In the days that followed Nunnally's announcement of Aurora's impending visit, Suzaku's sleep was patchy at best. Last night, between hungry, flinching thoughts of Aurora and cold, hard reprimands that sounded through his head in his father's booming voice, Suzaku wondered idly if he could even remember what it was like to sleep well, and for more than a few hours at a time. It only made it worse, though, to recall it, vividly – he'd slept like an exhausted infant regularly during much of his time in Ireland.
It was in the wee hours of the morning before he finally obeyed his own commands for sleep. And now, he was rudely awakened from his hard-won rest by the alternating beep and buzz of his phone. Peeling one eye open, half of his face still pressed deeply into his pillow, he cast out his hand for the device, snagging it on the first try with an accuracy that spoke of habit. Zero was often summoned at inopportune hours, but this was one of the few times it actually dragged him out of sleep.
Squinting his one free eye in irritation, he stabbed his thumb at the green phone icon, rolling over just enough to free his mouth and answer with a curt, husky, "Yes?"
"Sir? This is Stevens."
The head of external security, steady as an ox and tough as granite. Suzaku sat up, sleep draining from his system like bathwater emptying from a tub.
"I was calling to give you an update on Her Majesty's special guest. Lady Simmons' plane has landed, and she will be arriving at the palace in approximately forty-five minutes, accounting for traffic."
Even as the shivers worked up and down Suzaku's spine, he nodded, his voice calm and unaffected.
"Good. Let me know when they've reached Rience Avenue." It was the quarter mile marker to the palace, commonly used as the point marking the final approach of arriving visitors.
"Of course, my lord."
Suzaku didn't wait for the dead air to hum in his ear – ending the call, he slid to the edge of the bed, details tumbling through his brain like blocks sent rolling across a child's floor as he stood to head towards the shower. Lady Simmons was Aurora's cover, ostensibly one of Nunnally's distant relatives visiting while in the country to check on her family's mining operations just west of Aurelius. As far as covers went, it –
Suddenly, one of the blocks rolled to the surface, stopping Suzaku in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder at the phone he'd left adrift amongst the rumpled sheets, then down at his hand.
His right hand.
Moving entirely on auto-pilot, he'd answered the phone with his right hand, holding it to his right ear. Slowly, he raised his hand, fingers curled and tensed. When the tension was released and the dry snap of his fingers cut through the silence, Suzaku blinked in shock, the sound perfectly audible in the ear that hadn't heard anything in over a week. Silently mouthing his confusion and disbelief, Suzaku scrubbed a hand through his hair, then swiped both over his face.
He didn't have time for this, he decided brusquely. With a determined stride, he headed towards the bathroom. If, during his shower, he ran a finger thoughtfully over the edge of his right ear, well.
There was no one to see.
Forty-two minutes later, Suzaku stood, thoroughly armored in Zero's garb, at the Alabaster Gate. He was too well trained to rue the layered, dark uniform, made oppressive by the late July sun – he'd tolerated far worse. This particular lacy, black wrought-iron gate was reserved for family and close friends of the crown, intimidatingly tall and topped with spikes that appeared quaint, but were edged sharp enough to discourage a blithe climb over. If that didn't work, the outrageously thorough and vicious security system worked overtime to keep the palace and grounds safe. Totaling over eighty acres, the property was extensive, the buildings varied and massive, as per the Britannian imperial norm. Built in 1894 as a getaway for the Emperor's favorite consort, Taliesin Palace had long acted as a summer retreat when the heat of the palace at Pendragon drove its occupants to cooler climes.
When the Pendragon Imperial Palace evaporated under the god hand of a F.L.E.I.J.A., however, Lelouch had been forced to relocate the capital. Settled against the eastern flank of the forested spine of the continent, Aurelius was naturally protected and intrinsically secure. Taliesin Palace was already considered a royal symbol to the people, and it was the obvious choice. Now, it was the seat of the Britannian Empire; Nunnally's home, her sanctuary. And Suzaku's duty was to keep it, and her, safe.
At the moment, however, he was acting on his vow of obedience, away from his Empress's side. The gates swung silently open on well-oiled hinges, and Suzaku felt the rush of nerves cascade over his skin, the back of his neck prickling as a sleek town car pulled in, the windows deeply tinted and the black paint glossy enough to sear unprotected eyes.
A staff member approached to open the car door, and Aurora stepped out, the tilt of her head betraying the calculating sweep of her eyes as she took in her surroundings and the looming palace. And finally, him. Suzaku grit his teeth, bereft of breath and yearning with a ferocity that seemed to ring from the core of his bones.
