To Lelouch it felt wrong somehow, what he planned to do. He couldn't explain why. It was a logical solution. A practical solution. It wasn't always nefarious, he told himself.

It could be, certainly. He would never forgive himself for so thoughtlessly acting ten years ago. He had acted without truly thinking, fell into patterns of action he used during the Black Rebellion. The people he didn't know, they were just pawns to be used. And with that reckless disregard for the people around him he stole the mind of someone his mother deeply cared for. It was only right he accept caring for Sara in turn, make the best of the mistake he had made back then. To think his mother had made the offer mere days before–

His eyes closed, finding it difficult to look at her. Lain in bed, her hands clasped over her chest, she looked like she was in repose. She wasn't dead. It wasn't happening again. No deception, no lies, no decades old conspiracy to remake the world. Just... A terrible twist of fate. Somehow that made it seem all the more cruel. No rhyme or reason, just a tragedy no one could predict and no one could set right.

Or so all of the specialists said. Lelouch wasn't quite so ready to give up. Geass. It wasn't always nefarious. It could be used for good.

He rose from his chair, leaned over his mother, eyes opening as his finger gently pulled at her eyelid. Her eye, it stared upwards at the ceiling, showing no reaction to her surroundings, to him. Something inside him clenched, a worm of doubt crawling inside his mind but he had to try.

"Mother," he whispered, a crane glyph forming in his eye as he stared directly into hers, "Wake up." No reaction. No connection. "Please," he begged, his voice rising, cracking, he had a family again! A real one! A little brother who shone like the sun, a father who was cold but cared in his own way, a mother with, with so much love in her heart! "Please wake up..."

...

He released her. Staggered backwards and fell into his chair. His head dropped into his hands as he released a few choked sobs that turned into sorrowful laughter. Of course. Of course it wouldn't work. The connection between souls was a two-way street. The target had to see into his eyes as he saw into theirs. And Misla Bael... Who knew what she was seeing as she dreamed for days on end, but it wasn't Lelouch.

"What are you doing?"

Lelouch quickly wiped at his eyes and nose, a futile attempt to hide his despair. Sairaorg didn't need to see him like this. He needed to be the strong big brother, just like he was for Nunnally.

Even so, Sairaorg wasn't dense enough to miss the signs. He was more than familiar, only not looking the same for having run out of tears to shed. He had been glad Lelouch was there when he was so inconsolable. And for Kuisha when she had visited to offer her condolences. All the while Lelouch had kept his sorrow bottled up. Even when Rias, Sona and Seekvaira had visited, he had smiled sadly but told them he would be alright. Worse, when Zephyrdor had visited for the same reason the elder Bael son turned it around, apologising for what happened the last time they met.

Lelouch had put up a wall. A strong front. And Sairaorg had just seen it break. And to think, he had begun to believe Lelouch just didn't care as much.

"I was just... Thinking," Lelouch finally gave his less than useful answer. He was always thinking.

"Thinking what?" Sairaorg pressed.

The elder brother rose from his seat, rubbing at his reddened eyes one last time. "Just... How needlessly cruel fate can be sometimes," he answered, walking past his younger brother, offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he passed. Even then he was determined to be the strong one.

But Sairaorg had had enough of that. He knew what he saw when he entered the room, what he heard. The image of his amazing big brother being unmoveable and untouchable, it was thoroughly broken as he saw him plead for their mother to come back. He grabbed his elder but slightly smaller brother and pulled him into a hug whether he liked it or not. "You can't keep doing this, Lulu. Don't be like Father. We're in this together, remember?"

The instinct was there, to be the strong one like he always had to be in his past life. The one that shouldered all of the pain so others didn't have to. But even if he could fight off his brother, the constant burden had worn him down. In that moment, he let it go. Just a little. Just enough. It was a relief. One he hadn't known he needed. He didn't need to be the unshakeable rock in this life. He had people he could rely on.

And as he realised that, he came to a decision. Heaving a relieved sigh, he pulled away from his brother to wipe away the evidence of his broken composure once again. "I don't like that you're bigger than me now, you know."

