his brazenness is tantalizingly familiar.
If she leaves now, her heart tells her she will never know the truth. Still, trepidation curls in her gut.
Lelouch confessed, calling her a pawn. That was enough for the rest of the Black Knights, but she has realized one crucial thing: Lelouch is a liar. For him, they come as easily as he breathes, and there, right as she turned away with a betrayed heart, he asked her to live.
What does it mean? Is it all a ruse?
Kallen retreats back into the bushes and closes her eyes. A black limousine peaks over the hill, and she covers her ears as it approaches her traps. A loud bang sends it skittering off the road, and Kallen is leaping forward, brandishing her gun, demanding that they exit.
First, comes the guard. A burly man whom she easily disarms. Haughtily, her target—vibrant vermillion hair in disarray—climbs out after the driver. She wears an exquisite, dark maroon dress with jingling jewels on the hems and a swooping low cut on her back. Her grace and elegance is everything that Kallen is not and has never aspired to be.
The advert called for the fairest in Britannia to present themselves to the Emperor so he may choose a wife. Upon her first reading, Kallen burst into laughter in disbelief at the notion that Lelouch wished to form a harem. Despite Shirley's obvious affection, he had never noticed. And thus, a desperate, crazy plan in the search of the truth was formed.
"Take off your clothes," Kallen demands.
The woman's eyes narrow. "Highway banditry? Britannia shall have your head. Do you know who I am?"
"Lady Katerina Yeatmont of the House of Todlak," Kallen answers primly. "Now, my lady. Your clothes, please. I promise that if you cooperate, you will not be harmed."
"You're the Red Devil," the woman breaths. She stumbles backwards, pressing herself against the car. "Zero's right hand. Why are out here instead of with the Elevens! Zero is dead. You lost!"
"I have one last mission for Zero." Mainly to ask him what he is playing at by declaring himself the Emperor of Britannian. Lelouch is not defeated, despite the Black Knight's betrayal. He is scheming, and she wants her answer. "Now, do we have to do this the hard way?"
The woman stills. "You're going to assassinate the usurper." She raises her hands and turns to her driver. "Ricardo. I fear for my life. We must do everything she says. You heard her; she is mad."
Well, that certainly makes Kallen's task easier.
The stolen invitation in her hand, Kallen easily passes through the palace's security. The knife strapped to her leg chaffs, and the dress is uncomfortably tight around her shoulders. Lady Katherine is far less toned and a smidge slimmer than her.
All the attendees are guided to a large powder room, where they eagerly gossip as servants touch up their makeup. Skilled hands push her into a seat, and brushes attack her face. Her lips are painted ruby red with small, delicate brush strokes that drag and make her imagine Lelouch's warm lips on her instead.
Kallen stares into the mirror, hardly recognizing herself. This is the woman her father always wanted. The perfect noble heiress who played with barbed words instead of knightmares on the battlefield. Who fought for Britannia, instead of against her.
Except now, Kallen has donned this despised mask to confront the revolutionist turned monarch.
The looming form of Gottwald ushers them into a gilded ballroom. Her heart hammers in her chest as she absorbs the finery and splendor around her and the hundred guards lining the walls. The servants bow their heads in deference as they pass, and Kallen keeps her face carefully blank. None of this is like Lelouch, but he stopped acting like himself since he took the throne.
Maybe he really does want a wife.
In a meticulous line, they come to a rest and drop into deep curtsies that make Kallen's calves burn. Her eyes dutifully focus on the floor, mimicking the ladies around her. A few stagger, and a guard quickly rushes them out of the room over their loud protests.
Some say Emperor Lelouch is a reformer. Numerous commoners have certainly called him that, yet he is undoubtedly the despot that the UFN and the Black Knights call him. He rules with an iron fist, his two knights violently putting down any dissension.
The door opens to the blare of trumpets, and the Imperial Guard waiting along the room's edges snaps to attention with hundreds of boots moving in unison.
