Interlude 18: The Judgement of a Knight
I look at myself in the mirror before I leave for my appointment with my Lord, no. My King.
Wolf's tooth cap, tan lounge jacket, green dress shirt, blue slacks, and brown wingtip shoes.
Heh. Not the attire of a man of the nobility, but rather something more suited to a high-class bar. I'd rather not wear the hat, but my appearance is quite distinctive and I cannot afford to be recognized.
Besides, I have an excuse that will pass muster should anyone in the palace ask where I'm going. I plan to take Miss Shinozaki out on a date after the appointment with...Lelouch.
It irks something in me to be so casual with him, even in my own thoughts. But it was his request, and I feel I should accede to his wishes.
I turn off the lights, walking out the door of my quarters at the palace. I do confess some curiosity as to the nature of this 'minor problem' he wishes to discuss.
Given my Lord's understatement of matters, this might actually be something serious.
As I emerge from the secret passage into the living room, I quirk an eyebrow at seeing the blue-haired young man speaking with Lady Nunnally. What was his name...Carde-something?
I can only assume my Lord has invited him in as part of his group.
"Wait, really? You're telling me Lelouch slept with Princess Euphemia AND Suzaku at the same time?"
I pinch my nose out of frustration. Alternatively, he just missed his friend. And I really do not need to hear about my Lord's sex life. God knows I had enough of that with Lady Marianne and His Majesty.
"I do not believe I have had the pleasure, Mr...?" I say, extending my hand as I remove my cap.
"Rivalz Cardemonde. Oh wow, you're Jeremiah Gottwald, the former viceroy of the Area! You work for Lulu too?" he says, returning the shake.
Ha! Seems my reputation precedes me.
"Well met, Mr. Cardemonde. I am indeed Jeremiah Gottwald, Margrave, and Knight of Honor for the vi Britannia line. Also known as the Knight of Orange."
I give a polite bow. Normally, I would be a bit more standoffish. But when dealing with my Lord? Normality is something that swiftly goes to the wayside.
"So how come he named you Knight of Orange? I don't get it."
I open my mouth to explain it when a giggle sounds from Lady Nunnally.
"It's because I used to call him Mr. Orange back when we were children. Lelouch thought the name was a good one and it stuck. He said a man who kept his loyalty all these years deserved a title recognizing it."
That...that's why? I find myself unable to stop smiling in profound satisfaction.
"Sir Orange?"
I turn to Lady Nunnally, who's looking pensively at me.
"When you speak to my brother, please be understanding. He's been under a lot of stress lately."
I nod solemnly. The incident with Princess Euphemia doubtless weighs heavily on his mind.
"He's out on the patio at the back. I'll let Sayoko know her knight in shining armor is here," she says with a sly grin.
I walk out the door, head held high, not a trace of red on my cheeks at her teasing. Truly, nothing of the sort.
My nose twitches as a familiar smell reaches my nostrils. Ah, my Lord is indulging his vice at the moment.
"Come in, Jerry, I've been expecting you."
Jerry? That's odd, he hasn't called me that before.
I walk over and see my master slouching in a garden chair, eyes half lidded, one of those marijuana cigarettes on his lips. I spy a few bottles of beer in an ice chest.
"Lelouch...my Lord...are you drunk?"
It's the middle of the afternoon! Granted, I've done my share of carousing in the daytime, but this is alarming behavior for him.
"Yes, and rather stoned, too. Pull up a chair, Orange. I've got some shit to get off my chest, and frankly? You're my only male friend who I trust to give me an unbiased hearing."
I blink and nod solemnly. Lady Nunnally was right, he truly is in dire straits.
I move to pull a chair up, taking a bottle of beer for myself. This is not the first time I've provided a drinking partner for a friend, but it is my first time doing so with my liege lord. Obviously, I never did so with Empress Marianne, that would have been improper.
"Jerry...it's been a rotten week. And I'm sorry to be dumping on you like this."
I crack the cap off the bottle, taking a sip, eyes briefly widening at the taste. Sour? No, not quite. A kind of cherry flavor? This is an excellent beer, whatever it is.
