2009-03-01 05:41
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Title: The Power of the Queen
Author: the black rose
blkros
Characters/Pairings: Euphemia x Lelouch (hints of Lelouch x Euphemia, with some Suzaku x Euphemia in later chapters)
Rating: PG
Summary: Marianne reflects on the sequence of events leading up to the events in episode 23, and the role she played....
AN: The chapters of this story have all been written as a collection of Marianne's memories set mostly during Euphie and Lelouch's childhood. Chapter 4 finally catches up with events in the series and will move past episode 25, but I do ignore the events in R2 (mostly because I wrote the story before the last 2 episodes of season 1 even aired).
x-posted to
lulueuphie and
euphie_empress
Read the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2.
The Power of the Queen
by the Black Rose
Is when you're with Euphemia.
Author: the black rose
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Characters/Pairings: Euphemia x Lelouch (hints of Lelouch x Euphemia, with some Suzaku x Euphemia in later chapters)
Rating: PG
Summary: Marianne reflects on the sequence of events leading up to the events in episode 23, and the role she played....
AN: The chapters of this story have all been written as a collection of Marianne's memories set mostly during Euphie and Lelouch's childhood. Chapter 4 finally catches up with events in the series and will move past episode 25, but I do ignore the events in R2 (mostly because I wrote the story before the last 2 episodes of season 1 even aired).
x-posted to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Read the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2.
The Power of the Queen
by the Black Rose
AN: Chapter 4 will catch us up to the time of the (first) series - and episode 8 where Zero and Euphemia meet for the first time. Then, chapter 5 will weave us in and out of the events from 8-21. Chapter 5 is accompanied by a side-story, entitled "In the Days I have Left", written primarily from Lelouch's POV, and containing a Lelouch x Euphie lemon.
This chapter is Lelouch x Euphie, which means it deals with (incestuous) affection between half-siblings (who are 8 years old). As you may or may not be expecting, chapter 4 will begin to introduce Suzaku into the equation.
Thank you so incredibly much for reading, and for any reviews or comments you care to leave. Warmest regards, Rose
This chapter is Lelouch x Euphie, which means it deals with (incestuous) affection between half-siblings (who are 8 years old). As you may or may not be expecting, chapter 4 will begin to introduce Suzaku into the equation.
Thank you so incredibly much for reading, and for any reviews or comments you care to leave. Warmest regards, Rose
Chapter 3
If I believed for the first seven years of your life that you had a fondness for Euphemia, I also believed those feelings to be nothing more than a pleasing, brotherly affection. When you were eight, however, I sensed an entirely different kind of devotion beginning to take root.
I told myself your feelings were just misplaced. Children feel, with naïve passion and courage, unable to understand the difference between the types of love the human heart contains. And they understand even less, the limitations society would eventually impose upon their small, pure, hearts. After all, Nunnally thought she could marry her brother. And Bethany's niece thought she could marry her father.
Of course, these children were much younger than my eight-year-old son.
-
Euphemia twirled around in the center of the parlor room, her pink hair dancing and spinning along with her. Schneizel sat on the end of the sofa, watching quietly. A soft smile seemed to settle on his lips. I turned the knob on the faucet and glanced down at the clay-baked flower pot in the sink. I was capitalizing on Nunally's naptime to repot a favorite orchid plant.
"Schneizel, when do we go to my recital?" Euphemia didn't stop twirling as she spoke to her brother.
"We're waiting for Lelouch and Cornelia."
I looked up at the sound of my son's name – just in time to see the girl stand on tiptoe and perform another, wobbling, pirouette.
"They should hurry up!"
Schneizel chuckled. His voice sounded deep and manly, even at age sixteen. "Maybe you should sit down and save your energy for your performance."
Euphemia stopped twirling and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Come here," her brother said and patted the sofa cushion, "you can sit by me while we wait. I'm sure they'll arrive in a few minutes and then we can go."
She moved to spill rather indelicately next to her brother on the couch. "Lelouch is probably arguing with Clovis, again. I hate it when they fight."
"Well, that'll stop soon. Clovis is going away to school in August."
The corners of her mouth drooped as she lowered her head. "I'll miss him."
Schneizel placed a fond hand on the crown of his sister's hair. "Are you going to dance with your hair down?"
Euphemia huffed and crossed her arms; her pink brows contracted in the center of her forehead. "I wanted Cornelia to braid it so it would stay out of my way. But she's taking forever!"
