Code Geass: The Black Prince Ch. 01 Part 01
CODE GEASS: THE BLACK PRINCE
Chapter 01: Tangents
Part 01
2017 Ascension Throne Britannia (ATB);
Aries Palace, New York, Holy Britannia Empire
Golden eyes blinked from above, the pupils slowly adapting themselves slowly to the gentle sheen of the city lights. The piercing stare resumed its search, relentlessly chasing the shadows away. Night had fallen without warning on the vast capital, wrapping its white and blue outline in a wreath of black speckled with yellow and silver. The eyes glanced downwards, her attention drawn by two figures standing under one of the Imperial Palace's gates.
~OoO~
Being at the service of the Imperial Family was a good way to increase one's overall standing; but it didn't come without drawbacks. Whenever one would progress further up the social echelons, one would also realize how ingratiating a job it was. Knights and other sentries, despite being allowed within the walls of the illustrious, lavish mansion, amounted to very little but nameless pawns to be used without reserve. At certain times, it meant being yelled at or snubbed by richly-clothed people who wouldn't consider them higher than repulsive gnats to be swiftly squashed. At others, it meant standing in the cold or the heat without any measure against boredom and under threat of great reprimands.
Such was the fate of the two guards keeping an eye on the Rushmore gate, the South entrance to the Aries Palace.
The younger officer tightened his hold on the cup of coffee, trying to warm his fingers with the heat radiating from the recipient. Autumn had taken its final turn towards winter and proclaimed the change quite ruthlessly. For those who were ordered to stay outdoors, any trick to repel the cold was welcome. "Holy Lord, what wouldn't I give to be in one of those frilly offices and happily shuffling paperwork rather than dawdling here," he muttered, his head bowed to keep his neck away from the permeating frost. His brother-in-arms looked at him weirdly.
"Frilly? Obviously you haven't been inside, have you? Those quarters are anything but frilly; rather, they look like some high-class, military headquarters - very spartan, not a penny spent on luxury."
It was the first man's turn to frown. "Prince Schneizel's apartments certainly did have some comfort, though-"
"His apartments, yes, but the Black Prince is all but like Prince Schneizel - they are like two sides of a same coin; night and day," the mustachioed senior shook his head. Young recruits or fresh transfers always had this moment of bewilderment when assigned to the East Wing of the Aries Palace. The place was gorgeous to behold in spring and summer but hid a colder, sharper look if granted closer attention. Those who had had the privilege of going indoors - and they weren't many of them - could certainly see the nature of the mind that had remodeled the mansion to its whims. "And he makes it a point to let everyone know about the antithesis. The Black Prince is an adept of Machiavelli's precepts - he lords with fear and authority, not warmth and great feasts like Schneizel graciously does."
"Sounds like a copy of his own father," the younger guard muttered with a shrug. Royals tended to be all the same, sharing the same vices and over-glorified ambitions. To those far lower down the social pyramid, unburdened with the pomp and obligations of the court, it was hard to connect with people who seemed like remote shadows, individuals roughly shaped, never to be seen in their entirety. Palace soldiers only cared whether the monthly pay would be good and whether their workload would be light enough to relax and slack off when no one was looking. Whether royals had hidden traits mattered little.
"He didn't use to be like that, you know."
"Hmmm? Care to refresh my memory...sir?"
"He's the son of Empress Marianne, as you can recall - but her death changed him forever and...after that...incident at the court with his father the Emperor, I think his personality underwent a very unexpected development."
The cadet finished his cupful of coffee and wiped his mouth with his purple glove. "I remember that - that's when he was disgraced, wasn't he? Some of his siblings had to intercede in his favor..."
"Indeed," the sergeant nodded grimly, "and a nasty business it was. I can sympathize with the Prince, though - to have his mother killed and his father barely bat an eyebrow at the news. He must have been revolted beyond words - enough to freely display his anger at the court. It would have been uglier had not Princess Cornelia stepped forth and asked for forgiveness on his behalf. Since she had been a great admirer of the Empress, it is no wonder she vouched for her half-brother and tried to limit the damage."