He chuckles, "Not sure what to make of that one? It's a style of beer originating in Europe and not very easily reproducible outside of its original region. It's a sour ale sub-type called a kriek lambic. It's made from the usual beer fermenting process with Belgian sour cherries thrown into the mix. What do you think?"
I take a second sip, savoring the rich fruity flavor. Astonishing. Truly one of the best beers I have ever tasted.
"It's a fantastic beverage, my Lord. But I suspect you are diverting the conversation to avoid something. May I ask what troubles you?"
He takes a puff, closing his eyes.
"That's...before I tell you, bear in mind. I had good reasons for doing this, even though it doesn't paint me in a good light."
I put the beer down, frowning, "Lelouch, my master, please. Speak to me."
He looks up and I shudder at the self-loathing and sorrow in his expression.
"I hit CC. A few times, actually."
I sag into the chair. Not the worst case scenario, to be sure. But I see now why this troubles him. A man striking a woman is never something to be lauded.
True, there are exceptions, like fending off a woman who's trying to kill you, or slapping a hysterical woman. Not something to be proud of, but it needs to be done occasionally.
But Lady CC? She is the paragon of control and has a presence comparable to my lord's. What could have driven him to...?
"Why?"
At that question, he sits up, eyes glowering as his hand not holding the cigarette reaches down to an open beer bottle.
"Because as much as it pained me to do so? What she did was an abomination."
I tap my chin in thought. An abomination? A vexing puzzle, indeed. I know very little of her abilities beyond the power to grant Geass and her undying nature.
"What was her crime?"
He takes a sip of beer, and then glares at me with bloodshot eyes.
"She abused a child, Jeremiah. I could not let that stand with impunity."
I gasp at the statement. Truly?! That is indeed a heinous act.
"What did she do to this child?"
He grinds his teeth, standing up and pacing unsteadily. He must have had a few beers before I arrived.
"The young man, Mao, the one whom I almost had you snipe? She gave him a Geass at age SIX. Mao lost control of it sometime later, and it retarded his emotional development. He's mentally closer to twelve than his seventeen years of age."
Good God, what a horrifying thing to do! No wonder he struck her. I daresay I understand his frustration.
"What was his ability, my Lord?"
He turns around from his pacing, teeth bared.
"Mind reading. Uncontrollable, and able to hear every mind within 500 meters. That was his torment that drove him mad. A curse that I sealed using my own Geass. THAT, Jeremiah, is WHY I am furious at CC."
No sound is heard for a few moments as what he just said is processed in my mind.
I do not believe my Lord is at fault here. Yes, his conduct was not something that can easily be excused, but given the circumstances? It is entirely understandable that he struck her.
An action I find myself reluctantly agreeing with.
But that does not solve the issue. His actions, however right, are clearly troubling him.
"My Lord, I—"
He sinks into the chair, groaning, "Jeremiah, call me Lelouch, goddammit. I don't need you to be servile, I need an unbiased opinion from my Knight of Honor. No, scratch that. I need a friend who isn't going to give me shit about this and dispense some actual fucking advice."
A strange request, one that I don't believe almost any other noble or royal would say. Well, a select few, perhaps. But regardless...
It's not a situation I ever expected to be in, giving relationship advice...or acting as a surrogate parent, come to think of it.
"I won't pretend to understand how much you are dealing with, or how various recent events have been fraying your nerves."
He quirks an eyebrow at that, "Oh trust me. They're pretty fucking fried. Hence why I'm taking a mental health day or three and fucking off on doing anything for a bit."
It says a lot about how I used am becoming to his mercurial temperament that I don't even bat an eye at the phrase 'mental health day'.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, rubbing to ward off the headache I can feel coming on. "Lelouch, it's never a good thing to hit a woman. I myself, have used my fists on men who have done such at times. But in this case?"
I sigh to myself, taking a deep breath. Is this what it's like? To be talking to one's own progeny and advising them on how to be a better man than you were?
"In this case? Though I do not approve of your actions towards Lady CC? I find myself in agreement with your reasoning. She truly did act in a reprehensible manner."
