Code Geass: Enduring Retribution

Key:

" " - Regular Speech

' ' - Unheard Thoughts

" " - Emphasis / Radio Communication

" " - Amplified Speech / External Speakers / Public Address System (PA System)

Disclaimer - Code Geass is owned by Sunrise Inc.

Chapter IV: Prince Dismissed

February 5th, Year 2009 A.T.B.

Lelouch was anxious. It had been thirty five days since the year's start, and for each hour passed his feelings of unease would grow.

'Mother died this year…' He thought, emotions all too similar to those of nostalgia and depression weaving their way into his psyche as he pondered the now aged memory, one which had grown to define the very struggle he'd endured for the better part of his former life.

In all honesty, he felt unsure of what to do. Should he save her from her fate, ensuring her survival and continued existence within the world, or should he act as if he knew nothing of the approaching tragedy, one that was all but guaranteed to occur, maintaining the status quo of the previous timeline? This singular question had consumed the whole of his being for the past few weeks, his mind, prodigious as it was, unable to come up with a satisfactory response.

He knew that she loved them, her children, as any mother would, and had shown only the most sincere of care towards both his and Nunnally's well beings. He knew that, despite her more ruthless actions, her collaboration with Charles had been aimed towards goals all to similar to his own, a peaceful world. True, the details on how such a world should be varied considerably, such as whether the people would maintain the very thing that made them quintessentially human, their individuality, yet it remained the same objective nonetheless. And while he could not prevent himself from resenting his and Nunnally's abandonments, it felt hypocritical of him to think in such a manner. They had explained to him, upon their rather abnormal familial reunion, how the dead would rejoin the living, logic dictating how, even should he and his sister have died, they would have come back and, eventually, been reunited, so could he truly blame them? After all, wasn't it he whom always preached on how the ends justified the means? And had he not, himself, spilt oceans of blood in pursuit of such ends? In either case, both parties had forced tremendous losses upon others, all in the pursuit of what could only be referenced as altruistic in its nature.

This internal debate raged on within him, rattling his soul to its very core, and yet he knew that he would have to make a decision, preferably sooner rather than later. His actions within this world meant it would be impossible for him to accurately predict the day V.V. would ultimately choose to strike, rendering his decision all the more imperative.

What made the dilemma even more irritating was the fact that his, dare he say, father, had envisioned the concept of Ragnarök all in the purpose of peace, an aspect which only rendered the entire situation even more cumbersome than he'd wished to deal with at such point in time. He hated the man with a passion, but his most recent ordeals as a child, combined with a far more matured mindset then he'd once had, resulted in him growing much closer to the old man than originally desired, and unwanted bond. Whether he would admit it or not, be it to others or himself, both he and the Emperor were very similar indeed.

And so his thoughts continuously looped within his head, past memories and whirlwinds of emotions causing him no small amount of grief.

Even so, assuming he came to the decision to save his mother, another issue immediately came to replace its predecessor. Just how could he save her? Despite his intellect, neither his thoughts nor plans could ever hope to see the light should he remain without the proper resources at his disposal. True, as Prince of the Empire he could wield rather large influence, at least theoretically, though he doubted such actions could be conducted by what his peers perceived as nothing more than an intelligent and mature child, with emphasis the latter part of his description, child. It was almost maddening really, the lack of authority. He truly did miss his days as Zero, a time where he held virtually absolute power and, at least what he'd originally believed, loyalty, his followers acquiescing to his every whim. He need only say the word.

"If only I had my Geass." He muttered, his slim figure lying prone upon his bed, thin veils of moonlight streaming into his room at Aries as he lay thinking. "It would truly be of great value right now."

However, and despite such setbacks, Lelouch remained calm. Since his Day of Foundation but a few months prior, an event that had remained the talk of the court for quite a while he might add, Lelouch had been able to, in fact, acquire a modicum of assets. He'd started off small, of course, using his meager winnings and bets against noblemen, combined with his princely allowance, in order to generate himself a limited pool of capital, at which point he immediately began investing within the Britannian stock market. Beginning with the generally less desirable shares and then working his way up the ladder, Lelouch had built himself his own private economic kingdom, owning a median amount of stocks and bonds across various industries and businesses, most notably those primarily involved in arms and weaponry. He could have acquired more, though he deemed it necessary to try and remain under the radar, having cast enough light upon his figure for the time being. His dealings had not gone unnoticed, unfortunately, his mother having approached him when she'd realized that her son's bank statements appeared to have somehow considerably fattened despite her, or Charles', lack of involvement. The ensuing interrogation had, to put things bluntly, not been the most pleasant of experiences.

