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plotdevicedTitle: Good Knight, Sweet Princess
Fandom: Code Geass
Written: Oct 24, 2009
Word Count: 1898
Summary: Kururugi Suzaku was not the original Knight of the Third Princess, Euphemia li Britannia.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Finished at 4AM. Title is a play on the phrase from Shakespeare's Hamlet, "Goodnight, sweet Prince" which is more often used to refer to the passing of a loved one. Comments would be loved if you enjoy the fic. :)
---
Although he was the first to be formally recognized for the position, Kururugi Suzaku was not the original Knight of the Third Princess, Euphemia li Britannia. She had already given her blessing of knighthood away years prior, in the sanctuary of the sprawling Imperial Palace grounds, although she never told anyone.
Cornelia was studying at the glass-and-gilt topped lounge table, one finely-booted leg hooked over another and a heavy tome open in her lap. She looked older than eleven years and, Euphemia thought, much too serious and scowling for such a glorious day. "What's wrong, big sister?" she said, brushing a strand of grass from her cream-coloured skirt. "Why are you making that face?"
Cornelia glanced up from the tome; its binding read, The Glorious Conquests of The Holy Empire of Britannia on the binding and Euphemia knew that she was reading about war. She read almost as much about war her elder brother Schneizel did, and that was a lot. However Cornelia's face softened imperceptibly as she looked at her younger sister. "I don't like my Knight," she said finally.
"Guilford?" Euphie repeated, her pert nose scrunching up as she tried to recall his full name. "Why? I thought you wanted him to be your Knight."
"He's a good Knight," Cornelia said quickly, as though fending off the unspoken implication that she had made an error in judgment by choosing him -- not that Euphemia could conceive the idea that Cornelia would make a poor decision. "But he's... always following me."
"Isn't he supposed to?" Euphemia asked, perplexed. Having a Knight had always seemed like such an important and grown-up thing, and when she'd learned that Cornelia had been given permission from the Emperor to choose one she'd been thrilled upon her sister's behalf. It had never occurred to her that a Knight might be less desirable once dedicated to her. It cast a small shadow of doubt upon her recent daydreaming of gallant protectors in full dress uniform, their faces shadowed except for their mysterious smiles.
Her sister's expression was pained. "Yes," she said. "But he wants to do everything for me, like he thinks I'm not able to do them myself! It's annoying. Guinevere would like it, but I don't."
Euphie laughed a bit. Cornelia always wanted to do everything by herself, having disdained even her handmaids' offers to dress her in complicated corsets since Euphemia was just a toddler. "I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it," she said. "He's probably just being nice!"
Cornelia lifted her chin imperiously, although a faint tinge had decorated her angular cheeks; apparently Guilford had not made as poor an impression as she'd let on. "You'd better find a good Knight, Euphie. I won't let you choose someone who won't do anything for you."
Euphie flushed. "I will, sister. I will."
♞ ♞ ♞
Euphie's fascination with Knights didn't slake after her sister's cautionary review, but she did push the daydreams away as more important matters came forward. There were changes being made in the Imperial Palace under the Emperor's watchful eye. Odysseus was announced to be betrothed to one of the heretic queens of the Isles, a political move designed to initiate a treaty with the EU, currently Britannia's chief opposition to global dominance. The Imperial Palace was electrified at the news, whispers in the corridors speculating about the Emperor's new tactic whereas supreme military force had always been his method of choice.
The queen, who Euphemia would distantly recall later as having the name Yseult (which the Emperor forbade her to use, and ordered her to be known instead as Isolde, a much more civilized name) came with a substantial dowry but no escorts or servants. She mostly kept to herself in her chambers, although Cornelia confided that she was rather plain looking with black hair and closely set eyes.
