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Chapter 2
It was raining the day that Empress Marianne was laid to rest. How apt. Jeremiah thought dryly as he marched along, water sloshing around in his muddy boots, behind a small gathering of morose figures. He tightly clutched a handful of drooping flowers that were now completely saturated with rainwater in his hands, and hung his head low, following the example those in front of him.
The funeral was small for a figure of her stature, only encompassing those who knew the Empress personally and a few members of the Royal Family, a surprise considering that the deaths of an Imperial figure would normally be cause for a day of mourning. For whatever reason ,either out of reverence or of indifference, aside from a public announcement, not much attention was placed upon the death of Empress Marianne.
On one hand, it was infuriating for him, knowing that most of the Empire would be carrying on with their lives while Marianne's was permanently ended, but on the other, the Empress would not have wanted a big hassle over her funeral, the thoughtful person she was.
She would be interred in the same cemetery in the grounds of the Imperial Palace that every other Royal figure in Britannia was, taking her rightful place in the annals of Britannian history, despite the fact that she had started out as a commoner. That was a detail that most forgot. As a commoner, she had almost single handedly installed the current Emperor, and embarked on a meteoric rise through the hierarchy of Britannian society at a clip that most families would never reach after ten generations.
In effect, the last few decades of Britannian history came as a result of her hand, and it would continued to be affected even after her death. She had sired two princesses, one that would likely never amount to anything, and another that was on the track to either immeasurable glory or disaster. Yes, even without considering her upbringing, she was an exceptional figure, one who had affected Britannian history forever, and on a more personal level, Jeremiah's own history.
He was who he was today because of her actions. If she had never allotted him the offer to become a member of her personal guard, he would likely be off fighting some war or enslaving another territory. But instead, here he was, a guard of the Royal Family, one who had failed in his duty. He imagined the disappointed looks that his mother and father would have given him, and allowed silent tears fall in mourning for both the late Empress as well as the hopes of his family.
He suddenly felt uncomfortable wearing his uniform, as if he didn't deserve to wear it. The grey top was soaked by the rain that was coming down in torrents, chilling him to the bone. However, if anything ,he was just numb to the cold, numb to the pain, numb to it all. His mind was occupied by nothing but the thoughts of his Empress, and his failure.
It was his fault she had died, and he silently wished that he could have died alongside her, in the performance of his duty, as that would be his greatest wish. Instead, he was the one left behind to pick up the pieces and to live in pain, while she moved on to the great beyond. He was envious, that she would be able to find peace in her death while he would never have such a privilege.
He was doomed to live with the knowledge of his failure and the emotion that came that with it. He would never find peace, and was only living until the day he would reach his eternal punishment for his failure to protect the most innocent person he had ever known.
Staring into a puddle, he saw the reflection of a pale man, with slight stubble and dark circles under his eyes. His cerulean hair was slick with rainwater, and sagged down over his face, allowing no one a view of his stoic expression underneath. Sleep had not come easy for the past few days, not when he was still trying to comprehend all that was happening in the world. His charge was dead, never to return, and that was still the only certainty so far.
The procession was led by the Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, who walked a few feet ahead of the casket, which was carried by four stoic guards in ceremonial military dress. It was draped in the Britannian flag, whose proud and vibrant colors seemed to be dulled by the occasion for which it was used. The casket had been closed, as her body was far too mangled from her assassination to properly display to the public. Despite Jeremiah's best attempts to preserve her beauty at the time of her assassination, the sight of her body was still deemed too horrific for the public to see.
The Emperor himself had not bothered to show up, instead choosing to make a speech rather than to see the actual internment. Nor did Princess Cornelia, Jeremiah noted interestedly, although he wasn't too surprised. After all, the only person who respected Empress Marianne more than himself was Princess Cornelia. No doubt she was blaming herself for the Empress' death, even if it wasn't her fault.
Jeremiah followed silently, a ways behind the main group, filled with various Britannian nobles, all veils down and heads hung low, completely silent, except for the occasional sniffle from Nunally, who was currently clutching Lelouch's arm tightly, still in shock at what had transpired in the last few days. They were both dressed in conservative black dresses that perfectly reflected the somber mood, with veils that covered their faces, although it was clear to anyone who paid them any heed that Nunally was crying underneath.