But Lelouch's grasp for power failed to halt there. Having equipped himself with a now much larger financial basis, he'd then set out to create his very own corporation, the aptly named Lamperouge Armaments Conglomerate, otherwise known as the L.A.C., its focus directed towards the production and development of the military hardware Britannia appeared to love all too much. The company's owner had, rather shockingly, been able to remain anonymous to the public at large, a detail that caused more than a few questions to be raised, though the greater sense of maneuverability the persona allowed him was deemed well worth the sporadic sideways glances. Working from within the shadows, it had only been a matter of patience before Lelouch had snatched up certain key figures from his corporate rivals, the majority being generally underpaid engineers and weapons designers, whom were more than glad to switch camps at the promise of both generous pay and lavish research grants. It wasn't long before the first company headquarters and research divisions had been established, with manufacturing centers nearing completion within the following month.

But of all the tools acquired, of all the means at his disposal, none rivaled the sheer scope, nor professed importance, of the L.A.C.'s private intelligence network. It had proven quite a challenge to create, at first, his connections both limited and few, but sparse amounts of manipulation, combined with a rather uncanny amount of blackmail, had eventually garnered Lelouch several dozens of undercover informants, ranging from disgruntled factory workers, to well placed and, conveniently, corrupt managers, allowing him an impressive, although still limited, amount of data on his enemies' dealings. It was only a matter of time before he would hook the kind of fish he was truly after, an embedded O.S.I. agent.

It was common knowledge, at least among Britannia's higher echelons, that the empire kept a watchful eye upon those both designing and creating its weapons, a precautionary measure meant to prevent the sale of said weapons towards any 'undesirable' parties, meaning anyone affiliated with either the E.U. or Chinese Federation. It was a very sensible sort of action as, in a world divided by three superpowers, any advantage, whether it be economic, technological, or especially militarily, had the potential to unravel the precarious balance of power that existed between the three. Therefore, so as to insure such an event would not come to pass, it had been decided by the powers that be that several undercover agents of the O.S.I. be implanted within the empire's key industries, acting as a sort of guard dog, carefully listening in and watching over the actions of these businesses, monitoring their activities.

The L.A.C., although of still comparatively small stature, had not entirely escaped this government spun web, Lelouch having already discovered, and promptly fired, a multitude of these aforementioned agents, wary of the damage they could incur should his company, or even he, for that matter, be considered a liability by those in power.

The reasons behind such a quest were actually quite simple. If Lelouch was able to turn one of his Majesty's agents, then he had the potential to infiltrate the O.S.I. itself, the prodigal cave of wonders for any and all things intelligence related. Still and more importantly, however, was the fact that only the O.S.I. maintained contact within another elusively secretive order, the Geass Directorate. To infiltrate one would mean access to the other, an endeavor that, should it prove successful, would be one the the greatest boons to him, in as practical as in personal ways.

To his disappointment, however, such a chance had yet to pass, and so he waited, in a patient and apprehensive manner, for the moment of success. Still, the lack of progress worried him, at which time he'd looked into other possibilities. He'd briefly considered using the agents that had been previously exposed within his own company, though quickly decided against it in not much more than an afterthought, the possibility of being double - crossed, or, even worse, spied upon, was deemed to great. His other solutions proved to be just as equally flawed or of too high risk as well and and were, reluctantly, soon forgotten.

And so, Lelouch found himself were he'd began, unable to resolve the impasse that was his mother's fate. Even with his newfound gains, the key to his remedy remained out of reach, having come no closer towards V.V.'s future actions than he was when he'd first started to worry. Money and paranoia could, regrettably, only bring one so far it appeared. The only decision he did have, regardless of either path he chose, was Nunnally's fate. She would be protected, by any means necessary, if but to avoid her crippling and blindness, even if, in the worst came scenario, he would become V.V.'s chosen 'witness'. She had suffered enough already, he believed. Never again.