She looked every inch the part of the noblewoman she played, no surprise. Expertly tailored black slacks were paired with a bright cobalt blazer, a filmy ivory blouse softening the severely perfect cut of the jacket. Her hair was tamed back in an elegant French twist, her eyes shaded by amber sunglasses. As she walked towards him, the click of her fierce black heels on ivory Venetian tiles the only sound breaking the silence, he caught the twinkle of diamonds dangling from her ears. They had to be collectively at least five karats each, and he had no doubt they were real.
Remembering his role with a well-disguised start as she came close enough for him to see the intricate lights and streaks to her hair, achingly familiar, Suzaku placed a gloved hand over his heart, bowing slightly before straightening and speaking in a tone he kept ruthlessly modulated.
"Good morning, Lady Simmons. I hope your trip was pleasant. Allow me to welcome you to Taliesin Palace." The cool, impersonal words tasted like ash in his mouth. She gazed at him, and he could make out only the suggestion of her eyes behind the lenses. Finally, Aurora tipped her head back, her attention trailing over the crenulations and fanciful towers.
"It's as lovely as I remember," she murmured, and Suzaku had to remind himself not to be transfixed by the smooth column of her neck, even if the eye was drawn by the fiery, bejeweled strand of platinum that circled it, culminating in an elegant cluster of diamonds that sparkled with a savage brightness, nestled in the hollow of her throat like bristling twists of cold fire.
It had been nearly fifteen years since Aurora had walked over the pale ground of Taliesin Palace. But despite her nostalgic interest, the entirety of her attention was fixed on the masked figure before her. He was like the worst kind of lie – one you knew had a core of truth. Which is what made it, dangerously, all the more effective.
She'd come to know the slope of Suzaku's shoulders, the angle of his hands, the habitual distance he planted his feet, in the three months of tight proximity. And it was all there, buried under the disguise of Zero, the anti-identity. He wasn't the same as the Zero the world had known from the Rebellion – anyone paying a little attention could see that. But it didn't really matter.
Especially when he spoke with Zero's distinctive voice.
She'd nearly stumbled at the first words she heard echoing across the plaza, every speech and command and declaration that had rung out over the globe scorching through her brain, making her ankles momentarily wobble. It was like a hammer strike – hearing Suzaku's words and tone with Lelouch's voice, certainly an effect achieved by his technologically advanced mask. Her throat clamped shut, and Aurora desperately cleared it before she made a fool of herself. Neither of them were interested in misty inanities. But before she could say anything, Suzaku – Zero – continued.
"Please, follow me. Her Majesty will be joining us in the Violet Parlor." He angled slightly with a hand gracefully gesturing towards the palace, a courtly maneuver of invitation without relinquishing directional control. It was the sort of thing a noble was trained in before adolescence, and something Suzaku had no doubt been forced to pick up along the way since taking on this particular mantle. Few ruling families still perpetuated manners so elegantly passive aggressive. Aurora only recognized it because she too had once been an imposter working desperately to catch up, a chameleon having to learn its colors only after it had entered the jungle, lethal in all its elusive intricacies.
As another successful veteran of those particular political waters, Aurora nodded regally in acceptance, removing her sunglasses and tucking them into an internal jacket pocket once they stepped into the cool, quiet interior of the palace. The air smelled of wood polish and lilies, and the antique wallpaper faintly glittered with gilt. The staff was impeccably trained, melting away once she tilted her head in subtle dismissal. Staying close to her escort's heels, Aurora catalogued doors and windows as they passed through the labyrinthine halls, mentally marking exits and choke points. Part of her appreciated the stunning beauty; too much of her was extremely aware of the risk she was taking for sentimentality, the danger she was knowingly exposing herself to simply because her baby sister had asked.
It was possible for Aurora to admit to herself, though, away from Kendra and Chandler's concerned gazes, out of sight from the plate of dark glass of Zero's mask that made one feel as if you were staring at something alien, that her motives weren't entirely pure. She'd come for Nunnally, yes. She would never had risked it otherwise.
But she'd come for Suzaku, too.
Knowing the answers to some of those lingering concerns, though, wasn't as easy as she'd lulled herself into believing. He was alive – one question answered. But with the wall of a fictional monolith between them, finding out anything more would take some creativity, and time she simply didn't have. Aurora was meticulously working her way through her options when they entered the elevator. Part of her shook her head, while the rest was far from surprised. The place was, after all, massive – five stories tall, at least. And with the Empress confined to a wheelchair, the grand, sweeping staircases were no longer sufficient.
