Disclaimer: Code Geass – with its characters, settings, and all other borrowed elements here – is the sole property of its creators. In other words, yeah, it's not mine, and I'm not making money out of this. Enjoy the fic; author's note at the very end.

Trial and Error

. : 2 : .

As expected, for a short time after that incident Luciano Bradley was on his best behavior.

That wasn't saying much, if truth be told. But if nothing else, the effort he put into it was remarkable. Every time he was in the boy's presence - during debriefings, mission outlines (such as this one), and other such meetings, try as he might he could not fight off the uneasiness that would creep, against his will, into his veins.

He knew his crime: he had deliberately laid hands on, and attempted to murder, a Knight of the Rounds.

What he didn't know was his sentence. It was a...strange position, being part of this exclusive order. Knights of the Rounds were generally out of reach of the long arm of the law in Britannia. On the other hand, so much as throwing a punch at one of the Twelve usually led to the gallows for even the most decorated soldiers. So it was an interesting situation he'd put himself into; would they find a middle ground for him?

He chuckled absentmindedly at the thought.

"Something you'd like to share, Lord Bradley?"

"Not particularly," he drawled, giving Bismarck a slight shrug for an apology. "Do go on."

The Knight of One let out a disapproving sigh, before eventually continuing his instructions. There was something in there about an uprising in Area 21, formation-this, His-Majesty-that. Luciano kept on an impassive smile, and his body was turned to face Bismarck completely, but his eyes and thoughts were elsewhere.

Suzaku was on the opposite end of the table at which they were all seated, his hands clasped and barely resting on the table's edge as he listened intently. It had been three days, and yet....

Well. Maybe all this worrying was unnecessary on his part; after all, he would never be sentenced unless Suzaku actually reported what he had done.

Luciano frowned. When was this Eleven going to turn him in?

That day, he had waited a good ten minutes after Suzaku had left before he even set foot outside Kouzuki's cell. And all day, he had been waiting for...something - a warrant of arrest, an escort to an interrogations office, Bismarck taking him aside and giving him a stern warning. Hell, even having Suzaku point at him yelling "He tried to kill me!" would have surprised him far less than what was happening now - nothing.

The frown on his face evolved quickly into a scowl as he studied the boy more closely now. He was well-behaved as always, giving his undivided attention to whoever was speaking at any time, and promptly delivering an opinion when asked. They hadn't spoken directly since the incident, but the way Suzaku was acting it was almost as though he didn't even remember what had happened at all, or had simply chosen to dismiss it.

That possibility riled him. He would not be ignored by a mere Number (no matter if it got him off scot-free from a potential felony.) How dare he.

"So then. The operation will commence at exactly thirteen-hundred hours. You all have your orders."

He barely even recalled that he was in a meeting, but years of doing this job had conditioned him enough to stand at attention, giving the Knights' salute as they were officially dismissed. He tried, for all of three seconds, to remember what his orders may have been, before realizing it didn't matter in the least - on the battlefield, all that mattered was killing off the enemy forces. More kills led to less resistance which led to quick victory; he failed to see how it could get simpler than that.

(Of course, on a more personal level, more kills simply meant more chances for him to take away precious lives from frightened, hysterical soldiers; he loved his job so much.)

Gino was bounding out of the room in a heartbeat, chattering about what he wanted to have for lunch while dragging Anya along with him. He looked around. The other women had decided to stay and converse among themselves in the lounge while Bismarck remained to shut down the multimedia presentation that had accompanied his mission outline.

And as such he found himself and Suzaku heading for the door at roughly the same time.

There was a pause, and his eyes locked onto pools of jade. Suzaku faltered mid-step, as though suddenly unsure. But then he bowed his head slightly, and made his way into the corridor.

Luciano followed him, and made no attempt whatsoever to conceal the fact that he was doing so.

He kept several steps behind, and as such was free to observe the boy at leisure. Suzaku always carried himself with intensity - shoulders thrown back, chin up, body straight as an arrow, eyes set dead-ahead. Every step seemed measured, each footfall precise. It was a far cry from how Gino ambled along, how Monica sashayed towards her destination, how Anya shuffled her feet silently with her gaze glued to the electronic diary in her hands.