Schneizel chuckled. "Well, if I drive, could she do your hair on the way?"
The little girl bit her lip; she seemed to puzzle over that solution. And then her entire face lit up like the sunrise. She let out a squeal and threw her arms around Schneizel's neck. I smiled and turned back to pouring organic soil into the new clay pot.
I heard a sound coming from the direction of the front door. I glanced up, hoping to greet my son. Sure enough, he stood in the doorway, wearing his school clothes with his collar unbuttoned and his books clutched to his chest. Dark hair curled around his ears. "There you—"
The textbooks dropped to the floor with a loud BANG! "Schneizel!" A voice that sounded like a roar from a large beast resounded in the room, even though it came from the tiny body of my son.
The older boy released Euphemia. She jumped to her feet; Schneizel rose to stand behind her. "Lelouch," the little girl's face brightened, "you're—"
My son stomped forward and grabbed her arm. He yanked her away from Schneizel.
"Ow," she cried and stumbled forward. I watched as my son moved to stand between Euphemia and her older brother. I placed the flower pot on the counter and began peeling off my gloves.
"Schneizel…" Lelouch glowered at his brother.
The older boy's eyebrows shot up. "I don't understand what—"
I threw my gloves into the sink and dashed around the counter into the living room. "Boys. Euphemia will be late to her recital if you don't leave, now."
Lelouch scowled in my direction, still holding on to the girl. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth had gotten into him?
"Lelouch, you wanted to go to her recital, didn't you?" I bent down to look him directly in the eyes.
He glanced at Euphemia before letting go of her arm.
I soothed pieces of my son's dark hair behind his ear. "Schneizel has offered to drive you."
Lelouch frowned.
"You can sit next to me on the way." Euphemia leaned close to him and smiled. "If Cornelia will go, I'm hoping she'll do my hair, but—"
"Do what to it?" Lelouch turned and focused on the little girl.
"I want her to braid it." Euphemia picked up the ends of her hair and combed her fingers through the loose ponytail. "It gets tangled when I dance."
"But I like it down."
I stood up. Schneizel glanced at me, but what could I say? He was my son. But, I couldn't explain his behavior. Not at all. I shrugged my shoulders and looked away.
"Are you going to brush the tangles out?" Euphemia released her hair to plant both hands on her hips – something she must have learned from watching me. I don't remember her mother ever affecting such a pose.
"Hm." Lelouch raised one hand to cover his mouth – a sign that he was considering something. His eyes had already changed; so had his posture. My son had a way of seething with his entire body: his cheeks became mottled, his face squinched up, his dark blue eyes blazed. It was a tiny, masculine version of my own features, when I was angry.
Then, in an instant, it was gone. Erased. As if something pure and gentle had washed it away – the way spring rains cleanse the air and nurture my garden. A soft smile curved his lips as he regarded this girl. Bethany's daughter.
"First, you want me to watch you dance, now I have to brush your hair? I thought I was a prince, not a servant."
She stuck her tongue at him. But I saw my son's smile widen when she took his hand. Euphemia tugged on Schneizel's arm. And the three of them left together for the recital.
If I believed for the first seven years of your life that you had a fondness for Euphemia, I also believed those feelings to be nothing more than a pleasing, brotherly affection. When you were eight, however, I sensed an entirely different kind of devotion beginning to take root.
I told myself your feelings were just misplaced. Children feel, with naïve passion and courage, unable to understand the difference between the types of love the human heart contains. And they understand even less, the limitations society would eventually impose upon their small, pure, hearts. After all, Nunnally thought she could marry her brother. And Bethany's niece thought she could marry her father.
Of course, these children were much younger than my eight-year-old son.
-
Euphemia twirled around in the center of the parlor room, her pink hair dancing and spinning along with her. Schneizel sat on the end of the sofa, watching quietly. A soft smile seemed to settle on his lips. I turned the knob on the faucet and glanced down at the clay-baked flower pot in the sink. I was capitalizing on Nunally's naptime to repot a favorite orchid plant.
"Schneizel, when do we go to my recital?" Euphemia didn't stop twirling as she spoke to her brother.
"We're waiting for Lelouch and Cornelia."
I looked up at the sound of my son's name – just in time to see the girl stand on tiptoe and perform another, wobbling, pirouette.
"They should hurry up!"
Schneizel chuckled. His voice sounded deep and manly, even at age sixteen. "Maybe you should sit down and save your energy for your performance."