The smallest lurch, then the hum of cables cycling as they were drawn upward. The human silence, however, was deafening. Finally, Aurora couldn't take it anymore.
"How are you?" she murmured, glancing over out of the corner of her eye, unsure how deep Suzaku's protections of his identity ran in what was effectively his own home. Her concerns were resoundingly resolved when he raised his hand and removed his mask, lowering his face guard as he turned his head to meet her eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked, and Aurora's heart dipped.
"Fine. You?"
Oh, she knew that answer, the shallow deflection and succinct redirection. Knew achingly what it really meant, the vastness of what Suzaku wasn't saying – and he knew it, too. But now hardly seemed the time or place to address what he wasn't telling her, what he refused to admit. So she said the only thing she could.
"Fine."
In the weighted quiet that fell, Aurora took Suzaku's measure, hurt creeping in at what was there, and what was gone. He'd lost weight – his cheekbones were sharp again, his eyes huge in their sockets. Not gaunt, but it didn't take much to throw him off his feed. The guy could be as finicky as a Thoroughbred, battling that monstrous metabolism and a busy, difficult mind. His summer color, that beautiful bronze, was already fading. The shadows under his eyes were a delicate lilac instead of the starkly bruised purple they'd been back in April; his hair was mussed, but thick and healthy. It was impossible to know if he was using again, but she stubbornly clung to the hope that he was still clean. Suzaku's hands and eyes were steady, and his shoulders still maintained the muscled breadth he'd regained. Those eyes, the ones that haunted the quiet corners of Aurora's mind, were hard to read. Whatever lurked behind them was too well shielded to be extracted with a simple glance. Still, in that long, quiet moment, Aurora wanted nothing more in the world than to draw him to her, to reassure herself with the beat of his heart under her hand.
But too much stood between them; time, danger, politics, truths, lies. Empires.
A kiss.
Suzaku had always known that beauty was a Britannian royalty trait. There was something about the way a royal family member's face was formed that was predictably lovely, even striking.
Stunning.
The part she now played was another facet of the gemstone that was Aurora Sterling, another hue in her palette of paints to create the shades of whatever mask she wanted. This particular part was the princess, the life she could have led, had Fate dealt a slightly less cruel hand. It was either an inherent genius, or George Hampden had been an exquisite teacher; it was so easy to believe that Amelia Simmons, smelling softly of Chanel and casually wearing a fortune in diamonds for a brief family visit, was a child of the Crown's bloodline.
Under the trappings of a fake name and cover story, though, was the undeniable truth that Aurora's blood ran rich with the lineage of kings and emperors, traitors and titans. The irony of her cover was how closely it sheered to the truth. Her youth had been dedicated to making that the case for every part she played, every mantle she chose to shoulder. It made her unspeakably dangerous, and more than a little brilliant.
And it was killing him, being this close. Seeing, but not touching. Hearing, but not feeling. His instincts couldn't care less about the political intricacies of the layers to Aurora's identities. Suzaku wanted – needed – to protect her, to keep her safe. Now this close again, it was something he could effectively do. And his bones hummed with the urge to never let her go again. His mouth trembled open, likely to say sometime vulnerable and damning – he couldn't actually be sure.
With a rigid mental jerk, Suzaku reined himself in like a hard rider on an unruly horse, his teeth clicking together just as Aurora turned her head towards him. A few more yanks had his emotions firmly bridled, eyes forward and glazing slightly as long-instilled discipline took over. His proverbial gums may bleed a little, but he had a responsibility to honor, first and foremost. He didn't deserve the sort of emotional connection his heart was pounding for.
Not anymore.
Aurora hadn't noticed when the stylish arrow came to a stop on the number four above the door. She was instead spellbound, watching silently as Suzaku disappeared beneath the face guard and mask, shuttering away everything that made him unique from his predecessor.
It was… awful.
She obediently followed as he stepped out of the elevator, the artwork and furnishings familiar in their opulence as they strode down the hall for the parlor that was their destination. Aurora vaguely remembered it, a purple room fogged in her memories by time. As she stepped inside per Suzaku's polite gesture, the cobwebs were abruptly gusted clear.
The furnishings were all some shade of purple or gray, the plum curtains stately against the lavender and pewter striped wallpaper. As she stepped onto the dove gray Aubusson rug, garnished with large violets, Aurora suddenly remembered something from a very long time ago – the royal children gathered round one of their many nannies, a pretty young thing with dark eyes and a lovely voice. She'd read to the younger children, Schneizel brooding at the window, Clovis doodling in one of his countless sketchpads, Odysseus occupying himself with a huge puzzle spread out over one of the side tables. Aurora, Nunnally, and Euphemia tumbled together like puppies on that very rug, a comforting fire crackling in the hearth of near-black marble. Lelouch and Cornelia, as the elder siblings, had deemed themselves too dignified to pile in as well, and had compromised by sitting on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, close by.
