Lelouch reclined comfortably in his seat in Clovis' private jet with his fingers steepled in front of him. He had expected this. He had expected to be thrown back into that den of vipers more commonly known as the Imperial family. It was practically a death sentence.
He was quite familiar with his own position within the Imperial hierarchy. His mother had been a commoner. He didn't have a pedigree. The only thing that distinguished him from the masses of other commoners was his father's blood, which he had more or less renounced seven years ago after his mother had died.
They had called him the Peasant Prince when he'd been a boy. When they were feeling particularly malicious, they would call Nunnally the Paperbag Princess. It had always infuriated him. The teasing and mocking had gotten so bad that his mother had had to intervene in her prototype Knightmare. That hadn't improved their already shaky relations with the rest of the Imperial family at all. As far as most of the other branches of the Imperial family were concerned, the vi Britannias were a stain on their family history.
Very few – if any – of his half-siblings would be genuinely pleased to see him again. He still remembered the subtle dances required to navigate the ever-shifting currents of the Imperial court's favor, the lesson drilled into him even as a child. He remembered the pleasant fake smiles everyone wore right up until the second they plunged the knife into your heart. He knew better than to take any of them at face value.
Perhaps the only person he could expect genuine treatment from in Pendragon was his father. The Emperor was unapologetically truthful. He didn't hide his motives or true feelings; he simply told you exactly what you were. An expendable pawn.
He tensed as he contemplated the Emperor's reaction to his resurrection. His father was the one who had who had left them to die. Had the Emperor been hoping they would perish during the violent invasion of Japan? The man certainly hadn't attempted to save them. Was the war with Japan supposed to be his execution? To put a final bloody end to the tainted vi Britannia branch of the Imperial family?
If so, then he couldn't expect anything more than a death sentence from the Emperor. He supposed he should thank Clovis now, for announcing his existence to the world like he had. It would look suspicious if he was suddenly pronounced dead again. Perhaps Clovis had planned that? Would Clovis do that?
The answer was probably yes. Despite acting like an overindulged twit most of the time, Clovis had a good grasp of the way politics worked. He knew that he couldn't directly challenge the Emperor on Lelouch's behalf. He could, however, give the Emperor pause by using the common masses.
So if the Emperor wasn't going to have him executed, that meant he was going to have to make himself useful. He would have to bow his head and grovel at his father's feet. He would have to ask for the opportunity to make himself into another cheap game piece on the Emperor's expansive board.
That act alone would probably completely destroy his pride and dignity. There was no one in this world that he hated more than his father. In fact, there was nothing that he would like to do more than to see that man destroyed for what he had done to the vi Britannias. However, it seemed unlikely that he would be granted his revenge. Charles zi Britannia wasn't stupid. He would know that Lelouch despised him and take proper precautions. Still, he could dream.
Sighing, Lelouch crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. It was a long flight and it was going to be morning by the time he landed in Pendragon. He was going to be exhausted and jetlagged if he didn't force himself to get some sleep. And agonizing about his upcoming reunion with the rest of the Imperial family wasn't going to solve anything for him. It was going to go badly. He was resigned to that fact. Frowning, he forced his eyes closed and attempted to shut his mind down so that he could get some sleep.
In the clubhouse at Ashford Academy, the Student Council were sitting in Nunnally's bedroom with a large garbage bin placed in the center. They were meticulously going through the girl's things. Milly had decided that destroying everything might not be such a good idea, so they were divvying up anything that wasn't easily replaceable or held sentimental value to be hidden in each of the Student Council's dorms. All of the princess' remaining clothes were packed to be donated to charity. Her collection of braille books were sent to be burned as they would have been too recognizable if anyone decided to look into the goings on of the Student Council. It could lead to awkward questions, like why the Student Council had braille books when clearly none of the members were blind.
"So . . . Lelouch is out of hot water now, right Milly?" Rivalz wondered as he sorted through a stack of old school assignments. "I mean, it sounded like in the letter that if they announced he was alive it meant he wasn't in trouble."
"I don't know." Milly answered quietly. "I'm worried about him. He's always been terrified of this. Of being caught and having to go back."
"Lelouch? Terrified?" Rivalz questioned. "Yeah right."