Now, lying comfortably upon his bed, Lelouch echoed an impressive sigh, his worries finally having taken their toll.

"I'll look into this tomorrow…" He whispered, voice fading as sleep reaped its just reward upon the boyish form, an expression of peace replacing that of concern over his face.

Whenever Marianne looked towards her eldest child, she was always reminded of the man she had come to love, Charles. It was amazing, really, the similarities between the two, from those piercing violet eyes to the uncanny level of intellect, Lelouch never failed to remind her of her husband, and she loved him for it. Not only this, but the young boy had many times come to remind her of herself as well, his dark raven hair and spindly form, coupled with his unique sense of character, acting as but a few clues to the connection between the two, a detail from which she drew, without shame, a considerable amount of pride. He was, for all intensive purposes, the spitting image of his parents, the perfect child.

True, Marianne loved both of her children deeply, be it her son or daughter Nunnally, though it would be a lie to say she did not prefer one over the other. Nunnally was beautiful, even for her age, yet she seemed to lack the many features which had made Lelouch so special, to her dismay. Both her and Charles had actually grown excited of another child similar to Lelouch, so it had been a minor letdown when Nunnally did not prove to be as prodigious as her older brother, though, in the end, Marianne did not mind and loved her all the same. And, in any case, she couldn't bear to see Lelouch separated from the young princess, the boy pouring his heart and soul into loving the girl.

It was strange at first, at least in the eyes of the royal couple, to see their boy finally express some form of emotion towards someone other then herself, a detail which had actually elicited jealousy from her in fact, ridiculous as it was. Maybe she'd simply grown to attached to the ferocious devotion her son had shown to her, something she'd done her best to return in kind and honestly believed to have achieved as well. But now the prince had another light in his life, shinning brightly wherever she went, her elder sibling bering to every demand. She was the only one, other than herself at least, to be able to make Lelouch do anything without question, even if it was playing dress - up. And she was happy, for both herself and him.

The only part which drew some form of wanting from her son was his physical stature. True, it was a rather petty desire, considering how he'd come to prove himself, as well as surpass, virtually every aspect both she and Charles could have wanted in her first born, yet, in her defense, it would seem that, having set the bar so high so early, she could only desire more from her boy, as ridiculous or unfair it might be.

So she could only be described as ecstatic when the raven haired youngster had asked her if she could teach him to pilot a knightmare, "just like mother does" he'd said, a request she all but immediately granted, having taken Lelouch's spindly formed into her arms and hugged him tightly, squashing his face between her breast and twirling him around while delightfully laughing, an occasion to remember.

It wasn't long before she'd taken Lelouch to meet her allies, the Ashfords, the very friends who'd first introduced her to the soon to be Emperor, Charles zi Britannia. The meeting had started off well, until a small, girlish figure had appeared alongside Ruben Ashford, blonde hair and deep blue eyes observing her son, before dragging him off to play. It would become common knowledge very soon that, whatever the young heiress had done to the prince, had been emotionally scarring enough for Lelouch to bequeath the girl the noted title of She - Devil, all the while muttering about "those perverted fantasies of hers". The elders had chosen not to dive into the matter any further, Lady Ashfords questioning of the supposed incident having brought a crimson red blush to the prince's face, his eyes widened as he stuttered, "N…N…Nothing!", only to then make a beeline for the nearest rose bush, presumably to calm himself. She could only smile at her son's discomfort, so rare it was to see him express such emotion.

But having eventually gotten past the introductions and sly moments of innocent humor, Marianne had then gotten down too the more serious matters of business, the reason why she had brought Lelouch along with her in the first place: Piloting sessions.

At first Ruben had believed her to be jesting, knowing how, despite Lelouch's already developed series of success, the boy was anything but physical, a trait considered rather essential when piloting the engines of war that were Knightmares. He soon come to realize, however, how serious his surrogate daughter was, Marianne's determination shinning clearly through to the Ashford head. Her insistence had taken a much closer form to a demand from a Britannian Empress then a friendly request, a fact that had caught him slightly off guard. Nonetheless, after a considerable amount of debate, mostly oriented towards attempting to understand the reasons behind Marianne's appeal, the already aged chief engineer finally gave in, promising to instruct the boy on the delicate art that was to be a devicer. Marianne had only smiled, giving a quick thanks and embrace goodbye, before returning to her villa, Lelouch in her arms.