First through the door is the Knight of Zero, Suzaku Kururugi. He sweeps through the room, vigilant for dangers, and inspects the women. A few ladies are violently dragged away. When he stops in front of her, she is barely able to keep the disgust off her face. Knight of Zero. It's painfully on the nose, but she despises that this two faced traitor who stole victory from Zero's grasp, time and time again, is the one to claim it. He's unworthy of such an honor; it should've been her.
His eyes narrow, and she ducks her head lower. He's the last obstacle standing in the way of her scheme.
He moves on at last, precise steps echoing through the room. Finally, he stops by the door and the trumpets blare again as Emperor Lelouch enters the room. His robes are white like the purest lilies, yet various blood rubies cast doubt on his supposed innocence. Golden thread shimmers under the flickering warm candlelight of the chandeliers. He's a divine being—god or demon still to be determined—gracing them with his presence.
There's an easy smile on his face—the one reserved for lies. It does nothing to ease the sheer force of his presence. Kallen can barely breathe, her dress throttling her.
A few of the ladies swoon; one of them stumbles.
He offers her a hand, and his voice is like velvet chocolate. "My ladies, please rise."
Kallen is the only one who manages to rise swiftly and without a hint of a tremble. The rest follow suit, but she knows that she caught his attention now. Still, he doesn't approach, instead pulling the lady he offered his hand to onto the dance floor as a hidden orchestra begins to play.
More servants, burdened by elaborate platters, flood the room through the meager spaces between the guards. Again, the decadence is anathema to the Lelouch she knew. A gentleman approaches and offers her a courteous bow.
Knowing her duty, she accepts his outstretched hand and hopes he doesn't notice her painfully limited repertoire of dance moves. She never imagined that her etiquette lessons would ever be of use, especially because her quest was to free Japan. As they spin on the dance floor, she spots Suzaku begrudgingly asking another lady at Lelouch's teasing.
The song ends, and she trades partners, moving her way across the ballroom, trying to keep Lelouch in sight. She needed to be close to him. By the fifth song, the dance floor thins as ladies retreat to the refreshments. Her skin is uncomfortably flushed, hungering for the slightest touch, and a glass of water is deliciously enticing, but she knows not what game Lelouch is playing. Retreating now may lead to her loss, and she has invested too much into this opportunity to let victory slip from her grasp. There will never be another chance.
Lelouch takes a break first, and Kallen stubbornly continues to dance. She wonders if he is watching her, if his eyes are tracking her bare back and how her shoulders ripple to the beat of the music. If he is watching her hips sashaying to the rhythm. If he feels anything at the sight of strangers' hands wandering over her lower back.
The song ends, and she twirls around as gentle yet domineering hands capture her own, and the Emperor finally leads her into the next dance. Her heart thunders. He is terrifyingly close, and this is an utterly terrible plan.
Lelouch confessed to using her. That she had been nothing but a pawn and a toy for his amusement. He may be a liar, but why would he say such cruel things instead of explaining the truth? Why push her away?
It's far too late to change her mind now. Either he does feel something; or she will be executed. Her heart calms at the notion. Just another mission. The risk of death is familiar.
"Hello, Lelouch," she whispers. His shoulder stiffens beneath her left hand, and his fingers dig into her. Emotionless eyes focus on her, and she returns his gaze calmly. "You have not been answering your phone."
"You should not be here." He pulls her abruptly into a Viennese waltz. "How did you even acquire an invitation?"
"Does it matter?" She raises her chin as the room spins around them in a blur of gold and splashes of mundane. Her dress flares around her, dark maroon tangling with his wispy, pearl white robes. "I want to know what you meant. 'You need to live.' That's what you said on the Ikaruga."
His jaw clenches. "Does it matter?" he counters coolly and drops her into a sudden dip that launches her heart into her mouth. "Perhaps, I truly underestimated your intelligence. Are you that eager to be used again? I am sure that I can find a spot for my dear pawn, perhaps in ridding Area Eleven of its recent infestation. Or maybe you have come here for something more?" He leers. "Of course, I would never take a mixed breed like yourself for a wife, but a mistress might do. You must be desperate to put yourself entirely at my mercy."
