Chapter Text
=/=
(Lelouch’s brain scares me. This man is somehow capable of thinking an entire monologue to himself in the classic Shakespearian tradition with a sword blade in his heart.)
Lelouch was well aware that if he was not yet already dead then he was within a faltering heartbeat of his life ending. His final breath was rattling in his throat. Nunally was crying and somehow, somehow, Lelouch could tell that the others were mourning him too. CC and Kallen, Suzaku and Jeremiah, the Black Knights and the Knights of the Round. Even Cornelia and Shneizel were weeping over his death in their own strange ways, for all that they loathed him too. Lelouch... had not expected to be missed. Not like this. Not by so many. He had gone to out of his way to earn their hate, so why did they cry now?
Had Zero Requiem failed?
No. No, it could not. Not after Lelouch had sacrificed so much for Nunally's gentler world. (A world with no place for Lelouch. A world Nunally had rejected Lelouch dwelling in.)
The Collective Human Consciousness watched as it's Champion, the one who had preserved the entity called by some as 'God's existence, bled out. The bright mind that had waged war on a global concept of bigotry and oppression dimmed. The voice that had rallied and inspired nations was silenced as breath stilled. The spark in sharp royal purple eyes stuttered... and went out.
Lelouch Lamperouge vi Britannia, ninety-ninth Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire smiled at his sister. As Nunally screamed for her brother to wake up, that she forgave him, so please, please, just keep breathing! As the soon-to-be Empress wept bitter tears the world as they knew it... was destroyed. In that selfsame moment that Lelouch hovered between life and death the fractured pieces of reality shifted, tilted out of their old alignment... and reassembled into a whole new point of view.
The old world was discarded, and was recreated anew.
/.../
"Big brother, wake up! Please, big brother, I love you!" Resigned eyes, filled with tears.
"He must not die!" Long hair spilled carelessly across bloody concrete.
"I won't let you touch my lord!" Broad shoulders blocking the line of sight between assailant and target.
"I refuse that order! I'm not going to let you hurt him!" Stubborn determination in the stiff line of the spine and the firm set of the jaw.
"No one hurts my precious big brother!" Eyes a shade off but still eerily familiar narrowed in a glare as fine features twisted in a savage snarl.
"You've become Japan's hope." An all too rare smile gleaming under the bright hanger lights.
/.../
Lelouch Lamperouge vi Britannia woke up choking on blood that did not fill his lungs, clutching at a wound that did not rip through the center of his heart. He thrashed his way free of the smothering blankets, overstuffed pillows spilling from the bed and softening his fall to a floor that was much too far away to be safe.
'What happened? Did Suzaku fail? No, impossible, but if Nunally or one of the others interfered...' Delirious with remembered pain Lelouch grabbed the bedpost, determined to get back on his feet and somehow salvage the plan he had bet everything on. Lelouch paused, staring at his hand where it was clenched in the heavily brocaded coverlet. Thin pale fingers crumpled the vi Britannia crest, picked out in gold thread on violet velvet. 'That's... not possible. I have to be hallucinating...'
Lelouch ignored his phantom pains and stood (the pain was just an illusion to be ignored) staggering over to where he knew (remembered) a mirror to be. Wide imperial purple eyes (the proportions were all wrong for what his mind said should be there) set in a pale face, fine boned features pinched in pain, skin almost bloodless from system shock (if what this appeared to be was truly happening why was he still hurt? Death was the end of pain, so if pain still existed as a physical sensation, then that must mean...)
Trembling fingers unhooked the mother-of-pearl buttons on the soft, satin-blend pajamas. The red mark where Zero's blade had pierced through the ninety-ninth Emperor of Britannia was livid against the thin skin stretched over Lelouch's ribs. HIs breathing began to speed up in the beginning of a panic attack, and Lelouch forced himself to steady his respiration. (There was no time to panic. He needed to plan. There was no time to waste.) Touching the stigmata proved only that the scar was just that. A simple scar. Ugly and red, twisting the skin in a way that made the healed flesh feel utterly alien under probing fingers. It looked just like what it had been, a death blow centered over his heart. Etched indelibly into his flesh, the icon of the Black Knights. (At least it was not the true Geass Crest, explaining away that would be beyond even Lelouch's ability to spin.) Lelouch breathed deeply and looked up into the eyes of the child in his reflection, speaking the truth aloud. "I died."
Yes, Lelouch Lamperouge vi Britannia had died... then. At this point in time, however... he was alive. Now, however, there was no need for him to die as he had in that possible future. The gleeful whisper continued, burbling happily about possibility, about potential, about unlimited choice.
Lelouch's eyes narrowed, and the look on his face was all the more disturbing for the youth of his features.