It was only a scant two days later, and almost only barely a week following the prince's Day of Foundation, during which said boy's training had begun, with none other than his mother as instructor. To those present at the first training session's surprise, the violet eyed child seemed to grasp ahold of the basics of piloting rather naturally, his first attempt within a Knightmare simulator, calibrated to newly developed Glasgow, netting him an above standard 62% rating, the majority of his 'kills' coming from long range and tactical moves, with only a few close combat encounters, a region where it was remarked he had considerable more difficulty at. Nevertheless, it was a promising start, the lessons advancing past basics and onto more advanced courses, to Marianne's apparent delight.

Now, if Emperor Charles 5th Consort could be described as the very pinnacle of motherhood at certain times, Knightmare combat, whether it be real or simulated, was by far not one of them. Marianne was harsh, brutal, and above all, merciless, forcing Lelouch time and time again to engage her in combat, only to flatten his artificial rear in an endless cycle of defeats. By the end of the day, Lelouch had been ragged, exhausted from his efforts as he'd attempted to fend of his beast of a mother. So harsh had the Knight of Six been that he'd actually passed out mere moments after having left the simulator, Marianne being forced to carry her child to the awaiting limousine, reassuring a slightly panicked Ruben that he would be fine and that there was nothing to fret about. She did, however, comment on how he fought valiantly, if not futility, his strategies and tactics having served as temporary buffers and delays that had allowed him to extend their sparring sessions to lengths much longer than they would have otherwise been, all the while mentioning his need for increased physicality, a detail that would soon be remedied.

And so the days went by, on and on, with the Empress and her son making their daily treks to the Ashford compound, training late into the afternoon as long as time would permit, only to then return home and rest, Lelouch always noticeably spent, though somewhat less as the weeks dragged on. He may not have developed much, though the repeated sessions did appear to have had some effect on his stamina at the ver least, Milly's teasing never letting go of said fact. Lelouch had attempted to defend himself from the petite blonde's onslaught, mentioning his relatively young age as the primary culprit to his inability, though a prompt race between the two children had all but crushed his explanations, Milly having between his run but more than half a minute. The boy had return home both angered and ashamed, vowing that he would have his vengeance on day, no matter the price.

Eventually, Marianne had reached a point where she was actually beginning to struggle against the ten year old, her teachings and techniques having ingrained themselves within her son's psyche and aiding him as he dueled his mother in their, now routine, matches, combining them with his trademark strategies in the hopes of one day, finally, defeating her. He was left to want.

"One day you'll get it darling, don't you give up!" Marianne had said, smugness in her voice.

The 11th Princes considerable abscesses, however, ultimately caught the ruling monarchs attention, his interest peaked at his son's lesser known actions, eventually summoning his favorite wife to court.

"Marianne," He'd began, voice passive yet full of authority, "do you know of your son's most recent exploits?", he inquired.

The court became silent at the singular question, their interest peaked as well considering the prince's actions upon his formal introduction, eager to learn of his actions so as to prepare themselves should some form of 'intervention' be deemed necessary. They would not sit idly by as a new threat made its presence known upon the board, their positions at stake.

The Knight of Six had simply beamed in response, responding, "Your Majesty's son has been under my tutelage for the past month, I have been teaching him the art of Knightmare piloting." Her voice was respectful and calculating, her rhetoric meeting that required by the royal court, though undeniably laced with a sense of both pride and joy.

Charles had simply arched an eyebrow at his beloved's response, choosing to know more about the subject, his curiosity peaked. "And what had the boy accomplished so far, if I may ask?" He continued, his deadpan demeanor not falling, despite his internal feelings. He had to maintain appearances, after all.

Marianne answered him, explaining with satisfaction how, "The 11th Prince's progress has gone remarkably well, his scores within the simulators having reached a commendable 84% at this time."

