Lawli: Hello again! Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! I had a great Christmas, got lots of good stuff (Coach purse, tickets to see Wicked) so I hope everyone else did as well! ^-^ And a semi-late present to everyone is a new update for this fic!
Some people were wondering if this was going to be SuzaLulu or LuluSuza. Though we're not that far into it yet, I'll tell you all now that it's going to probably be more SuzaLulu (however, at some parts, it may be reversed since Suzaku has to pretend to be the "woman" of the relationship..)
THANKS TO...SuzaLulu, eMi to mAo 374, Tsugane, Ookami Fuu, -w- easy enough, 6-The-Cloaked-Nocturne-9, ..., Kay, xxxCodeTsubasa, 2stupid, Senorita Lucha 777, mochiusagi, miichan, CrimsonUtopia... FOR REVIEWING!
Tomorrow I'm off to Mizucon in Miami. If you're going, be sure to say hi to me! I'll be dressed as Kitty!Rolo. =)
Without further ado, enjoy the chapter! And please leave a review on the way out, if you like!
The Charlatans of Circumstance
Chapter Three
"Forgive me."
Currently Suzaku knelt before the woman, his hands resting stiffly on his thighs and his head bowed. Once she'd discovered him, there had been no reason to remain in the cramped little alley. They now stood to the side of the nearly empty street, the woman looking down at him with an expression that didn't seem fitting for a person whose husband had just been robbed. She almost seemed... amused by the situation – particularly with her husband, who was doubled over several feet away trying to catch his breath.
Obviously Suzaku had been right to assume that the man was not in the best shape.
"Stealing is a felony," the woman said tonelessly. "Forgiving you will not change that. And even if it did, you'd have no business asking forgiveness from me. It wasn't my purse you took."
Suzaku blinked, raising his head very slightly. Glancing between the two aristocrats, he then amended his words. "Forgive me for robbing your husband."
Instead of accepting the apology, the woman completely surprised Suzaku by laughing. Immediately the Japanese man jumped to the conclusion that she was laughing at him, not even pausing to consider the possibility that there may have been an error in his words.
"Husband?" the woman repeated, the tiniest of smiles tugging her lips upwards as she regarded the black-haired man who had come to stand by her side. She motioned in his direction with the fan she carried in her right hand and asked Suzaku to affirm; "Him? I may be getting old, but I am not desperate, young thief."
At this, the nobleman glared at her and raised his nose a little higher.
Suzaku, embarrassed, didn't quite know what to say. "I-I'm sorry for assuming," he finally managed to stammer out.
"Yes, well, that is hardly the most important matter at hand," the black-haired man spoke for the first time in Suzaku's presence. His voice was deep, and if Suzaku had not been too preoccupied with trying to think of a way to shirk the punishment he'd soon be receiving, he would also find it quite soothing – albeit rather unfitting for the man's delicate build. "You may not be aware, but the penalty for theft in Britannia is the loss of your hands."
Clenching his fists, Suzaku swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm aware," he replied, slowly and quietly. And he couldn't even say to himself that he didn't deserve it. He'd willingly broken the law. This man was justified in punishing him.
But Kaguya...
He never would have done it if he didn't need to buy that medicine so badly. If Dr. Bradley wasn't such a cruel, selfish person.
"But..." Suzaku found himself speaking before he could stop himself. It wasn't like him to beg for anything, yet there he was, suddenly pleading for this man – this complete stranger, from whom he'd just taken two hundred pounds – to spare him. "Please, sir, I... My cousin is ill, she needs medicine that I just can't afford and..." He was rambling now, unable to hold back now that he'd started, and the whole story came spilling out. He sounded pathetic, desperate, but maybe he was – no, he knew he was, otherwise he wouldn't have even fathomed the idea of stealing in the first place.
Judging by the look on his face, the man either didn't care or didn't believe Suzaku's dilemma. As he was about to say something, however, the woman set a hand on his shoulder.
"Lelouch, I think we best be going," she told him, and Suzaku felt his hopes rise the slightest bit.
"C.C.!" the man – Lelouch – hissed, turning his narrow violet eyes on her incredulously. "You expect me to just walk away and let this criminal run free?"
C.C. (odd name for a woman, Suzaku couldn't help but think) shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "If you want me to give you the advice you seek then, yes, I do," she replied, unfazed by the look Lelouch gave her. "But do whatever you like."
Whatever Lelouch's problem, it must have been more serious than the situation he was in now. Suzaku watched as an array of emotions flashed across his face – anger, skepticism, and after a short while, acceptance.
Adjusting the lapels of his fitted jacket, Lelouch scowled at Suzaku, who averted his gaze to the ground. "Consider this a warning then."
