Chapter 14: The Yearning of the Heart

Alternate Chapter Title: Letter from Above

Cryptography, the art of encoding messages, has been around for thousands of years, growing more sophisticated as time passes. Caesar developed the first known substitution cipher that relied on the secrecy of the method. In the 16th century, Vigenere developed an encryption key. The French developed the Great Cipher with counter measures against frequency analysis. Electricity brought another revolution to the realm of cryptography with the Hebern rotor machine, which one again was broken frequency analysis.

At this time, Britannia began playing on the global stage again and decided that good codes resistant to frequency analysis were a waste of time, and decided to flood the playing field instead. Every noble house made up their own code and codes became increasingly dependent on things like invisible ink. Official codes in Britannia also began to rely on indigenous languages which caused numerous decryption issues for the E.U. and China. A few families began pioneering visual cryptography, where they hid codes in visual mediums.

The E.U. and China did not rely on secrecy of the methodology and instead shifted towards digital encryption and decryption. In 2003, faced with computers decoding numerous secret codes, Britannia finally relented and began to develop their own digital encryption.

—Cryptography in Modern Times

Glenshire Woods, Near Fort Necessity, Pennsylvania

Lelouch heard the soft moans before anyone else. They came from behind the trees and Lelouch approached them warily, clutching the rifle, despite it not being deadly. If they were an enemy, they didn't necessarily know it just had blanks. And worst case, he could use it as a crude club.

"Hello?" he called out.

Alex jogged up beside him. "Lelouch?"

"Thought I heard someone. Help me check?" Lelouch asked without turning around as he walked forward, prodding the ground with the rifle in case there were any traps.

From behind the tree, a young fellow recruit slowly crawled into view and stared at him with wide eyes. "Please, help."

"Damn," muttered Alex as he walked closer. "That doesn't look good."

Lelouch frowned and walked beside him. His stomach rolled as he saw the other recruit lying in the snow, his body worryingly pale and plastered with dried blood.

"Alex. Get Edgar. He probably knows how to treat frostbite," Lelouch ordered. He walked closer to the young recruit pressed against his fallen comrade. "I'm going to help. What's your name?"

"Ovid," he said. "That's Victor."

Ovid's brown eyes stared at him harshly as he backed away to allow Lelouch to have a closer look. Lelouch carefully examined the head. He could see a small amount of swelling, but at least the cold had stemmed the blood flow. Holding his hand in front of Victor's mouth, Lelouch sighed in relief. The boy was still breathing steadily. It probably wasn't hypothermia yet which meant the frostbite would be easier to treat.

"I'm going to have my squad mates help move him. We need to warm him up. What happened to his head?"

"Tree branch broke and struck him on the head. Got my arm too, but it ain't broken. Just bruised." He scowled fiercely and spat, "The bastards left us 'cause we were slowing them down."

Edgar and Roy jogged over and stopped besides Lelouch. Roy stared at the two recruits. "Oh hell no. And we were almost there." Grumbling, he called over to Alex, "Bring the sled over and tell Henry to get up. And make sure you bring those rations and our hot water."

Lelouch stared at Roy in surprise. They would be losing valuable time and the wind was picking up, signaling the approaching storm. If they didn't make it to the base within the next hour or two, they would be trudging through a blizzard. Of course, a blizzard meant that Ovid and Victor might actually die.

Inspecting the body, Edgar asked, "How long have you been out here?"

"Since dawn... Tried to drag him, but my arm is pretty busted and we've got no food. Been trying to keep him war. But it ain't doing much, especially with the wind."

Edgar nodded. "Hey Roy, help me left him on the sled. Lelouch, you're going to help me get him in the sleeping bag. He's not too cold yet, but we need to protect him from the wind. Not sure what to do about the head wound. It looks pretty nasty."

Grabbing the sleeping bag, Lelouch waited for Roy and Edgar to settle Victor's body on the sled and began pulling the sleeping bag up. "The bleeding stopped. Head wounds tend to look a lot worse than they are. Probably has a concussion which isn't too great."