Euphie's dreams of Knights were temporarily replaced by visions of weddings, beautiful bridal gowns and week-long parties to celebrate the happy marriage. These childish fantasies were shattered when they found Isolde dead in one of the hallways with Bismarck Waldstein standing over her body. He had caught her plotting to poison Odysseus, he claimed, and slew her when she attacked him. The maids who had overheard Bismark trying to coerce her to perform a lewd act never spoke up, and the incident was written off as more Euro Universe's treachery. Odysseus never completely trusted women after that and it was many more years before the Emperor considered another treaty marriage for him.
Out of the entire scandal, Euphemia most vividly remembered the Emperor striding down the hallway to the scene and congratulating Bismark for being, "a true and vigilant knight, worthy of Britannia's highest honours" while Isolde's blood dripped from his sword like crimson tears.
♞ ♞ ♞
After that Euphemia put her away her dreams about Knights until one day the Empress Marianne sent Lelouch to the gardens where the rose-haired princess was enjoying the sunshine. "Hello Euphie," he said; he and Cornelia and Nunnally were the only ones who called her that. She noticed that he was wearing a new jacket and thought it looked very good on him -- but then Lelouch had always been fastidious, and she couldn't remember him ever looking rumpled. She liked that about him.
"Hello Lelouch," she replied. "Where's Nunnally?"
He frowned a bit. "Mother said she was to stay indoors today. She hasn't been feeling well. But it's nice outside, I think she would have been fine."
Euphemia thought it was odd as well; the day was gentle and warm, surely no threat to Nunnally's health. But knowing that Lelouch disliked being separated from his sister, she offered, "Would you take a walk with me?"
He nodded and, as had been dictated by his etiquette teachers, offered her his arm. She blushed a little as she slid her hand through the space and they headed down the marble pathway. "You've become such a gentleman," she said. "Did Empress Marianne say how long you'd be staying this time?"
Lelouch shrugged, then realized that was an inappropriate response to such a direct inquiry and added, "Unfortunately not. Probably a few days at least."
"I'm glad," she said softly, and he looked away although she could tell that he was pleased. "Will you come and visit me after lessons? You were so very gallant last time, trying to convince General Dormman that you urgently needed to interrupt his lecture for my protection."
"Gallant like a Knight?" he said wryly.
Euphemia stopped, her gaze sliding down and away to the side of the path -- yet Lelouch knew she was not admiring the carefully landscaped roses. "You're not anything like a Knight, Lelouch," she said. "I'm not even sure I'd like one, when I'm older."
"You're a Royal Princess, Euphie," Lelouch said, waiting until she began walking again. "You'll need a Knight, eventually. If you're worried about getting a bad one, I could be your Knight."
That made her laugh, and she would always admire his ability to make her feel better. "Oh Lelouch! You're part of the Royal Line, you can't be both. Besides, wouldn't you rather be a Prince than a Knight?"
Lelouch stopped, his violet orbs piercing her. "No," he said solemnly. "A Prince's only purpose is to be useful to Britannia. A Knight's duty is to serve their Lord or Lady. It means so much more than being one of Father's puppets."
She shushed him quickly, although she didn't believe anyone was around to hear such dangerous words. Yet his words, bold in their statement but genuine in their fierceness, made her pause. Perhaps Lelouch knew the true calling of Knighthood, and was better suited to that than princedom. She felt her cheeks heat up, their hue matching that of her rosy hair. "You would make a good Knight, Lelouch. I believe that."
She was not prepared for him to drop to one knee however, and look up at her. "Then go ahead and make me your Knight," he said, his tone making it almost a challenge. "And I'll protect you and Nunnally forever."
Now quite red in the face, Euphemia stammered, "B-But this isn't how it's normally... that is, Cornelia said that the Emperor has to..." The rest of her sentence would not come and looking down at him, Euphie felt her heartbeat quicken. Lelouch looked so determined that she could not deny him and searched her mind for some words appropriate for the event. "Very well. Ah... I, Euphemia li Britannia, do hereby make thee, Lelouch vi Britannia, my Knight."
Lelouch smiled and rose to his feet. "Thank you, Euphie," he said. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," she replied, now completely certain her blush would never fade. "I believe in you."
And she did.