As they started to walk away, C.C. glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Suzaku.
She was smiling at him.
"I have a solution to your problem," C.C. informed Lelouch, once they were far away from the would-be thief and on course for the brothel.
"Well, please, don't keep it to yourself," Lelouch said with an air of irritation, clearly still brooding over allowing the pickpocket off with only a warning.
"Marriage."
Lelouch lifted an eyebrow at the word. "Marriage," he repeated, unimpressed. "Forgive me, I was under the impression that marriage was my problem."
"It is," C.C. said, nodding in concurrence. "At least, marriage to any of the women your mother is planning to match you with. However, marriage – or rather, a fictitious one, may be the key to solving this problem. If your mother believes you to be married, or engaged at the very least, surely she will give up her attempts to pair you with the ladies she deems suitable for you."
Lips curving in a thoughtful frown, Lelouch mulled over the idea. It was certainly plausible that his mother would indeed put an end to her matchmaking tricks if Lelouch told her he was married or engaged to be so. Then again, his mother constantly surprised him; Lelouch wouldn't put it past her to continue with her annoying habit just to spite him and his 'bride-to-be'.
"It could work," he said, placing a hand to his chin as he began to formulate a plan in his mind.
He would tell his mother he'd met his fiancée during his trip to Spain – that it had been love at first site, and he couldn't have lived without her so he proposed the evening before his return to Britannia. It was a stretch, for anyone who knew Lelouch (and his mother knew him above all others) knew that he was not a man to rush into things.
But Marianne would have no choice but to believe her son, once Lelouch introduced her to the woman.
The woman...
Therein lay another problem.
Where could he find a woman to play the role of his fiancée?
Lelouch cast a sidelong glance in C.C.'s direction. If there was ever a woman he would even consider marrying, it was C.C. Definitely attractive enough, and possessing a personality Lelouch could tolerate, C.C. was only person Lelouch could think of off the top of his head. But even as he thought this, he knew it wouldn't be smart to ask her to play the part for him. While not particularly well-known, there was the possibility of someone recognizing C.C..
There was the also the setback of C.C.'s gender. Women by nature were prone to romance, and even though C.C. seemed disinterested in him in such a sense Lelouch didn't want to risk her developing feelings for him.
But then again... that risk came with asking any woman to stand in as his fiancée.
Feeling his gaze on her, C.C. asked, "what?"
Lelouch sighed, closing his eyes. "It won't work." At her blank stare, he elaborated. "There is no one I can think of to play my fiancé. I do not wish to ask a woman I don't know, but I cannot ask any woman I do know, either."
His reasons for worry were valid. C.C. would have dropped the subject then and just told him she had no other ideas, but she couldn't help but tease, "it doesn't have to be a woman."
Scoffing, Lelouch fixed her with his best scowl and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you are fond of envisioning me as a raving homosexual, C.C., but I am not hiring a man to..."
Lelouch's voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him.
C.C. only meant it in a joking manner, but her words now seemed like a stroke of genius to Lelouch.
The cause of Lelouch's hesitation sprung from his fear of a woman developing feelings for him if she acted as his bride-to-be. If he hired a man to act the part, he wouldn't have any causes for concern. It was the perfect solution – how had he not thought of it sooner?
"I thank you, C.C. You have indeed resolved this problem for me. I knew I could count on you."
C.C. looked shocked for a moment or so, astonished that Lelouch would actually agree to do such a thing. Lelouch had already moved on to the new question of what man to choose as his partner in this charade. Obviously it could not be a nobleman or anyone with a recognizable face. More importantly, it had to be someone willing to do such a degrading thing as dress up as a woman for an indefinite amount of time.
Who on earth could be that desperate?
As if sensing his thoughts, C.C. suggested, "what about that boy from earlier?"
Lelouch called an image of the young man to his mind, picturing the dark green eyes and tousled brown hair.
"My cousin is ill... I'm the only one she has, and I just... can't afford medicine..."
Fragments of his story popped up in Lelouch's mind.
"Forgive me."
"What did he say his name was, C.C.?"
C.C. smiled at the gleam in his eyes. "If memory serves me, Suzaku Kururugi," she answered after a brief pensive silence.
"An Eleven," Lelouch gasped, growing fonder of the idea of using this young man as his wife with every passing second. Sure, it would be embarrassing to fake affection with another man, but picturing the look on his mother's face when he informed her that he was already engaged – and to an Eleven, no less – made any and all awkwardness he might face worth it.
As they neared the brothel, Lelouch took C.C.'s arm so she could walk more closely to him. "When is the soonest you could find him for me?" he wondered when they stopped in front of the door.