Jeremiah felt a tinge of sympathy for the young girl. To be fifteen and to see your mother gunned down before your eyes was traumatic, to say the least, if not life changing. And for that to happen to the most innocent and pure member of the Royal Family too. She was the white lily of the otherwise cutthroat Royal Family, and this experience was not anything she could have ever been prepared for.
For her part, Lelouch said nothing, her veil obscuring her face almost completely as she strode beside Jeremiah, who kept a protective eye on the two princesses. She was completely calm, and her face was almost like marble, permanently in an apathetic expression. Unlike her younger sister, who was emotional and vocal, Lelouch was silent and cold, an exemplary display politically. She would give no quarter to anyone, no matter what the circumstances, an admirable trait for anyone who had any inkling of the political world.
"Jeremiah, Lelouch…protect."
He had promised the Empress that he would do so, and he was going to carry out his duty. He could not, no, would not fail, as he had done before. Not when he had a purpose to his life. He was a machine, created only for the task of protecting, and if he failed in even that, then what could he do?
He was using Lelouch, as a sort of crutch, he knew, but he had no other choice. His life would mean nothing if he had no one to serve, no matter who it was. His father and mother had taught him as much. To protect the country that he loved so much, he had to serve, and serve he would.
To his left and right were the grounds of the cemetery, littered with the graves of various Britannian monarchs, all having died in the service of their country, as he dreamed to one day do. If he did, maybe his mother would smile once more, knowing that her son had died fighting for the most glorious cause in the entire world. And maybe, just maybe, his father would hold back his unforgiving fists, and instead, nod proudly at his funeral, a sense of fulfillment knowing that his son was a loyal and faithful servant of Britannia.
He hoped.
The procession stopped in their tracks as they reached the final resting place for Empress Marianne, a freshly dug hole in the middle of an empty plot of land. Jeremiah scowled a bit at the realization that she had been purposely separated from the other graves, a reflection of her commoner descent. However, as the embodiment of Britannian ideals, he supposed that there was some significance in the act. That despite being one of the greatest figures in recent history, she still respected the social hierarchy on which their empire was built and their Numbers system was enacted.
It was all political gold, and Jeremiah knew it. The Emperor was using her to embody the exemplary Britannian, and they were all too dumb to realize it. However, he couldn't help but feel that despite the fact that she was being used, Empress Marianne would have wanted this. No one followed orders with more conviction and was a more zealous adherent to the Britannian doctrine than her.
After all, as the Emperor said, "All men are not created equal; inequality is not wrong, equality is."
If anyone understood those words, it had to have been the Empress. Despite her rank, despite her popularity, she had never overstepped her boundaries. She knew where her loyalties and duties lay, and she followed them earnestly and ardently.
Jeremiah stood silently as he watched the four guards lower the casket into the ground, not being able to find the words to describe how he felt in this moment. It was almost as if a part of him had been buried along with Marianne. His grip on the flowers in his hands relaxed, until the stems of the flowers slipped through the space between his fingers and drifted to the ground, landing without a sound.
The priest present cleared his throat, gaining the attention of all those present. He was dressed in a conservative jacket with a collar that completely covered his neck, protecting it from the nipping wind as he began giving the eulogy that had obviously been prepared by some government officials, evident in the pro-Britannian propaganda scattered throughout.
Jeremiah kept a straight face throughout, resolved not to show any emotion despite the fact that he was weeping internally. As the priest finished, he nodded to the guards, who were now each armed with a shovel. The hole was quickly filled with dirt that was teetering on the edge of becoming mud, and closed off with a final pat of a shovel.
Saying their final goodbyes, most people walked away from the fresh grave, leaving Jeremiah alone with Lelouch and Nunally, who was no longer able to hold back her tears. She cried freely, hugging her older sister tightly while Lelouch stroked her hair softly, doing her best to comfort the younger girl.