"Can you walk?" Roy asked Ovid. "We need to hurry. The faster we get your friend to base. The faster we can get them medical attention."

Lelouch stared off into the distance. "Alex is the lightest of us. And Henry is pretty rested. Have Henry run the sled and Alex can make sure that Victor isn't jostled too much."

"Aren't we supposed to stick together?" asked Alex as he bit into one of the rations and offered another to Ovid.

"Hate to say it, but Lelouch is right. Saving a life is more important than ambiguous instructions. Lelouch? Think you can find one of those cameras. Maybe they'll see and meet us halfway there." Roy turned to shout at Henry, his voice echoing across the snowy landscape, "Get over here!"

Looking up at the snowy canopy, Lelouch searched for the familiar flashes of light indicating a camera. It was harder with an overcast sky, but he managed. Alex, seeing his gaze, nodded and wrapped his arms around the trunk, as he began to scurry up with ease. Lelouch stood back, amazed. The tree creaked ominously and snow fell to the ground as Alex settled down on a branch and waved his hands before the camera and gestured to the sled.

"Three shorts, three long, three shorts," Lelouch hollered at Alex.

"What?"

"Emergency signal! Three short taps! Three long ones! And another three short!"

"What's a long tap!"

Lelouch groaned. "Just tap the lens and hold your finger down for a second or two. They just need to be longer than the short ones!"

Hopefully someone was watching and aware of their plight. Alex slid down the tree and sprinted over to Henry's sled where Roy was lugging Victor's body onto the sled. Snow crunched as Henry ran off dragging the sled and Alex. Lelouch turned to watch them go. Hopefully, they would arrive safe and sound or meet with a medical team from the base. At the very least, the med team could prepare for their arrival.

"We're all in this together, right?" asked Edgar.

Frederick, roused from his slumber, nodded. "I'd say the Drill Sergeant can't punish all of us, but he can."

"I'll take the blame," Lelouch offered, "he hates me enough that he should jump on the chance."

"No," Roy said, "you may be annoying twat, but we're a squad and made this decision together. I'll take the blame."

Lelouch didn't reply. He would let Roy think he had conceded.

Unknown Location, Pendragon

Marianne glanced at her limp body and felt a small shiver climb down her spine. It felt so wrong. Bismark and Charles stood to the side, looking at her expectantly.

Marianne closed her eyes and searched for the familiar tugging feel of the Geass. Unlike before, she could feel a small thread almost leading to her body. Testing the theory, Marianne walked around her body and felt the direction change. But frustratingly, when she tried to grasp it and end the utter humiliation of being a small child, it slipped through her fingers.

"Well?" Charles asked and tapped his foot impatiently.

"I apparently have a honing sense for my body. But no look on the returning part." Marianne tapped her fingers along her leg. The solution was frustratingly close, like the tip of her tongue. "I also feel... other connections? They aren't as strong, but they feel familiar."

Charles glanced at her body speculatively. "Perhaps Anya isn't a unique case? Your Geass might just require eye contact initially. If that's true, we—"

"Don't. We're fixing this bloody mess and I'm going to return to my nice adult body and then we're going on a date. You owe me for negotiating with the E.U."

"Of course Marianne," he smiled briefly and stared at her comatose body speculatively. "Perhaps, subconsciously, you do not want to return?"

Instinctively, she opened her mouth to protest and then clicked it shut. Charles had a point. Being in Anya's body was cathartic. Liberating. But it came with a bunch of downsides, mainly, being a child. She did not want to go through puberty again and if she ever wanted to reconnect with Lelouch, it would be helpful to be in her own body.

"Let's take a break Marianne," said Charles. "I've ordered dinner and we can catch up. I've missed you as well."

"This would be so much more romantic if I wasn't eight years old," Marianne muttered and Charles had the nerve to chuckle. Glaring up at him through her pink bangs, she hissed, "And what about Lelouch and Nunnally? What are they going to think, considering you leaked my health all over the news. They will be worried sick."

Charles briefly paused while lowering himself into the velvet lined chair. "I'm sure they'll—"

"If you say understand, we're going to have a problem."