Ultimately, he is not my son. Perhaps were he acting closer to his age, or had I been with him, had he stayed in Britannia instead of going into exile? I would have gladly taken up the role that his father so clearly neglected.
"It is to your credit that you regret your lapse of control. But sometimes passion overrides good judgement. And sometimes...that passion is understandable, if unpleasant to deal with."
He gives me a searching look, before sighing, having seen something in my eyes.
"Given the way you're talking about this, does this kind of thing happen a lot in military relationships?"
And there's why I do not even attempt to act as his father. At times, he carries a weight of experience and presence far older than his seventeen years of age. Acting parental to him would be condescending, if it was not asked for. And that question...heh.
"A civilian wouldn't understand that difference. To them, hitting a woman is a act of a base and despicable man. But when both people are soldiers and capable of fighting?"
He laughs ruefully to himself, taking a sip of beer.
"It's not really bullying or abusing my superior strength, when she's probably stronger than me, a better pilot, and as just as capable of killing people as I am."
I nod, sipping the red alcohol, watching the clouds pass overhead. The dynamics between men and women change when both sides are hardened fighters, when the woman can hit the man almost as hard as he hits her.
Perhaps it's the somber mood just now, but I feel like trying one of my Lord's cigarettes.
"Lelouch, may I try some of that?" I say, pointing to the lit cigarette in his lips.
He turns it around with a flick of his fingers, holding it out.
"It's called a joint, Jeremiah. And of course. So the military has different standards for domestic violence?"
I take a breath of the joint, coughing slightly. Odd taste, that.
"Not exactly. It's more that violence between men and women is an accepted part of the culture. You know Viletta Nu, my subordinate, correct?"
He nods, wondering where I'm going with this.
"She was in a relationship with a man during Basic. He slapped her; she punched him in the face. And later that same night, they went on a date into the town they were stationed near."
He blinks incredulously at me. I really do not like having to explain this to people who aren't in the service, they simply don't understand the culture.
"So hang on. Men and women just hit each other in the military? Even ones in relationships?"
"Particularly ones in relationships. Service members usually are under high stress with considerable amounts of aggression. The presumption is? If a soldier hits you, andpresuming it's not a commanding officer? You hit back."
Contrary to parts of the nobility? The military, outside of the highest echelons, is coed and not segregated by gender at all. Men and women are expected to perform the same tasks and meet roughly the same physical standards.
My lord gives me a dubious look, his eyebrow raised, "What happens if someone is beaten to a pulp or sexually assaulted?"
I grimace. The dark side of our military is that those things do happen. Luckily, the esprit de corps means that usually such things are halted. Numbers are less fortunate, but that's part of the culture too, regrettably.
"I won't pretend that people do not take advantage of the culture to abuse others. But the military takes considerable time to implant the idea that, although it is survival of the fittest, you depend on your fellow soldiers to guard your back, and thus you are all part of the Empire."
He laughs to himself, brushing a bang from his face, "Britannia, where conduct unbecoming an officer does not include hitting someone in the face."
"An unfair characterization, but your point is taken. However, to our credit? It turns out that the culture of acceptable aggression between the sexes seems to work as a deterrent for misconduct."
Lelouch rubs his forehead, likely attempting to shake off the drunken haze he's in.
"My Lord, consider it in this light. Which is more important: the genitalia one possesses, or the heart of a patriot?"
He sits up, smacking the back of his head once to shake out the cobwebs as his eyes focus on me.
"Which matters more: whether someone has breasts, or the will to fight for one's country, and if need be, die for it?"
I hold my head up proudly, feeling the fervor, the glory of fighting for my homeland.
"To fight as a soldier for one's country, is to take on a grim and unforgiving task. It is a solemn duty, one that may demand the highest level of sacrifice."
My hand goes over my heart as my eyes tear up, "What matters something as arbitrary as one's sex, in the face of such honor?"
Lelouch looks at me with appraising eyes, judging the merit of my words.
"I am sorry, Sir Jeremiah. I have done you a disservice, and I had not even realized it."
I blink in astonishment. A disservice? How? He has been a superb master, one worthy of my service.
"I have asked you to betray your country, the land you love so much, for my sake, and for the sake of your oaths to my family."