"Lelouch was only ten when his mother died and he was sent to Area Eleven." Milly reminisced. "He wouldn't even talk to me for the first month he began staying with us. I don't think he actually expected my grandfather to agree to sheltering them. He didn't trust us for a long time. He was afraid to let people get too close. Even at ten, he understood that he had been used and then abandoned when he was no longer useful."
"I feel so bad for Lelouch." Shirley said sadly. "All this time that we've been friends with him and we didn't really know him at all. I hope he doesn't think that we were just using him for our own gain."
Milly smiled. "Of course he doesn't. He knows that we all genuinely care about both him and his suddenly nonexistent sister. Now then," She said, perking back up. "I hereby declare that it's time for a break. We've already been at this for hours and I'm famished. Let's go make supper."
The others agreed and they made their way to the Lamperouge's newly abandoned kitchen where further progress was interrupted by someone impatiently ringing the doorbell. It was unusual. Usually only members of the Student Council visited the clubhouse when there wasn't an event going on.
When Milly opened the door, she was met by the faces of over a dozen anxious girls.
"Oh my God, Milly! Is it really true? Our Lelouch is really a prince?" One of them demanded.
"He took me to the cross dressers ball two years ago!" Another squealed.
"I knew there was something different about him. He always seemed so refined and regal in everything he did." Yet another boasted.
"Uh . . ." Milly mumbled as she took in the appearance of the crowd. Even as she watched, other girls were joining the group, swelling the ranks of the infatuated fan girls.
"Well come on, Milly! Spit it out! You knew, didn't you?" One of them shouted.
A disturbance in the center of the group drew her attention away from the girls as she watched a man with sandy blond hair shoulder his way through the crowd.
"Hello," He said, glancing up as he pushed his way through to the front of the crowd. "Are you Milly Ashford? I'm Diethard Reid with Hi-TV news. I was hoping you'd consent to an interview."
"What a circus." Milly mumbled before turning to the reporter. "No, I'm sorry I can't do that. His Highness Lelouch expressly forbade me from talking to the press." She lied before turning on the infatuated girls. "As for the rest of you, as President of the Student Council, I hereby order you all to disperse. Go back to your dorms and get on with your lives. Lelouch is gone, move on to a guy you can more realistically obtain. Might I suggest Student Council Treasurer Rivalz Cardemonde. Not only is he cute, funny and loyal, but he has the added benefit of being close friends with Lelouch."
There was much groaning and mumbling, but eventually the crowd did disperse. Except for the reporter who simply stood there calmly, watching the girls go. He waited until they were gone before he approached her again.
"So the rumors were true that you did have contact with Prince Lelouch before his rediscovery. And that your family was the one sheltering him." The man persisted. "Can you tell me why the prince didn't return to the Imperial family before now? He had to know that the royal family was concerned about him. I can make it worth your while."
"Mr. Reid, I believe I already told you that I'm not going to talk to the press. I'm not going to answer your questions. Now, I'm going to have to kindly ask you to leave. And by 'leave', I mean removing yourself and your coworkers from the campus grounds. This is a school. I'm not sure how you were allowed onto school grounds, but I can assure you I will be looking into it. I cannot have strange men wandering around the grounds. For the safety of the students, you understand?"
The reporter smiled coolly before inclining his head to her and turning away. The next day he anonymously submitted an article to a filthy gossip rag about an illicit relationship between the Student Council President and the prince that was in hiding. Revenge was sweet.
Pendragon was just how he remembered it. Hot and uncomfortable with everyone staring at him like he was some kind of exotic display in a zoo. The rumble of soft whispers – gossip told behind the cover of one's hand – followed him the entire way through the palace as he approached the throne room. The room where that man was waiting for him.
Lelouch clenched his hands into fists as he carried himself forward. The last time he'd entered this room . . .
"You are dead. You have always been dead to me, dead from the moment you were born."
That was right. To the Emperor he was nothing more than an animated corpse. An inanimate playing piece that sometimes moved unpredictably. That was all. Even Lelouch could see the danger in that. It was risky when your game pieces were unpredictable. The only way to guarantee his survival was to sacrifice all of his pride and subjugate himself to the Emperor's will.
"Hail, Your Majesty. I, Lelouch vi Britannia, have returned." He said firmly as he sank to one knee in front of the throne with an arm crossed over his chest in fealty.