Jeremiah looked down at his feet, ashamed while he listened to sobs rock Princess Nunally's body, face obscured by tangled brown hair that had obviously not been tended to in days. It was completely silent, save for the sound of raindrops pounding against Lelouch's black umbrella as she did her best to shield Nunally from the rain, Nunally's own umbrella discarded on the ground.
"Lelouch, why do people like Mother have to die?" Nunally asked, managing the words despite a torrent of tears. She took a deep breath, soothing the convulsions tearing through her body. She sighed deeply as Lelouch wrapped an arm around her body, slightly warming the cold that she felt more than any other sensation, other than a piercing emptiness that was only alleviated by the presence of her sister.
"Because that's how the world is." Lelouch replied softly, hugging Nunally closer to her body as she did so. She sadly stared down at her sister, alone and scared. She didn't deserve this, not Nunally.
"Then we should change the world." Nunally replied, leading Lelouch to nod in agreement at her surprisingly poignant suggestion, as vague and unrealistic as it was.
"We should." She replied softly, nodding in agreement.
Lelouch looked up at Jeremiah, who was the last remaining person at her mother's grave. He stared back with an ashamed look in his eyes, clearly affected by the state in which Nunally was. Standing across from the two sisters, a soaked uniform on his back and scattered flowers underfoot, Jeremiah looked out of place and incongruous.
"Jeremiah, given that my mother is dead, you are free to pursue whatever career you want, be it in the military or not." Lelouch said, "You don't have to feel obligated to stay here."
At those words, Jeremiah's haze was instantly broken and he shook his head vigorously, realizing that Lelouch was effectively kicking him to the curb. However, he could not let that happen. He had orders, and he would follow them to his dying days. Empress Marianne had told him to protect her daughters, and protect he would.
In essence, it was also his chance for redemption. If he could protect them and fulfill his duty to the late Empress, then maybe, just maybe, his conscience would be soothed by the comfort in knowing that he wasn't a failure in all he did. That he had succeeded in something that could defend his pride, honor, and duty as a knight.
"But my only wish is to serve you, Your Highness. I want to change the world with you, any way it takes." Jeremiah replied, dropping to his knees, echoing Princess Nunally's earlier sentiments. He knew that it wasn't exactly the most realistic goal, but in his life, devoid of purpose but to serve, he found comfort in sharing the same goal as his charge.
"Please, I beg of you. I know of nothing else, have no purpose, besides what Empress Marianne told me. Her final orders were to protect you, and I intend to follow her last words, no matter what." Jeremiah continued from his submissive position. His head was hung low, refusing to even glance upon Lelouch, as he suddenly realized exactly how desperate he sounded in that moment. However, it was the truth that escaped his lips. He really did not have much desire besides to perform his duty.
"Jeremiah, stand up." Lelouch ordered, causing Jeremiah to respond eagerly. He rose up to his full height, finding that he stood almost a full head taller than the shorter Princess. However, in terms of the sheer force of personality, he was a dwarf to the giant that was Lelouch. In that moment, she just seemed to command and demand the upmost respect, in a way that was eerily similar to her mother.
"If you so wish to, I will allow you to serve me in place of my mother." She relented, causing Jeremiah to nod, relieved at Lelouch's words.
"Very well. I will take my place as your personal bodyguard, Your Highness." Jeremiah bowed deeply.
"Please, refer to me by my name." Lelouch replied. Completely compliant, Jeremiah acknowledged the orders with absolute veneration.
"Princess Lelouch, what will you do now?" Jeremiah asked the raven haired teen. He was now ready to do whatever she commanded without question, eager to prove his worth to her.
"I want answers, and I want them now, but we both know that is not a viable option. All I can do is wait, I suppose. This officially makes me a high profile figure now, and people will be watching me more and more. I cannot afford to show any signs of weakness to the public or to the rest of my family." Lelouch replied, clearly having thought about the topic at hand many times prior to their conversation.
"Whatever you choose to do, I will follow in stride." Jeremiah stated definitively.
Lelouch's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest.
"What exactly do you wish to gain from this? Fame? Power? Wealth?" She asked, completely suspicious of Jeremiah's willingness to serve her. At least in her eyes, it seemed completely obvious that he had an ulterior motive to enter her servitude, but what that was, she had no idea. There was no way that he could be acting purely on her mother's orders, could he?