It wasn't even the same as how Bismarck walked; while they shared the rigid posture and determined strides, the Knight of One commanded respect simply by stepping into a room and filling it with his sheer presence. The Eleven, on the other hand, exuded an air of personal confidence marred by a touch of insecurity...as though he were never good enough, as though he perpetually had something to prove.

After a few more minutes of this, Luciano Bradley decided it was time for a conversation - whatever for, he didn't know, but if for nothing else it would at least keep him amused.

"So," he started, dissolving the silence that had ruled the hallway in a single second. "Do you think those Twenty-ones will put up much of a fight today?"

"It's hard to tell at this point," Suzaku answered. "Lord Waldstein has promised we would offer them a chance to surrender first. How much of a fight remains would depend on how many of them take us up on that offer."

He snorted. "What a waste of time. It's not as though they'll be pardoned anyway." And the more troops surrender, the less there are to kill, and the less fun I can have, he thought to himself, but he didn't say it aloud.

"Perhaps not, but...at least they'll be spared on the battlefield. And they will be tried according to international law."

Which is all so boring, he wanted to say, but Suzaku had stopped walking and fallen behind him. He halted as well, and that was when he realized where they were - the entrance to the Special Envoy's main laboratory. Had they been walking that long?

"I'll see you on the battlefield today, Lord Bradley."

"Yes. Try not to get yourself killed, Lord Kururugi..." He would have left right then and there, had he not realized what a golden opportunity this was. "Not that you would care either way, apparently," he continued without missing a beat. "Am I right?"

"That's not true," the boy answered, a little too quickly. An intense flash of green eyes - ah, so he did remember, that much was certain now - coupled a slight furrow of his brows. "I just..." He would have waited patiently for him to finish that train of thought, but Suzaku killed it himself; snapping his mouth shut, he squared his shoulders, his face a blank slate. "There are more important things than that."

"Bullshit!" he spat out harshly, and for a second he thought the boy's reaction - eyes widened in surprise, a sudden tension in his frame, all a far cry from the stoic numbness he usually displayed - single-handedly made his outburst entirely worth it. "That's not even possible. I've seen it, countless times - every person I ever threatened to kill would beg me not to. They'd bargain for their lives, their most precious thing. Of course," he grinned widely, "it just made it sweeter when I took it away, but that's beside the point now."

Suzaku didn't respond to that, only eyeing him in an odd way. Nonplussed, he stretched lazily and tried to recall the faces of the soldiers, civilians, and prisoners he'd killed in his lifetime. It was fruitless - there were so many of them; they'd merged into a collective, faceless entity that didn't even make a sound when it screamed.

"The point is, it's a part of human nature - life is always the most precious thing to every person. Every single one." He stopped himself abruptly and spun on his heel, facing the other Knight. "And surely you know why that is, Lord Kururugi?"

"Enlighten me, Lord Bradley," came the wary reply.

"Because once you lose your life, you lose everything!" Unwittingly he took a step forward; Suzaku backed away correspondingly, but he hardly noticed, merely stepping forward again. The fact that this monkey could not seemingly comprehend the most basic principles of humanity utterly astounded him. And it frustrated him as well, despite the grin he plastered on his face as he advanced. "Everything you've worked for, all the goals you've accomplished and all the plans you've made - all of those mean nothing if you are dead!"

His mind barely registered how his right hand had reached into an inside pocket, drawing a dagger and brandishing it as Suzaku's back hit the wall (and even that did not stop his approach.) "And everything and everyone you hold dear to you, will be cut off from you entirely, for all eternity. That is why everyone is so terrified to die!" He raised the knife; his hand was trembling slightly, but he wasn't sure whether it was from the familiar predatory rush, or from something else entirely. The muscles in his face were starting to become sore from all the grinning. "Do you understand now?"

He brought the dagger down. (Because damned if this boy still didn't get it; he would show him himself.)

Strong fingers curled around his wrist at the last possible moment, halting the dagger's forward thrust.

