Recap:
Lelouch has been ordered to negotiate with the E.U., removing him from the Zeroth Division and inviting scrutiny. To return, he must find a way to bring the negotiations to an end. Kallen, a spy for the JLF, has been revealed as an ace, forcing her to become a test pilot. Her brother, Naoto/Nathan joins Ohgi in investigating something suspicious.
Chapter 3: Ides of March
The most powerful tool in every government's arsenal is fear. History is soaked in blood as men banded together to form great cities, only to tear them down again due to some primal fear. Now, we call ourselves civilized beings, but that same fear nips at our heels as we bow our head to authority. Fear though is exhausting, so we hide it under the guise of love for family, God, and country.
Britannia and the E.U., despite appearing diametrically opposed, both point to each other and stress the looming war on the horizon. The fear of invasion turns into love for their country because their glorious nation is a heroic, perhaps even divine, guardian. Under Britannia, the citizens love their Emperor because without one, war tears through their countryside. While Emperor Charles zi Britannia may have cast aside Britannia's fickle religious roots, he plays the role of God: infallible, omniscient, and omnipotent. Only family and friendship stand independent from the rigid authority of the Emperor, and it is here where Britannia is weak.
-Fear: The Double Edged Sword in Governing
Ashford Labs, Area Eleven
Naoto nodded at the receptionist as he passed through security and into the vast maze that the labs had grown into. He took a right to the elevator and entered the day's passcode. While he was now officially employed at the hospital, Lord Ashford often requested his presence. As keeping the lord happy was in his best interests, he didn't dare to complain. Privately, Naoto thought it was because the old man hated working with new people.
The elevator stopped, and Naoto waited patiently instead of exiting into the storage area as the silent security scan commenced. The door closed, and he turned around to exit through the now open secret backdoor. It felt strange walking into the private sanctuary knowing he was betraying the man who had sheltered his family.
"Nathan, you're here," Lord Ashford announced cheerfully. "I hope everything is going well at the hospital?"
"Of course," Naoto said, noting the lack of personnel on the floor and Lord Ashford's constant shadow, Thomas. "What did you need me for?"
He sighed and waved him along, leading him to a small observation deck looking out at a large cavern and a strange knightmare awkwardly moving about. "I heard some students of mine made a surprise visit at the hospital."
The heavy weight of surveillance settled on his shoulder, reminding Naoto what would happen if he wasn't careful.
"You mean Lelouch's sister? I'm sorry, Lord Ashford. I tried to refuse, but she was quite insistent, and I feared she would endanger herself without me there."
Ashford massaged his nose. "She takes after her brother in all the wrong ways."
Naoto shifted awkwardly. "Should I've done something else?"
"No." He sighed. "At least you have a chance of her listening to you. Make sure she and Euphie do not get into trouble. The consequences... would be dire."
"May I ask why?"
Lord Ashford turned to observe the knightmare. It wobbled precariously before the parts shifted into something looking more like a fantastical beast than an armored giant.
"You probably think it's some old man's idiosyncrasy, don't you? It would be a lie to say it's because they're dear friends of my granddaughter, and she would be devastated if something were to happen to them... Euphie's older sister has great influence in the army and is quite protective of her."
"And Lelouch?" Naoto dared to ask, because it wasn't Euphie he was concerned about.
Lord Ashford hesitated. "I'd hate to lose my best accountant permanently. He didn't tell you? Before he joined the military, he spent almost a year balancing my books as I tried to set up a school here and adjust to the new responsibilities of being a Margrave."
"How does a thirteen year old get employed?"
"With stellar recommendations from his mother," Lord Ashford joked weakly. "You have a life ahead of you, Nathan. Don't dig too deeply into things you don't understand."
Instead of an answer, Naoto was left with a warning. "Of course, my lord."
"Very well," Lord Ashford continued, "as to the second matter I brought you here for, Kallen visited you as well."
Naoto didn't say anything, knowing that they had risked everything. For their safety, they had to remain distant.
"She was understandably distraught, so I'll let it slide this time. I should have checked which simulation the Purists were running." Lord Ashford nodded at the knightmare. "With your father away on a business trip, I'm seeking your opinion on the matter. Kallen's status as an ace makes her situation difficult. For now, I can protect her by claiming her as my test pilot, but it's only a temporary measure."
"You're a Margrave. Nobody would be able to push her with your backing," Naoto said as his eyes widened, realizing who was in the knightmare.
"Marianne is very nosy," Lord Ashford grumbled.
"Empress Marianne?" Naoto clarified and shivered as he remembered her brutal executions during Tokyo's initial occupation. Having that woman around his little sister filled him with dread. "Why would she care about Kallen?"
"As my former test pilot, she has an incessant need to pester me about every successor of hers and test their worth. Too many resign afterwards, rightfully terrified out of their mind. It's incredibly frustrating." Lord Ashford shook his head. "I'm not sure how to broach the subject with Kallen or even if I should."
"Empress Marianne hates Numbers," Naoto said slowly. His stomach churned. If she discovered Kallen's heritage...
"Fortunately, your sister has a stellar record and Marianne has mellowed a little. Or at least adopted a broader world view."
Disturbed at the parental tone of pride in his voice, Naoto scowled. "Then she will come, have her fun, and leave us alone?"
Frowning, Lord Ashford leaned over the bar as the knightmare performed a sloppy maneuver. "Your sister has the good sense to try and pretend her simulator scores were a fluke. She thinks she's fooling me as well, constantly crashing into things or starting turns too late. An ace might have just a good sync-rate, but not the aptitude. Against a regular ace, Kallen's sabotage would make her appear unskilled and only a viable asset with much training."
Naoto's heart soared. There was a way for Kallen to return to a normal life and not be condemned to military training. At worst, she would spend the rest of her life test piloting for Lord Ashford until Japan was liberated.
"Marianne wouldn't be fooled," Lord Ashford finished with a pitying look.