"Fine," Charles huffed. "I'll write a letter. You could write one as well and assure them you're fine personally."

Marianne rolled her eyes. "In whose handwriting? It would be obvious if I sent the same letter twice. Besides, Lelouch hasn't been replying to my letters at all. I don't think he is reading them. How am I supposed to apologize if he won't even read them? Or give him his birthday present."

"Birthday?"

It shouldn't surprise her that he had once again forgotten. Unless it was Geass related, Charles had a terrible memory. Ironic since his Geass allowed him to alter the memory of others. "October and December Charles. Seriously, you were there. But don't worry, it's not like they're expecting anything from you."

Charles stood up and collected a couple pieces of paper. "Don't pout Marianne. It's disturbing. I can send a letter to Nunnally through Lord Ashford, but not to Lelouch."

At least he remembered their names. Marianne was quite sure that Charles had forgotten the names of all his younger children. They weren't important enough being too young to do anything significant.

The gold gilded fountain pen glided across the paper. Marianne grabbed an apple and bit into it.

Charles looked up at her briefly. "You did teach Lelouch the royal code? I did send them to Japan before Lelouch was old enough to formally learn it."

"Of course," Marianne replied. Lelouch had gone through one of his phases when he was six and picked up every book book on cryptography that he could get his hands on. It had been adorable when Lelouch insisted on only communicating through code in various hand signals of increasing complexity. She stopped in mid bite. "I think there might be a slight problem."

His eyebrows raised. "If I send this through the regular mail, it has to be encrypted. You claim he is intelligent, surely he will figure something out, especially if I include a copy of your previous letter."

Shaking her head, she bit in the apple contemplatively. "No. Not that. I'm just not sure if Lelouch realizes how special the code is."

He stared at her.

"Lelouch grabbed every code book he could get his hands on when he was six and I thought it would be a good opportunity to teach him the royal code. But I may have forgotten to tell him how important it was."

Charles had a strange look on his face and Marianne set aside her apple.

She offered with a grim smile, "It was time to change the codes anyway?"

Shaking his head, her husband returned to writing the letter. "You will inform him yourself once we solve this ridiculous situation."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, you'll be staying in Britannia. The Philippines will wait until we can be sure that you're not accidentally body hopping anymore." He paused and hastily added, "We don't understand how an activated Geass and the Thought Elevators mix. It's a simple precaution."

Marianne simply smiled and took another bite of the apple. It was always amusing to know that Charles actually cared. "Then we have time for a date if we'll be experimenting."

And there, at the edge of his lips, she could see a fond smile forming. It was nice being home. Now if only she had her children here.

Fort Necessity, Pennsylvania

Lelouch stood before the Drill Sergeant snapped at attention as the wind buffeted his body. The man had been waiting for them under a small umbrella and next to a heater. Every ounce of his body screamed displeasure, but there was nothing that Lelouch or the squadron could do. As their noses turned red from the nipping cold wind, they waited for him to speak.

The Drill Sergeant walked forward and the snow crunched beneath his feet. His hard eyes bore into them. They didn't budge.

Lelouch met the gaze firmly, knowing that he would face the man's ire, There was no avoiding it. The Drill Sergeant hated him and Lelouch would use that to his advantage. Seeing him take the blame, should at least, endear him to his squad mates and Lelouch was in desperate need of allies, especially those who would trust him. One day his facade would slip slightly too much, and then those allies would be necessary to prevent anyone from coming to the obvious conclusion. After all, nobody would believe a prince to be friends with, so called, worthless commoners.

The Drill Sergeant barked, "Well. I thought I told you to return as a group. Where is Private Henry Sullivan and Private Alex Doe? They were members of your group, weren't they?"

"Yes Drill Sergeant," they chorused. It was the first time he had called them privates. Lelouch wondered if perhaps they had earned some respect although it was impossible to tell from the Drill Sergeant's unrelenting gaze.

"Why is Private Sullivan and Private Doe not with you?"

Lelouch stepped forward, ready to take the blame. Roy also took a step forward and Lelouch glared at him. His plan had a lower chance of working if the other boy interfered. The Drill Sergeant hated him. It was a fact. The man would happily take the opportunity to use Lelouch as a scapegoat; he had before.