"Hah!" he shouted in triumph; he was right, and was just about to point it out and rub it in the other Knight's face. But there were three things he noticed in that frame of time that gave him pause: one, Suzaku's expression was steely and blank, as it often was. Two, the lethal tip of the dagger was just barely grazing the center of his forehead, and yet (three) he could feel the telltale warmth from the boy's hand as even as it seeped through his glove.

Suzaku...even in a situation like this, he realized, Suzaku was not scared at all.

"Lord Bradley," the Knight of Seven began after a spell of silence that had been particularly long. "If you want to kill me, cross blades with me. Because this..." He eyed the dagger distastefully. "This is just an insult to us both."

Slowly, very slowly, Luciano withdrew the dagger and placed it back into its harness, one of the many he kept underneath the long coat of his uniform.

"Why didn't you report what happened in Kouzuki's cell?" he demanded.

"I saw that coming." The boy shook his head, suddenly seeming so tired, before he answered. "Because it wouldn't matter...because it wouldn't change anything, at least not for the better." He raised his head and met the taller Knight's gaze. "Like I said, if you want me dead, challenge me to an honorable duel. I promise I won't make it easy for you, but at least it will be a more dignified approach. Does that sound fair?"

It was all becoming painfully clear now. Luciano realized this as he stepped back several paces, regarding the boy from afar with a morbid kind of curiosity. Suzaku was different from "every person" he had killed; he was not even remotely like them. Suzaku Kururugi was an anomaly. No other word could possbily describe a boy who didn't bother to report an attempt on his life, and who just seconds ago had seemed perfectly unperturbed pressed up against a wall and held at knife-point.

He was...

"You're an idiot," he said bluntly. "I can't believe they let you become a Knight of the Rounds."

Suzaku laughed at that, but it sounded so dead and hollow and quiet, far too quiet to hold any real mirth.

"I get that a lot," was all he said, before throwing open the door to the laboratory. "If you'll excuse me."

(And he was always so polite, even when he had just been assaulted and insulted by the same man who tried to kill him three days ago.)

It came as no surprise that they secured a victory in Area 21 that day. Not one of the stubborn freedom fighters there had willingly surrendered, and Luciano Bradley gleefully went on a killing spree whose casualties included the enemy commander, around a hundred soldiers and pilots, and a dozen civilians who tearfully offered him anything and everything - (the richer ones offered money, the less-fortunate went even lower) - to spare them.

Only he was not so gleeful the entire time. Even as blood spattered onto his Knightmare and anguished screams rang clearly from the speakers in his cockpit, a tiny part of his mind did not partake in the joy. That tiny part, which should have been insignificant but somehow wasn't, was preoccupied with how he had threatened to kill Suzaku twice, and both times he did not care.

He hadn't been prepared for the boy's answer during the first time (and what happened after that was an embarrassing memory he pointedly chose to ignore.) But that morning, in the hallway - he could have done it. He could have pulled out another dagger with his left hand and rammed it into that damn Eleven's gut without blinking. Nothing would have been easier.

Of course, there would be no hiding the evidence then, and he would be sanctioned with...whatever punishment would be dealt. But he knew it wasn't the fear of the repercussions that made him draw back and let the other Knight go. It was...well it was the fact that it just wasn't fun anymore.

He no longer doubted that Suzaku Kururugi was a strange man who did not prioritize his life above all other things. And Luciano Bradley, the Vampire of Britannia, found pleasure, found sheer fulfillment in taking away that one most precious thing people held dear; if, for some reason, Suzaku didn't consider his own life to be that 'thing,' then what was the point?

This was the reason, he convinced himself, that he was now sitting cross-legged on the cold floor of the dark prison cell, a few feet away from the infamous Ace of the Black Knights.

"Is it you?" he asked, bemused.

Kallen Kouzuki was lying on her side with her back against the wall, dressed in the familiar white Britannian prisoners' garb with her ankles and wrists bound, the latter behind her back. Her hair was unkempt and dishevelled, and a bruise was beginning to heal on her neck. But her eyes were sharp and burning with a kind of ferocity that had not dimmed despite her circumstances, and her voice was crisp when she replied. "Is what me?"