The Lelouch she knew would've never said that. For all his callousness, he did care. Has the death of his sister truly impacted him so greatly? Or perhaps in the time he was unaccounted for, he again succumbed to his strange bout of amnesia. There has to be an explanation. She refuses to believe she has been so utterly fooled.
His hands fall away, and she's strangely off kilter. Stronger hands wrench her arms behind her back, and she gasps as he watches impassively.
"I am sure we will find a use for you eventually. Until then, your beauty may brighten the dungeons. They are always so dreary."
She wrests one arm free and glares. "So I meant nothing?"
"You were never more than a convenient pawn." He brushes a hand over her cheek like one would with a small child. "You did serve me well for the time you were of use, but I have no need for you anymore. Or the rest of your comrades. Or even that mundane little island you call home."
"You're a liar, Lelouch."
"Yes, I fooled you, did I not? You were always so desperate for my attention and Zero's approval." His hand sift through her hair. "I could have done anything with you by the end. Even now, you are so... dependent on me and unwilling to believe everything was a lie."
Unbidden tears well in her eyes, and her chest clenches, strangling the air from her lungs. "If I really meant nothing, then have sex with me. Then your conquest would be complete, wouldn't it?" She laughs as his eyes widen. "Come on then, what are you waiting for? I am basically inviting you. Prove to me that you are a heartless monster."
His mouth parts, and she spots a flush of pink in his cheeks. "You want me to sleep with you?"
The back of her neck heats, but she's finally found a chink in his mask. "If I'm nothing, then it shouldn't be a problem, right? It's just sex, utterly meaningless. Or did you not invite all these ladies here because of your obligations and compulsions."
"Your Majesty," Suzaku interrupts. "Is there a problem?"
"You tell me, Sir Kururugi," Lelouch hisses. "Were you not in charge of security?"
"Kallen." And Suzaku is suddenly between them with a sword resting on her neck. "What are you doing here?"
"Propositioning," she snarks. "I'm challenging His Majesty to have sex with me, but he is too much of a fucking coward to agree."
"I just said you were a pawn," Lelouch says, exasperated. "Why would you even want to sleep with me?"
"Because I don't believe you." Careless of the sword at her neck, she crosses her arms. "Why hesitate? I know you find me attractive, or have you forgotten when you asked me to comfort you?"
"You slapped me," he says blankly.
The sword lowers, and Suzaku stares at them in disbelief. "You were in a relationship?"
Ignoring him, Kallen steps closer to Lelouch. "I slapped you because you were acting like an idiot, not because I didn't want to."
"Could you maybe have mentioned this before?" Suzaku hisses, dragging Lelouch to the side. "Your girlfriend seems like a likely complication."
"So there is a plan," Kallen intuits. "You are up to something."
"Shut up," Lelouch orders his knight before focusing on her again, his face utterly blank. "Guards, restrain her. She is an assassin."
She groans as she's thrown to the ground and a knee on her back effectively pins her to the ground. Around them, the other attendees have stopped at the sudden commotion and stare inquisitively
Lelouch walks past her. "I have asked for the fairest in the land to collect here. Who among you believes they hold the honor?"
Various ladies glanced at each other nervously before stepping up. Whatever their personal feelings were, they were all eager to have a chance to sit at the Emperor's side and gain a scrap of power.
"So you claim to be more beautiful than your Emperor." He laughs cruelly. "Such a claim is treason."
The Imperial Guards at the side of the room, mere moments ago waiting like impervious statues, rush forward. The ladies scream as they are forcibly dragged away from the room as the remaining gentlemen look on in shock.
Lelouch returns to her side with a chuckle. "Do you still think I am not a demon, Kallen?"
"Coward!" Kallen shouts as she's dragged away. "You're a fucking coward, Lelouch! Face me, damn it!"
As always, Britannian cells are exceedingly uncomfortable. Trying to ease the pressure on her joints, Kallen cracks her neck. She does not have good memories from her last time in captivity, and Suzaku is prowling somewhere in the castle above her. At least this time, he doesn't have the need to acquire pertinent information from her, but she still fears he will descend and dose her with refrain.