"Nothing. All I want is to serve you, Your Highness." Jeremiah replied, understanding of her suspicion. After all, it wasn't every day that men like himself willingly pledged their service to someone without good cause, although he supposed that following the orders of Empress Marianne was a good enough cause for him.
"That's it?" Lelouch asked with a raised eyebrow, still not convinced by Jeremiah's words.
"Well, that's not all I have to say, but…" Jeremiah trailed off, leading Lelouch to nod in understanding.
"Very well. I will not pry any further. When you are ready to tell me, you will tell me." She assured, surprising Jeremiah, although he wasn't complaining. If she was willing to trust him, then that was good enough for him. He wanted to tell her the truth, but at the same time, he did not want the truth to hang over them and make her feel as if he was only protecting her out of some twisted sense of satisfaction that came from following orders.
"Sorry, Your Highness, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to speak about my motivation yet." Jeremiah apologized.
"It's fine, Jeremiah. We all have our secrets." Lelouch said in response, and for a second, Jeremiah swore he saw a small smile flash across her face before she nodded to him and led Nunally away, whispering soothing words into her younger sister's ears.
As she disappeared out of sight, Jeremiah looked up to the heavens as water streamed down his face, following the sharp contours of his strong facial features. Just a few moments ago, it was heavy and imposing, striking his face with viciousness that only amplified his sense of shame and weakness. However, now the rain felt…different.
Instead of dragging him down, if anything, it seemed to reenergize him , and instead of being oppressive, it was soothing and relieving, almost as if it were washing away his pain and fear. It truly felt as if he had found a new start in life, and he was ready to see what his new life would have in store for him. That is, if he could relieve one remaining weight that seemed to be pinning him down.
"Jeremiah."
"Father." Jeremiah replied coldly, standing toe to toe with Lord Gottwald in their doorway. They were of equal height, allowing them to stare each other in the eye for a moment before Jeremiah averted his gaze.
"We haven't heard from you since…" Lord Gottwald trailed off, finding it uncomfortable to mention the death of Empress Marianne.
"Yes, I suppose I have been negligent in corresponding with you." Jeremiah nodded, knowing just the same.
"Why are you back here? Don't tell me you were discharged." Lord Gottwald asked, as if it were already a foregone conclusion.
"Not at all. I have come here to tell you that I will be sworn in as Princess Lelouch's Knight of Honor at the end of the week, after all of the uproar over… the event dies down." Jeremiah replied, treading over the dreaded words with cool efficiency.
"That's unexpected." Lord Gottwald replied, completely shocked by the news.
"However, I need to do one thing before I go through with the knighting ceremony. May I speak with Mother?" Jeremiah asked, not intending to take no as an answer.
Nodding, Lord Gottwald stepped aside, allowing Jeremiah entrance.
"She's in her room. I haven't seen her all morning." He informed Jeremiah in a confused tone, almost causing him to roll his eyes in disbelief. It seemed that his father had absolutely no idea that the reason his mother was afraid to leave her room was him, but that was besides the point.
He strode through the foyer, boots clacking as he followed a series of familiar hallways that he knew led to his bastion, his mother's room. It had been the one place that he felt truly safe throughout his childhood, and to this day, little had changed.
Gently, he creaked the door open, and noticed that a pair of eyes immediately snapped towards him, analyzing his figure to determine whether he was friend or foe.
"Jeremiah!" His mother cried out, sitting up in her bed, wincing slightly as she did so, Jeremiah seeing through her poor attempt at hiding the pain she was experiencing.
"Mother, don't push yourself too hard." Jeremiah admonished, closing the door behind him and dashing over to the side of the bed to ease his mother backwards into her pillow.
"But I haven't seen you in months, and you haven't called for weeks. I was worried sick about you." She retorted, causing Jeremiah to hang his head in shame.
"I know…I should have called sooner. I'm sorry." He whispered, leading her to shake her head.
"Don't worry about it. My handsome son has returned to visit me. How could I want anything else?" Lady Gottwald asked rhetorically.