"Suzaku's most precious thing." Luciano tilted his head comically when she seemed apalled at the suggestion, deciding he probably needed to elaborate. "He would come here twice a day, personally, to deliver your food. Menial chores like that are supposed to be beneath a Knight of the Rounds." He paused, and added in afterthought, "Although he probably stopped after that incident three days ago, I imagine - "

"He still does."

Normally he would be livid that a prisoner, and a mere Number at that, dared to interrupt him mid-sentence. But this revelation pleased him. "Oho. Did he say anything about it?"

"No." Kallen eyed him curiously for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to press on. He gave her five seconds to make up her mind...four...three...two... "What's it to you?"

He grinned; right on cue. "I like knowing what people hold most dear to them. It's just the way I am. I enjoy taking those things away." He took out one of his daggers, black with a streak of dark pink, and idly tossed it up into the air. "If I were to ask you, dear Eleven, what is the one thing you hold most dear...it's life, isn't it?" He caught the dagger by the hilt as it fell, tossing it up once more. He did not wait for her to reply. "Of course it is. It's always life." Catch, toss. "Suzaku doesn't agree." He caught the dagger one last time and stared straight into her eyes. "But you already know that."

"I'm not blind," she replied icily. "Is that what this is then? You want revenge for three days ago?"

"Revenge?" Luciano threw back his head and laughed. The deranged sound echoed in the small, empty cell several times over. "There is no room in my mind for anything that complicated, dear Eleven. I simply want to take his most precious thing away. So I will ask you again." He twirled the dagger menacingly in his hands, basking in the flash of fear that had appeared briefly in the prisoner's bright blue eyes. "Is it you?"

Kallen kept her eyes on the dagger, as though mesmerized by the glint of the blade whenever it caught the feeble light seeping in from the crack underneath the door. When she finally met his gaze again, she broke into a quiet chuckle.

"You...really don't know anything about him, do you?"

Luciano thought about that for a bit. He had spent the past months observing the boy, and all his observations only seemed to fuel the quiet, seething hatred he felt for him. He knew all the little, useless things about him by now - how he kept a cat, the peculiar way he signed his name (there was always a huge difference in size between Suzaku's uppercase and lowercase letters, as though the former could engulf the latter), how he seemed strangely knowledgeable about motorcycles.

But at the end of the day... "Perhaps you're right," he drawled. "Well then. Would you be able to help me remedy that, by any chance?"

She scoffed. "Why should I help you?"

"I want to destroy him," he answered without a moment's hesitation. Yes, that had been his overall goal, now that killing Suzaku just did not seem worth the effort anymore. "Because I hate him. And I think you do, too. So...how does that go? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'?"

"That hardly applies to you and me," Kallen snarled. "You are not my friend. You are not now, and you never will be." Feisty. Even as a prisoner within Britannia's stronghold, and one of its highest-ranked soldiers sitting across her, Kallen Kouzuki was all fire and viciousness. He decided she would repay close study as well - (were all Elevens this fascinating?) - and made a mental note to remember this woman once he had finished with Suzaku.

"True," he conceded. "But you will help me, dear Eleven. Because while Suzaku, for whatever reason, might not value his life..." He finished twirling the dagger idly in his hand and wielded it backwards, perpendicular to his arm. "Can the same be said of you?"

For a minute after that, there were no other words that followed between them - at least, none that needed to be spoken.

"You..." When the prisoner broke the silence once more, her eyes were downcast, her mouth curled into a frown. "You're a bit sick in the head."

Luciano gave her the only reaction he deemed appropriate for the situation - he burst out laughing once again, as loudly as he could, while placing the dagger back into his coat.

"Yes," he agreed, and when he smiled he almost wished he could see his own reflection - he wondered if the Eleven saw him as demented as he felt. "I get that a lot."

Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was the third princess of the Holy Britannian Empire, and she lived constantly in the shadow of her older sister, who had taken over as Viceroy of Area 11. But she did not seem to mind - this princess was sweet, gentle, rather air-headed; she was painfully naive, and had more promise as a mere figurehead than a potential, competent contender for the throne.