He ashes the joint, bowing his head, a frown on his face.
"Forgive me, my knight. I have asked much of you, and given very little in return. I swear to you, I shall repay your service tenfold."
I fall to one knee in shame, my eyes struck with tears. Such magnificence. Such magnaminity. Such understanding.
Here now, stands the man who SHOULD be Emperor. The man who should be the next leader of Britannia. Discarded by petty jealousies and fools who could not see his potential. And he claims that he has abused my service? Poppycock!
"My Lord, never have I felt more fulfilled than in your service. You have enlightened me to the true nature of my country, and to what must be done. I do what I do, not just out of loyalty to you, but because your cause is just, and precisely because I love Britannia so."
Taking the Knight's Pose, I look into his violet eyes, seeing the power within that gaze, "If Britannia has fallen short of the ideals it claims to espouse, then it must be made to recognize its wrongdoing. It is not a betrayal of my beloved country. It is realizing how much we have strayed from the dream of Justice!"
My lord looks at me, a bemused smile on his lips.
"Jeremiah, you're drunk. And probably high."
My expression in response is probably not appropriate, but I find myself affronted somewhat at his dismissal.
"And yet? I find myself wholeheartedly in agreement. We are here to restore JUSTICE TO THIS SHATTERED WORLD!" he yells, standing up, pointing to the sky.
"You are entirely right. Britannia has become rotten from within. It must be cast down to protect the rest of the world from its depravity. Britannia, as it is now, is unworthy of a man of honor and integrity like yourself, Jeremiah," he proclaims, saluting me with his right fist over his heart.
I know full well that I have committed grave offenses against chivalry and honor. That the stains from my actions in Area 11 shall haunt me for years to come. But...to hear my Lord proclaim such is a balm to my soul.
"Thank you...Master Lelouch."
He sighs as he turns to look at the clouds overhead.
"I'm never going to get you to stop doing that, am I?"
He chuckles a bit at the face I make at such informality.
"You can take the Knight out of the Court, but you can't take the Court out of the Knight."
I confess that one is new to my ears, but the point is taken. I cannot act in any way save that of a knight.
"I can only do as my honor demands, my lord. That is exactly what I said to Empress Marianne when I joined her service."
He turns around, whistling, "Nice. What did Mom say?"
I smile wistfully, "That no one could ask me to do more. And that she was proud to have me in her service."
He looks to the side, a complicated expression on his features. Not surprising, considering his mixed feelings towards both of his parents.
His mother, the woman who took care of them, who raised them, killed in his own home at ten years old.
And his father, complicit in the cover-up and exiling him for demanding that he act as a parent?
It shames me to have considered Charles zi Britannia my Emperor.
"Lelouch, my master, do not take what happened between yourself and Lady CC too harshly. Couples often have moments where they are at odds. I witnessed the same thing between His Majesty and Her Highness Marianne at times."
He turns an eye towards me, only to do a double take at the last sentence I uttered.
"Wait, what? Mom and Dad had these kind of arguments, too?"
Was he not aware...ah. Of course not. Master Lelouch was too young and they would likely have done so out of his sight, or that of anyone not trusted.
As a Royal Guardsman, I of course, knew about the occasional tiffs.
I nod, "Indeed. One time, His Majesty slapped Her Highness. She gave him a black eye in retaliation."
I find it amusing that this, of all things, is what makes his jaw drop.
"The Empress was a formidable woman. And at times, even His Majesty attracted her ire. Why, one time, she demanded a duel against him for standing her up to spend time with another empress."
He bursts out laughing, falling back into the chair.
"Hahahahahahhahaha!"
His hand waves at me to continue as he struggles to get catch his breath.
"Anyway, Lord Waldstein and I agreed to act as seconds and provide refereeing for the duel. The Empress chose a rapier and buckler as her weapon, His Majesty, a great sword."
Master Lelouch takes a deep breath, getting his reaction under control.
"So, he he he, what happened, he he he?"
I shrug, "About what any keen observer would have expected to happen. She crushed him utterly beneath her heel."
"She was that good, or Dad wasn't a good swordsman?" he asks, waving his arm lackadaisically.