♞ ♞ ♞
"Damned savages," Guinevere sniffed, watching the live video feed of the skirmishes in Area 11. "They should be grateful to mighty Britannia for sparing their miserable lives and bringing them true civilization. Instead they resist and we have to crush them under heel."
Euphemia had her eyes on her writing, not wanting to watch the carnage so flagrantly carried by the news channels. Sensing that the other princess was not being an adequate audience, Guinevere prompted, "Isn't that right, Euphemia? Take a look there. Some masked idiot calling himself Zero is leading a rabble calling themselves the Black Knights. Have you ever seen something so ridiculous..."
"It's very inappropriate," Euphie murmured, sounding as noncommittal as she could manage. Silently she added, If Lelouch were there, he would make them stop. Lelouch would never allow such people to be called knights.
♞ ♞ ♞
On Kamine Island, she made herself forget those words when she discovered that Lelouch and Zero were one and the same.
♞ ♞ ♞
"Thank you," Suzaku whispered, as he took his place behind her in the ringing silence following her formal acceptance of him as her Knight. His eyes blazed with the same dedication she had seen since the day they'd met, and Euphemia remembered Cornelia's words and how she had defended her choice of Guilford. "He's a good Knight."
Lelouch would understand, she thought. He said I'd need a Knight one day, and princes can't be princes and knights both.
The former had been stripped from Lelouch by the Emperor, but Euphie had to bear the sadness of knowing that she had taken the other from him. She vowed to give him something back, something that he could form into a kingdom of his own, and in her mind the first seed of the Special Administrative Zone of Japan took root.
♞ ♞ ♞
As the beeping machines tried desperately to prolong her fading life, Euphemia looked up with misty eyes at the person by her bedside. "Were they... happy?"
Through his tears, Suzaku assured her that the SAZ had been a marvelous success, and that the Japanese people were overjoyed with their new home. As she drifted away Euphemia could not find the strength to clarify that she had meant Lelouch and Nunnally, although she was glad for the Japanese people too.
I hope I was a good Lady for you, my Knight, she thought as the world went dark; she would never remember to which of her two Knights she meant it for.
Fandom: Code Geass
Written: Oct 24, 2009
Word Count: 1898
Summary: Kururugi Suzaku was not the original Knight of the Third Princess, Euphemia li Britannia.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Finished at 4AM. Title is a play on the phrase from Shakespeare's Hamlet, "Goodnight, sweet Prince" which is more often used to refer to the passing of a loved one. Comments would be loved if you enjoy the fic. :)
---
Although he was the first to be formally recognized for the position, Kururugi Suzaku was not the original Knight of the Third Princess, Euphemia li Britannia. She had already given her blessing of knighthood away years prior, in the sanctuary of the sprawling Imperial Palace grounds, although she never told anyone.
Cornelia was studying at the glass-and-gilt topped lounge table, one finely-booted leg hooked over another and a heavy tome open in her lap. She looked older than eleven years and, Euphemia thought, much too serious and scowling for such a glorious day. "What's wrong, big sister?" she said, brushing a strand of grass from her cream-coloured skirt. "Why are you making that face?"
Cornelia glanced up from the tome; its binding read, The Glorious Conquests of The Holy Empire of Britannia on the binding and Euphemia knew that she was reading about war. She read almost as much about war her elder brother Schneizel did, and that was a lot. However Cornelia's face softened imperceptibly as she looked at her younger sister. "I don't like my Knight," she said finally.
"Guilford?" Euphie repeated, her pert nose scrunching up as she tried to recall his full name. "Why? I thought you wanted him to be your Knight."
"He's a good Knight," Cornelia said quickly, as though fending off the unspoken implication that she had made an error in judgment by choosing him -- not that Euphemia could conceive the idea that Cornelia would make a poor decision. "But he's... always following me."