One day, this princess chose a knight. It was her birthright, after all, and she had the cream of the crop, the entirety of the military's elite to choose from. But, for reasons that were never made official (but the scandalous rumors were not at all far-fetched) she chose an Honorary Britannian - an Eleven - to fill this role.

It was no secret (to Britannia, to Area 11, to the world) that this princess was very affectionate with her knight. He had been kind then, soft-spoken, clumsy in an endearing way and sometimes just a tad slow on the uptake. He clung to a morality that dictated his actions, and fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who was telling the story) this morality mirrored that of the princess quite perfectly. They both abhorred needless deaths (which really begged the question - what the hell was he doing in the military?) and desired a utopia where people could live peacefully, without fear of discimination, violence, suppression, and war.

She wanted to create that perfect world. And he, who also craved that world, stood by her side and fought for her with everything he had, for all he was worth.

The princess was from a colonizing superpower feared the world over; the knight was from one of its many colonies, one that had been battered into submission. They could never be together.

That would not do. (And so one day, Euphemia li Britannia announced, at a school festival in the Tokyo Settlement and before a crowd of spectators and newscasters, that she would create the Special Administrative Zone of Japan.)

It all seemed perfect on paper. The area around Mount Fuji would be one where Britannians and Elevens - no, Japanese - could live together in harmony. No more would there be discrimination between the races, no more would the people have their country, their name reduced to a mere Number. Some Britannians, and virtually all Elevens, hailed this move as a step in the right direction, an act towards progress.

They chanted her name like a mantra then, as though she were an angel.

And it seemed, with this move, that the princess and her knight could live happily ever after.

(But life does not take kindly to potential fairy tales; instead of fanfare and progress and courtship and wedding bells, there was a massacre, the princess died, and her knight was left in pieces as war broke out once more.)

Luciano Bradley was laughing when he left Kouzuki's cell.

He was laughing as he ascended the stairs to the main level, ignoring the curious stare the guard there had fixed onto him.

He was laughing as he made his way to the Knights' common lounge.

And he was still laughing as he entered the area and saw, among others, the Knight of Seven sitting on one end of a long couch made with pearl velvet upholstery, intently watching the news.

Britannia's official report on the SAZ incident had been infuriatingly vague, but he had heard the rumors about it; the way gossip flew, it was hard not to. And while he had found it (inappropriately) laughable then, it was nothing compared to the details he had learned now. This - this was rich.

(Because he'd always known Suzaku was Euphemia's knight. He'd always known Suzaku was an Eleven. He'd always known Euphemia's first major project was the SAZ - in Area 11. But - how foolish he had been - he hadn't thought to connect...)

Luciano Bradley was no longer laughing as he crossed towards the center of the room. He was still smiling, but he was decisive:

With this, he was going to break Suzaku Kururugi, and he was going to like it.

Author's Notes:

First of all, I'd like to thank those who reviewed the first chapter:

MithLuin: I couldn't have said it better myself; their philosophies are just so incompatible, it's almost fascinating. I will try to tone down on Bradley's racism, or at least, how frequently he invokes it. (Also, kudos for calling the non-con/torture: that is exactly where this fic is headed.)

seebear: Thank you, I have no way of knowing if I do Luciano justice; the best I could do was re-watch the (few) scenes he had in R2 and work from there. I hope this chapter did not disappoint.

Spunkay Skunk: I really haven't written fanfic in (counts) six years, so I appreciate your comment. I admit this (and by "this" I mean so many things about this story) is so new and different for me in more ways than one, so I really hope I am doing this right.

If you've noticed, I changed the summary a bit to reflect the content warnings (and in retrospect, I really should have done that upon uploading chapter 1, but it's too late for that now.)

This story is about to get very dark very quickly, so I suppose it's only fair to throw out those warnings here in case any readers at this point are offended by what's coming up. There will be violence (much more explicit than what's been written so far), and non-con/rape. I will up the rating to 'M' once I upload the chapter that comes right before the one with the non-con. Again, if you are personally offended by any of this, please proceed with caution from here on, or not at all; everyone else, enjoy the ride.

Reviews and comments are always welcome and appreciated (something's wrong with my spell-check, so if you catch blatant typos, please tell me.) Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.