"I see. Still, it must have been hard for her, knowing the Imperial Court-"
The sergeant sniffed. "Hard? None of her siblings made her any reproach, unlike her elders and the other nobles. But since she had been in charge of the Aries Palace's security detail that fateful night, she must have felt guilty for what had befallen her brother and sister. So as penance, I believe, she took him in and shielded him from the court. Even though his status had been an inch shy of being revoked by the Emperor himself, he remained in the succession line, but at the lowest echelons."
"It doesn't seem that way nowadays, though," the other observed with a pensive look, still trying to compute the news he had received. It was eerie, almost disconcerting how past and present held very little in common nowadays.
"Heh," the older man snorted, rubbing his hands together. "As I said, he changed. And I must say he showed everyone up, especially his father. Now he's what, third, fourth in line? Now, that's what I call successful."
The two shared a good laugh, knowing that they'd need it for the rest of their shift. The other pair of guards for the next shift wouldn't replace them until well into three in the morning. The pair took a few steps away of the porch, in an attempt to spur on the blood flow in their numbed legs. They headed towards a nearby bench but kept an eye on the surroundings as they moved.
"But the queer thing is, while very few officers have the privilege of mounting guard under his windows, even fewer have had the ability to protect his sister, young Princess Nunnally; the Southwest Pavilion is off-limits to everyone except-" he cut off in the middle of his sentence and squinted at something in the distance. The younger guard followed his gaze and spotted what had caught his attention.
Under a nearby arch, slithering between shadows, a silhouette gracefully crept towards the back gardens.
"What? Who's that? Hey! Who goes there?"
The two soldiers scrambled forwards just as the cat-like form disappeared behind a marble column, fading into the darkness.
"Sound the alarm! We have an intruder!"
~OoO~
"Lelouch," his half-sister had said, tears coalescing at the corner of her eyes, "you must not take this tone with His Highness. Never. It will only bring you more pain and hardships. Promise me you will not do something this foolish ever again. Promise me!" Her long fingers shook the stiff shoulders of her younger sibling, in a way that was more pleading than reproachful. The urgency in the situation was palpable but the two youngsters harbored different feelings: she was frightened out of her mind and alarmed beyond words, whereas he was struggling to contain his pain and outrage. The obloquy Lelouch Vie Britannia had suffered in the throne room still twisted his innards, wickedly demanding bloodshed as retribution. His youth billowed with fury at the disgrace he was forced to bear and incomprehension at the reason of it all. Pitted in a world where logic took darker and more convoluted outlines, it was evident he was desperately fighting a losing battle. It was only thanks to his half-sister's intervention that he had avoided being cast from the country and stripped of his title as Seventeenth Heir to the Throne. However, despite the indisputable solicitude behind her action, her intercession had also dealt additional harm: on top of directly defying the Emperor, he had suffered the ignominy of being excused by a family member. Another wound to his crumbling sense of dignity.
"But why, Cornelia, why!? Why would I have to show respect to someone who doesn't even care for us? He doesn't deserve it all-" He didn't have a chance to complete his argument as her hand connected sharply with his cheek, stunning him into speechlessness. He stood for a couple seconds with his head turned sideways, before bringing a bewildered stare back to his sister. He never had the will to find new words when he saw the long rivulets of tears trickling down her face.
They stood in front of each other, silent and solemn as graves. In a corner of the room, a younger Knight Gilford averted his eyes, knowing that a single breath taken too loudly would make things turn for the worse. Cornelia's shoulders sagged with misery and she clutched Lelouch's shoulders with renewed ardor. "Lelouch, I only wish to help you. You're my brother - do not ever forget it. And I love you just as I love Nunnally. But you cannot get your happiness back this way - it'll only make matters worse. Don't you see? Nobody here can question our father; he is the Emperor - Law incarnate. Going against him, even if his decisions are insensitive or inhuman, will only reap disaster and slander. You deserve better than that."
"But what," the ten-year-old choked, eyes wide in dawning helplessness, "what can I have when all is broken...lost...Nunnally is still between life and death, Mother is gone, Father doesn't care and nobody bothers anymore...even our friends the Ashfords have fallen from grace. What can possibly help me in all of this? Where is my justice, my retribution?" he shivered, a wild glint taking over his purple eyes. For a heart-gripping moment, Cornelia started to panic, fearing that her sibling might lose his wits and do something even more regrettable than opposing the Holy Emperor in person. The skies outside rumbled with thunder, as if the sky himself had sympathized with the youngster's plight.