"Isn't he supposed to?" Euphemia asked, perplexed. Having a Knight had always seemed like such an important and grown-up thing, and when she'd learned that Cornelia had been given permission from the Emperor to choose one she'd been thrilled upon her sister's behalf. It had never occurred to her that a Knight might be less desirable once dedicated to her. It cast a small shadow of doubt upon her recent daydreaming of gallant protectors in full dress uniform, their faces shadowed except for their mysterious smiles.
Her sister's expression was pained. "Yes," she said. "But he wants to do everything for me, like he thinks I'm not able to do them myself! It's annoying. Guinevere would like it, but I don't."
Euphie laughed a bit. Cornelia always wanted to do everything by herself, having disdained even her handmaids' offers to dress her in complicated corsets since Euphemia was just a toddler. "I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it," she said. "He's probably just being nice!"
Cornelia lifted her chin imperiously, although a faint tinge had decorated her angular cheeks; apparently Guilford had not made as poor an impression as she'd let on. "You'd better find a good Knight, Euphie. I won't let you choose someone who won't do anything for you."
Euphie flushed. "I will, sister. I will."
Euphie's fascination with Knights didn't slake after her sister's cautionary review, but she did push the daydreams away as more important matters came forward. There were changes being made in the Imperial Palace under the Emperor's watchful eye. Odysseus was announced to be betrothed to one of the heretic queens of the Isles, a political move designed to initiate a treaty with the EU, currently Britannia's chief opposition to global dominance. The Imperial Palace was electrified at the news, whispers in the corridors speculating about the Emperor's new tactic whereas supreme military force had always been his method of choice.
The queen, who Euphemia would distantly recall later as having the name Yseult (which the Emperor forbade her to use, and ordered her to be known instead as Isolde, a much more civilized name) came with a substantial dowry but no escorts or servants. She mostly kept to herself in her chambers, although Cornelia confided that she was rather plain looking with black hair and closely set eyes.
Euphie's dreams of Knights were temporarily replaced by visions of weddings, beautiful bridal gowns and week-long parties to celebrate the happy marriage. These childish fantasies were shattered when they found Isolde dead in one of the hallways with Bismarck Waldstein standing over her body. He had caught her plotting to poison Odysseus, he claimed, and slew her when she attacked him. The maids who had overheard Bismark trying to coerce her to perform a lewd act never spoke up, and the incident was written off as more Euro Universe's treachery. Odysseus never completely trusted women after that and it was many more years before the Emperor considered another treaty marriage for him.
Out of the entire scandal, Euphemia most vividly remembered the Emperor striding down the hallway to the scene and congratulating Bismark for being, "a true and vigilant knight, worthy of Britannia's highest honours" while Isolde's blood dripped from his sword like crimson tears.
After that Euphemia put her away her dreams about Knights until one day the Empress Marianne sent Lelouch to the gardens where the rose-haired princess was enjoying the sunshine. "Hello Euphie," he said; he and Cornelia and Nunnally were the only ones who called her that. She noticed that he was wearing a new jacket and thought it looked very good on him -- but then Lelouch had always been fastidious, and she couldn't remember him ever looking rumpled. She liked that about him.
"Hello Lelouch," she replied. "Where's Nunnally?"
He frowned a bit. "Mother said she was to stay indoors today. She hasn't been feeling well. But it's nice outside, I think she would have been fine."
Euphemia thought it was odd as well; the day was gentle and warm, surely no threat to Nunnally's health. But knowing that Lelouch disliked being separated from his sister, she offered, "Would you take a walk with me?"
He nodded and, as had been dictated by his etiquette teachers, offered her his arm. She blushed a little as she slid her hand through the space and they headed down the marble pathway. "You've become such a gentleman," she said. "Did Empress Marianne say how long you'd be staying this time?"
Lelouch shrugged, then realized that was an inappropriate response to such a direct inquiry and added, "Unfortunately not. Probably a few days at least."
"I'm glad," she said softly, and he looked away although she could tell that he was pleased. "Will you come and visit me after lessons? You were so very gallant last time, trying to convince General Dormman that you urgently needed to interrupt his lecture for my protection."
"Gallant like a Knight?" he said wryly.