I snort at the implied insult.
"His Majesty was not an expert at the blade, but he held his own better than one would have expected. Your mother was simply just that good."
He rubs his chin deep in thought. Curious, what provoked such concentration?
"Did they resolve their differences after the duel?" he whispers, eyes focused on some image in his mind.
I flush, remembering the aftermath. They did indeed, but I don't believe it to be proper to speak of such matters.
"...No. They didn't," he says deadpan with a palm on his face.
I grimace and nod, "They did. The Empress declared that she was claiming her victory prize and for everyone else to get out of the room because she didn't want an audience. Sir Waldstein and I beat a hasty retreat out the doors and played a few games of chess to pass the time while we stood guard."
I wince, "The room was soundproofed, fortunately, but the area was trashed when they finally left the room."
He takes a sip of beer, makes a face and then grabs a pitcher of water, pouring a drink.
"I am waaaaay too fucking drunk to be hearing about my parents' sex life. And you are a rat bastard for making me have to listen to that, Jerry," he says, smiling while flipping me off.
Truly unlike any master I have ever known. At one time, I likely would have been aghast at his lack of decorum and his casual insults.
But after spending time with him? It became apparent to me that this is simply who he is and that nothing personal is meant by it.
"I do have to thank you, though. You've given a few ideas on how to clear the air between CC and I," he whispers, eyes closed as he steeples his fingers.
"My Lord?"
He shakes his head, "Don't worry about it. I think I know what to do. I'll let you know how it works out. Go have your night out with Sayoko, I'm sorry to have kept her waiting."
I nod and salute. If he believes I helped, then that is all that matters.
"Have a pleasant evening, Master Lelouch."
Saying that, I re-enter the main house...and find myself beholding a vision of loveliness.
Sayoko Shinozaki, standing in a periwinkle evening gown, a white band on her hair, pearl earrings and a blonde wig, makeup hiding her Asian features.
Features...which I confess I find conspicuous by their absence.
To be falling in love with an Eleven...NO! That is the undeserved and venomous insult that her people have been shackled with. She is a Japanese woman. Her country is vanquished and gone, but her heritage, her pride, her people, yet remain.
Just when I think she cannot attain greater loveliness? Her eyes light up seeing me, and a smile worthy of immortalization on an oil canvas graces her face.
"Absolutely superb," I whisper, kissing her hand.
Ah, the blush of a maiden fair. Truly, one of life's greatest pleasures.
"Shall we, Jeremiah?"
I hold her hand gently in my own as we walk to my car. Admittedly, we could have dined in. Or used one of the secret passages. But I felt like spoiling her a bit this evening.
Thus? An Aston Martin DB7 Volante awaits as our carriage tonight. I keep a car at Ashford, just in case. The passageway was a shorter route and more secure from my car, rather than taking one all the way from the Palace.
Sayoko giggles, running her hand on the lines. While I am not a so-called 'gearhead' like some, I do like to think I have excellent taste in things. Cars, people, wine, and of course, women.
"My, such an imposing vehicle. Are you planning to spirit me away to have your wicked way with me as you ravish me?"
I cough as I gag on my tongue. The thought had crossed my mind, admittedly.
She kisses my cheek gently, winking as she gets into the driver's seat...?
"My Lady, do you drive?"
She rubs the leather on the steering wheel, smirking.
"I have driven a few times. But never something as exquisite as this, or in such pleasant company."
Temptation rears its head again. To perhaps ignore our reservations and enjoy a more intimate setting.
"Have a care my lady, I'm feeling in a ravishing mood," I grin as I rub her shoulder gently.
Her response is a shiver as the car starts.
" 私の名前を言い。" (Say my name.)
I cannot thank my Lord enough for securing me a tutor in Japanese. He may come up as a topic of conversation tonight, he may not. The two of us are planning to enjoy ourselves and relish this chance to have a night off.
" あなたの命令で、篠崎さよこ。" (By your command, Shinozaki Sayoko.)
Her face flushes scarlet, contrasting her majestic smile as the acceleration kicks in and we speed off along the highway.
And I? The smile on my face may as well be carved from granite for how impossible it is to remove.