"You'll find it, Lelouch," she whispered, drawing his head close to hers. "I'll help you. I'll make you into a prince better and more magnificent than anyone has ever seen. I'll help you stand back and fight. It's the only thing you can do to build a better world. Fight."
And with that, the gears of time clicked into place and started turned faster, the machine of fate setting itself towards a new path, a new tangent.
Lelouch sprang to a sitting position, his hands gripping the moist bed sheets. Panting as if his heart threatened to jump out of his throat, his body covered in perspiration, he remained frozen for a moment before he dared look up. Reality gradually reaffirmed its reign on his consciousness, chasing the nightmare's last remnants away. The Black Prince gritted his teeth and swung his legs over the edge, furious with himself. Certain memories were meant to be either forgotten or shelved for the time being. Although he did keep memorabilia of the past to remind himself where he was headed, he despised lingering over bygone times or forced to reminisce painful moments..
He ran long, slender hands over his face and rubbed the last traces of agitation from his chiseled features. Nightmares still plagued him from time to time but seldom were they about his tumultuous past. He had done everything to put those hardships behind and look forward to the future, but even then, chimaeras from old times still chased after him, feeding upon his darkest memories like carrion fodder.
It was then, as he his mind fully connected with reality, that he noticed the distant ringing of the emergency alarms. Cursing aloud at the nuisance, he snatched a housecoat from his wardrobe and made for his vast office, where he knew he could find, at any hour, a secretary or some low-ranking officer keeping an eye on both the news networks and the secure transmission telephones. He threw the doors open and glared imperiously at the startled occupants.
"What is this racket?" yelled over the din. Two red-clad officers froze in their tracks and nervously looked at the aggravated Prince. They immediately kneeled in respect. "Report. Immediately."
"Your Highness, the guards at the Rushmore Gate have spotted a suspicious person sneaking around the gardens. We are currently trying to apprehend the said individual," the highest-ranked of the two intoned as humbly as possible.
"An intruder?" Lelouch's eyebrows migrated upwards in mild surprise. He rarely showed any emotion especially when in a fey mood, but the slightest narrowing of his eyes readily gave a stark snapshot of his mindset. And those who knew him very well could easily tell that his mood wasn't going to improve at all. "If that is so, then catch him as you are supposed to do. And stop this alarm at once." It wasn't so much his own sleep he wanted to defend, but rather that of his younger, handicapped sister. Whenever she heard that wailing sound, she was automatically transported back in time, to the tragedy that had occurred seven years ago. At all costs, Lelouch wanted to prevent the resurgence of a long-buried trauma. The doctors had told him her eyes had not suffered from any injury but her blindness was psychological in nature - a convoluted way to defend the psyche against additional pain. Stunting the efforts to comfort her damaged soul would be disastrous.
That said, he turned on his heels and left the pair of embarrassed officers behind.
And with that, he returned to the warm comfort of his bed, never noticing the human silhouette standing on the balcony, observing him with great interest.
~OoO~
Lelouch's second waking was far more peaceful than the previous one. Like a clock crafted by expert hands, he had learnt to wake up on his own at a very precise hour, without the help of an electronic contraption. Still groggy over his sleep's untimely interruption, he started his morning ablutions and entered one of the many corridors leading to the dining room. It took him very little time to regain memory of what had taken place a few hours ago and his already dark mood didn't find itself any brighter. He could only hope something would come and cheer him up, lest a random staff member become a martyr in the following minutes.
His breakfast was frugal; he never needed the ridiculous, copious dishes the other princes loved to ingest in the morning. Years spent fighting in dangerous places had told him how to eat properly and modestly, almost ascetically. Fruits and freshly baked bread awaited his good will, complete with either tea or orange juice. That was how he kept himself from developing a larger girth, like his elder brothers. As always, a dozen, carefully selected newspapers waited on the table.
Japan continues to stall the ultimatum issued by both Britannia and the Chinese Federation, the main headline proclaimed. The small Asian nation had suddenly grown in importance in the past few years, thanks to the discovery of sakuradite ore on Mount Fuji's snow-capped slopes. As it was a paramount material in superconductivity research and development, most superpowers had promptly requested an audience with the Japanese prime minister, accompanied by countless offers of industrial partnership. So far, Japan had declined all bids, refused to take sides and opted to ride the wave of its newfound prosperity instead. This attitude, predictably, had produced an unhealthy number of disgruntled diplomats overseas. The mineral's price kept rising steadily and so far, no one had managed to win contracts with the Japanese government. Prime Minister Kururugi denied any undergoing negotiation in an official broadcast on the Mainichi network, the article continued, the editor allowing himself free reign to douse the Japanese politicians with literary flames.