Aside from a fleeting glance to confirm that the throne was indeed occupied – it would be just like the Emperor to forget that his long lost son was returning to visit him – he hadn't dared to actually look at the man that had caused him and Nunnally so much hardship.
The silence his introduction was met with was deafening and dragged on long enough to make Lelouch squirm. He cautiously glanced up, hiding his gaze through the cover of his bangs to get some clue of what the Emperor was thinking.
His father was sitting straight-backed in his throne, staring intently at Lelouch with a frown on his lips. "And?" The Emperor queried after a long silence.
And what? What exactly did the Emperor want from him? He was already kneeling at the man's feet. Wasn't that enough? No. No, of course not. He had transgressions to make up for. His silence for the last seven years was a betrayal that wouldn't be quickly forgiven. All the same . . .
"And I humbly request your forgiveness."
The Emperor stared at his unruly son, the frown deepening more every second. None of his other children would have dared such audacity. But then, Lelouch had always been different. Headstrong, just like his mother. "Leave us." He commanded, much to the muttered surprise of the members of the court.
Lelouch felt his heart leap into his throat at the order. This couldn't be good if his father didn't want any witnesses. He waited, unmoving in tense silence, as the members of his father's court began making their exits. He waited until every last member was gone and the room was again plunged into stressed silence. And then he waited a little longer as his father rose from the throne and circled him like a vulture around a piece of fresh carrion.
"Stand up, Lelouch." Charles ordered.
Lelouch hesitatingly complied, his heart racing in his chest as he did so. He wouldn't have an excuse for not looking at his father any more. He would have to look the Emperor, a man that he both feared and loathed, in the eye and express his deepest apologies for choosing his own survival and well-being over the deceitful machinations of the Imperial court.
"Where is your sister?" The Emperor demanded as he came to rest directly in front of Lelouch.
Lelouch flinched and averted his gaze. No, he could not look that man in the eye. An excellent liar he may be, but even he couldn't look the Emperor directly in the eye and begin spouting fiction. He hoped the man would interpret it as shame.
"She's dead, Your Majesty." He answered quietly. "There was an airstrike and the building we were in collapsed. I wasn't able to get her out in time." He invented, silently praying to any god or celestial being that it would be believed.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
There was another pregnant pause that left Lelouch biting on the inside of his lip in his anxiety. "I suppose that was to be expected." The Emperor said finally. "But you were strong and so you survived.
"I have no use for that weakling."
That was right. As little as Lelouch had ever meant to his father, Nunnally had meant infinitely less. Lelouch, at least, could be used for political gain. Nunnally was nothing more than a purposeless lump of flesh to the Emperor. Her disabilities had made it impossible for her to even be married off in a politically advantageous pairing.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Lelouch answered obediently, even though he was inwardly seething. He wanted to lash out at his father. He wanted to make that man understand that what he had done was wrong. That the way he treated his children was barbaric and immoral. But he couldn't. Right now, he needed to focus on surviving. And the best way to do that at the moment was just shut up and agree with whatever the Emperor said.
"So why did you return to us, Lelouch?" The Emperor asked.
Lelouch inwardly grimaced. Why, indeed? Ideally, he should spin some kind of story about being held captive by militant terrorists from whose clutches he had just escaped. Except that the Emperor probably already knew all about what had happened back in Area Eleven. The man probably knew that he'd been discovered by Clovis by chance. And that he'd tried to run away before being caught.
So, if that was the case, he should just tell the truth. Being caught in a lie would only serve to cast doubt on everything else he'd said. Like Nunnally's fate.
"I was found by Clovis." He answered reluctantly. "He insisted that I return."
"And if Clovis hadn't found you?" Charles interrogated, his eyes narrowing into a glare.
"Then I would have remained in Area Eleven in obscurity." Lelouch answered.
"Why?"
Lelouch grimaced. This definitely wasn't going to sound good, but he'd already resigned himself to telling the truth. "Because you abandoned me, Your Majesty. Because you sent us to Japan as tools and left us to die during the invasion."
"Heh." The Emperor snorted before clasping Lelouch around the back of the neck and giving him a gentle squeeze. It was the first fatherly gesture Lelouch had ever received from the man and took him completely off guard. "You are strong, Lelouch. And smart. You'll be useful to me."