Aurora blinked, and the memory faded – sunlight reigned, the fireplace was cold, and so many of those siblings were far beyond her reach. All but one. And she was beginning to realize that she wasn't nearly as ready for this meeting as she'd believed.
Zero stepped out into the hall briefly, trying to alert Nunnally that Aurora had arrived. When it failed to connect, it was safe to assume that the meeting with the South African consulate had run long. Stepping back into the room and shutting the door behind him as he finished the text to the Empress, Suzaku found himself at a little of a loss as to what he should do until Nunnally arrived. Tilting his head a little, he tried to read Aurora's profile, the set of her shoulders drawing his attention.
She was a little pale, a little stiff. As her eyes regained focus, returning from whatever internal journey she had just undertaken, Suzaku had an inkling of what she was experiencing. If he was right, then it was a terribly lonely thing to feel. He would know – he felt it often.
Setting out the jammer he carried in his waistcoat pocket, the green light blinking on at the push of a button, Suzaku removed his mask. He hadn't taken it on and off so many times in so short a span of time, well… ever. The risk was just unnecessary. But it felt so wrong, so fake, to face Aurora, to truly speak to her, as anything other than himself. Why bother lying to someone who already knew the truth?
As Suzaku approached her, he glanced down, noticing the way each of her index fingers restlessly rubbed against her thumbs. Looking back up at her face with furrowed brows and a little smile, he gently touched her elbow.
"Aurora, are you nervous?"
She jerked a little under the contact, then looked as if she was going to toss out a flippant denial. But when their eyes met, she shut her mouth again, glancing down with a small shrug.
"A little. The last time I saw Nunnally, she was just my younger sister with poofy hair and a gap in her baby teeth. It's been over ten years, and now she's the Empress of Britannia. And I'm not exactly the ideal prodigal sister returned."
"You're going to impress her," Suzaku said firmly. She looked at him with an arched brow.
"And how do you know?"
"You always impress me," he returned softly. Feeling a little satisfied at the shocked look on Aurora's face, considering the number of times her simple statements of faith or solemn compliments had floored him in Ireland, Suzaku heard the quiet voices and hushed rolling that signaled Nunnally's approach. Tugging the face guard up over his jaw and mouth, he raised Zero's mask to his face. He missed the sorrow and regret that flashed in Aurora's eyes as it clicked into place; he probably wouldn't have understood it, anyway.
Nunnally entered, and not alone. Just behind her stood a young man in elegant court dress, his sandy hair defiant of taming and his hazel eyes gentle and curious. If Aurora had to guess, she would put him at no more than seventeen, the same age as the Empress. That was how old Lelouch and Suzaku had been at the beginning of the Rebellion. It was astonishing how young the boy looked. Had Suzaku looked that painfully fresh and innocent before the revolution had started, too? It made Aurora feel old, and sad.
"Your Majesty, may I introduce Aurora Sterling. Aurora, Her Majesty Nunnally vi Britannia, the one hundredth Empress of the Britannian Empire, and her personal Knight, Tritus Phillips."
Placing her hand over her heart, Aurora bowed in a copy of Zero's earlier greeting. She felt too awkward and foolish to even attempt a curtsy, although she knew how quite well. Not to mention, it would look ridiculous in her slacks.
"Your Majesty," she acknowledged in a low murmur. Looking up, she caught Nunnally's grin.
"The last time we talked, you called me Naly."
Feeling her taut face crack with a smile, Aurora knelt down by Nunnally, resting her fingers very gently on the back of the young empress's hand.
"We all had different names for you. But Lelouch was the only one who always called you by your full name." She all but felt Tritus and Suzaku stiffen at the mention of the Demon Emperor's name. Nunnally merely tilted her head consideringly.
"I suppose that while you were caring for him, you would find out." The Empress turned her hand over, and gripped Aurora's, understanding things that couldn't, perhaps shouldn't, be explained.
"Pretty inevitable," she agreed quietly. Flicking her eyes up, Aurora glanced at the Knights. Both of their shoulders were rigid as steel, one of Suzaku's fists clenched while Tritus's brow was deeply creased.
"I hope you're doing well," Nunnally said gently, effectively shattering the tension.
"Well enough. And you. You look positively gorgeous."