Euphemia stopped twirling and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Come here," her brother said and patted the sofa cushion, "you can sit by me while we wait. I'm sure they'll arrive in a few minutes and then we can go."
She moved to spill rather indelicately next to her brother on the couch. "Lelouch is probably arguing with Clovis, again. I hate it when they fight."
"Well, that'll stop soon. Clovis is going away to school in August."
The corners of her mouth drooped as she lowered her head. "I'll miss him."
Schneizel placed a fond hand on the crown of his sister's hair. "Are you going to dance with your hair down?"
Euphemia huffed and crossed her arms; her pink brows contracted in the center of her forehead. "I wanted Cornelia to braid it so it would stay out of my way. But she's taking forever!"
Schneizel chuckled. "Well, if I drive, could she do your hair on the way?"
The little girl bit her lip; she seemed to puzzle over that solution. And then her entire face lit up like the sunrise. She let out a squeal and threw her arms around Schneizel's neck. I smiled and turned back to pouring organic soil into the new clay pot.
I heard a sound coming from the direction of the front door. I glanced up, hoping to greet my son. Sure enough, he stood in the doorway, wearing his school clothes with his collar unbuttoned and his books clutched to his chest. Dark hair curled around his ears. "There you—"
The textbooks dropped to the floor with a loud BANG! "Schneizel!" A voice that sounded like a roar from a large beast resounded in the room, even though it came from the tiny body of my son.
The older boy released Euphemia. She jumped to her feet; Schneizel rose to stand behind her. "Lelouch," the little girl's face brightened, "you're—"
My son stomped forward and grabbed her arm. He yanked her away from Schneizel.
"Ow," she cried and stumbled forward. I watched as my son moved to stand between Euphemia and her older brother. I placed the flower pot on the counter and began peeling off my gloves.
"Schneizel…" Lelouch glowered at his brother.
The older boy's eyebrows shot up. "I don't understand what—"
I threw my gloves into the sink and dashed around the counter into the living room. "Boys. Euphemia will be late to her recital if you don't leave, now."
Lelouch scowled in my direction, still holding on to the girl. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth had gotten into him?
"Lelouch, you wanted to go to her recital, didn't you?" I bent down to look him directly in the eyes.
He glanced at Euphemia before letting go of her arm.
I soothed pieces of my son's dark hair behind his ear. "Schneizel has offered to drive you."
Lelouch frowned.
"You can sit next to me on the way." Euphemia leaned close to him and smiled. "If Cornelia will go, I'm hoping she'll do my hair, but—"
"Do what to it?" Lelouch turned and focused on the little girl.
"I want her to braid it." Euphemia picked up the ends of her hair and combed her fingers through the loose ponytail. "It gets tangled when I dance."
"But I like it down."
I stood up. Schneizel glanced at me, but what could I say? He was my son. But, I couldn't explain his behavior. Not at all. I shrugged my shoulders and looked away.
"Are you going to brush the tangles out?" Euphemia released her hair to plant both hands on her hips – something she must have learned from watching me. I don't remember her mother ever affecting such a pose.
"Hm." Lelouch raised one hand to cover his mouth – a sign that he was considering something. His eyes had already changed; so had his posture. My son had a way of seething with his entire body: his cheeks became mottled, his face squinched up, his dark blue eyes blazed. It was a tiny, masculine version of my own features, when I was angry.
Then, in an instant, it was gone. Erased. As if something pure and gentle had washed it away – the way spring rains cleanse the air and nurture my garden. A soft smile curved his lips as he regarded this girl. Bethany's daughter.
"First, you want me to watch you dance, now I have to brush your hair? I thought I was a prince, not a servant."
She stuck her tongue at him. But I saw my son's smile widen when she took his hand. Euphemia tugged on Schneizel's arm. And the three of them left together for the recital.
I paced the plush, carpeted floor of my husband's office. Silence hung like a thick, damp tapestry in the middle of the room - an invisible divider. And Charles and I were always divided, though I don't know if I fully grasped just how deep our division went until that day.
After stepping the same path for what had to be several minutes (but felt like hours) - bookshelf to bookshelf, my skirt brushing the front ledge of his desk, and my stomach tying and untying itself into knots. I stopped and glared at the back of the man who took me for his wife.
I threw my arms up and expelled a loud breath. "Have you nothing to say?"