"But then Kallen could still work here," Naoto pleaded desperately.
He winced. "Even between aces, there's a wide range of skill. Sync-rate, natural aptitude, and experience all play a part. Teens usually get scored as ace potentials. Nunnally's friend, Allie, is one. Given enough practice, she might develop into an ace years down the line. Kallen is already one which is very rare for her age. With practice, she will quickly outpace the majority of aces."
"What are you implying?" Naoto asked, his eyes locked onto his sister's knightmare beneath them.
"If Marianne fights her," Lord Ashford said sadly, "she will be groomed as a potential Knight of the Round."
Kallen, a Knight of the Round? It was ridiculous. She was half-Japanese. The Emperor would never allow someone like her to join. But Lord Ashford didn't crack a smile, his gaze solemn. He was serious and Naoto wanted to scream.
He was her brother. He was supposed to protect her, yet she kept moving further out of reach.
Knight of the Round.
Everyone heard the stories right next to the whispers of the OSI. Respected they may be, but they were completely loyal to the Emperor in a way Kallen could never be. She wasn't a murderer. Capable of the mass slaughters the Emperor ordered his personal troops to carry out.
"Don't tell Kallen," Naoto begged. "She already has enough on her plate without worrying about this. Please, my lord."
"I don't want to put that pressure on a child," Lord Ashford agreed. "I often wonder if I did Marianne a disservice. She would disagree naturally, but she used to be so warm and kind despite her hardships. When I introduced her to court, she had to change to survive. Catching Charles's attention... did not help."
It felt wrong hearing the Emperor's name spoken so casually. Almost humanizing because he hadn't always been the Emperor. Simply a prince leading an army to claim the crown.
Naoto's heart twisted. Empress Marianne must've been around the same age as Kallen was now. Imagining Kallen being pursued by the Emperor…
Bile rose, burning his throat.
He could kidnap her and hide her in the ghettos. She was his sister, and he wouldn't let the vile man corrupt her. Japan had to be freed for Kallen's sake.
"This plan was supposed to keep her safe," Naoto said.
Lord Ashford was silent as the knightmare stopped and Kallen disembarked, unaware of the possible fate hanging over her head. Naoto expected someone to run up and greet her, instead she collapsed into a chair. Cautiously, he stepped backwards so she would not see him.
"There's no one here. You're keeping her a secret," Naoto said and his eyes widened. "You don't want the Emperor to know."
"I can refuse Marianne for a while," he said tiredly. "She trusts me unlike the Emperor. If he orders me, it'll be substantially harder to keep his attention away from Kallen."
"You'd be willing to lie?" To commit treason.
"I don't wish to repeat my mistakes," Lord Ashford said, neither confirming nor denying but leaving Naoto without a doubt that he would do everything in his power to protect her.
It wouldn't be enough, yet the gesture warmed Naoto's heart, and he wished that there was another path to freedom. Betraying Lord Ashford hurt.
"In the meanwhile, I'll see if I can find another solution or least ensure her some protection should the worst come to pass." Lord Ashford paused and faced Naoto, smiling kindly. "Go talk to her. She could use some comfort."
"She doesn't want to see me," he said.
"Trust me, she does," Lord Ashford refuted. "If you don't, you will regret it. I will leave you be." He walked past him and stopped at the stairs. "For your sister's safety, there's no security here. You'll be able to talk freely."
The desperate urge to confess bubbled inside him. He could tell Lord Ashford everything about the suspicious military activity Ohgi observed. The high grade medical equipment they discovered. He would take care of it. Nobody would have to die...
A lie. Lord Ashford's genial demeanor hid his more ruthless side. He had, aftarall, let the Knight Police operate in Tokyo and continued to do so despite their persistent harassment of the hospital.
Naoto descended the stairs silently and watched Kallen with a fond smile as she scribbled furiously on a paper.
"Lord Ashford," she said, spinning around and her mouth dropped open as she saw him. "Naoto?"
"Hey," he said. "What are you doing?"
"Waiting for Lord Ashford to finish his tweaks," Kallen said and turned her back to him. "I don't need you."
He picked up the etiquette book beside her and raised an eyebrow at the sarcastic answers on the quiz. "You should take this more seriously, Kallen."
"Please, not you too." Kallen threw up her hands. "You're so amazing Kallen. So special. Make sure to work hard so you can slaughter everyone."
Unimpressed, he waited for her rant to finish. "Lord Ashford is only trying to help."
"I don't need his help!" She whirled around, poking him in the chest. "Can you be any more subservient? Lord Ashford this and that. It makes me sick. Have some pride, you damn coward."
"Kallen..." Unable to explain that he was fighting now, for her, he took the seat beside her. "You should take your work more seriously."
She snarled. "Don't. Just don't."
"This will help protect you," Naoto pleaded. He couldn't bear to tell her the truth, but she had to understand. "I'm not saying you have to follow the rules. Just understand them so you can protect yourself. Lord Ashford is giving you ammunition to defend yourself."
Something in his tone must have gotten through because Kallen's face relaxed and she turned to the book with renewed interest. They sat together in silence, only the sound of pages turning disturbing the peace.
Location Classified, Area Six
In hindsight, it had taken Roy embarrassingly long to realize he shouldn't emulate Lelouch's style of command. He couldn't remember two hundred people off the top of his head and bark orders while keeping plans requiring delicate timing in his head. The work Lelouch dealt with was astronomical and impossible to overcome for anyone but him.
Having come to this conclusion, Roy stopped asking himself what Lelouch would do and instead focused on what he needed to do: delegate.
Restructuring was a herculean effort. Lelouch's style of command was incredibly dependent on himself. While he trusted his men to be flexible if the need arose, he was always a radio call away to personally take charge. There were no fail safes, and Roy had slammed his head against his desk when he realized.