"You... saved me. Not my body, but you preserved my mind. The collection of experiences and memories that define the existence of the me that I am now.” Lelouch murmured to the listening void. The collective human consciousness. The faceless and multi-faced. The voiceless celestial chorus. That higher power sent a wave of gleeful, triumphant agreement. Lelouch frowned, touching the stigmata that was all that remained of his death wound once again. “Why? Why do that? What made me… worthy?”
Why not? It was the choice that had been made. For all Lelouch Lamperouge vii Britannia had the Geass of Absolute Obedience, he had never used it to change the way people thought. He allowed them their own beliefs even as he stripped them of their agency. How easy it would have been to Geass away all those tiny doubts harboured in the heart of every Black Knight. How easily obtained would Suzaku’s unwavering loyalty and support have been? Yet Lelouch had left every last one of them with the ability, the choice, to decide to follow him… or to betray him. Often to his own painful detriment. Lelouch may have forced action, might have stolen memories… but hearts and minds had been left alone. Lelouch’s victims had been robbed of agency, but only briefly, and never of their free will. Every single person swayed to Lelouch’s side had come of their own volition, no matter for how brief that time was. Lelouch had saved them. Saved their ability to make their own choices and live and laugh and cry. For everyone who had been, was, and would be. Allowing Lelouch to die after such a service to the World of C was… wasteful. Would it not be more entertaining to try again? Perhaps a new choice would create a new world. It was better this way.
“A new world…” Lelouch mused as the World of C hummed in his head like a half-forgotten song. A word you knew the meaning of, but could not remember how to pronounce. The Geass sigils flickered over violet eyes, the Power of the King held under perfect, pin-point control. Lelouch smirked as They Who Were Called God cackled in the background of his mind. “All the world’s a stage, hm? Well then… let’s see what role I shall play in this act.”
/…/
(Lelouch spent much of the time leading up to Zero Requiem in contemplation of his life choices and brutally honest personal reflection. This has the admittedly terrifying result of creating a Lelouch who knows himself well enough to avoid triggering another breakdown. The World trembles with fear and… anticipation.)
Over the course of changing into his day clothes and taking his breakfast, Lelouch Lamperouge vii Britannia crafted the framework of a plan. It was nothing dramatic. Nowhere near his previous levels of duplicity. Nothing at all like the Zero-levels of masterwork plotting that would have to wait at least until after Lelouch’s voice broke… again. This far back in his personal timeline, however, simple was best. A butterfly flaps it’s wings to birth a hurricane across the world.
The first thing Lelouch did after ordering his thoughts was track down where he had hidden his day-planner. Even as a child in truth Lelouch had been meticulous about planning his actions out. The moleskin book would give Lelouch the means to avoid any missteps in his personal and professional lives. Violet eyes narrowed at the date written on the newspaper laid next to his plate. So, he had a little more than a week until his mother’s ‘assassination’ would take place. Good. The plan could have been adapted to any timeline from a year to a day, but a week was as close to perfect as Lelouch could ask for. Long enough not to require extreme action on Lelouch’s end of things. Short enough that Lelouch would not grow bored and stressed enough to try to make his own entertainment in the intermittent time. Any odd behaviour on Lelouch’s part would be forgotten in the wake of Marianne’s death, which would also give him the perfect excuse should anyone notice the alteration and new maturity of his personality.
Pleased, Lelouch shut his planner with a snap and stood from his chair. Violet eyes gleamed red over a demonic smile. “Now then, my loyal Jeremiah Gottwald, wherever are you hiding?”
/…/
Jeremiah Gottwald was a literal thinker. In a strange way, this meant that the Margrave was all but immune to taking damage from Lelouch’s plots. When it came to his lord, nothing was unforgivable. Nothing was impossible. Nothing was beyond reason. That level of platonic affection and unerring devotion was rare, and Lelouch felt no shame in prioritizing the act of gaining Jeremiah’s loyalty for himself once again over all other considerations. In fact, a great deal of Lelouch’s plans for the next week hinged on the actions of Jeremiah Gottwald.
Lelouch had always been possessive, but the thought of someone else commanding Lelouch’s Knight made the de-aged prince want to stab someone in the face.
So. The thing to do would be to speak plainly, and honestly…
/…/
“… I know you think I’m just a child playing games. I know you think I don’t really understand the depth and strength of those vows I would ask of you. But…” The young prince looked up at the speechless Guardsman, violet eyes steady and solemn and far wiser than they had any right to be. “But when I’m older and stronger… will you promise to take me seriously then? When I’m grown up, and a real Prince… will you be my Knight of Honour then, Jeremiah?”
Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald knelt, still unable to find his voice, and took his prince’s small, pale hands in his own. The reverent kiss pressed to his ring finger made Lelouch vii Britannia gasp. The teenage noble manage to find the words he needed in that moment, and gave them readily to his prince. “Ask now, or ask ten years from now, my lord, and my answer shall ever be the same. I can think of no greater honour than to be your Knight.”