It was true. Her gown of navy blue and white silk decorated with gold filigree was stunning, and regal. A perfect dress for a monarch, the small gold crown perched in her curls a subtle statement as to her power. Nunnally giggled, and Aurora got her first full glimpse of the girl she'd known in her youth.
"Oh, hush. You're just as beautiful as ever. And so tall. I think you look a bit like Schneizel now that you've grown into your eyes."
Aurora rolled those eyes good-naturedly as she stood, following Nunnally as she turned her chair and left the room, Suzaku and Tritus lurking after them from a distance that she supposed they thought constituted privacy.
"You only say that because I'm tall and blond. Facially, I most resemble Cornelia."
"I suppose you're right. But I haven't seen Cornelia in a long time. She married her Knight Guilford, you know."
Aurora found herself enjoying the conversation as she flashed a half smile. But it was strange. Nunnally was so… adult.
"No surprise there. Where did they end up settling?"
"Australia, for now. That's where Tritus is from." Nunnally smiled over her shoulder at the young man marching behind her, who looked a bit taken aback now that the attention had landed squarely on him.
"My lord," Aurora said with a small bow.
"Please, milady. You are the Empress's sister, and a princess. It is I who should bow to you," he said quickly, bobbing his head in an adorably flustered manner. God, had she ever been that young? Aurora laughed gently.
"Here now, Sir Tritus. As I told… Zero, the only thing that warrants my status as a princess is an accident of blood. In every other regard, I am a commoner at best."
As Tritus smiled at her cautiously, Aurora almost kicked herself. The pause had been microscopic, but she'd almost said "Suzaku" instead of "Zero." An amateurish mistake. She'd been trained better than that.
Recovering smoothly, Aurora returned her attention to her half-sister.
"Now then, tell me how the meeting went. I hear Britannia's trade with the South African Alliance is poised to take off, should certain mining and foresting restrictions be met."
"Well enough, I suppose. Britannia doesn't necessarily need those rights, but a country, or an empire, is always stabilized by an influx of resources, especially natural ones. And I want nothing more than a stable, prosperous empire."
Intrigued, Aurora listened to her sister knowledgeably, and ruthlessly, pick apart the finer points of the treaty they'd been discussing today. It was especially entertaining to hear the occasional cutthroat tendency cooed in Nunnally's exceedingly soft, gentle voice. Considering it was the fourth draft, the empress seemed hopeful that they would find a resolution soon, in a manner that would allow both parties to benefit.
As they meandered downstairs before wandering out into the gardens, Aurora took the measure of the woman her sister was becoming. Nunnally was someone incredibly easy to make assumptions about – only a fool allowed them to stand upon further inspection. Delicacy was an inherent part of her, but it was truly only physical. When it came to her mind and spirit, the empress was absolutely deserving of the crown she wore and the legacy she fought hard to live up to. She was, without a doubt, her brother's sister.
"I've been meaning to ask," Aurora mentioned casually as they strolled by a splash of crimson carnations, "how did you know who to call?"
While Kendra had been answering Suzaku's questions about his hearing, Chandler had summoned Aurora into his office, flummoxed to offer the phone with the Empress of Britannia on the other end of the line. Nunnally smiled, suddenly inspecting the flowers with elegant intensity.
"This may surprise you, but I do remember Mr. Andrews. Of course a story of a noble's exile from his family caught my attention – similar experience, and all that. I've known about Mr. Andrews' work in England for some time, and, from what I've heard from a… a mutual friend, it wasn't difficult to guess that London was your base." At Nunnally's words, Aurora felt her brows lift. That was… not what she expected.
She hadn't expected her soft baby sister to affect such an experienced tone, nor had she expected Suzaku to speak openly about their time together. She was further surprised when Nunnally read the expressions on her face as if she'd spoken aloud. Few were able to manage that, and she wasn't being particularly careless with what she manifested on her face at the moment.
"No, he didn't tell me," she said with a soft smirk. "He didn't have to. I have my sources." What Nunnally didn't tell her sister – who was so rarely discomfited much like their late elder brother, but appeared entertainingly so now – was that she'd first connected that particular English dot when she'd caught a glimpse of one of Suzaku's sketches, a beautiful piece of a man that strongly resembled Chandler Andrews holding hands with a pretty dark-haired woman with glasses and a smoky smile. Paired with the fact that Suzaku's last point of contact before his disappearance had been in London, Mr. Andrews would have at least been able to provide some direction. Luck had been on Nunnally's side; Aurora lived in Chandler's house.