If anything went wrong, Lelouch had designed a system where he would shoulder all the blame.
Typical, but unsustainable.
Roy shook his head and dispersed his more irritated thoughts as Sir Bradley's caravan arrived with the necessary personnel. He would need the patience of a saint to deal with the Knight of Ten and his insatiable bloodlust.
"This is going to be fun," Gino muttered as he stopped beside him and stood, for once, at a proper attention. "I swear I still have bruises from the last time he insisted on a spar."
"The other pilots are all out of sight?" Roy asked.
"What pilots? The landscapers are on the opposite side of the camp with engineering," Gino said.
They could only push officially Britannian policy so far. Having Numbers in command positions was already scandalous and even Lelouch didn't dare to officially have a Number pilot a knightmare. Instead, they had "landscapers" who were charged with digging trenches and building mounds... with knightmares.
One day, the pilots would be allowed to fight officially instead of being called on as a last resort backup. But not today. Especially not with Bradley, and his renown distaste for Numbers, running around.
"Sir Bradley," Roy greeted with a crisp salute. His eyes widened as he spotted a shorter figure rolling out of the car and dropped into a formal bow. Shit.
"Oh, right. The brat isn't here." Bradley leaned in, his minty breath assaulting Roy's nose as he stared into his eyes. "This place reeks. But I make you uneasy. Not that filth. I'll be watching you. Don't want any... misplaced sympathy."
Roy forced a smile. "A pleasure as always, Sir Bradley. The Emperor honors us with your presence."
Bradley threw back his head and laughed. "I can't wait to wash my knightmare with blood. Perhaps a warm up? There are too many cockroaches running around. Not knowing their place."
"Lucy, be nice," Empress Marianne barked, saving Roy from having to answer the homicidal maniac.
Bradley flinched and retreated behind her. "Yes, sir."
"Acting Major General," Empress Marianne greeted, her eyes scanning the assembled soldiers behind him. She grimaced, clearly finding them lacking.
Feeling a surge of pride, Roy straightened. He wasn't just Lelouch's second in this moment, but Zero's as well. "Are you taking command, Your Majesty?"
There was no discernable reason she would be here otherwise. Maybe he wasn't trusted to lead the operation adequately. If she took charge, Lelouch would be pissed but he didn't have the authority to rebuff her. Roy though would be glad to shed some of the responsibility from his shoulders.
"No, I'm here in the official capacity as the Knight of Six. Shall we take this somewhere more private? Sir Weinberg, you're invited as well."
It wasn't a suggestion.
Roy bowed his head and led the way to his (Lelouch's) office, trying to understand what would necessitate two Knights of the Round's presence. He resigned himself to the fact that their carefully laid plans were about to burst in flames. Bradley was a chaotic element although his presence wasn't too unexpected with Gino being their only official knightmare pilot. Empress Marianne though...
Something had caught the Emperor's eye.
Roy stood awkwardly in his office, wondering what the proper etiquette was. Officially, they were under his command. Practically, Empress Marianne could have him executed for the slightest insult, and he hadn't made the most favorable impression in Area Two.
"The Lefay is amazing. I didn't know a knightmare could move like that," Gino gushed as he closed the door, all sense of propriety forgotten. "Is it true that you always have a perfect synchronization rate? I heard that even now, no one else can pilot the Ganymede."
Gino... Roy tensed, ready to apologize for his enthusiasm.
Empress Marianne leaned back and laughed heartily. "Impress me and, after the mission, I may show you a trick or two."
Gino's eyes sparkled, and Roy hoped he had never looked like that. Yes, she was amazing, but manners. Admire from a distance.
Clearing his throat, Roy asked, "Should I be concerned that His Majesty sent two Knights of the Round? We are of course honored by your presence."
"I was bored." She shrugged. "What is the situation?"
An hour later, they left and Roy pulled out a handkerchief to dab the back of his neck. Briefing them had been surprisingly easy. Empress Marianne had made a few suggestions, but for the most part, seemed pleased with his work. And for once, Bradley hadn't argued against minimizing casualties, saying the weak deserved to die.
"Gino," Roy said as the knight moved to the door. "Please, remember your manners."
"Oh..." Gino scratched the back of his head. "That was rude, wasn't it?"
"Yes." Roy held back a sigh. "Yes, it was. Not all of us have the... protection of a family name. It's best they remain in a good mood. Go entertain them."
"Yes, sir." Gino saluted then ruined it by walking into the door.
Massaging his temples, Roy finally dared to sit down and searched the cabinet for his emergency stash of coffee. He needed his wits. Empress Marianne wouldn't come to their division out of boredom. Not with her distaste of Numbers. He needed to discover the real reason for the safety of the division.
"I expected more shouting," Alex said as he entered the office and raised an eyebrow at the papers he was frantically scanning. "Thought you'd be happier with your idol here. A chance to make a good impression this time."
Roy glared at his friend who raised his hands defensively. "If I knew why two Knights of the Round were here, it'd be better."
"Empress Marianne never travels without another knight." Alex shrugged. "Maybe Bradley is here as her guard. I'd worry if it was the Knight of Three or so."
Shaking his head, Roy leaned back. "The only reason she doesn't have a higher rank is politics. She defeated Bismarck. For almost any operation, she is overkill. For ours... It's like using a flamethrower to exterminate a single spider."
The timing was strange. For three years, they only had to deal with Bradley dropping in to randomly assist on missions. While he definitely swung the odds into their favor, the consequences of his involvement were usually dire. A few months ago, he had disobeyed orders and massacred a village.
His justification: He felt like it.
Unlocking one of the file cabinets, he withdrew Lelouch's notes. His friend suspected that Bradley's flagrant disregard for orders was at the Emperor's behest. Roy wasn't sure which left the worst taste in his mouth. The Emperor willfully empowering a loose cannon like Bradley and seeing the collateral as the cost of doing business. Or him ordering massacres for reasons they couldn't comprehend.