Lelouch’s smile bloomed like the sunrise in fast forward, warming Jeremiah all the way through. What had he done to deserve this sort of regard from the Prince?
“My Knight.” Small arms wrapped around Jeremiah’s neck with proprietary affection. “… Hm. Give me a few days to figure out how to convince Mother, Jeremiah, and then we can tell the world.”
“Of course, my Prince.” Jeremiah saw the pleased spark in violet eyes when the knight returned possessiveness like for like, and pleased coil of joy curled up beneath his breastbone.
Jeremiah’s Prince, and Lelouch’s Knight. Yes, that sounded exactly right.
=/=
(Game. Set. Match. Marianne the Flash proved herself his enemy once before and so Lelouch… has no responsibility to save her. His sister, his men… they are a different story.)
This was it. Lelouch’s pulse beat in his ears like war drums. This was it. This was the moment of truth. The moment that changed everything from here on forward. This was when Lelouch proved to himself that his memories were more than just nightmarish hallucinations. This was where and when Lelouch changed something fundamental about the world. This was where Lelouch changed the future to come.
All the conditions had been met. With this act, the first obstacle would be cleared. Now… game start.
/…/
Sir Jeremiah Gottwald’s life had changed a great deal over the course of the last few days. The young knight had thought himself just one of many noble born guards stationed at the Aeries Villa, loyally protecting the Empress Marianne and her children…
Prince Lelouch’s request had knocked Jeremiah for six. Only ten but by and away far more intelligent and mature than men more than twice his age. Prince Lelouch had taken note of Jeremiah, had noticed him as more than just another interchangeable security guard, and had seen something in Jeremiah that was worthy of the young royal Prince’s attention. Something worthy of Prince Lelouch’s deepest trust.
Will you be my Knight of Honour, Jeremiah Gottwald?
Would he? May as well ask if the sun would rise!
Jeremiah's lord Prince… it was humbling that Lelouch had even mentioned waiting until he was older to ask in earnest. That Lelouch had thought he needed to warn Jeremiah of his intentions, as if his Prince’s regard was something unwanted!
Jeremiah knew exactly who to blame for Lelouch’s low opinion of himself. The Court, and the Emperor’s other wives, and their petty, vicious, back-biting commentary about how Marianne the Flash had managed to rise through the ranks to a position in the Knights of the Round. Calling little Nunally the Paper bag Princess. Calling Lelouch the Pauper Prince! Too many forgot that noble blood meant little and nothing without noble conduct. To slander the Empress for her lack of lineage, when they themselves had done nothing more noteworthy than to be born to the right family name!
… It was obvious that Jeremiah was going to need to work on controlling his temper if he was to accompany his Prince and not be arrested for assault.
/…/
“… Are you sure about this, my lady?” Cornellia hesitated before leaving, giving her personal hero and technical step-mother a pleading look. “Please, Lady Marianne, reconsider this! To leave yourself completely unprotected… at least allow me to stay!”
“Don’t worry so much, Cornellia!” Marianne laughed and shooed the teenage girl who was both the daughter of her husband and head of her guard out of the room. “I can take care of myself, after all! Now, you have your orders. Go and enjoy your night off!”
“… As you command, my lady.” Cornellia bowed, obviously upset, and stomped away. It would seem to be a night that begged extra time for firearms practice. Cornellia would go deal with that right away.
/…/
Jeremiah Gottwald was uneasy. The order to leave Aeries Villa… it stank of something sinister. Orders were, however, orders. Especially the orders given by an Empress. So Jeremiah would follow those orders, as was his duty to crown and country.
First, however, Jeremiah was going to see to his Prince. Lelouch had taken to requesting Jeremiah’s presence when the Knight was on duty in the handful of days since his astonishing request, and so would be expecting Jeremiah’s arrival shortly. His Prince would worry unnecessarily if Jeremiah was not there when he was expected to be.
/…/
Hot. Dizzy. Lelouch stumbled into a wall. When he had come up with this part of the plan he had not fully considered how horrible the act of being ill would make him feel. By all the little voices in his head, if this plan failed after Lelouch put himself through this sort of agony then Lelouch would do something drastically unwise.
He might even get impulsive.
The result would not be pretty. Or morally decent. Or available to viewers under eighteen.
The Geass of Absolute Obedience. Really, in retrospect Lelouch had been rather unimaginative when it came to utilizing his power during his first round of life. It helped that the Collective Consciousness had decided to tweak things a bit, but still. Criminally lacklustre effort on Lelouch’s part.
Amazing what a second chance and a great deal of introspective hindsight could do for a man’s mental health.