He was then promptly turned out of the throne room and into the waiting clutches of his siblings.
"Lelouch!" Euphemia cried the moment he opened the door. She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly until he had to forcefully break her grip in order to breath. "Oh my God, I'm so happy you're alive!" She gushed as she began touching his hair, his face, his chest, his arms as though trying to reassure herself he wasn't just a phantom.
"Euphemia, give the boy a chance to breath." Cornelia scolded before she gently pushed her sister out of the way and pulled Lelouch into an equally oppressive hug. "It's good to have you back. I dropped everything when I heard the news and came rushing back here to see you."
"Uh, thanks." He mumbled awkwardly before he was passed on to another sibling. He had almost two hundred brothers and sisters. Thankfully, only about sixty of them were present. Even more thankfully, most of them were able to restrain themselves to a simple greeting or a handshake.
"So you came crawling back, huh?" Carline sneered as he approached. Even as a little girl, Carline had been disdainful and abrasive. She had taken it upon herself to be Nunnally's personal tormentor and had done everything in her power to make the two "commoners" miserable. It seemed she hadn't changed.
"Don't be so harsh, Carline." Guinevere chided. "Of course he would come back. He's a prince of the Imperial family. You poor dear. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you to have to live amongst the riffraff like that."
Of course, that would be Guinevere's main concern. He'd navigated his way through a war zone carrying his blind, crippled sister on his back and she was worried about him having to rub elbows with foreigners. He hated how out of touch with reality most members of the Imperial family were.
Thankfully, he was saved from further conversation with the two by Schneizel. Schneizel handed him a glass of wine before raising his own in salute and dragging him away from the two bitter sisters.
"You look well," Schneizel said conversationally as they made their way through the crowd and out into the Imperial Palace's gardens. "All things considered."
"Thank you." Lelouch said awkwardly. Schneizel had been a mentor to him as a child. It had been Schneizel that had taught him how to play chess. It had been Schneizel that had shown him the first of the very few fencing moves he knew. Schneizel who would read to him books that his mother hadn't deemed appropriate for a boy of his age. Old classics, like Les Miserables and The Count of Monte Cristo. Those were treasured memories, but a lot had changed since then.
"Lelouch . . . you hate me, don't you? You hate all of us. All of this." Schneizel said, gesturing back towards the impromptu party and the extravagant palace.
"I'm not sure." He answered honestly.
He was angry, certainly. And spending the rest of his days cooped up in Pendragon listening to the petty dramas of the court unfold all around him wasn't anything he was looking forward to. But did he hate them? Did he actually loath his brothers and sisters for what they were – for what they had been carefully crafted into through the careful conditioning of the court?
If Schneizel had asked if he hated their father, the answer would have been instantaneous. Yes. He loathed Charles zi Britannia with every fibre of his being. He also hated Britannia in and of itself. The Empire was based upon a foundation of Social Darwinism that not only tolerated but encouraged atrocities against the defenceless. The weak were just tools to be used by the strong. Stepping stones. Food.
"I don't hate you, Schneizel." He clarified after a long silence. "Nor do I hate the others. Mostly. They are simply what they were made to be. But the one who made them like that - the crafter of all the seeds of dissension amongst the court, the one that encourages them to abuse their neighbors, to take everything they can without giving anything in return – him I hate."
Let Schneizel do with that what he would. It was practically a treasonous offence to slander the Emperor in such a way. But Lelouch felt no remorse.
"I have to say, I feel the same way, my little brother." Schneizel said after a moment of silence before throwing his arm around Lelouch's shoulders and pulling him into something like a one armed hug. "I'm glad I still have an ally in you. You had the potential to be a very fearsome enemy."
Lelouch chuckled. And so it began. The political scheming. The backstabbing. The constant jockeying for power and attention. And Schneizel was to be his ally, it seemed.
"You know . . . I would have helped you if you had come to me." His brother said after a moment.
"In secret?" Lelouch asked.
"Of course."
Lelouch pondered that for a moment. Like with Clovis, he wasn't completely sure if he could trust Schneizel. Everyone at court had their own goals and their own agendas. But still, there was no point in burning all his bridges.
"Then I wish it had been you that had caught me instead."
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