Now, Lelouch took an extended vacation for the first time in three years and Empress Marianne arrived. It didn't feel like a coincidence.
Roy looked up at Alex who seemed too calm. "You know something."
"Just a guess." Alex didn't elaborate, but left with a knowing smile.
The day after, Roy watched the warehouse they intended to capture go up in flames. Predictably, Bradley was at fault and he could hear Empress Marianne reprimanding over the coms. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before asking for the casualty reports and buried his anger as Bradley mocked the men he had killed.
The soldiers his reckless actions had killed.
"Numbers scream the best. Always so proud in their silent defiance, but when the time comes, they blubber like newborn babes. How loudly do your Numbers scream?" Bradley asked him in the middle of camp, his eyes alight with wicked amusement.
"What Numbers, Sir Bradley? I only see Honorary Britannians." Roy smiled politely as he imagined his fist breaking the man's nose. Making him bleed the same blood he so eagerly spilled.
Why hadn't they left yet? The operation was over. Instead, they hung around. Bradley sowed dissension among the ranks as his cruel words belittled them while playing with his knife, a silent promise for when Roy turned his back. Empress Marianne never interfered on the Number's behalf, only when Bradley's ire turned on the few Britannians.
York was godsend as two days turned into three and then into a week. He was there whenever Roy turned, willing to help with whatever task and run interference with Bradley. The two of them didn't get along at all.
"We need to do something," Pablo said as they finished discussing logistics. "Everyone is one edge. I've broken up three separate brawls today."
"It's not like I can tell them to leave," Roy grumbled. "The Emperor will recall them soon enough."
The door opened and Gino, his hair in disarray and a blossoming welt on his cheek, snuck inside, collapsing in a chair. "Bradley won't give up. Keeps ordering me to fight."
"Tired of getting your ass handed to you?" Pablo snorted. "You have it easy. Leo is on bed rest for the next two week because of Bradley's little friendly spar."
Gino winces. "I'm sorry. I just wanted a few hours of peace and he goes and stabs Leo because I'm not there to entertain him."
"I'm open to suggestions," Roy offered as he signed off on an order form. "For both of them. Empress Marianne... She's always watching me. Keeps asking me to explain what I'm doing. A legal suggestion please."
Pablo coughs. "You may want to reassign Alex to the other side of the base. We wouldn't want Bradley's unfortunate affair with the bathroom to escalate."
Roy buried his head in his hands at the implications. Poisoning a Knight of the Rounds, even if it was just laxatives, was an executable offense. Pulling out a notepad, he made a note to reassign Alex.
There had to be something that would force them to leave.
"Gino," Roy said suddenly, the boy jerking awake. "Is there any knightmare part Bradley can't easily replace?"
"Oh, force him to return to Pendragon for repairs," Gino said. "It's a custom frame. He's only got standard parts for repairs. So, the drill, I guess."
"Sabotage is risky," Pablo cautioned. "We'll be the first ones he suspects."
No. They couldn't sabotage the drill. Not without risking getting caught.
Roy drummed his finger along the table. If only they knew more about the custom frame...
The drill had to be heavy. Bradley never used it in the friendly knightmare spars he insisted on dragging Gino into, instead using a modified spear. But only with his right arm.
Roy smiled. "The right arm must be reinforced to accommodate the weight of the drill. How hard do you think it would be to repair, Gino?"
"It's not much bigger, but you're right. The drill is heavy. More expensive materials maybe. The Ganymede..." Gino mumbled to himself as he pondered the trouble. For all his social obliviousness, he loved knightmares and knew them inside and out. "I've been able to dodge his attacks because the right elbow joint has a limited degree of motion compared to the normal Sutherland. If the arm is heavier, then the joint has to be reinforced..."
"Would they return to Pendragon to fix it?" Roy asked and at his nod, bared his teeth. "Next time he invites you to a knightmare spar, focus your attacks on the joint. I don't care how damaged your knightmare gets. Fixing it is less expensive than dealing with the fallout because someone decides to try and kill the bastard."
"Understood, sir," Gino said eagerly.
The next morning, Roy listened to the glorious incoherent screams as Bradley realized his arm was functionally useless. A small smile tugged on the edge of his lips, muted by professionalism. The soldiers near him didn't have the same restraints, basking in the anguish of their tormentor.
"We'll be leaving in a few hours," Empress Marianne said, rolling up beside him. "I would say Bradley has learned a lesson in restraint, but that would be too optimistic of me."
"Your Majesty," Roy greeted, watching her warily. Did she suspect them of engineering the sparring accident? Would she punish them?
Ahead of them, a soldier walked into a post and Roy bit back a sigh.
"This division has a remarkable interplay between incompetency and competency. The former of which seems to increase in my presence."
She had definitely noticed. While they rarely coordinated with other units in the military, the situation occasionally required it. After one particular disastrous encounter with a noble, Lelouch suggested that the division play into stereotypes outside of combat. Lacking initiative. Unable to follow anything but the simplest orders. Physically incapable.
Britannians feared empowering the Numbers which the division did. Each soldier, Number or commoner, had the chance to prove themselves just as skillful as some noble. And they did.
Roy took a deep breath, wondering how much she had already known. Would she blame Lelouch?
Diplomatically, he said, "I will take whatever action necessary to protect my men, especially from reprisal of a fearful noble. No insult was meant towards you, Your Majesty."
She hummed. "I know Lamperouge made the suggestion."
"It was a mutual decision," Roy defended.
"You would lie to protect him?"
His heart thundered. "I could have stopped him."
She snorted. "Somehow, I doubt that. You've made changes in his absence, yet given the chance, you moved to shoulder the blame instead of attempting to advance your own career. If you don't seek to advance your career, what do you desire then?"
Roy swallowed. Once, he thought he had the answer. Honor and awards to make his family proud and improve his legacy. Instead, he had followed Lelouch on a suicide assignment to protect him. Even now, he stayed, to his family's displeasure.