Nunnally watched out of the corner of her eye as her sister, so tall and beautiful and proud, rocked back a little, tucking her hands into her trouser pockets as a rueful smile flickered over her face. She beckoned, and Aurora obediently knelt, the two of them painting an charming picture of enthroned empress and poignant princess. With express gentleness, Nunnally settled the flower into the upsweep of her sister's golden hair, smiling a little at the bright splash of crimson.
"It suits you," she murmured as Aurora stood. It was true – as with most natural blondes, Aurora wore color well, whether it be her preferred blue or the sizzling red flower in her hair. She smiled at the compliment, running her fingertips over delicate petals as they resumed their meandering stroll.
But as Aurora told a few of the sillier stories from Ban's early years to her chuckling sister, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Out of habit, she glanced over, the sight of Prince Schneizel in all his blond, raptor-eyed glory five yards away killing her words like a punch to the voice box. He appeared to be in deep, serious discussion with several nobles, well-fed, overbred men who had jumped into a conversation with a shark with apparently casual disregard for their safety.
Just the sight of him nearly had Aurora squeaking in fear like a frightened mouse – like a frightened child. Noticing her sudden silence, Nunnally glanced over her shoulder at her gorgeous, lethal half-brother. Aurora sensed when Suzaku stepped closer, his presence a warm, stalwart fire at her back; no doubt Zero was long ago inured to the muzzled threat that was Schneizel el Britannia.
Whatever Schneizel's business was, it concluded smoothly. As soon as the two men walked away, the prince's eyes, pale as the petals of a saffron flower, tracked slowly – inexorably – to their small party. When their gazes met, Aurora was six years old again, and embarrassingly outmatched and outclassed. The royal siblings were hard enough to keep up with as it was, but Schneizel had always been in a class all his own.
As had Lelouch.
He looked at her, and he identified exactly who she was – Aurora could see the recognition glimmer in his eerily pale eyes. Those eyes moved over the four of them in calculating sweeps, and he comprehended the entire scenario from a distance, without a word being spoken. When his gaze returned to Aurora, she made a sincere effort to stand tall, to meet his piercing gaze like an adult, not some terrified, star-struck child.
The seconds dragged, and it felt as if the prince was peeling back layers of protective armor to peer at her soul. Still, hands faintly shaking, Aurora stood fast under his perusal. Finally, he angled his head, then slowly dipped his chin. Mirroring the gesture, she watched mutely as Schneizel straightened, glanced over them all one final time, then turned to saunter away.
She practically deflated as he disappeared, the gentle touch of Nunnally's fingertips at her wrist nearly making her gasp and flinch. Instead, Aurora nervously chuckled, trying to ease the cloud of tension blooming around them. The whispered confession slipped out, though, before she could quite control it.
"He was the only sibling I was ever truly afraid of." Speaking louder and scrambling to regain her confidence by the second, she continued, "And he still intimidates the hell out of me."
"Me too," came the response, murmured feelingly. Aurora, Nunnally, and Suzaku turned, eyeing Tritus with surprised interest. The knight colored slightly at his slip, then straightened his shoulders, hazel eyes glittering like mica with defiant honesty.
"Well, he does. Like when he looks at you with those eyes as if you're a rat in a maze, and he's the scientist watching to see how fast you wriggle through."
The three stared at him for a long moment before glancing at each other. Just when fear began to flicker through that patina of certainty on the young man's face, the trio burst into laughter. Nunnally looked a little surprised when Suzaku stepped forward, clapping a companionable hand to the younger man's shoulder.
"Don't worry – you'll get used to it."
Smiling and trying to glance at her watch covertly, Aurora looked up and met her sister's huge, penetrating eyes.
"How much time do we have?" the empress asked, just loudly enough that the knights heard her, their talk dying as they waited for her answer. Aurora dredged up a smile from somewhere that felt a little sticky and sore.
"Enough. Let's head back inside."
As the two men turned to lead the way back in, Aurora rested her fingertips on Nunnally's shoulder, applying just enough pressure to slow her down, establishing a growing gap between them and the knights.
"I have to ask you something," she said, the words carried on her breath with a mere suggestion of sound as she intentionally dawdled. "And I hope you'll forgive me for asking this."
"I've forgiven far worse things than a question," Nunnally replied quietly with a cynical chuckle.
"What's more important: the man," Aurora asked, her eyes pinned to the broad shoulders cloaked in black disappearing around the corner of the hedges, "or the mission?"
Looking back at Nunnally, Aurora swallowed back the rough salt of tears – she knew a doomed stand for what it was, even as she made it. Didn't mean she would stop it, though. Nunnally appeared thoughtful, but not for nearly long enough to assuage Aurora's concerns.