"Well," barked the Drill Sergeant.

Lelouch swallowed and steadied his nerves. He didn't know what sort of punishment awaited him, but he would bare it.

Before he could speak, Roy cut in, "I ordered Private Henry Sullivan and Private Alex Doe to escort Private Victor to the base. It was my opinion that his condition was serious enough that immediate medical care was needed Drill Sergeant."

Lelouch took a step forward. "Our squadron split apart because I overstepped my bound Drill Sergeant."

"Shut up," Roy hissed quietly, "I've got this.

The Drill Sergeant gazed at both of them, not amused. "So who is at fault here? Shampoo or Toothpick?"

The snow crunched beneath Ovid's feet as he too, took a step forward. "This squad saved mine and Victor's life Drill Sergeant. If they're at fault, then so am I."

The eyes narrowed. "And who decided to make the sleds out of military property?"

"I did Drill Sergeant," Lelouch said as he took the opportunity to draw the Drill Sergeant's attention again. It had been fully his decision and no one else would take the blame. "The others had nothing to do with it."

"Bullshit!" Shouted Edgar. He marched through the snow and stared at the Drill Sergeant's eyes. "Lelouch didn't do anything. I was the one who made the sleds and took the wooden shelves."

Frederick snorted from the side, but added, "I helped as well Drill Sergeant. We are all guilty. It would not be fair to punish Lelouch."

The Drill Sergeant's face stayed impassive as his eyes swept over them. "All of you will turn in your weapons and dog tags to the quartermaster. Afterwards, you'll immediately turn yourself in at the guardhouse. You're all being indefinitely detained for insubordination."

"Yes Drill Sergeant."

Almost eagerly, they turned to the gate. It would be warm inside and whatever the Drill Sergeant could come up with as punishment, would be nothing compared to the freezing winds outside. Inside would be better.

"Shampoo and Toothpick, you stay," ordered the Drill Sergeant just as they passed through the gate.

The two froze and the other members of their squadron stared at them guiltily, before turning back to the base, under the warning gaze of the Drill Sergeant. Lelouch turned around. Despite ruining his plans, Lelouch felt grateful. His squad mates hadn't left him out to hang. Instead, they almost seemed to care. It still would have been better had they let Lelouch carry out his plans.

The Drill Sergeant stared at him and Roy. His gaze was unforgiving, then, the edge of his mouth twitched. "Fadiman and Lamperouge, eh? Don't ever try to lie to me again."

"It wasn't a lie," Lelouch answered. "If it hadn't been for me, the squadron would have never committed insubordination."

Roy shook his head and elbowed Lelouch. "As the squad leader, the actions of the squad are my fault. I take full responsibility."

The Drill Sergeant was quiet again as he stared at the two of them. "You planning on a promotion boys?"

"Of course," Roy began.

The Drill Sergeant cut him off. "Then learn to play the system Fadiman. Lamperouge was planning on that before the rest of the squad ruined it," he paused and looked at Lelouch. "Don't look so surprised boy. Nobody with any common sense would hang themselves to dry before someone who hated them. And considering your... stature, I assume you have some common sense to have survived."

"Apologies," Lelouch bowed his head, feeling as if the floor had suddenly been removed from underneath him. The Drill Sergeant was supposed to hate him. People jumped to conclusion when they were angry. He had offered the perfect opportunity. It didn't make sense. Instead, the Drill Sergeant had seen through him.

The Drill Sergeant sighed. "This is training for a reason. If you tried to pull such a trick against a noble, they would have you flogged along with every single person in your squad or platoon. No pretty words will save you then. And as Private Lamperouge so helpfully pointed out on the first day, killing an enlisted soldier is treason, but you forgot, there are worse things than death. Never give a noble a reason to hate you, only show success."

Lelouch shivered at the dark tone. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest decision to attempt to anger a man who had complete control over his life. Nunnally would never forgive him if he got hurt, and his mother, she would have a fit if he ever got flogged.