"For my friends and I to grow old together. To marry. Raise a family." It didn't feel like a proper Britannian answer.
"Yet you risk my ire. Even stood up to Bradley. You did well in Lamperouge's absence. York says you handled the transition better than expected." Empress Marianne regarded him and he froze. The past week and a half of torture had been purposeful, testing him. "Lamperouge has trouble delegating unless absolutely necessary. I was expecting more chaos upon my arrival. A substitute quaking under the sudden stress of a position."
He flinched. That had been him until a few days before.
"It seems Lamperouge, despite his unorthodox command style, chose competent subordinates who cover his weaknesses."
Was the test for Roy or Lelouch? Had his friend's sudden vacation been orchestrated?
If his grandmother could see him now, she would yell at him for catching the attention of royals. Nothing good ever came of wading into the politics of the upper court that jostled for the Emperor's favors. And Alex was right. Lelouch had somehow managed to get himself tangled up with the Emperor.
Why could things never be easy with him? No wonder Lelouch was already starting to have grey hairs.
Empress Marianne continued, "You handled Bradley better than most. Even seasoned commanders struggle with reigning him in. It's always an amusing test of character to let him run loose. Instructing Sir Weinberg to damage his knightmare to force him to return was a smart decision. Most don't dare to go on the offensive against him."
"He purposefully agitates my men and hospitalized one of them," Roy said, thoroughly unimpressed by the games they had been playing. "Was my performance to your satisfaction, Your Majesty? Or may we continue with the directive His Majesty has ordained?"
"Lamperouge's impertinence is contagious. You would do well in court." She sneered, surveying their surroundings. "It's a shame to have talent waste here."
"Scarcity breeds ingenuity; suffering, fortitude; and injustice, loyalty. Somewhere else, I would have floundered, Your Majesty."
"Knighthood isn't just reserved for knightmare pilots, but also those of exceptional skill. While this division may have forged you, you cannot reach new heights here. Nor can Lamperouge. If given half the resources Princess Cornelia has, he would have already conquered the Middle Eastern Federation."
Saying Empress Marianne was right would be to criticize royalty. Princess Cornelia was a military genius, likened to Athena. Birthed on the battlefield. To deny that was stepping into dangerous, uncharted territory.
Even if Roy fully believed that Lelouch would find a way to overcome any challenge, a war would destroy him.
Anti-terrorism and crime was in the protection of Britannia and its people. Conquest-to bring the hammer down onto other countries and forcibly subjugate them-was not.
Roy cleared his throat, choosing his words with care. "Princess Cornelia has the wisdom of experience. While victory could perhaps be achieved quicker, there would be a cost." The tattered remains of Lelouch's innocence which had already been stolen long before. "As it is, much of our victories can be attributed to the flexibility afforded to us. Flexibility which I do not think the rest of the military would embrace at the time."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you do not want to leave. I will be sure to inform Charles, but the decision will rest with him. You will after all go where you serve the Empire best?"
He bowed, fearing his face would betray his true thoughts. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"Excellent. Since you have ever so politely declined my generosity, what boon do you seek?"
His mind raced, before remembering the upcoming festivities and the unique chance it afforded him. "Extended block leave around Empire Day for the division. Last year, we had an operation at the time."
She raised her eyebrows. "Have you already used your allotted leave?"
"No, Your Majesty. But as Major General Lamprouge must attend to family matters around the time, my extended absence would be detrimental to the division."
"Planning another beach vacation with your girlfriend? Or is it because of your grandmother's declining health?"
Despite her genial tone, he shivered at the blatant invasion of privacy. He and his family were being watched and she was warning him. For what purpose, he didn't know.
"Family politics," he said, which technically his wedding fell under.
She huffed, exasperated, but granted the division a few extra weeks of time off before rolling away. Roy didn't allow himself to breathe easier until their caravan disappeared.
He had survived. Somehow. And once again was wondering how the hell Lelouch had managed to entangle himself with royalty.
On the bright side, with Roy and Lelouch finally having vacation time that coincided, he could begin planning his wedding in earnest. Firstly, he had a letter to write to warn Lelouch. Her Majesty's interrogation had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Zeroth Division Base, Area Six
Lelouch, sitting across from his two siblings, absently stirred the soup as he perused the files he requested from York. The sooner he completed his father's objective, the sooner he could return to his division.
Being away for so long made his skin itch. There were so many things which could go wrong. And the letters from his friends had started to include annoying redactions.
Judging from the displeased tone, it was about Bradley, but he couldn't be sure. Additionally, nobody should be censoring his mail. Not after the fiasco in Area Two. Which meant his father was meddling and didn't want Lelouch to know what he was doing exactly. Or maybe he was doing nothing and only wanted to drive Lelouch mad with the idea that he could be doing something.
"You should eat, Lelouch," Schneizel interrupted his thoughts, "instead of bringing work to dinner. It is most uncouth."
Guinevere scowled. "Your manners are disrespectful to our father's blood. Allowing your commoner heritage to display so prominently is shameful."
He pressed his lips together and neatly collected the papers, lining up the edges, and setting it aside, before returning to staring at the soup. It was probably delicious. Schneizel was hosting dinner tonight, and his cook would've undergone numerous background checks. Tasters checked all their meals. His siblings had already finished their soup without ill effects.
Rationally, it was safe.
He lifted a spoon of the ice cold fluid to his lips and forced himself to swallow as his stomach churned uneasily. Grimacing, he pushed the soup away. "My apologies. I'm not hungry."
"Perhaps if you spent less time dabbling in the kitchen, you would have an appetite," Schneizel reprimanded. "You barely ate anything yesterday either."
"Why do you sully yourself by visiting the servants' domain?" Guinevere scowled. "I see Father sent you here because your mother has been remiss in your education. Tomorrow, you can host us and we can"-she waved her hand at him-"begin to remedy whatever this is."