The entire affair reeked of a budding crisis, Lelouch thought. It wouldn't be long before someone started to rattle his sword in front of the main island and demanded a final answer for all to hear. The Black Prince made a mental note to take a better look at the case later on. Maybe, he pondered, it was another opportunity he could use. The newest generation of Knightmare Frames needed sakuradite more than ever and Britannian industry would certainly appreciate having the Black Prince step in and broker a custom-made deal. The only problem, he knew, was that Japanese politics were far more complex than they were meant to look like. There were powers behind powers, puppets and puppeteers. And the Black Prince wasn't exactly a Britannian label of success.
A soft knock on the door jarred him from his half-reverie. His curly-haired secretary peeked in and entered the second Lelouch ushered him in.
"Good morning, Your Highness. I trust you managed to sleep well with all the noise this night?"
"Don't even remind me, Carlisle," Lelouch grumbled. "I thought they were readying for a carnival with the way they were running all over the place. While I appreciate their concern over my safety, I still need my sleep."
"Undoubtedly, Your Highness," the high-cheeked young man bowed. "I'll see whether there are arrangements that could be made to prevent such trouble in the future."
"Look into it with the First Steward, then," Lelouch waved him off. "If he can't fix this then I'll see to it that someone with better credentials takes over the assignment."
"I'll...transmit the message, Your Highness," Carlisle uneasily stuttered. The Black Prince made sure his secretary was out of the room before letting out a long, tired sigh. He had asked for a battle-hardened veteran to fill in as assistant and jack-of-all-trades, but only bumbling recruits had crowded the recruitment room. He had spent hours reading profile after profile, trying to find whoever was more fit to take up the job. Carlisle Wellington, son of a faraway count, had been his final choice - one Lelouch had nearly regretted making the second the lad had learnt the news. He had promptly broken into tears, much to the Prince's annoyance and consternation. Thankfully, over time, a myriad of older officers had joined the ranks to provide better advice and handle more delicate tasks. But Carlisle was not someone Lelouch had opted to get rid of without at least putting up a good fight; the boy, despite his bumbling nature, still showed some potential as a quick, efficient manager. But he lacked self-confidence and was too squeamish at moments to survive the ruthless world of politics without some tutoring.
It would have been simpler had either Gilford or Darlton offered to help him but they were his half-sister's Knights and no one else's. It would have been a shameful crime to shanghai them from their Lady's service.
At any rate, Cornelia was still abroad and out of reach. She had still business to fulfill in the newly annexed Area 18 and kept herself busy by flattening rebel positions with her usual vigor. He had offered her his assistance but as always, she had advised him to keep his strength for himself. While someone else would have been offended at the strangely-worded rebuke, Lelouch had silently complied, catching the hidden message behind. He had other, greater concerns to attend to and she could effortlessly take care of herself. Before she had climbed in the armored plane, she had nevertheless gratified him with a look full of pride, of relief at seeing him faring so well. It was a memory that occupied a privileged place in his nearly inaccessible heart.
It was evident that Cornelia would never replace his mother, but it didn't prevent her from holding a special part in his heart - a slot that could never be filled by anyone else. She had taken unfathomable risks by tutoring him in what was a deadly game of power and scheming. Knowing how much she admired her father and how hard it was to actually choose her brother over her sire, his admiration for her resolve grew tenfold with every passing day. Not that he hadn't expected it from her; she had always been fiercely protective of her brothers and sisters and looked out for threats to the perpetual happiness that was the protected life inside the Palace. And she wouldn't have let him become a cursed outcast if she could have helped it.