"You'll have to get used to it!" Sairaorg replied, puffing out his chest with pride.

Lelouch let out a watery laugh, before restoring his composure. "I'm... I'm not giving up. I'm going to go visit Zekram in a couple of days." He steeled himself, firmed his resolve. "I would appreciate it if you would come with me."

-(-)-

The drive to Zekram's home was a fairly tense one. Lelouch had to make it clear more than once that Sairaorg was to do his level best to stay controlled. There was a good chance this meeting would be difficult. They had prepared, The elder brother had done his best to coach the younger, outline the talking points, arguments, to hold firm their positions.

Ana wrapped her arms around her master's neck, whispering, "Be careful," before retreating back into the car. Anastasia and Sara didn't wait to be shown to the guest house, instead dropping off the Bael siblings before moving along.

Once again Mary was there at the door waiting for them. "Young master Lelouch," she greeted the elder with a shallow bow, "Master Zekram is awaiting you in the lounge. Do you require an escort?"

"No thank you, we'll be fine. I remember the way," Lelouch assured her.

The once Queen of England's eyes flicked to the muscular figure of Sairaorg for barely an instant. But with Lelouch looking for just such a tell, he was fully aware of what it meant. "Understood. I shall be along shortly with refreshments. Is there anything you would prefer?"

"Your exquisite coffee would be a wonderful pick-me-up after the journey. Sairaorg?"

"Coffee sounds good."

The severe woman sniffed not quite derisively. "Very well. I shall be along shortly," she said, offering another short bow before retreating backward towards the kitchens, only turning away from them once she left the foyer.

Lelouch's eye caught the way her hand rose to her ear just before she disappeared around the corner. "Come on," he beckoned his brother, "He already knows we're coming."

Sure enough, as the moved from the foyer to the west wing into the lounge, Zekram was on his feet ready to greet them. "Well well, and here I was expecting only one of my descendants to pay me a visit today," the ancient devil spoke. His words didn't match his demeanour at all. He spoke as if it was unexpected but his demeanour made clear he was well aware. Lelouch was glad to have seen Mary's slip up or he might have jumped to absurd conclusions. "You boys have my sincerest condolences for what happened to your mother. The sleeping sickness is a terrible plague upon us, striking at us when we least expect it."

"Thank you," Sairaorg responded, sounding genuine. Lelouch was already glad for his brother being there. Sai didn't have a scheming bone in his body. His thanks was honest. Starting by accepting Zekram's pantomime sympathy was the better play, no matter how much it rankled. Lelouch nodded tightly in agreement.

"Please, sit," Zekram offered, taking his own seat in a comfortable armchair. The brothers took their own on a couch that sat perpendicular to Zekram. "So, Sairaorg. You certainly seem to be growing big and strong."

Seem to be, Lelouch repeated in his head. His little finger impatiently tapping against the outside of his knee beyond Zekram's sight, forcing himself to stay silent.

"I am," Sairaorg confirmed without guile, "I'm not gifted with power like Lulu. So I'm dedicating myself to finding my own strength."

Zekram nodded. "Quite admirable to do what one can despite their limitations."

Lelouch's breaths became slower as he forced himself to remain calm, doing his best to let Zekram's rather brazen insults (for him) pass.

Sairaorg shrugged. "Limits are for people who give up."

The elder brother looked at the younger in surprise. Sairaorg smiled at him reassuringly. He was fine. He knew full well what Zekram was saying. The thinly veiled insults. He just... Didn't care. Zekram was as close to calling him weak and crippled as the old man would ever get, and yet it didn't matter in the slightest. Because... Zekram and his opinions didn't matter at all to him. It wasn't important if Zekram thought he was weak, or crippled, or unworthy of their family name. Sairaorg would make himself worthy by sweat and blood. That was all there was to it.

Lelouch couldn't help it. He grinned, smirked at his little brother. So much effort he had gone to for the sake of protecting Sairaorg from people who would look down on him. All of it wasted. All of it pointless. His little brother was stronger than Lelouch ever gave him credit for and he felt a little ashamed of that miscalculation. It seemed on some level Zekram was right. He was so protective of his family he couldn't see how amazing they were.