As a Knight of the Round, he already discarded his morals to serve loyally. He fired a FLEIJA on innocent civilians. Now, he serves Lelouch despite previously being vehement enemies. Nothing will stop him now.
Except maybe this scheme between him and Lelouch. She knows there is something.
The cell door opens. Gottwald steps through. Half of his face is covered in an orange mask, and his uniform is immaculate. As he unfolds a chair from across her, he gives her a considering look. "I find it strange you are here after you and the Black Knights betrayed him. Is this some poor plot to assassinate my liege?"
"No. I merely want answers."
His brow furrows, stretching awkwardly where flesh meets metal. "His Majesty was most concerned for your safety when you were captured, and now, you are here, propositioning to him."
"I know he's planning something," Kallen challenges. "I know he is a liar, which is why I refuse to believe him now when he is going against everything he has done before."
"And what if the truth is not to your liking?"
"It would be harder to be any damn worse than he claims now, yet I am here, am I not?" Shifting her bound hands, she tries to adjust her dress and how it pinches her sides. "Zero always has a plan, so don't try to deny it. I waited forever in a Britannian cell, and right after he rescues me and before I can ask him anything, he declares himself a villain. I've been at his side from the beginning; I want answers, damn it."
"You care for him," he says. "Perhaps even love him."
She shrinks back, uncomfortably warm, but unable to refute the claim. She has challenged Lelouch to have sex with her in the heat of the moment.
Jeremiah nods to himself and abruptly rises. She pushes her back against the wall, but he easily drags her to her feet. Then he undoes her restraints. "Follow me, my lady."
Hesitantly, she steps outside of her cell. He doesn't stop her. No, he waves impatiently and heads to the door. The guard there gawks but quickly snaps to attention as they pass by him. Gottwald stops before an elevator, and she watches him warily out of the corner of her eyes as they wait. What is his plan?
The doors open with a chime. He pulls her in when she dawdles too long, and they shoot upwards with a force reminiscent of the Guren at launch.
When they exit, the palace is surprisingly quiet although the walls glimmer with stolen treasures. A few guards are stationed at regular intervals but none of them acknowledge their existence. They're dead to the world. Geass.
Jeremiah stops before a nondescript door, and he hesitates for a moment. "Lady Kouzuki. I hope he will listen to you. It is not my place to question my liege, but his plan pains me greatly. Know that if you fail to convince him, your memory will be altered, and you will be sent on your way."
"What?" She swallows. Lelouch's geass, of course. With it, he can order her to forget, even alter her feelings for him. "Please, no."
"Then you understand what is at stake." He opens the door, and she stares at the lavish bedroom, yet it is rather underwhelming for what she imagined an Emperor would claim. "He will return soon. As a favor, I implore you to keep my presence quiet. He would not appreciate my meddling in his plan. I will waylay Sir Kururugi so you may spend time together at peace."
A light shove sends her stumbling inside, and the door shuts behind her. She hears a lock click into place and spins around. There's no escape.
Her hand slips down her leg, finding the knife she smuggled in. It rests comfortably in her hands, and she chuckles. The first day they met in person, she threatened him with a knife as well. To think he was Zero all along. He certainly had her fooled.
Now, she can imagine no one else more suited to the role. Her hands tremble slightly, and she opens one of the drawers to hide it away. For all that has changed, Lelouch is still a twig. If anything, she has the advantage here.
It doesn't matter; he won't hurt her. He was trying to scare her away. She won't fall for his lies so easily this time.
As the doorknob rattles, a shiver of anticipation shoots down her spine, and she ducks into the neighboring room, trying to catch her breath. Nothing has even happened yet, but she is a mess of nerves. Like when she drove the decoy Prince Clovis's transport so Zero could make his debut. She had faith then and reaped the rewards. Now, she will as well.
She can do this.
Lelouch mumbles something and shuffles through the room. His footsteps approach, and his shadow sweeps through the door first. He has lost his ridiculous hat. His hands though appear to be preoccupied.