"I suppose it depends on the man, and the mission. You have to understand, Aurora, that my choices don't just affect me – they affect my family, my empire, even the world at large." Her tone seemed to be lacking a depth of feeling that caused alarm to tingle along Aurora's nerves.
"You still have a choice." It was patently inappropriate, having the temerity to remind a ruler of such a thing. But her old training couldn't quite quell the older instincts of sisterhood.
"I do," Nunnally replied with a blithe tone and a single nod of her head. "Lelouch had choices, too. Hundreds of them in the beginning, and with every one he made, the list shortened, the scope narrowed. Until he was left with two in the end: live damned, or die redeemed. I'll never forgive him for what he did, but I'm unspeakably proud of the choice he made. How could I undo all of that, simply for the sake of personal sentiment?"
"But it's Suzaku," Aurora breathed, worlds of pain in those words. Nunnally mimicked her volume, but the steel frame of her words held up the thick fabric of her royal responsibility.
"He's not just Suzaku, not anymore – he and Lelouch saw to that. Don't you think it breaks my heart, seeing what he's become, when I so loved who he was? But this is my last inheritance from my brother. It's not just a matter of my choosing to maintain the status quo. I don't think I have to right to dissolve the gambit so many died to build."
It was a blow, of course – guilt lance through Aurora even as she tried to rationalize the animal-like fear that was building inside her. It was impossible to say why it suddenly felt so necessary to take Suzaku back to a place he'd be safe. Even if it was kissing cousin to a war zone.
"Besides, you know him – honestly, do you think he'd walk away, even if I gave him the choice?"
There was, of course, that. Aurora had to concede that point. But she still wasn't certain exactly how the modern Nunnally felt about the modern Suzaku.
"Doesn't it scare you?" Because the thought of him staying here sure as hell scared Aurora. Nunnally looked away, and, for a brief moment, she saw the armor crack, revealing the young woman trying desperately to be equal to the insurmountable task left to her.
"It terrifies me, Aurora," she whispered, and, for the first time, she sounded her age. Quickly, though, Nunnally recovered her calm poise. "But what can I do, realistically? I'd have to exile him to free him, and I truly believe it would break him. Haven't you noticed? He's a bit stubborn."
Aurora had to laugh – what else could she do, but chuckle drily at the character trait of Suzaku's she too had done battle with.
"Yes, I've noticed he can be astoundingly obstinate."
Nunnally laughed softly.
"Truer words."
Tritus and Suzaku came back around the corner, finally noticing the distance that had grown between them. Aurora and Nunnally deflected their questions, speeding up to avoid suspicion. After a few moments, Nunnally continued under her breath. "So to answer your question, I value the man and the mission, because they're completely tangled together at this point. All we can do is move forward from here." Aurora was familiar with the feeling of losing; her repeated exposure to it had forced her to learn some dignity in the face of it. And this time, she truly meant it.
"I hope you can forgive me for asking that question."
"I hope you can forgive me for giving that answer."
Nunnally's fingers curled through Aurora's, and they returned to the cool, perfumed halls of the palace, hands clasped as they ran out of time.
"Thank you," the Empress murmured. "For taking care of him."
Hugging her sister quickly, Aurora pressed a kiss to her hair, remembering the last time she'd hugged this sister in the Violet Parlor.
"Same to you. Blessed be, Naly." She didn't want to linger here – Aurora was already trying to acclimatize to the grief of saying goodbye to a sister it would realistically be very difficult to see again. Much as he had escorted her inside without comment, Suzaku led the way out in silence.
When they found themselves back in the elevator, Aurora pressed the emergency stop button when they were between floors two and three. As the lights dimmed and the elevator bumped to a stop, she heaved a breath, certain that she shouldn't do what she was about to do. Coming to terms with the fact that she was about to do it anyway.
Suzaku was staring at her, the lights reflecting oddly on the glass plate of the mask. It was a bittersweet sort of hurt to realize that she knew the exact moment he was about to say something, from the tiny tilt of his head and the shift in his shoulders. Because she was certain she'd lose her mind if she heard him speak in Lelouch's voice one more time, Aurora rushed out her words to beat him to it.
"Do me a favor; can you take the mask off? I have a question for you, and I don't want to ask it to the persona of my dead brother." Aurora would have bet serious money that his brow quirked at that last statement, but Suzaku held his diplomatic silence, instead simply reaching up to release the mechanism and draw down his face guard. Her heart ached at the sight of him, becoming even more swollen and bruised when he spoke, and it was his voice.
"What is it?"
Aurora didn't usually consider herself a sore loser, and she could admit that it was childish to keep asking the same question to different people, hoping she would get a different answer. All that could go to hell, though; she had to give this one last shot. For him. And for her.