Zekram's reaction was a much more sedate raising of his eyebrows. "Just so."

It was this scene Mary walked in on carrying a tea tray. Quickly distributing three cups of bespoke coffee, one for each Bael. She did not stay to attend them this time, disappearing from the room at a wave of Zekram's hand. "So," the old devil began as he took a sip of his own beverage. Iced coffee, unlike the other two. "I'm going to assume given the suddenness of this desire to see me after our previous meeting, this is not a social visit. And given the timing, the reason is obvious. So you might as well go ahead and ask."

Lelouch glanced to his brother once more in hopes of getting one last dose of his younger brother's fearless, doubtless courage. "We wish to find a cure for Mother," he answered.

"You and every other devil to see the sleeping sickness take someone."

"I know there are several pillar houses that fund research into the disease," Lelouch continued past the interruption. "I know they have done so for centuries, some for even longer. It isn't a problem that can be solved by simply throwing more resources at it. However," the heir blinked slowly, centring himself. "You once said to me there are things in this world that even you don't fully understand. Possibilities that the devils currently researching this disease would never consider, whether because of the difficulty in acquiring the resources to try, or simply for being too ludicrous to contemplate."

"I see," Zekram hummed, "So you wish for me to procure these things for you. And why should I?"

Sairaorg leaned forward to speak but Lelouch put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and shaking his head. Impassioned speeches were great for people who would listen. Zekram wasn't one of those people. As far as he was concerned, Misla Bael had served her purpose. She had produced an heir for the Bael, even if not a viable spare. If they wanted to get their mother back, they needed to have something to offer in return. Which... They did. Or rather, he did. Zekram simply didn't know it yet. "If you assist me in finding a cure for Mother... I'll work directly for you, for the Great King faction, and I'll keep an open mind as you try to convince me that your vision for our society isn't stagnant and self-destructive."

Zekram's mouth was open, ready to speak, likely to say that wasn't any kind of offer because Lelouch already did work for their faction, and for him. But then, his jaw clicked shut, he carefully placed his cup back on its saucer. A mild but noticeable tension filled the room as the old devil's eyebrows drew inward, his lips turned ever so slightly downward. "Pardon?"

"I will go along with the needs of the Great King faction, despite my severe misgivings concerning most of the things they stand for."

Zekram didn't miss referring to the faction their house headed as 'they'. "Well. That is quite the bullheaded approach to negotiations. Revealing a flaw I wasn't even aware of and providing a solution? Assuming there is in fact a flaw at all. Precisely what misgivings do you have?"

"Most of the ideals the Great King faction stand for are impractical for the current nature of devil society. They purport to reinforce our society through a top down approach, ensuring the strength, stability and prestige of the pillar houses which would theoretically allow for our rigid feudalist civilisation to continue on indefinitely."

"Theoretically," Zekram echoed with narrowed eyes.

"Theoretically," Lelouch repeated, nodding. "I can imagine the logic is based on the preferential treatment pillar houses receive when it comes to receiving evil pieces. Each child of a pillar house is effectively a high class devil by default. Each child of a pillar house is a King by default. As such, the pillar houses will be in charge despite the ballooning devil population thanks to reincarnated devils. However, there are three factors not taken into account."

"Oh?" Zekram uttered, irritation creeping through his calm facade by the slight sarcastic edge, "Enlighten me."

"First, pillar houses are satisfied with their positions of power. Those who inherit power are often the most blind to the sheer drive found in those who lack that power. Second, the nature of what a peerage represents. By all appearances, you used yours to collect toys. Your position affords you that luxury. But for most a strong King requires a strong peerage. Kings search high and low for the strongest beings they can turn into their servants. Now there are devil giants, youkai, dragons, legends and demigods. Now the assumed superiority of devils is not so certain. Not every pillar house power is as dominant as Bael destruction, Phenex flame or Belial worthlessness. And this leads us to the most dangerous facet of our changing society for the pillar houses."