He stood with shoulders straight and stiff with his hands clasped behind his back staring out the window; gold dripped down both arms to meet the blue silk of the state uniform he wore despite the late hour.
"What do you want of me?" Charles's gravelly voice finally sounded in the room. He didn't turn around, instead he seemed to speak to the glass. "You chose to keep the girl."
"Your daughter!" I stamped my foot into the carpet. "And yes, I chose to keep her, but it doesn't seem natural for the—"
"How many children have you raised?" He pivoted and cast a sidelong glance in my direction.
"How many? Lelouch is my first child—"
"Then how do you know what's natural or not?" He returned to staring out the window.
I sighed and felt the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach begin to dissipate. "I suppose…you have a point. But what if—" The words died on my lips when Charles turned around to face me.
He raised his chin and leveled a cold stare down the line of his nose. "You object to your son, then, consorting with that woman's daughter? Even though she is the one with the higher rank."
My insides re-knotted themselves. Rank? This wasn't a matter of rank! It was common sense. "She's his half-sister, Charles. That's my objection. They have the same father, it's not—"
"There is no law against it in this family."
I felt my heart contract out of turn. "But certainly, y-y-you can't mean that." The room began to spin. "You don't? Y-y-you," I pressed a hand to my chest. It pounded like it might leap out of my ribcage and splosh onto his desk. "You wouldn't stop them?"
He snorted. "I have my reservations." Charles turned back to regard the window. "But I expect they're nothing you've considered."
"Such as?" I grasped onto the edge of the desk and lowered myself into a chair. The room continued to whirl in slow circles around me.
"Your son is the eleventh prince, seventeenth in line, as you should be aware."
"Yes…"
"Therefore, the possibility of making a powerful alliance in his position is not high. Only nobles with lower stations would set their sights on him. And he isn't close enough to the crown to accept an alliance from abroad."
His voice ebbed and flowed in the room, like water in a dream. But, this was real.
"Euphemia, however, as the third princess, she'll be sought after inside the court as well as outside the borders of Britannia."
Something clicked in my brain. I glanced up at Charles. "So, if—"
"If they insist on continuing this nonsense when they're older, I would require substantial convincing to allow your son to court Euphemia li Britannia." The emperor turned and regarded me with a haughty sneer on his lips.
"Consider that as you're wresting with your religious mores, Marianne."
-
Like I said, Charles and I were always divided. He was not someone I could understand. Despite being married to him, I don't think there were two more different people residing in the same universe. But, I suppose if it wasn't for his perspective, I might not have begun to rethink mine.
After regaining my breath and wandering home to my cottage that evening, long after the children had gone to sleep, I lay awake, reflecting on your father's words.
As horrifying as it originally seemed, I had to admit there was some part of me that did wish to see you gain position and influence within the court - something I desired, but failed to possess. And worse, I had no ability to provide it for you, even more so because I couldn't see doing my children the disservice of arranging a marriage solely for that purpose.
But if you happened to love a woman who could change your future… Could I stop you, my dearest son? Could I separate you from the person you held so dear…
And if I could, would I?
After stepping the same path for what had to be several minutes (but felt like hours) - bookshelf to bookshelf, my skirt brushing the front ledge of his desk, and my stomach tying and untying itself into knots. I stopped and glared at the back of the man who took me for his wife.
I threw my arms up and expelled a loud breath. "Have you nothing to say?"
He stood with shoulders straight and stiff with his hands clasped behind his back staring out the window; gold dripped down both arms to meet the blue silk of the state uniform he wore despite the late hour.
"What do you want of me?" Charles's gravelly voice finally sounded in the room. He didn't turn around, instead he seemed to speak to the glass. "You chose to keep the girl."
"Your daughter!" I stamped my foot into the carpet. "And yes, I chose to keep her, but it doesn't seem natural for the—"
"How many children have you raised?" He pivoted and cast a sidelong glance in my direction.
"How many? Lelouch is my first child—"
"Then how do you know what's natural or not?" He returned to staring out the window.
I sighed and felt the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach begin to dissipate. "I suppose…you have a point. But what if—" The words died on my lips when Charles turned around to face me.
He raised his chin and leveled a cold stare down the line of his nose. "You object to your son, then, consorting with that woman's daughter? Even though she is the one with the higher rank."
My insides re-knotted themselves. Rank? This wasn't a matter of rank! It was common sense. "She's his half-sister, Charles. That's my objection. They have the same father, it's not—"
"There is no law against it in this family."