Lelouch glanced at the framed picture on the nightstand, one of the few images he kept to remember the lost halcyon days of bliss. All family members stood therein, beaming fondly at the imperial children gathered at their feet. In the very center, Marianne Lamperouge gifted the photographer with her trademark soft smile, a trait that was, alone, said to have conquered the Emperor - putting aside her legendary bravado and exceptional, flamboyant piloting skills, of course. It was for that reason that she had been named 'Empress' and not 'Imperial Wife' like the other consorts - a major difference that had earned her the wrath of the other 107 ladies of the household. How things had changed, he reflected. Kindness had been replaced by hypocrisy and egotism, blood bonds ruined beyond repair. Happiness swapped with misery and opprobrium. Trust with resentment. Adoration with hatred.
He gestured at the household's retainer to take the dishes and folded the newspapers himself, having engraved in his memory the noteworthy developments in actuality. The world was once again ablaze, as the scales of power moved on their own an umpteenth time. It seemed strange how conflicts quickly succeeded each other, as if the vacuum of violence called for more vacuum. To a philosophical eye, the endless string of battles and skirmishes seemed like a trail of dominos forever falling, one piece dropping the other in an endless fall. It was probably high time for him to return to the Army and re-hone his skills, he noted. He had loved taking part in some of Britannia's overseas expeditions and he often surprised himself at regretting the battlefields. They always offered intellectual challenges and, like a bee attracted by honey, Lelouch had predictably felt drawn to the complex world of strategy and tactics. Not to mention that piloting Knightmare Frames offered him a way to celebrate his deceased mother, as she had been a famous precursor in KF R&D.
But like every journey beginning with a simple step, learning the basics had not gone smoothly without suffering from various setbacks and difficulties.
"Why move the command posts last? What good is a king on a chessboard, if he doesn't move with the other pieces?" Lelouch sighed, about fed up with military tactics and strategies. "That certainly doesn't make sense - the commanders have to be on the frontlines to get a better understanding of the situation. How else can they truly decide what step to make?"
Cornelia closed her eyes, summoning her patience to answer the young cadet's objection to a long-established rule. Lelouch, ever since the assassination, had shown a more rebellious side of his personality, ever questioning the country's traditional pillars of thought. While it was good in that it made for more in-depth lessons and a greater comprehension of the lessons at hand, Lelouch's vehemence and systematic refusal to do things by the letter were wearing her thin. "It's practical in nature - the mobile command posts will be the first targeted by the enemy and their survival only relies on either stealth or good defenses. Moving the entire defense network takes time and coordinator, just as in chess, Lelouch."
Making analogies with chess and other games seemed to take her points across more efficiently than simply reading aloud from the Army's instruction manuals. She could already foresee her younger brother butting heads with superiors and causing scandals throughout the chain of command. No matter how, she needed to tame him as quickly as possible. But whenever Lelouch put his entire mind into something, it was hard to build a good counterbalance.
"Moreover, current technology and simulations posit that long-range strikes are the most efficient way of disrupting enemy maneuvers before a direct confrontation. As such, the centers of decision need to be moved as far from enemy reach as possible."
"I get it," Lelouch conceded, knowing it was no use dwelling on it overmuch. Cornelia was already trying to make things much easier and he didn't want to give her hard time. After all, she still had to tend to her duties and he couldn't hold her back much longer. She had meetings to attend, troops to inspect and exercises to conduct. "But I still find it impractical - what about the troops' morale? Surely, talking to them over the radio is not enough to raise their spirits and bolster them into a fighting frenzy..."
"You would be surprised," Cornelia smiled. Gilford, a few meters behind her, hid a small smile at what one could easily guess as fond memories. "Man's heart moves in shrewd ways; you just need to know the paths to it."
"Shrewd ways, eh?" Lelouch said with a truly curious look. "Any tips you can give me?"
Cornelia's laugh at his badly concealed enthusiasm rang through the room.
Control over subjects: a mind-boggling topic.
Schneizel earned adoration from his followers thanks to his good-willed manners but his harshest critics didn't waste any time disparaging his easygoing attitude, branding him weak and too lax to rightfully claim a throne erected upon a mountain of bones and blood. To Lelouch, it was all too apparent that his older half-sibling was simply busy enjoying the luster of his own youth while he still could. Things might change in a few years, though, as sacrifices would have to be made. Lelouch's childhood and teenage years, however, were already long gone. There was no time to dillydally and frolic around like a dog in heat, for he had a future to plan and protect. It was then, as he imagined the paths he'd take, that he decided to take Machiavelli's principles to heart, to rule over his subjects through fear rather than respect. But like any modus vivendi, the road to success was fraught with thorns and chasms.