C.C. faced him, her golden eyes swimming with emotions Lelouch could not identify. She raised her arm, looking as though she was about to caress his face, but then thought otherwise and lowered it back to her side. "Tomorrow evening, I'm sure."
"I'll return then."
C.C. only nodded, and after a short goodbye followed by a tip of that ridiculous top-hat, Lelouch left her.
He was late.
This had been part of the plan, of course.
Well, actually, the original plan had been for Lelouch to miss the dinner party altogether. As it was, he arrived in time for tea and desert. Striding into the dining hall with utmost confidence, Lelouch met his mother's gaze. Marianne sat at the head of the long table, her expression that of a loving mother welcoming her only son while her eyes burned with fury.
"Look whose finally decided to grace us with his presence!" she gushed, rising from her seat and directing everyone's attention to Lelouch, who had been hoping to slip into his own seat unnoticed. His mother, being his mother, could never allow things to go the way he wanted.
Fixing the roomful of guests with his most winning smile, Lelouch acted as though he was completely surprised by their being there. "Why mother, I hope you didn't do all of this on my account," he said.
"I did." Marianne's eyes narrowed slightly. "As the guest of honor, one would expect you to arrive on time for a change."
"Mother, I had no idea," Lelouch lied easily, the smile never leaving his face. "I wish you would tell me these things in advance."
"I had a message sent to you, as well as proper clothing for the event." She frowned at his old suit and hat.
"I'm afraid I was out for a stroll around town. I never received the message." Lelouch pulled his chair out from the table, situating himself comfortably. "But enough of this, I am here now... and I also have a bit of exciting news to share with you all."
Marianne blinked, exchanging confused looks with the woman beside her (Shirley Fenette's mother). "News?" she repeated, and Lelouch nodded his head vigorously, standing from his chair to address all of their guests.
"I had intended to inform you in private, Mother, but since our friends are here I may as well say it in front of them." Lelouch paused, eyes sweeping around the room and taking in the looks of anticipation present on each person's face. Gesturing dramatically with his right hand, Lelouch broke the 'news'. "I am engaged to be married!"
There was a collective gasp from all the dinner party's attendees (particularly the young females), and the horrified look on his mother's face made Lelouch grin victoriously.
One of the few good things about owning a brothel was that the business connected C.C. to a lot of people. She'd questioned many of her contacts about the young Eleven named Suzaku Kururugi. A majority of them didn't know who she was referring to, of course, but several merchants claimed that he sometimes ran errands and made deliveries for them.
"Is there a problem?" they would ask, and she would smile and shake her head.
"No, I was merely curious. He owes me a favor, you see, and I was wondering how best to reach him."
She didn't even need to inquire for his information, they were all eager to point her in his direction.
Suzaku Kururugi and the ill cousin he kept watch over resided in a two-room flat in a narrow building near the outskirts of town – or the ghetto, as it was more commonly known as. The building was made of red brick faded by the harsh sun, and several of the windows were smashed beyond repair. C.C. was hardly a shallow person, but she couldn't help the curl of her lip as she braved the rickety staircase to the third floor.
The only door on the third level was unlocked, and C.C. opened it without knocking, stepping inside as if the flat belonged to her. It was tinier than it looked on the outside, with a kitchen and sitting area combined into one room, and two tiny doors leading presumably to a bathroom and a bedroom. The light to one of the room's was on, but other than that the house was dark.
"Suzaku...?"
The name was spoken softly, but C.C. heard it coming from the room with the light on. Without replying, she approached the door and entered the room.
The walls were painted white. In the center of the room there was a bed big enough for only one person, and on the floor beside it a small heap of blankets. On the pink-quilted bed sat a young girl with long black hair and large green eyes reminiscent of the boy C.C. had encountered the previous day.
"You must be his cousin."
The girl stared at her, nervous yet trying to appear otherwise. "Who are you?"
C.C. couldn't help but smile at the defensive tone of her voice. "My name is C.C. I'm here to see Suzaku."
"Suzaku?" The girl looked worried for a moment, and then she asked, hesitantly, "is he in trouble?"
"Not particularly," C.C. said, noting the girl's pale skin. It was too pale for that of a healthy adolescent. "But he does owe me a favor. Do you know when he'll be home?"
The girl shook her head, slowly moving to get out of bed – a simple action that took her far longer than necessary. After glancing at the clock, she replied, "he should be back soon. Would you like me to get you some tea?"
Elevens were always so polite. This girl was probably dying, and here she was offering a perfect stranger something to drink. C.C. smirked and watched the girl hobble to the bedroom door.
"Tea would be lovely."
Lawli: I know you're all wondering why Suzaku isn't in a skirt yet. Be patient... it's coming. 8D