I felt my heart contract out of turn. "But certainly, y-y-you can't mean that." The room began to spin. "You don't? Y-y-you," I pressed a hand to my chest. It pounded like it might leap out of my ribcage and splosh onto his desk. "You wouldn't stop them?"
He snorted. "I have my reservations." Charles turned back to regard the window. "But I expect they're nothing you've considered."
"Such as?" I grasped onto the edge of the desk and lowered myself into a chair. The room continued to whirl in slow circles around me.
"Your son is the eleventh prince, seventeenth in line, as you should be aware."
"Yes…"
"Therefore, the possibility of making a powerful alliance in his position is not high. Only nobles with lower stations would set their sights on him. And he isn't close enough to the crown to accept an alliance from abroad."
His voice ebbed and flowed in the room, like water in a dream. But, this was real.
"Euphemia, however, as the third princess, she'll be sought after inside the court as well as outside the borders of Britannia."
Something clicked in my brain. I glanced up at Charles. "So, if—"
"If they insist on continuing this nonsense when they're older, I would require substantial convincing to allow your son to court Euphemia li Britannia." The emperor turned and regarded me with a haughty sneer on his lips.
"Consider that as you're wresting with your religious mores, Marianne."
-
Like I said, Charles and I were always divided. He was not someone I could understand. Despite being married to him, I don't think there were two more different people residing in the same universe. But, I suppose if it wasn't for his perspective, I might not have begun to rethink mine.
After regaining my breath and wandering home to my cottage that evening, long after the children had gone to sleep, I lay awake, reflecting on your father's words.
As horrifying as it originally seemed, I had to admit there was some part of me that did wish to see you gain position and influence within the court - something I desired, but failed to possess. And worse, I had no ability to provide it for you, even more so because I couldn't see doing my children the disservice of arranging a marriage solely for that purpose.
But if you happened to love a woman who could change your future… Could I stop you, my dearest son? Could I separate you from the person you held so dear…
And if I could, would I?
"Lelouch!" Euphemia stood in his bedroom doorway with both hands grasping the handle of the door. My son actually glanced up from his chess match against the computer. "It's almost time for the fireworks to start."
He grunted and returned his attention to the screen.
"Lelouch!"
He frowned. "I'm busy."
She released the door handle and stepped inside the room. The little girl planted both hands on her waist. Her face crumpled. "You've been ignoring me all day."
"I'm not ignoring you," Lelouch said with a click of the mouse. "If I was ignoring you, I wouldn't speak to you." His eyes followed movement on his monitor. "I'm speaking. I'm just busy."
"But you're going to miss the fireworks!"
"They'll have them again next year."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "But I wanted to watch them with you."
Lelouch frowned at his game. "I'm sure Mother and Nunnally—"
"But I wanted to watch them with you," she whined. Her chin wobbled and I saw tears prick her eyes.
My son lifted his gaze to focus on Euphemia. She brightened. "Come with me?" The little girl held out her hand.
His lips curved into a grin. Then he rose and took her hand. A loud boom shattered the quiet of the house. Her eyes widened. "They're already starting!"
Laughing, the two children ran into the back yard, tripping over the concrete patio to spill onto the lawn. I followed, toting Nunnally in one hand – her head on my shoulder, curled up against my side - and a pitcher of koolaid in the other.
Euphemia lay on the ground next to Lelouch. My son leaned back on both elbows to stare at the sky. The little girl tugged on his sleeve.
"It's better if you lay down," she said in a loud whisper. "It's like they're right above us."
Lelouch relented, and Nunnally was quick to follow suit – lying down on the ground near her older siblings to watch the fireworks burst and shimmer overhead. The night air felt warm and humid. There wasn't much of a breeze, but the occasional whisp of air carried the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. Fireworks popped and fizzed; I could hear Nunnally gasp with delight every time a new burst of color soared through the sky.
Just before the finale began, I glanced over at my son. He was smiling and holding hands with Euphemia. I felt my heart tear, but it was lost in the roar and thunder of the fireworks. Light streaked through the night sky in a jumble of hues. They swirled and danced, then fell back to earth. When the last manmade star fizzled, Nunnally stood and threw her arms around my neck. "More mommy!" I laughed and hugged her back. Then I felt my attention drawn to the other two children.
They sat near each other, their hands intertwined. Lelouch looked down and then cast a shy glance at Euphemia. "Euphie…"
I caught my breath. His nickname for her when they were small, and he had trouble saying her name. But, he hadn't called her that in…so many years.