The harsh paneling of the wall presses into her back, and she swallows.
He steps through.
Her hand darts forward, and she covers his mouth, pushing him against the wall as papers shower the floor like fresh snowfall. His breath hitches, pushing against her gently, but he doesn't resist. His amethyst eyes bore down into her with a pained expression that makes her want to shake him. Why? Why does he always make everything so difficult? Slowly, she peels away.
Her hand falls anxiously to her side; the memory of his lips against her palm burns.
"I shall have you executed for this." He recovers first, his face again that one of a cruel tyrant.
"Oh, shut up."
She pushes closer, squashing her chest. Her throat seizes at the burning warmth flooding her body, and she closes her eyes, rising onto her toes and leaning in for a kiss, guided by some deep instinct.
He's tense beneath her as her hands hesitantly run up his chest, over the silk robes and past the inlaid gems. She's slow and cautious, feeling his every reaction, from the stiffening of his shoulder to the slight stutter in his breath. Her thighs push against his as she searches for a bit of leverage. Something stiff brushes against her leg, and she pushes down on her sudden embarrassment, lest she loses her courage. His words can't be believed, but his actions can.
What better way to judge a man?
Slowly, he relaxes and leans into her. A hand brushes through her hair, cupping her chin. A warm tender breath brushes over her tingling lips. He's so close. He had chocolate for dessert.
Impatience surges, and she pushes a little closer, finally capturing his lips. It's different from what she imagined, but he's responding, and she moans. Her arms reach forward, wrapping around his neck to anchor him in this world before he drifts away, forever out of reach.
One hand is grasping the back of her head; the other, cupping her bottom. The distance between them is too large.
"Kallen," he breathes. He kisses her hungrily again, then tears away, his eyes filled with torment. "Why? You know what I have done."
"Spilled blood for change," she answers. "I have as well. You cannot shelter me from my own sins, and I will not let you bear the world on your shoulders. My heart is my own, you promised, and I will believe that. I know you, Lelouch. I believed your lie at Ashford, then your lie of Zero. I refuse to fall for this sham again. Tell me the truth, Lelouch. Please."
"You're a pawn," he threatens. He removes his contact lenses, his eyes now a hateful red—the eyes of a demon. "A mere tool. This is the real me, Kallen. You're a fool to think that I have ever been anything else."
He pushes her back by the shoulders. "I don't know how you escaped, but you won't go any further." He catches her hand as she moves to slap him. "None of that now. I cannot let meager peasants assault me. But you're even lower than that, aren't you? An Eleven."
Not again. Fucking hell! She had him there for a moment. His mask slipped. There's something else.
"Prove it," she demands. "Petty words mean nothing; only results. So prove to me you are the tyrant you claim. A demon. That I should hate you and end your blight on this earth!"
His face turns eerily blank. "Is that what you wish?"
A sob grows in her chest, but she leans forward and steals another kiss. "Fuck me and prove it. Or are you a damn coward who only hides behind words?"
A hand snakes around her waist and suddenly she is being pulled against him. There's not a single glimpse of emotion to pry from his face, but she won't let him win this easily. If he thinks he can hide behind this facade so easily, he has another thing coming.
Kallen: "If I really meant nothing, then have sex with me."
Lelouch: Something about this logic feels off...
...
AO3 has the full version which includes such delightful bits as Kallen punching Suzaku... and a sex scene. Alas, while I write of revolutions and murder, I do try to abide by site rules, so I ended it here for FFN.
A while back, I found a translation of the novelization's epilogue which claims a few things Lelouch did to earn the title of the Demon Emperor. It includes such charming tidbits as massacring an entire town because some townsfolk disagreed with Arthur, the cat, stealing their fish. Also within, it mentions Lelouch recruiting women for his harem, only to execute them for presuming to be more beautiful than him. And thus, this idea was born.
Well that, and I made a new year's resolution to write smut this year, and I've now run out the clock. :P
Oh, and happy belated birthday, Lelouch.