Title: Chawwie

Rating: K

Summary: The emperor chances upon his son in front of a mirror.

Author: SomebodyLost: fanfiction [.net] /u/1985447/ or archiveofourown [.org] /users/SomebodyLost/works


"Ruroosh vi Britanya commands you... NILL!"

Lelouch gaped, flabbergasted at the small child shouting at the full-length mirror. Donning a Cheese-kun blankie over his royal raiment, his son clumsily swept the makeshift cloak, keeping an eye covered with a hand as he waved a chubby arm through the air in a gesture of attempted dignity. The uncovered eyebrow was scrunched in concentration. All semblance of determination flew out the window when their eyes met in the mirror.

"Papa!" the toddler squealed, running towards him, arms outstretched.

A reflexive smile crossed Lelouch's face as he kneeled. He never planned for children, but he still felt blessed for this happy accident. "Hello, son. What are you doing?"

"You!"

"Oh, I see!" Lelouch touched the knot that held the blankie in place; a toddler wouldn't be able to tie it that tightly. "Did Mama put this for you?"

"Yesh!"

"Why?"

"So I can bee like you!"

Lelouch couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable enthusiasm. "Why do you want to be like me?"

"Becosh I can't bee like grampa! Mama says grampa is bad!" His son stopped fidgeting, and a perplexed expression crossed his face. "Why is grampa bad?"

Ah, so he must've seen one of the terrorist's broadcasts. When Lelouch ascended the throne he had immediately stopped the previous Emperor's broadcasts, but he didn't erase them. The world was still healing, but in the future he would make sure that history would remember the sins of Charles zi Britannia.

Unfortunately, some of the nobility saw Charles' tyranny as the glory days and attempted to usurp Lelouch from his position. In just a few more days though, his pieces would be in position to eradicate them.

Dark thoughts didn't cloud Lelouch's gentle smile. "Because he did bad things. But don't call him grandpa, alright? Call him..." Lelouch fought to reign in his smirk. "Charlie."

"Okay!" His son easily agreed, waving his chubby arms cheerfully. "Chawwie!"


Author's Note: Mom is ambiguous to prevent naval combat.