Lelouch took a deep breath. At parties, he had no trouble blending in and holding the mask for the scarce few hours he had to attend. His anti-social behavior helped him stay away from prying eyes and cover his more idiosyncratic habits. Here, under the constant surveillance of his two elder siblings, his mask crumbled.
He had long forgotten how to be vi Britannia outside of balls. Who even was vi Britannia?
Being a civilian was difficult. Even Lamperouge, the doting brother who visited Nunnally, was tiresome. His back felt bare outside of his uniform. His arms hanging limplessly, useless. And after Milly yelled at him for absently playing with a knife, his hands itched for a weapon to defend himself. But people knew Lamperouge was a soldier so they made concessions.
Nunnally's friends at Ashford always stayed in his field of view. They avoided making sudden abrupt noises without warning. And they never served him tea.
Vi Britannia's life had entirely too much tea served at every opportunity. Even in the hospital, Nathan had learned to keep him away from anesthesia. That he didn't intend an insult by only eating the food he had prepared himself.
Schneizel and Guinevere didn't know though which made things difficult. They expected a teenager with a refined palette, impeccable manners, and innocent to the violent nature of men.
Frowning, Lelouch nodded at Guinevere. "I am afraid I would be a poor host. I do not have the necessary entourage to entertain guests."
"It needs not to be fancy," Schneizel assured. "Guinevere's idea has merit. If your cook incessantly tempts you to the kitchen, then they surely must have prodigious skill."
Lelouch glanced at the cold soup and at his siblings. He had things to scheme. A shopping list to write for Frederick, preferably in English this time. A chess game to lose in the evening. And a box of cookies to mail to Kaguya.
Tiring of the constant deceit, he told the truth, "Cooking happens to be a hobby I enjoy. While I could prepare a meal for both of you, it would hardly be proper."
Scandalized, Guinevere pressed her fingers against her lips.
Schneizel hesitantly asked, "Lelouch, how many people do you employ?"
"My guards, Frederick and Henry," Lelouch answered. A lie would have been too easily discredited. He did take the moment to enjoy the novelty of seeing Schneizel at a loss for words.
"Brother..." Schneizel floundered. "May I ask why? Your guards are certainly not sufficient for domestic affairs and they should be focusing on guarding you."
"Servants cost money. Money which I don't have."
He could stop investing his father's stipend in the division and give himself a raise. It wouldn't be enough to support the lifestyle his siblings expect, but at least allow him to fill the essential positions. He didn't want to.
Hiring a servant was inviting another one of his father's spies into his life. Or a spy of a noble or sibling. It would mean that even in the security of his new residence he couldn't drop his mask. The servants would gossip. They would question why he only ate food he or Frederick-who always managed to overcook everything-prepared. Why he cursed in other languages. Why he never slept alone.
The last time Lelouch had willingly slept alone was before the failed assassination of his mother.
Guinevere, her usual pinched scowl absent, glanced at their brother. "If money is the issue, I'm willing to lend you some of my servants to correct this travesty. With proper budgeting, you can recompense me the necessary wages. As much as I may despise it, you are royalty. No one can live like that."
Lelouch bit back a chuckle. His sister was being almost cordial for once and he wouldn't insult her generosity. "Your concern is appreciated, but I am fine. Frederick and Henry are adequate for my needs."
"How?" Guinevere asked.
"The same way most people do, I imagine," Lelouch answered dryly. "My mother lived on less while she worked for Lord Ashford. Unlike yourself, Father does not deem such a generous allowance necessary for me. And unlike Schneizel, I do not have a lucrative career to support myself."
"How much is your stipend?" Schneizel asked and his brow furrowed at Lelouch's answer. "A child's sum. Have you not asked for a raise since you were ten?"
"I wouldn't bother Father with such paltry matters." Lelouch rose, collecting his papers. "If you would excuse me?"
"Father expects you to negotiate your stipend once a year. It is how he shows favor." Schneizel walked to his side, plucking the papers out of his hands. "As a prince, you have social responsibilities which your current monetary situation makes impossible to meet. Although I guess this casts your reclusiveness in a different light. Father will correct this oversight once you draw his attention to it."
"I'm not asking that bastard for anything," Lelouch growled, clenching his fists. He would not give him additional leverage to hold over his head. Already, Lelouch was forced to play his whims. Monetary chains would only tie him closer to the man's will.
Schneizel didn't reply, instead skimming through the intelligence reports on General Smilas and Leila Malcal. "How did you get OSI files?"
"I asked my mother," Lelouch lied. "If I could please have them back? Thank you."
Outside of the dining room, Henry fell into step behind him. "I think you have thoroughly confused your siblings."
"Good." It would keep them off balance and keep Lelouch off his brother's chess board for now. A piece was only useful if one knew what it could do. Neither of his siblings believed the role he played at court and until he could find another appropriate mask, he would cast himself the role of a wildcard.
"Frederick has been acting suspicious," Henry added as they entered the side of the compound reserved for them with numerous empty rooms that Lelouch couldn't fathom a use for.
Lelouch hummed as he deposited the papers in the safe and grabbed a notepad to scribble down his shopping list. "Why do we call it a pineapple instead of ananas or some variation like the rest of the world?"
Henry sighed. "I don't know. About Frederick-"
"I trust him," Lelouch said firmly, straightening. "Hopefully, Frederick can find some cantaloupe this time. Otherwise, I will need to make a shopping expedition and I don't think my dear siblings will survive the shock when their spies report me engaging in such plebeian affairs."
Picking up one of his prepackaged meals and checking the unbroken seal, Lelouch flashed a smile at Henry before thoughtfully staring out the window. "Grab my coat, Henry. We'll leave through the servants door. Do you think I should grab a danish as well?"