"Now then," She continued, "Something's bothering you. What is wrong?"
Jeremiah quickly put up his hands in defense, "No, nothing's wrong. In fact, it's the opposite. I'm going to be appointed the Knight of Honor for Princess Lelouch."
At this, Lady Gottwald's lips curled upwards in a huge grin that made Jeremiah feel immensely proud for evoking. He couldn't stop the urge to smile as well, glad that some life had returned to his mother's eyes.
"Jeremiah, that's great! I'm so proud of you!" She cried out, glee evident in her face before a searing pain tore through her neck and caused her to suddenly choke at the sensation of having blocking her air passageway. Her smile contorted into an expression of pain, and Jeremiah immediately steadied her by the shoulders, holding her in place until the sensation subsided.
"Mother, did he do it again?" Jeremiah asked, to which Lady Gottwald nodded.
"Yes, but don't worry about it. I just need to rest, and I'll be fine." She replied weakly, the sudden outburst exhausting her.
"I'm worried for you. What if he goes too far one day, and you won't just be able to rest it off?" Jeremiah cried out, worry permeating every word.
"I made a vow that I would be married to your father, for better and worse, through sickness and health. I can't just abandon my duties now. You understand. If you are going to be a knight, you can never go back on your pledge to protect the Princess." She replied.
"I…I…" He began, noticing exactly how severe his mother's condition was. No amount of makeup could truly cover the bruises that were formed around her throat, likely the victim of one of his father's large hands. Saying anything to aggravate the injury would be the wrong move in this situation.
"I understand." He said carefully, breathing out a sigh of relief as his mother nodded without incident.
"Jeremiah, I do want to talk more, but I really need to rest." Lady Gottwald pleaded, exhaustion evident in her weakening voice.
"Of course. Rest as much as you need to. I'll be back soon, and I'll see you again." Jeremiah reassured, causing Lady Gottwald to smile and to lay her head back, closing her eyes and allowing sleep to come over her.
Her breathing slowed and she seemed content, a small smile coming over her face.
"My son…" She breathed out, already asleep, and Jeremiah instantly felt a pang of guilt.
He had followed orders all of his life, and what had it led to so far? The death of Empress Marianne, and the continued abuse of his mother. If there was ever a moment in which he felt his confidence in his ideals shaken, it was now, watching his fragile mother attempt to put on a strong front for him while she was silently falling apart at the seams.
However, despite having his faith challenged, Jeremiah couldn't help but to feel that by following Lelouch, everything would be okay, somehow. There was just something about her that made her stand apart from everyone else he had ever met. When she had said that they would change the world, he couldn't help but to believe her words completely. For some odd reason, she inspired supreme confidence within him, and if there was anything he was in dire need of, it was a boost to his confidence.
It was just so hard sometimes, watching helplessly as his mother was abused and tortured by the monster he called his father. He desperately wanted to do something to help, and he just got the feeling that Lelouch was the only one who had any chance of doing so.
"Jeremiah…" She whispered softly, a little smile on her face.
Jeremiah nodded, resolve hardened. He just wanted to do something. He didn't want to watch anymore. He wanted to act, and act he would. Until the day that his mother was free, and proud of her son, he would follow Lelouch on her path, wherever it took her.
He would have to, he thought soberly before he lay his head down on his mother's chest, feeling it heave up and down softly in the rhythmic beat of her heart. He laced his fingers through her soft sheets, imagining all of the times that she had silently wept into them, or pulled them over her exposed skin in an attempt to hide the rapidly forming bruises underneath.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the stale odor of dried blood, and cried.
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as dark as it got sometimes. No, I'm not sadistic, but I feel like the kind of fanatical loyalty Jeremiah has in canon has to be attributed to something. In this case, it is his belief that following Lelouch will somehow lead him and his mother to salvation, in his twisted reality. Next chapter, the action and meat of the story will start up, with Lelouch's initial moves in her campaign against her siblings, so I hope you all continue to read on.
In a burgeoning story like this, I could really use all of the help I can get, so please, leave any and all thoughts, either in the form of a review or a PM. Thank you for reading!