"Drill Sergeant?" asked Roy.

"Yes?"

"Isn't it my duty to protect my squadron? If I blame them for my actions, then I will never have their trust."

"Do you know how many soldiers are discharged and then often have a fatal accident Private Fadiman?"

Lelouch felt sick. The answer had always been before him. After all, how often did a noble family assassinate a rival? His own mother had personally ended multiple people's careers. And, he never heard of them again. They could be alive, but perhaps they weren't. The Emperor had the OSI to monitor and vanish those he disliked. Lelouch knew that. It just had never truly clicked.

A noble could order him to shoot his best friend, and if he didn't, then he would die. Nunnally would die. The rest of his family would die or live in disgrace. Lelouch had protection in the form of his secret identity, but others didn't have a trump card up their sleeves. Was the soldier at fault? Or was the noble? Were they both at fault?

He wanted to blame someone. The Emperor was definitely guilty, but did he even have the power to stop? If Nunnally sat on the throne, would she, despite her kind heart, be completely unable to stop such atrocities? His fits clenched and the gloves creaked. There was no one to blame, but a system built on two centuries of oppression. How did one fight a system?

The Drill Sergeant continued, "Congratulations on being the second group to arrive. Get inside. You're still being punished for insubordination."

"Yes Drill Sergeant."

Lelouch and Roy scurried past the gate and into the warm compound. Neither talked, too busy mulling. Lelouch glanced back. The Drill Sergeant was a mystery, an unknown variable, and he loathed mysteries.

Ashford Academy, Area 11

Sitting down slowly, Nunnally tried to understand. Her mother was ill? Had been attacked? Assassinated? There had been no official word from Britannia, but she could hear the boys and girls gossiping. Something had happened to Empress Marianne, and Nunnally, was the last one to find out. She should have been the first one to know. Marianne was her mother. It wasn't fair.

Milly pulled her into a soft hug and pressed something into her hands. "Grandfather wanted me to deliver this. It's urgent."

Her hands curled around the paper and she nodded, her mind still in shock.

"I'm sure she's okay. I'll make an excuse for the teachers. Take a day off."

Nunnally stood still. Her mother was injured. She didn't want to lose her mother. Her mother was constantly risking her life. What if she died thinking that Nunnally hated her? Their letters and occasional phone calls were brief, but Nunnally could never find enough to say. She was still so angry and unable to articulate her feelings properly. But now? Now, she just felt mind numbing fear. Marianne was her mother.

Grasping her cane, she tapped it along the ground ahead of her as she slipped away and returned to her dorm room. The letter burned in her pocket. What did it say? Would it say that her mother was dead? Nunnally swallowed. Her mother couldn't die, not yet.

Her hands shook as she stopped in front of her dorm room and tried to insert the key. The key scratched across the doorknob, before finally settling into the hole and turning. The door swung shut behind Nunnally and she settled down on the bed in the corner. Grabbing the letter, she turned it over. It smelled fresh. It hadn't been sent overseas like the ones from Lelouch or her mother. Her fingers found the small little flap where the letter had been glued shut.

It was unopened. Surely, if it was bad news, Reuben would have pulled her aside and not delivered the information so distantly. Lelouch's plan didn't matter if her mother was dying in a hospital bed. Her hands shook and she growled as the paper refused to rip.

Stumbling off her bed to the desk, Nunnally searched for a letter opener. It grazed against her hand, drawing blood, but she didn't care. Nunnally ignored the stinging sensation and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Her hands traced over the small bumps.

And again.

Her mother was fine. Apparently, she had been under a bit too much stress and had a slight relapse. Tears formed in her eyes.

And at the end, she whispered the words in amazement, "your father."

Never, in all of her memories, had he ever referred to himself as such. It was always Charles zi Britania. The Emperor did not make sentimental gestures. When she had been younger, she would have loved to have such an acknowledgment. Now, it felt strange. Years too late. But, she couldn't stop the small feeling of weightlessness in her chest. He cared. Her father cared.

The door opened and Allie called, "Nunnally?"

She raised her head.

"You're crying. Did something happen?"