Euphemia turned and looked at Lelouch, she gave him a soft smile. "Yes?"
"I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."
She scooted closer to him. He held her hand even while she shifted. I don't know if she said anything, because Nunnally picked that moment to squeal in my ear. I pulled my daughter into my lap.
And caught a glimpse of my son: brushing pieces of hair from Euphemia's shoulder in a gesture that made me think of a young man in love. She leaned her head on the top of his arm.
He grunted and returned his attention to the screen.
"Lelouch!"
He frowned. "I'm busy."
She released the door handle and stepped inside the room. The little girl planted both hands on her waist. Her face crumpled. "You've been ignoring me all day."
"I'm not ignoring you," Lelouch said with a click of the mouse. "If I was ignoring you, I wouldn't speak to you." His eyes followed movement on his monitor. "I'm speaking. I'm just busy."
"But you're going to miss the fireworks!"
"They'll have them again next year."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "But I wanted to watch them with you."
Lelouch frowned at his game. "I'm sure Mother and Nunnally—"
"But I wanted to watch them with you," she whined. Her chin wobbled and I saw tears prick her eyes.
My son lifted his gaze to focus on Euphemia. She brightened. "Come with me?" The little girl held out her hand.
His lips curved into a grin. Then he rose and took her hand. A loud boom shattered the quiet of the house. Her eyes widened. "They're already starting!"
Laughing, the two children ran into the back yard, tripping over the concrete patio to spill onto the lawn. I followed, toting Nunnally in one hand – her head on my shoulder, curled up against my side - and a pitcher of koolaid in the other.
Euphemia lay on the ground next to Lelouch. My son leaned back on both elbows to stare at the sky. The little girl tugged on his sleeve.
"It's better if you lay down," she said in a loud whisper. "It's like they're right above us."
Lelouch relented, and Nunnally was quick to follow suit – lying down on the ground near her older siblings to watch the fireworks burst and shimmer overhead. The night air felt warm and humid. There wasn't much of a breeze, but the occasional whisp of air carried the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. Fireworks popped and fizzed; I could hear Nunnally gasp with delight every time a new burst of color soared through the sky.
Just before the finale began, I glanced over at my son. He was smiling and holding hands with Euphemia. I felt my heart tear, but it was lost in the roar and thunder of the fireworks. Light streaked through the night sky in a jumble of hues. They swirled and danced, then fell back to earth. When the last manmade star fizzled, Nunnally stood and threw her arms around my neck. "More mommy!" I laughed and hugged her back. Then I felt my attention drawn to the other two children.
They sat near each other, their hands intertwined. Lelouch looked down and then cast a shy glance at Euphemia. "Euphie…"
I caught my breath. His nickname for her when they were small, and he had trouble saying her name. But, he hadn't called her that in…so many years.
Euphemia turned and looked at Lelouch, she gave him a soft smile. "Yes?"
"I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."
She scooted closer to him. He held her hand even while she shifted. I don't know if she said anything, because Nunnally picked that moment to squeal in my ear. I pulled my daughter into my lap.
And caught a glimpse of my son: brushing pieces of hair from Euphemia's shoulder in a gesture that made me think of a young man in love. She leaned her head on the top of his arm.
The door lurched open. Schneizel stood on the other side, a ballerina with pink hair down to his knees lay in his arms. She clung to his neck, her face twisted in an expression of torment. One shoe on, one shoe off; her naked right ankle looked like someone had replaced the bone with a red-skinned softball. I winced and jumped from my seat. My stomach sank. The poor girl.
"She fell during practice," Schneizel greeted me. His eyebrows formed an alarmed peak over the bridge of his nose. "Where should I put her?"
"Don't put me down," Euphemia wailed. "It hurts, Schneizel."
"You can place her there, on the sofa. I'll call for the doctor." I turned away, rushing into the kitchen to retrieve the phone and place the call to Dr. Sinclair. I don't remember the conversation, only that it was necessarily short. By the time I returned to the main parlor room, Euphemia was resting flat on her back; Schneizel propped her injured leg on the arm of the couch.
He glanced at me. "Do you have some ice?"
"Oh!" My hand flew to my mouth and I spun right back around and headed straight towards the refrigerator.
"Don't go," the little girl whimpered. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Schneizel sit beside her on the sofa.
"It'll be all right." He reached down and stroked her hair.