"A brat tries to pickpocket you and you bribe him with dinner," Henry groused.
"Well they can't all be like Alex." Lelouch chuckled and his hand reflexively drifted to his pocket. "Besides, our little friend is so eager to please. Without him, we wouldn't know dear Leila's evening plans at the gentleman club to arrange our fortuitous encounter. Or that my charming brother has been sneaking into the E.U. consulate and taking care to not be seen."
Henry shook his head and dumped a coat into his arms along with a prepackaged bag of cookies. "I'm sure you'll find someone to bribe with this. Losing a chess game is going to be expensive."
"Unfortunately, but Schneizel has been making a nuisance of himself at the clubs and if he hears I did well, he'll ambush me again with an interrogation under the guise of playing chess."
Lelouch stepped outside into the cooling evening air. Losing would also help assuage some of General Smilas's fears. While he was still figuring out the finer details of his plan, it wouldn't work if General Smilas continued to regard him with such extreme suspicion. He glanced down at the bag of cookies and pressed his lips together.
He had to do this. For Nunnally.
Ashford Academy, Area Eleven
Somehow, Nunnally's side project had picked up countless volunteers. First, Euphie and Allie had gotten into an argument over the movie, Empress Elizabeth and Zombies, and whether it was fair to tarnish the image of royalty during a student council meeting. They let their upcoming interview with the once famous star, Andrew Cameron, slip and suddenly everyone was clamoring to know the details.
Nunnally had intended to start things slowly. Reveal Britannia's cruelty to Euphie gradually so by the time she thought to look away it would be too late.
Unfortunately, fate had different plans and unwilling to reveal that she ran the somewhat contentious Chrysanthemum-which had gained a considerable following as well as an impressive collection of cease and desist letters-had lied about starting a journalism club.
Milly invited herself. The rest of the student council followed, Rivalz recorded Mr. Cameron's interview, and, by the end of the week, the entire school had watched it.
Nunnally shook her head as she sat in the corner of what once was the student council room and had been turned into the Andrew Cameron fan club. Interviews with famous people were always risky due to the scrutiny they invited, but they had the benefit of reaching a wider audience. Unlike her mother, Mr. Cameron was approachable. When he spoke of how he broke his back doing a stunt and suddenly his old friends wouldn't meet his eyes, his pain felt relatable and too close to home.
Who didn't fear rejection from their peers?
Britannia had made a mistake pushing Mr. Cameron out of the spotlight. Most hadn't even heard of his accident, left instead to wonder at what happened to Captain Britannia. To hear the man begging for just one last chance to perform drove them to action.
Their concern was just for the former star. They didn't care or think of the others Britannia denied the opportunity to partake in society. But it was a beginning. Something which could be fanned. Force her parents to stop being casual observers.
Even if it was all happening way too fast for comfort.
Allie collapsed beside her with a long groan. "Trying to impose a budget on the film club is impossible. They're going all out for Andrew Cameron's Last Stand or whatever they're calling it now. I swear they've entirely scrapped the storyboard twenty times in the past hour."
As if to prove her point, one of the students exclaimed that they had a better idea and the room erupted in a cacophony of shouting and chairs screeching against the ground.
Nunnally chuckled. "Mr. Cameron is arriving in an hour. I'm sure he'll have his own ideas and they'll settle down, even if it's just hero worship."
"Did you tell them he's arriving?" Allie asked, her phone buzzing.
"Where would be the fun in that?" Nunnally frowned as her friend fell silent. "Something important?"
"Just worried... We are openly going against Britannian policy. I don't think our friends realize that. I want this to succeed, but we're going to be shut down."
Nunnally reached out and found her friend's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "They'll be too late. Why do you think I insisted on holding the meetings here? Security is more lax and, even then, Lord Ashford is busy running interference with my mother because of Kallen. He's not going to concern himself when the sudden spike of interest in film. With Milly involved, he'll just think it's her normal insanity."
"Lord Ashford isn't the only one we have to worry about."
"Yes, but he keeps other parties away. And due to some convenient conspiracy theories"-Nunnally elbowed her friend as she snorted-"people are using the tech club's secure messaging system."
"Isn't this great," Euphie interrupted. "Everyone is working together and there are so many new ideas. Mr. Cameron will love this."
Nunnally winced. He had accepted the risks, saying he would do it out of spite if nothing else. But Euphie's bright vision of the future where they corrected such injustices would not pass any time soon.
"Nunnally?" Euphie asked, settling on the floor.
She could claim distraction. Pretend that she was just as naïve and then express horror when the inevitable consequences followed. Still, they were sisters and Euphie's only crime was ignorance. It would be too cruel.
"We're going to run afoul censors," Nunnally said. "Our short film might even be labeled seditious."
"Yet making Empress Elizabeth a zombie is okay?" Euphie asked, affronted. "We have freedom of the press."
Allie groaned. "Just because you think it's improper... We have a blacklisted actor who has publicly, even if only in small presses, suggested Britannia's emphasis on strength is misguided. And freedom of the press is an illusion. Everything is restricted. Gwen had to build a reputation for being proper to get access to any sensitive materials. Even then, all press releases are run by someone before being made public."
"But you can still say whatever you wish," Euphie argued, her voice sharpening.
Dryly, Nunnally said, "You may want to talk to your sister.".
"That's... military. It's different. As long as it's the truth, we're fine. Nothing happened because of the interview after all."
Nunnally smiled politely and leaned back. There was no convincing her. The truth was only a matter of perspective. Even when confronted with evidence, the narrative would be twisted out of their hands. Their interview with Mr. Cameron had been buried, more relevant celebrities suddenly pushed in people's news feed. It didn't draw traffic, thus Britannia was content to let it languish in the graveyard of the internet.
She had refrained for now from linking to it on her blog for a reason and fortunately had the foresight to share a local copy with the students. Only those on campus could access it which let it slip beneath the radar. The resulting theories from students who noticed they couldn't view it elsewhere had been amusing.