Euphemia stopped, her gaze sliding down and away to the side of the path -- yet Lelouch knew she was not admiring the carefully landscaped roses. "You're not anything like a Knight, Lelouch," she said. "I'm not even sure I'd like one, when I'm older."
"You're a Royal Princess, Euphie," Lelouch said, waiting until she began walking again. "You'll need a Knight, eventually. If you're worried about getting a bad one, I could be your Knight."
That made her laugh, and she would always admire his ability to make her feel better. "Oh Lelouch! You're part of the Royal Line, you can't be both. Besides, wouldn't you rather be a Prince than a Knight?"
Lelouch stopped, his violet orbs piercing her. "No," he said solemnly. "A Prince's only purpose is to be useful to Britannia. A Knight's duty is to serve their Lord or Lady. It means so much more than being one of Father's puppets."
She shushed him quickly, although she didn't believe anyone was around to hear such dangerous words. Yet his words, bold in their statement but genuine in their fierceness, made her pause. Perhaps Lelouch knew the true calling of Knighthood, and was better suited to that than princedom. She felt her cheeks heat up, their hue matching that of her rosy hair. "You would make a good Knight, Lelouch. I believe that."
She was not prepared for him to drop to one knee however, and look up at her. "Then go ahead and make me your Knight," he said, his tone making it almost a challenge. "And I'll protect you and Nunnally forever."
Now quite red in the face, Euphemia stammered, "B-But this isn't how it's normally... that is, Cornelia said that the Emperor has to..." The rest of her sentence would not come and looking down at him, Euphie felt her heartbeat quicken. Lelouch looked so determined that she could not deny him and searched her mind for some words appropriate for the event. "Very well. Ah... I, Euphemia li Britannia, do hereby make thee, Lelouch vi Britannia, my Knight."
Lelouch smiled and rose to his feet. "Thank you, Euphie," he said. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," she replied, now completely certain her blush would never fade. "I believe in you."
And she did.
"Damned savages," Guinevere sniffed, watching the live video feed of the skirmishes in Area 11. "They should be grateful to mighty Britannia for sparing their miserable lives and bringing them true civilization. Instead they resist and we have to crush them under heel."
Euphemia had her eyes on her writing, not wanting to watch the carnage so flagrantly carried by the news channels. Sensing that the other princess was not being an adequate audience, Guinevere prompted, "Isn't that right, Euphemia? Take a look there. Some masked idiot calling himself Zero is leading a rabble calling themselves the Black Knights. Have you ever seen something so ridiculous..."
"It's very inappropriate," Euphie murmured, sounding as noncommittal as she could manage. Silently she added, If Lelouch were there, he would make them stop. Lelouch would never allow such people to be called knights.
On Kamine Island, she made herself forget those words when she discovered that Lelouch and Zero were one and the same.
"Thank you," Suzaku whispered, as he took his place behind her in the ringing silence following her formal acceptance of him as her Knight. His eyes blazed with the same dedication she had seen since the day they'd met, and Euphemia remembered Cornelia's words and how she had defended her choice of Guilford. "He's a good Knight."
Lelouch would understand, she thought. He said I'd need a Knight one day, and princes can't be princes and knights both.
The former had been stripped from Lelouch by the Emperor, but Euphie had to bear the sadness of knowing that she had taken the other from him. She vowed to give him something back, something that he could form into a kingdom of his own, and in her mind the first seed of the Special Administrative Zone of Japan took root.
As the beeping machines tried desperately to prolong her fading life, Euphemia looked up with misty eyes at the person by her bedside. "Were they... happy?"
Through his tears, Suzaku assured her that the SAZ had been a marvelous success, and that the Japanese people were overjoyed with their new home. As she drifted away Euphemia could not find the strength to clarify that she had meant Lelouch and Nunnally, although she was glad for the Japanese people too.
I hope I was a good Lady for you, my Knight, she thought as the world went dark; she would never remember to which of her two Knights she meant it for.
Fin.