Yes and Nunnally couldn't share. She wanted her brother, but he was far away. Still, she owed some sort of explanation to her friend. "My father wrote."

"And is that bad?" The bed creaked and Allie settled down beside her, a comforting hand on Nunnally's back.

"I always thought he didn't care," Nunnally admitted. "I was always so desperate for him to notice me. Lelouch would always comfort me when he ignored me. I drew so many pictures of us, but he was always too busy."

Allie continued to rub her back soothingly.

A small hiccup and Nunnally continued. "And then I couldn't see and it was just Lelouch and I. He was always there for me. And everyone talks about their parents. You talk about yours. Rick talks about his. Even Sally does... And Lelouch, he acts more like a father should than my actual father... And I miss him."

Her best friend pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay. He can't do anything here and you can always have my dad if you want. He's amazing."

"I'm just so confused. It's the first time he ever called himself my father... and I hate it. Because he never did so before. And now he dares, but I also want him to write again, to say it, and be my father. I'm not Lelouch... I can't just cut people off."

"Cut people off?"

The tears were flowing freely now and Nunnally desperately tried to stop them and rubbed her eyes. "He's so mad at mother. It's been almost a year, but he hasn't talked to her at all. He doesn't open any of her letters. But I... I can't. I shouldn't forgive her. I hated her... but I still read her letters and she's always fighting and what if something happens?"

"Sometimes it's harder to keep caring," Allie said. "Gwen and me have an older brother you know. We don't talk about him much. But he constantly disappears and then he'll come back, all confused and hurt. Sometimes the coppers find him. Sometimes he is gone for months. And every time we're terrified he won't come back."

"And?"

Allie laughed darkly. "And nothing. We can't do anything but wait and hope."

Fort Necessity, Pennsylvania

Lelouch massaged his wrists as he returned to the barracks. The stay in the guardhouse had been brief, just a night, but Lelouch wasn't particularly eager to return. Not being able to use his hands had been terrifying and nightmares plagued his sleep as his mind conjured images of assassins and kidnappers. In one dream, he had watched Nunnally taken away, while he lay helplessly on the ground, unable to move.

Jerking away from a gentle nudge, Lelouch looked at Alex who smiled guiltily and asked, "You okay?"

Lelouch took a deep breath and calmed his racing heart, letting the tension drain away. No one should ever suspect that something was wrong. That was weakness. "I'm fine."

Alex stared at him dubiously, but didn't press the issue further.

Looking around the barracks, Lelouch watched in confusion as people sat or lay on the ground. Busy. His eyes swept the room and stopped at the side table and the small pile of letters. Letters. Nunnally. Mail day.

Not waiting for Alex, Lelouch purposefully strode over and began scanning the letters. There were eight letters. Two he immediately recognized as from Nunnally, and another one was from his mother. Not bothering to open the latter, he dumped it in the trash incinerator and sat down by the wall, tearing open Nunnally's letters.

Alex sat down besides him. "You didn't even read it."

"Uhuh," Lelouch muttered as his fingers skimmed the page. Nunnally was doing well and at the end, she asked him to smell the letter. He brought it up to his nose. Very faintly, but there was the smell of cherry blossoms. A small smile curled on his face.

Peering over his shoulder, Alex asked, "Is it good news? Why is it blank? There's nothing written on there. How can you read it?"

Lelouch sighed and turned his body away, so he could begin reading the next letter. Their cousin was apparently doing a lot better. Perhaps adjusting was also difficult for Milly. Despite her exuberance, she never had much opportunity to interact with other people. His finger slowly moved downwards as he relaxed and let Nunnally's voice wash over him. He missed her.

Roy stopped besides him, snagged the letter out of his hand, and checked both sides. "There's nothing on it?"

"Give that back," he ordered as he stood up, his voice cold.

Raising his eyebrows, Roy looked at the paper again. "It's just got a bunch of bumps on it? Seriously what is this?"

"Braille. It's from my sister. She's blind. Now give it back." Lelouch snatched the letter back and moved further away from the duo.