The summoning had ended but a short time after, Marianne having left the throne room soon after, leaving behind a both anxious and angered series of nobles, the Commoner Empress' 'good' news being considered as nothing more but another threat to there power, Lelouch's progression only resulting in a raising of their ire. But such was the law of imperial politics, and it was such that it failed to bother her. She had, however, noticed rather off topically how much an adult Schneizel and adolescent Cornelia had been absorbed into her explanations, no doubt wondering over the future implications over their younger half - sibling. Only time would tell how either of them would take the news. For now, she would continue her work, her daily sessions with her son being not but a half - hour away.

Charles zi Britannia, 98th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, was pleased. He'd convoked Marianne to see him during the hours of public court not long ago, intrigued at his son, Lelouch's, recent disappearance from the limelight. It hadn't been long ago that the 5th Empress had approached him on their son's apparent messing with the stock market, having shown the prince's bank statements as proof of his, thus far, undetected actions, the numbers being of such size that even his Knight of One, Bismarck Waldstein, had subconsciously whistled upon observing the value.

So it was only natural for him, or was it, for him to become curious as to his favorite child's actions after several weeks of apparent inactivity, unsure of the scheming and plots that may have been going on behind his back.

The man could only be described as surprised, in an all to pleasant manner, when his Knight of Six had explained to him and court how the boy, aged but only of ten years, was learning, and even excelling, at the arts of Knightmare piloting. It could truly be said that Lelouch now resembled his parents in all ways there were, the perfect combination of his and his love's most remarkable traits.

'What a son I have' The aging monarch mused, no small amount of mirth detectable within his thoughts. 'I can only imagine what you'll accomplish in the future…' The notion then trailing off, his attention brought back to the matters at hand, a rather ungodly sick of paperwork splayed across his desk.

The Emperor simply gazed down upon the papers requiring his signature, glaring at them as if attempting to will them to burst into flames, leaving him alone.

"Maybe I should begin to delegate some of these…less favorable aspects of my rule…" He muttered, annoyance and trace hints of fatigue in his tone. "Hmmm. Maybe if I made Schneizel Prime Minister…", Came his final comment, before lapsing back into the repetitive process that was signing signatures, the notion lost, at least for now, in the jumbled heap that was his Majesty's mind.

If there was a word to describe 2nd Princess Cornelia's most recent state of mind, then it was satisfaction. Her idol's son, Lelouch, was learning how to pilot Knightmares, at not but the age of ten, ten for God's sake! It was a feat in it of itself, an yet it was the truth. The son of her most respected figure, Marianne, was destined to become a pilot. It left a rather warm feeling in her stomach, a small smile adorning her otherwise serious features.

Not only was her younger half - brother the more pleasant of her siblings, her ranking of him being next to none behind Euphemia and Schneizel, as well as Odysseus, but he was also an immensely gentle should when it came to those he loved, all to similar to herself. It was a detail that had only brought the two of them close together, their relationship as kin cemented further through Euphemia's own existence.

'He's going to make a fine soldier.' She thought, amusement in her voice.

Yes, she would take the boy under her wing one day, it was destined. With him at her side she would make her Lady, his mother, proud, and they would come to protect each other in their time of need, their sisters acting as motivation should it ever be required. Life, it would seem, was looking up.

If only she'd known how it would all come crashing down so soon.

It was, as much as he could tell, well into the night when his mother woke him up, her hands softly shacking him from his, so far, peaceful slumber.

"Lelouch?" His mother's sweet tone spoke, soft and comforting, "Can you get up, mother needs you to come with her for a little while." She stated.

His mind clouded by his awakening, Lelouch simply nodded his head in compliance, his small figure, still sore from the day's piloting lessons, quickly dawning on a silken white night robe, before letting himself be led out of his room by the hand.

Following Marianne's hand in a blind fashion, Lelouch's thoughts began to run amok in the face of this unexpected occurrence, having no bearing on the reasons behind the situation. Why had his mother woken him up? What duties could they have to attend. And, more pressing of all, what could possibly have his mother's attention in the dead of nig…

And then it hit him, the full force of realization bursting its way into his mind, dragging all other processes to an immediate halt. V.V. It had to be V.V. There was no other logical explanation behind his current predicament. It was only then that he began to register his surrounding environment, the sudden sense of urgency causing a surge of adrenaline throughout his system. But it was all too late.