"Will you come back with me?"
When surprise, and something more, leapt into his eyes, Aurora knew she'd misstepped. But there were some bridges you crossed, even as you burned it.
"I know all your reasons for staying – trust me, I do – but I can't walk away without asking you one last time. Please, Suzaku. It scares me, the thought of leaving you here. Every time that mask goes on, I'm afraid another piece of you is being worn away. Soon, there'll be nothing left."
The same hand that had rested on Tritus' shoulder settled gently on hers, and Aurora's heart cracked like cheap porcelain.
"You know you're the only reason there's anything left at all."
Aurora grit her teeth, unspeakably angry and moved at Suzaku's almost saint-like acceptance and grace.
"Which is why I'm pissed at the thought of you staying here. Come back, make a new life for yourself, seize your second chance. I could help you. You could be happy." Too close to the truth, too vulnerable to bear. The same feeling from that day at the edge of the cliff careened through her, and Aurora couldn't stop herself when she reached for him, her desperate hand forcibly gentled as it grasped his upper arm, her right palm cradling where so much damage had been done. Who could say who stepped in, closing the gap between them down to warm breaths and climbing tensions, but in this half-light of almosts and maybes, it didn't seem to matter.
"Not when I'd have to live with all I turned my back on. Maybe I am losing pieces of myself here, but if I left with you, I'd be leaving too much of myself behind to survive." A few realignment of muscles, and they were home, arms wrapped around each other, swaying in the shadows. "I hope you know how much it means that I want to say yes, but how important it is that I say no," he spoke softly next to her ear, and Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, trying to navigate her way to an acceptance that would allow her to survive.
"I know. I know, and I so sorry for asking. But I had to try."
"I know," Suzaku said with a gentle, almost smiling understanding that nearly made Aurora twist her hands into his cloak like chains and scream. "I'm sorry for disappointing you."
She just shook her head, slowly opening her eyes as opportunity closed one final door.
"You didn't. Dammit, Suzaku, you've never disappointed me."
They pulled away from each other, Suzaku tentatively reaching up to brush a few strands of hair out of her eyes before stepping away. Aurora gazed at him hungrily as he leaned over to switch the elevator back on, painstakingly reassembling the shield of her control as she mentally mapped out his face, determined to remember every detail.
A strong, sharp jaw, exquisite cheekbones, straight nose, agile brows. And those big, green eyes. She memorized Suzaku's face as he gazed at her for a moment before pulling up the face guard and raising Zero's mask, replacing it with deft movements. This would very likely be the last time she'd ever see Suzaku Kururugi's face. At the thought, something in her shattered, but not one of the muscles in her face so much as trembled.
As the elevator hummed to a halt and they departed, Zero escorted Amelia Simmons from the Britannian palace. They walked in silence, the sense of each other's presence familiar but fleeting. Once they reached the promenade of the Alabaster Gate, she bowed, and he nodded, without so much as a word before she turned away.
As Suzaku watched Aurora walk away, her shoulders straight and her stride long, the rich coil of her hair glinting in the late summer sun, he felt a stab of something. He couldn't identify much of it; what he did understand was envy.
She could walk away.
From Britannia, from Nunnally. From him.
And he had to stay.
He hadn't thought it would be so hard to let her go.
Was this what she had felt when she'd awoken to find him gone that morning in Ireland? He allowed himself to feel the regret he'd refused till now. She hadn't deserved this. Knowing that she'd hate the words, especially in Lelouch's voice, he whispered his apologies in his head. For leaving her, and letting her leave now. And, after a moment, his goodbyes. Spinning slowly on his heel, watching her until she disappeared in the town car and it pulled away, Suzaku walked back into the palace of his duty and destiny.
His prison.
*Peeks out from behind a tree and furtively waves*
Hey, guys. Remember me?
What can I say, except shit's been… real. My life has undergone a complete one eighty – the mid-twenties college drop-out member of the work force is now approaching the end of her first semester in her journey to becoming a nurse, just as she's approaching the end of her twenties.
Things have been up, down, sideways, and just about every degree in between. Glaringly, I have not been writing. Bad sign. Across the board halt in production never spells good things for my mental health.
Hopefully, the posting of this chapter, which has languished, open and unfinished, for over a year now, is a sign that I'm on the mend.
To those of you who've stuck around during this icky dry spell – you're fucking awesome.
To those of you new to the game – welcome to the shit show.
I have no idea what the future holds. The only thing I can promise is this story is far from done.
Hope you like it!
Love, Tango