Alex slid up to him and stared at the letter with blatant curiosity. "You gotta a sister? I didn't know that. How's she blind?"

Lelouch glared at the two boys who watched him like a hawk. There were too many questions. "Leave me alone."

They stood by the wall as he sat down in the corner, pressed against a bunk bed, and resumed reading. Nunnally was planning a toga party with Milly which she was looking forward to. Her letter seemed positive although Lelouch couldn't shake the feeling that not everything was smelling like roses. Still, if something important came up, she would tell him. Wouldn't she? Nunnally always told him. It was his job to protect her after all.

Lelouch pulled out a piece of paper and a small pencil. Taking his pocket knife, he sharpened the end to a fine needle point. Then carefully, he squeezed the piece of paper between his legs and pulled on it with his left hand, until the paper was taunt. Quickly, but methodically, he used the pencil to pierce the paper and begin writing his reply.

From afar, Alex asked, "Is this normal for you family folks?"

"No," Roy replied. "Don't know what he's thinking. The Drill Sergeant is going to be mad if he catches him doing that. Think he'll answer properly if we ask him again?"

"So throwing letters in the trash ain't normal either?"

"After reading them, sure. Well, if they aren't from important people," said Roy.

Alex snorted. "Lelouch didn't read it at all. He did have that annoyed look on his face."

Lelouch's eyebrow ticked and the paper tore slightly as he used too much force to pierce the paper.

"Spam?" Roy suggested.

Looking up, Lelouch glared at the two and they flinched backwards. "Will you please shut up? My sister is blind. I'm writing in braille. The letter was from my mother and before you ask, the other four are from friends back home. Now go away and give me some privacy."

Roy, predictably, ignored him and decided to invade Lelouch's personal space instead. "So what's in the mystery letter?"

Setting down his letter to Nunnally, Lelouch silently counted to ten. Clenching his jaw, he grabbed the mystery letter away from Roy's curious hands. Whoever had sent the letter might know of his real identity and, potentially, had been less than careful. He would never allow anyone to read his mail.

Pointedly, he asked, "Don't you have your own letters? Or something better to do than bother me?"

Alex stared at him, silently reminding Lelouch that he wouldn't have letters, for he lacked a family. To Lelouch it had been a reasonable question because Alex might have friends. It wasn't like Lelouch's hundred or so relatives would even consider to write.

"I had a short phone call," Roy answered and sat down on the floor, apparently having no intention of leaving Lelouch alone. "Besides, as I said, you're a bit of a mystery. And I can't help but feel like you-know-what is something you want to me think."

A phone call. Nobody was supposed to get phone calls, but apparently, even in the army, wealth came with special privileges. It was unfair. Lelouch wanted to talk to Nunnally. Whatever family Roy had talked to was surely less special than Nunnally. She deserved better than an absent brother. And You-know-what? Lelouch most certainly did not. Feigning understanding, Lelouch opened the mystery letter.

His heart jumped up in his chest.

There was nothing special about the letter. Except for being absolutely bland, meandering, and idiotic. Or that was what it seemed.

The tail end of the "e" was curled inwards. It was simple enough that Lelouch would mistake it for a handwriting quirk if he hadn't learned otherwise. Instead, it meant that the message was encoded. A highly simplistic code in Lelouch's opinion that heavily relied on memorization. It was by far his least favorite code, especially after having witnessing the consequences of Britannia's philosophy of might makes right. The key was On the Origin of Species. A copy of which Lelouch was sure every member of his family and probably the rest of the nobility as well, had flying around somewhere.

Matching the small curl to the key he memorized in his youth, Lelouch mentally began scanning the diagonals of the letter. The first letter of each word was matched with the first instance of a word beginning with that letter in the concluding chapter. The concluding letter of that word was the encoded letter. Of course, not every letter could be referenced as such, which left Lelouch with a variety of letters that didn't make sense.

The message, with a few corrections, read as follows:

Your mother has fallen ill, but should recover soon. This is not due to an assassination attempt, despite reports to the contrary. Because you won't answer her letters, she insists that I write to you myself in hopes that you read this. You will reply so we don't have to continue this ridiculous exercise. I've included a copy of the letter as a precaution. In the lower right corner, you'll find a belated birthday gift from myself. Destroy this letter afterwards.