I opened the freezer, removing the icemaker to place it on the counter. I grabbed a dish towel from the drawer next to the sink and began plucking cubes from the tray to make up a compress. And that's where I was when I heard his voice.
"Euphie?" My son whimpered. I glanced to my left in time to see him dash around the sofa and kneel beside her. "What happened?"
"I fell. My ankle just," tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. "It hurts."
"She'll be fine," Schneizel's deeper voice sounded comforting – very much like his father's (when Charles wasn't angry). "We already summoned the doctor. He'll probably want to do x-rays to make sure she didn't break anything—"
"Break? Did she have to walk—"
"Schneizel carried me."
"Schneizel…" Lelouch's voice grew louder. I ran out of ice chips and had to pull a knife from the block to chisel out more pieces.
"She probably sprained her ankle," the older boy said in a patient tone. "I don't think it's more serious than that."
"You're not a doctor! How long does the doctor take to get here?"
I turned around at the sound of my son's tirade. The knife slipped and ice jumped from the tray, spilling onto the floor. I swore under my breath as I bent down to pick up my mess.
"Lelouch, I'm okay. It hurts, but," Euphemia pleaded, "not so much you should yell."
"I'm not yelling, I just—"
"Your mother is getting some ice. That should help."
"She's not your servant."
"I didn't mean it like that, Lelouch. Why are you—"
I took my cue and brought the towel containing the ice and gave it to my son. "Here, sweetie, can you help Euphemia put this on her ankle?"
His hand hovered with the icepack over her skin and he looked at me. I smiled and gave a nod of my head. Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. Euphemia hissed. My son glanced down at her, but continued to arrange the compress around her ankle bone. When it was in place, he returned to her side. "Are you okay, Euphie?" I didn't miss the cross look he shot at Schneizel.
"It hurts. Will the doctor make it feel better?"
"Schneizel should have kept you there. The doctor would have already looked at it, by now!"
Schneizel looked at me. I gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Lelouch, can you explain why you're angry with me?" Schneizel crossed his arms and frowned at the younger prince. "I was only trying—"
"I'll go get the damned doctor!" My son jumped to his feet and stomped towards the door. I stood in his way.
"Lelouch! You won't speak that way to your brother."
"Lelouch…" Euphemia sniffled and sat up; she reached for him, catching his sleeve with the tips of her fingers. My son turned around.
"Euphie, I—"
She took his hand. "Just stay with me and it'll feel better."
"She fell during practice," Schneizel greeted me. His eyebrows formed an alarmed peak over the bridge of his nose. "Where should I put her?"
"Don't put me down," Euphemia wailed. "It hurts, Schneizel."
"You can place her there, on the sofa. I'll call for the doctor." I turned away, rushing into the kitchen to retrieve the phone and place the call to Dr. Sinclair. I don't remember the conversation, only that it was necessarily short. By the time I returned to the main parlor room, Euphemia was resting flat on her back; Schneizel propped her injured leg on the arm of the couch.
He glanced at me. "Do you have some ice?"
"Oh!" My hand flew to my mouth and I spun right back around and headed straight towards the refrigerator.
"Don't go," the little girl whimpered. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Schneizel sit beside her on the sofa.
"It'll be all right." He reached down and stroked her hair.
I opened the freezer, removing the icemaker to place it on the counter. I grabbed a dish towel from the drawer next to the sink and began plucking cubes from the tray to make up a compress. And that's where I was when I heard his voice.
"Euphie?" My son whimpered. I glanced to my left in time to see him dash around the sofa and kneel beside her. "What happened?"
"I fell. My ankle just," tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. "It hurts."
"She'll be fine," Schneizel's deeper voice sounded comforting – very much like his father's (when Charles wasn't angry). "We already summoned the doctor. He'll probably want to do x-rays to make sure she didn't break anything—"
"Break? Did she have to walk—"
"Schneizel carried me."
"Schneizel…" Lelouch's voice grew louder. I ran out of ice chips and had to pull a knife from the block to chisel out more pieces.
"She probably sprained her ankle," the older boy said in a patient tone. "I don't think it's more serious than that."
"You're not a doctor! How long does the doctor take to get here?"
I turned around at the sound of my son's tirade. The knife slipped and ice jumped from the tray, spilling onto the floor. I swore under my breath as I bent down to pick up my mess.
"Lelouch, I'm okay. It hurts, but," Euphemia pleaded, "not so much you should yell."