If traffic spiked significantly, then the video would be deemed a threat.
Everything was a matter of timing. She would share the link on her blog a few hours before the short film dropped. Two long time followers had already agreed to mirror it in the E.U. and Chinese Federation. By the time her link was blocked, the short film would have dropped. Being creative content, it would hopefully take longer before being removed. The time was essential for her loyal readers to spam their private copies of the interview.
And then the OSI would come knocking and her blog would finally be shut down. Chrysanthemum would live on only abroad, outside of her influence.
If only Milly hadn't jumped the gun. Nunnally could've taken her time. Built a wider network of support. Saved her precious brainchild from its demise. Forced her parents to confront the consequences of their actions.
All that wasted effort for something which would cause a few days of outrage and then be forgotten. She would need to start from scratch again. The only positive was that the Emperor wouldn't suspect her involvement.
Her mother might be suspicious but would remain silent, not daring to damage their tenuous relationship further. Unlike the Emperor, she at least tried.
If only she would stop peddling Britannian rhetoric. People looked up to her. Admired her for overcoming what should've been a career ending injury and returning with a vengeance.
Yet she refused to advocate for accommodations. As always, Lelouch did more.
Years ago, Nunnally had promised to be his ears to help return the favor. No longer was it enough to pass on juicy rumors or to use her network to probe for information at his behest. He was still fighting and suffering because of her.
The Emperor, undeserving of the title of Father, kept pushing him, never giving him a chance to recover.
She knew Lelouch was terrified that his attentions would turn to her and force her in a similar position to betray her morals and values. She wished the Emperor would. If only to give her brother a well deserved break.
He didn't see her because of her blindness. It was a mistake she would make him regret.
"Rivalz is cute," Euphie suddenly said. "Him being the camera man is absolutely adorable."
Moving against the Emperor would be much easier if everyone wasn't constantly distracted.
"Really?" Allie said slowly. "He looks like he's about to fall over. At least Roland isn't swaying and has some muscle on him. His eyes are pretty."
"He looks too much like Lelouch. What do you think Nunnally?"
"Of what?" Nunnally asked as she listened to the soft, but assured, steps of Kallen entering the room. She had a distinctive gait, always light on her toes and ready to move.
Initially, she had thought to recruit her because of her heritage. Being half-Japanese meant she would see things more clearly. Unlike Euphie, whose optimism blinded her.
"Rivalz. Do you think he is cute?" Euphie leaned closer, her breath warming her cheek.
Nunnally pushed her back. "His grand muscles? His brilliant eyes? His hair which is spun of gold? I have no idea why you find him attractive. He smells and his voice cracks."
"You have to like someone?" Euphie insisted and Allie stilled.
Nunnally groaned. "Even if I did, I wouldn't say. What do you think Nelly would do to poor Rivalz if she heard you fancied him?"
"Which girl did Rivalz piss off now?" Kallen asked, her footsteps stopping before them.
"Nothing," Euphie quickly defended. "I just said he's cute."
"And I reminded her of our shared plight of overprotective elder siblings," Nunnally said. "I thought Lord Ashford kept you until six."
"He had a meeting," Kallen said. "I'm busy for a few weeks and return to chaos. I don't have to help, right? I barely have enough time for schoolwork as is."
Nunnally's left hand gently coasted over her watch. She had been trying to catch Kallen alone ever since the disastrous incident at the simulators, but Lord Ashford had kept her busy. Even if she wanted to stay to greet Mr. Cameron and pull him aside to deliberate, she couldn't pass up the opportunity. Milly would have to handle things.
Standing up, she stretched out her hand. "You're joining us for dinner and will regale us with your tales from work. How many times have you crashed into a wall?"
"Thank you for the offer-" Kallen began.
Nunnally tilted her head. "Do you want me to loudly pester you here?"
Bound by orders to be discreet about being a test pilot, Kallen had no choice but to accept. Lelouch and Schneizel would've been proud.
Random Thoughts
-My thoughts on E.U.'s system of government and a wonderful review explaining the French Consulate has led me down a lengthy rabbit hole from which I have not recovered. (Hence, Random Thoughts). Once again, I'm wondering what the hell the creators were thinking as I'm trying to make sense of the timeline. Also am just wondering if I should have Napoleon skip the dictatorship phase but who knows. Maybe everything got reformed during the First Pacific War which seems like some World War II analogue. I'm also currently debating whether the French flag even has three colors and the national motto so...
-Roy and Naoto are heading toward a nervous breakdown. Lelouch is having a bit of an identity crisis. Nunnally has been dealing with feelings of inadequacy for a while and nursing quite a bit of resentment for years so she's a fluffy ball of rage that's flailing around and hasn't quite figured out to focus on a target yet. And starting her teens, she feels invincible. Have fun Charles and Marianne.
-I discovered via my discord that cantaloupe is a rockmelon in Australia. So Lelouch is having some issues with food being labeled otherwise.
Author's Note:
I've returned on time and I'm only missing one not-so-essential-internal-organ. One of my betas had to unfortunately take a hiatus so I hope the chapter wasn't too rough. They're the one who calls me out on the fact that stringing words together doesn't necessarily imbue them with meaning. And other issues such as dropped descriptions or things that just don't work. As a result, this chapter will probably undergo minor revisions to make sure things came across as I intended them to.
I'm also experimenting with including a short recap to help my numerous characters and remind you of older plot threads. What do you think? What was your favorite part this chapter?
And since I've apparently forgotten to make this explicit: If there's an element of my worldbuilding, characters, or whatever you like, feel free to use it. Credit is appreciated but unnecessary. It's fanfiction. Do whatever you will. And hey, if I inspire something, feel free to drop a link and I might take a look.
Thank you Spaded Ace18 on FFN for your help with proofreading.
Chat with me on the discord: / uSBegVj