Ordering himself to have complete control of his body, mind, and consciousness was dangerously effective. Despite all the symptoms being the resulting placebo effects of a Geass induced mastery of biofeedback, Lelouch both looked and felt horribly ill. Jeremiah was going to fold like wet tissue paper. Lelouch almost felt sorry about this part, but… well. It was for Nunally. Jeremiah would understand and was probably going to thank him once this whole farce was over with.
Now, where was his Knight? The order to withdraw the guards should have been given by now, and considering Jeremiah’s mindset the Knight would not leave without seeing first to his liege. So Jeremiah should be on his way to…
“My Prince!” Ah, there he was. Lelouch loved it when a plan came together.
/…/
“Jeremiah…” The prince looked horrible, violet eyes glazed and pale skin burning red with fever. “I don’t… feel well.”
Jeremiah caught the young prince as he stumbled and would have fallen, the Knight’s unease transforming into stark terror as the full weight of the situation hit. If something happened while the guards were gone… the prince could hardly walk!
“My lord, I… Empress Marianne has dismissed all the guards.” Jeremiah swallowed back his trepidation. “I will take you to your rooms, my lord, but then your royal mother has ordered me to leave.”
“No. You’re… you’re supposed to be my Knight, not Mother’s!” Lelouch pressed his burning face to the cool skin of Jeremiah’s throat. “You have to… have to stay. Mother’s busy tonight, and Nunally’s too… too little. Everyone else is gone. You… you have to stay. Please, Jeremiah? Don’t leave me alone!”
“I won’t, my prince. Rest easy.” Choice easily made, Jeremiah lifted his prince into his arms and headed for the wing that housed the young Prince and even younger Princess’ personal rooms. “Are even the maids gone? Brilliant. Why in heaven’s name… ah, don’t fret, my prince. I know well enough how to care for fevers.”
/…/
Nunally had come running the moment she heard Jeremiah’s stream of reassurances. Instantly her plans to run amok in the near-empty villa were derailed by the need to care for her poor big brother.
The cool dampness of the folded face cloth was a blessing. Lelouch was starting to think that he had taken his act just a little too far.
Only, maybe not, because Jeremiah had taken up a post by the foot of Lelouch’s bed, but the young man bringing Nunally a new bowl of ice water was… not Jeremiah, obviously. Really now, this fever plan had been a stupid idea. Lelouch simply could not concentrate while his brain was boiling in his skull.
“Thank you, Marius!” Nunally chirped, polite despite her worry for her brother. “It was kind of you to come in and keep us company on your night off.”
“Well, someone had to pick up the medicine for the Prince.” Marius looked up at the ceiling innocently, like a little boy caught with cookie in hand. Bless, Cornellia’s wont for filling any open slots on the roster with people younger than her. Younger Knights made this adjustment to Lelouch’s plan for tonight much less creepy. Oddly enough, Jeremiah might just be the oldest Knight present. Which made sense, guards who had been at the job longer were more likely to take orders at face value. Marius’ had dimples, it made him look even younger. “Might as well be me since you so kindly invited me to your sleepover, Princess.”
Lelouch’s sister was the best sister. When confronted with a sick brother and no guards, what did she do? She invited a baker’s dozen of her favourites to the villa for a sleepover. About twice again that number had actually shown up, thanks to the youthful tendency to travel in packs, and they had stationed themselves liberally throughout Lelouch and Nunally’s apartments. Giving credit where it was due, none of them had shown up in uniform, and Lelouch really wished he had a camera. They were all making a token effort to at least appear to be indulging the young Princess’ desire for a pyjama party. The body armour worn under their nearly identical flannels was subtle, and Aeris Villa’s new uniform code was distracting enough that most would overlook it. There were pillows everywhere, walking would be a hazard for anyone expecting Lelouch’s usual immaculate floor.
Lelouch had based his plans around keeping Jeremiah close by and distracting Nunally from her wandering. Well, he had succeeded beyond his wildest imaginings. Nunally was more than safe, since with the perimeter compromised the guards were being rather strict about keeping Nunally in sight. Of course, as long as Lelouch was sick Nunally was going exactly nowhere.
Everything Lelouch remembered about this night had been gloriously derailed. Lelouch was almost looking forward to the first shot. Perhaps it was madness, but Lelouch had seen what loyal men could accomplish when given a cause and a goal. Just witness these Knights disobeying their Empress to keep Nunally safe. The assassination of Marianne would bind them tighter, and probably set the lot of them charging after the Geass Order’s heads.
Lelouch hoped his parents choked on the irony they would be forced to swallow. Outplayed by a little girl wanting to nurse her ailing brother back to health! Oh, it was magnificent!
Lelouch’s sister really was the very best sister.
=/=