Reaching into his pocket, Lelouch pulled out a king chess piece and placed it on the table. "Five hundred years ago, the Great King faction and the New Satan faction united for a specific purpose. A purpose that was fulfilled. A purpose that set a precedent." With the flick of a finger, he knocked over the chess piece. A fallen king. A toppled king.

Zekram took in the mild theatrics, stone-faced.

"You found the Old Satans to be poor leaders for devilkind. Something I certainly don't disagree with. But their removal, that has implications that can't be ignored. They were the strongest devil houses. Untouchable, only to be brought low when they were found wanting. And now we have our faction touting the superiority of pureblood devils, while the strongest devils speak in favour of progress. Of letting strength speak for itself."

Zekram held up a palm, "You've certainly thought this through," he said.

"I think everything through," Lelouch smirked. "I did have more points I wanted to raise. The strict limit on keeping only the current thirty-two pillars rather than elevating extra houses. Or even reincarnating half-devils from extinct houses to–"

"Enough," the old devil said firmly. "You believe you're ready to truly enter the political sphere? Is that what you're saying?"

The Bael heir frowned. That wasn't at all what he had been saying.

"Dealing with our allies, and our enemies, it isn't the same as the gladhanding you've been doing until now. There is more at stake than the prestige of the Bael. The future of our race lies on our shoulders, Lelouch. If you truly think you're ready to learn the why of our faction's existence... Then I agree to your terms."

"So... You'll help us help Mother, if I buy into our faction for now," Lelouch hedged, wanting to make sure he and his ancestor were on the same page.

"I will point you in the direction of the more outlandish possibilities, though with no guarantee any will work," Zekram clarified, "And in turn, you will work under me, willing to learn what truly puts our house above all others."

-(-)-

A/N: Okay. Twelve chapters in, thirteen to go before we're all caught up. So why not address a few things here that have cropped up a few times.

First, the easy one. Sara? She's an OC. Moving on.

Lelouch's peerage? Rooks Sara and Sairaorg, Bishop Anastasia. That's it.

Now for the thing people keep saying. That this isn't Lelouch anymore. That I ruined his character. No? Lelouch has always been calculating but passionate. The first inciting incident for canon was Lelouch yelling at Charles and making demands. Everything he did was fuelled by his innate drive. He would never have been as charismatic in his grandstanding if he didn't believe every word he spoke. So the idea that he would not act for the sake of someone who matters to him? Pfft, okay. That he would wait and do it quietly and diplomatically? Did you watch Code Geass? Even if the setting detail I included about devils being more innately passionate than humans, there's an argument to be made that human Lelouch wouldn't have done much different. He's learning the rules and one he learned specifically from the Phenex is big showy displays of power go over great with devils. Aces, that's right up his street, let's do it.

There was one comment that was... Distractingly wrong, to the point I insisted to myself I address the above bit first. The idea that Lelouch doesn't care about anyone but Nunnally. First, Euphemia would like a word. And forming behind her are a line of Shirley, CC, Kallen and Suzaku. Second, it has been fourteen years of his new life. This might surprise you but after doing literally everything he could, including dying, for the sake of giving Nunnally every chance at happiness, he's kind of moved on? He can't go back to her, so he's getting on with his new life and formed new bonds. Primary among them his direct family, Ana and Rias.

As for the bond between him and Rias not being developed enough? That one holds a little weight, but I didn't want this story to be ten year old Lelouch for thirty chapters. Too many stories start in childhood and get bogged down. Rias was the first person he met outside his own house. There was a bit of 'tell don't show' as one reviewer put it, but... Well, that's primarily a criticism of omniscient narration and less so for third person limited. Not ideal but not disastrous and done for, again, the sake of not endlessly writing the babby Lulu story. We need to get somewhere eventually, people.

And finally, I know fanfiction writers have a problem where their child characters end up acting like they're way older. I know it's gotten to the point where that's almost the norm. But guys, y'all gotta stop hating on a ten year old Rias for acting like a ten year old. Come on.

Think that about covers it. See you guys tomorrow for another chapter.