Lelouch looked down at the corner and the small detailed embellishments. Looking at it closely he could make a lightly penciled sequence within: OLB12599. He snorted. Of course the bastard used his birthday.

Still.

Lelouch looked up, unsure of what to make of the gesture. It was unlike his father to express care, even if his mother coerced him into it. It was befuddling. Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore his mother anymore. The coded message had been an order and Lelouch knew he wouldn't like the consequence that would follow his disobedience. Even his mother would not be able to save him then.

Roy groaned loudly. "You're not even listening to me are you? So who was the letter from?"

Unable to keep the confusion out of his voice, Lelouch said, "My father. He gave me a birthday present."

A very useful one. The identification code would allow him to act in the Emperor's name if the need ever arose. Such codes were rare and almost entirely given to the Emperor's own secret agents and the Knight of the Round. His mother had one. Did that make Lelouch an agent of his father?

He shuddered. A terrifying thought.

"That bad?" Roy asked. "Why did he write anyway? If you're here, he obviously doesn't care much."

Lelouch pursed his lips. It would be extremely beneficial if he knew what assumption Roy had made, but as he didn't, he stuck as close to the truth as possible. "My mother got injured. Apparently she has been nagging him as a result."

Scrunching his forehead, Roy stared at Lelouch. The confusion was obvious. Whatever Roy thought, Lelouch's answer had not conformed to his expectations. Good. It meant Roy didn't suspect Lelouch of being a prince: somehow.

"If you're going to bother me, then you can throw this in the trash," Lelouch continued.

Roy grabbed the letter and glanced it over, but had enough common sense to not read the letter. "You're strange. Most people keep letters from their parents. Sentiment you know. So what does your mother do?"

Pulling out the second sheet of paper, a scanned copy of what was originally his mother's letter, Lelouch said, "My mother works in the military." Bitterly, he added, "She partakes in the invasions."

"Isn't that good?" Roy asked as he disposed of the letter. "You can earn a lot of honor that way. Lots of opportunities."

Lelouch snorted. "Honor? Honor is a worthless currency of dead men and women."

Roy sat down and looked at him with concern. "That's rather bleak. I would say it measures the strength of someone's character instead. But how did she bug your father then?"

"My father... he is also in the military. That was how they met." It was almost the truth. They had met because of her test piloting the Ganymede.

"I'm sorry," said Roy and he spoke with such honesty that Lelouch looked up, startled. "That must be difficult for you and your sister. That shouldn't happen."

Lelouch narrowed his eyes at the teen, trying to understand, once again, what conclusion he had drawn. Whatever it was, Roy had become noticeably more tolerable as a result... and even friendly. It was strange, but Roy hadn't begun kissing his boots or anything, so his secret was probably safe. Still, it was disconcerting. Perhaps his mother would understand?

No. He may have been ordered to reply to her, but he wasn't going to ask for her help.

Worldbuilding Thoughts:

-Technology in canon is really behind compared to modern 2018. I'm chalking up this to numerous factors, but a big one is that the Space Race didn't happen. This causes a lot of ripple effects which are rather fun to play with, but also severely limit the surveillance abilities of the Britannian Empire. Should make things more interesting.

-Saw a post that Suzaku doesn't have a phone... He really doesn't seem to have one. He even uses Euphie's phone to call Lelouch. I thought Honorary Britannians were allowed to own phones, but this seems not to be the case.

-A lot of the worldbuilding in Akito makes no sense to me, so I'm officially not bothering with it anymore. I may pay homage to it and reuse some of its characters, but I'm treating it as non-canon, at the same level as the companion novels that exist.

Author's note:

Thank you x1tears1X on FFN for your help with this chapter. If anyone else wants to beta, just ask? :)

So lately my chapters have been pretty long which I know some people don't like. I can either make future chapters a little bit shorter or keep them around this length. What do you guys think?

FFN: Email notifications for PMs are still not working. :(