He realized, to his horror, that both he and his mother were on lower portion of the Aries Villa's main stairway, a small, blonde figure at the front, rifle in hand.

His body reacted instinctively, a flash of movement and a single scream ringing out into the moonlight hallway, panicked and afraid.

"MOTHER!"

For several moments, Marianne sat in a daze, confused at what events had transpired only mere seconds ago.

She had arranged a meeting with Charles' elder brother, V.V., having been requested to speak with him in the company of her son, Lelouch. Though the immortal child had not dolled out any specific details, the Empress Consort failed to see the possible danger she or her child might have been dragged into, and therefore had made preparations for the Villa's staff and guards' dismissals for the evening, ensuring none would know of the secret meeting.

She had brought Lelouch along with her as requested, and had been talking with her partner in crime for a brief period before the latter suddenly hauled out a hidden rifle from within the confines of his cape, its aim set both directly at herself and her son. It was at that moment that she had come to realize the nature of V.V.'s request, comprehension settling in all too late for her produce a solution for her or Lelouch's survival. And then there was a scream.

"MOTHER!"

She had just been considering shielding her precious son with her own body as a sort of shield, their seemingly inevitable dies but seconds away, only to realize how she'd been pushed off to the side, her back and rear landing harshly upon the nearby ground. This was soon followed by a series of gunshots ringing throughout the Villa's cavernous structure, flashes of bright yellow light, characteristic of firearms, illuminating the otherwise darkened scene, before silence had settled in once more.

Cautiously rising from her fallen position, Marianne observed the scene that was currently playing out before her very eyes, an expression of confusion almost immediately turning to one of shock. At the stairways bottom lied the limp form of V.V., 'dead', a succession of bullet holes doting what had once been his forehead, thin streams of blood oozing from the wounds and slowly pooling around the 'victims' head. More fearfully, however, was the spindly form that was her son's, limbs stretched out across the carpeted staircase, a Britannian officer's pistol dropped at his side. What she saw rocked her to her very core.

Lelouch's form was the very definition of a mother's worst nightmare, his body having been riddled with bullets and an alarmingly large pool of crimson having formed beneath his unmoving body, snow white clothing stained a blood red shade. Her child, her most precious son, was dying, shot in his attempt to protect her from the unknowing assassin whom had come in the dead of night, intentions unknown.

Snapping out of her stupor, Marianne stood up and ran towards a nearby portrait of her and her children, curtesy of an admiring Clovis, and yanked the delicate gilded frame off from its marble wall, revealing a large, and previously hidden red button. Said button was, in fact, an emergency that, when activated, would automatically signal for the immediate summoning of the Imperial Guard and medical services.

Slamming the unassuming trigger with all of her might, so much so that its outer casing, in fact, split, the panicking Marianne quickly ran back over to the unmoving body of her son, cradling him in her arms as tears made their way down her face.

She called out to him, "Lulu!? Lulu!? Can you hear me!? Please answer me! Mommy is here, alright?! Mommy is here!?" Her voice was delirious and unstable, tone wavering from the sheer horror of the moment.

An ever more pale Lelouch's eyes fluttered open, his face calm and weary, as if he'd just been awoken from slumber. "Mother?" He crocked out, his voice barely above a whisper, his voice weak and uncertain, "Why am I so cold?" He asked innocently, his tone that of death itself.

Marianne simply cradled her child ever closer to her body, hands desperately attempting to stem the blood flow as she held onto him for dear life, all the while answering, "Lulu, please stay with me, ok?! Please listen to mommy's voice! Don't close your eyes Lulu, you hear me?! Don't close your eyes!"

But the empress' desperate pleas fell upon death ears, her ten year old son eyelids having dropped down to a close, his breath ceasing as his heart stopped.

The last thing Marianne came to notice that night was a series of flashing lights outside the Aries Villa's windows and a loud bang from its main entrance's large oaken doors, a horrified Cornelia looking down upon the scene.

That night, Lelouch vi Britannia, 11th Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire and 17th in line for the Imperial Throne, son of Lady Marianne Lamperouge, died in his mother's arms.

Authors Note: Do no worry, the story does not end here! It's not over!