It took Lelouch Vie Britannia seven long, painful years of arduous work and intensive studies under his half-sister's wing to finally regain his status and rise even higher. Nobles of the highest extraction had written him off a long time ago, their opportunistic and falsely subservient minds already seeking other objects of attention and leeching. When he had come back to the fore as a bright promising leader in the making, those who had turned their backs on him had suddenly hesitated, causing discomfort throughout the palace. The Emperor's attitude towards his children had never changed - his belligerent notions of meritocracy, however, had allowed Lelouch to erase the blackboard concerning his past deeds, but nobody had forgotten about the morning after Marianne's death and the scene in the Throne Room. Nevertheless, his exploits in Area 17 as a Special Forces Commander had forced the aristocrats to humbly acknowledge his growing valor. Those that had tried to ignore him paid for it. And dearly.
Fear over love.
It was against what Cornelia had taught him but, as she had conveniently added, whenever it touched matters of the court, there were times where the equation could be reversed, but only according to several rules. Till now, he had always abided by them, as a way to repay his elder half-sister for her generosity. In seven years, the youngster that had so far lived a normal life had grown withdrawn, cold and powerful in his own way. Piercing purple eyes as frosty as a sword's blade had stared down many opponents and even some of his older relatives, including overconfident Imperial Wives. His flourishing genius found its paradise in military affairs - as Cornelia had guessed right six years earlier. When she had seen that his lust for justice could neither be fulfilled nor tamed or replaced, she had opted to send him to the Army, with the hopes that the enforced discipline could help him gain more self-control and patience. His debut as an Imperial Cadet was shaky but things had straightened out in the long run.
It all gave birth to a different lifestyle - one that could nevertheless have driven others to madness. The original loneliness and the infamy had been terrible to cope with, and few had deigned to offer words of comfort. Only those who wished to keep Empress Marianne's memory alive had bothered to come and serve the bereaved children as generously as possible. Cornelia had contributed the most to fix the sudden dereliction of Aries Palace: she frequently brought friends and fellow knights with her, in hope that Lelouch would find something to focus on. Thankfully, even the most miserable children showed admirable resilience. Lelouch's misery had gratefully not lasted long and soon enough, he had started to come back to his senses and recover. Other relatives such as Clovis and Euphemia had frequently dropped by, returning some of the lost happiness to the empty household.
Prince Lelouch, the Fallen Heir as some had pegged him, had quickly gotten over his depression and willingly accepted Cornelia's offer to tutor him in matters of the state. It was only after a few years spent serving in the Army that she had allowed him to meet other nobles and reinsert himself in the Palace's complicated activities. His reappearance, much discussed and scoffed at, had only elicited words of opprobrium at first. But when the brooding teenager had started accomplishing exploits in Southeast Asia and Africa, opinions were forced to shift ever so slightly in his favor.
The true hour of return had tolled when he had taken charge of Baltimore and Detroit's failing finances. While there was much opposition to his interference at first, his unconventional way of spurring investment and income had caught the interest of a few field specialists. Initial disapproval turned to meek curiosity then begrudging admiration. In a matter of months, both cities had doubled their wealth and started challenging the other metropolises in terms of annual revenues.
It had taken the court only too long to realize that beneath the once foolish youngster, hid a mind of fantastic complexity and power. By the time the reinstated Black Prince had started moving his carefully-erected pieces on his imaginary chessboard, the tides of fortune were slowly flowing back. Much speculation surrounded his persona; most described him as a ruthless, pragmatist whose determination could only be equaled by his genius. Legends and hearsays wove themselves around his every action and, elicited by a hint of worry and indecision, the court had gradually decided to consider him a rising factor for the succession battle. And that was enough to secure his return to the political scene.
The second they had formally acknowledged his return was his moment of consecration, the culmination of seven years of great struggles and deep misery. The Dark Hours were finally gone but nothing bright had replaced them either. Justice, or so Lelouch believed, had still not been served.
His revenge had yet to take place.
And somehow, during his most cynical moments, he could hear, in a corner of his mind, the sound of an old, rickety clock ticking hours down.
Soon, he'd then tell himself.
Soon.
~OoO~
End of Chapter 01 Part 01.
Click here to read Part 02.