"I'm not yelling, I just—"
"Your mother is getting some ice. That should help."
"She's not your servant."
"I didn't mean it like that, Lelouch. Why are you—"
I took my cue and brought the towel containing the ice and gave it to my son. "Here, sweetie, can you help Euphemia put this on her ankle?"
His hand hovered with the icepack over her skin and he looked at me. I smiled and gave a nod of my head. Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. Euphemia hissed. My son glanced down at her, but continued to arrange the compress around her ankle bone. When it was in place, he returned to her side. "Are you okay, Euphie?" I didn't miss the cross look he shot at Schneizel.
"It hurts. Will the doctor make it feel better?"
"Schneizel should have kept you there. The doctor would have already looked at it, by now!"
Schneizel looked at me. I gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Lelouch, can you explain why you're angry with me?" Schneizel crossed his arms and frowned at the younger prince. "I was only trying—"
"I'll go get the damned doctor!" My son jumped to his feet and stomped towards the door. I stood in his way.
"Lelouch! You won't speak that way to your brother."
"Lelouch…" Euphemia sniffled and sat up; she reached for him, catching his sleeve with the tips of her fingers. My son turned around.
"Euphie, I—"
She took his hand. "Just stay with me and it'll feel better."
An hour later, after the doctor had come and gone…
-
I remembered the ice maker I had left out on the counter and settled on cleaning up my kitchen. I wasn't surprised when Schneizel followed me. I could guess at what he wanted to say. "He's very protective of her."
"So I see. I just don't understand," Schneizel ran a hand through his blond hair, "I can't seem to do right by him," he said from his position in the center of my kitchen.
"I don't think it's you personally." I poured the half-melted cubes and water into the sink. "He gets along with you better than he does Clovis. I would say it's," I glanced at him over my shoulder, "no offense, something to do with feeling competitive against his older brothers, but he gets the same way around Cornelia."
Schneizel crossed the short distance to lean against the counter next to the sink. "He's a very intelligent child. Just, I…"
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want him to see what I knew would be written all over my face - that I believed my son was in love with his sister. "Yes?" I kept my gaze focused on the ice tray in the sink and hoped he couldn't tell my heart was pounding in my throat.
"If you'll forgive me, Marianne. I heard his tutor remark that Lelouch can be difficult at times."
I sighed and felt like sagging to the floor. "Yes, he can be." I stopped fussing over the icemaker. I turned towards Schneizel and smiled. "But I truly believe his heart is…." I couldn't finish the sentence as a flash of my son's face, smiling at Euphemia under the stars, came into my mind.
"I'm not suggesting he doesn't have a good heart. You can see it in the way he cares for her."
-
"Euphie…I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."
-
"Yes," my shoulders dropped at the same time my heart fell into my stomach.
"He can be very gentle," Schneizel crossed his arms, "when it comes to her."
-
Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. "Are you okay, Euphie?"
-
I cleared my throat. "H-he has been known to get angry with her, and yell. But Euphemia…"
-
"Are you going to brush the tangles out?"
-
"Well, she knows exactly how to handle him." I let my gaze drift to the floor. "It's almost like he doesn't really smile, unless— "
-
"I love him," she said and then took off down the hallway.
-
I pressed a hand to my mouth. "Oh." I glanced up at Schneizel. "I-I'm sure it's just because they're so close in age."
"Yes. And I'm happy for them." The corners of his mouth turned up, but his eyes didn't change. And I didn't think his expression looked happy. Just…sad. Or wistful, perhaps.
"Marianne? Is," he frowned, "is something troubling you?"
"N-no. Of course not." I picked the icemaker out of the sink and opened the freezer door.
-
"Mother, what will happen to Euphemia? Clovis and Schneizel both said father will send her away."
"Your father wouldn't—"
"He would! You know he would!"
-
"Well, I'll take my leave, now. My mother is expecting me for dinner."
"Y-yes. Of course." I gave him a quick nod and a smile while I finished settling the ice tray where it belonged. I shut the door to the freezer, and stared at it.
-
"Mother, I-I want to save her and I can't."
-
"Are you sure everything is all right?"
"I'm fine. I was just," I shook my head, "struck with a strange thought. It's nothing."
"Good evening, then." The prince bowed his head before turning to go.
-
I remember that exact conversation. I remembered it so many years later…
I remembered thinking of you, kneeling beside a broken ballerina…picturing the way you smiled at her, the gentle way you took her hand. And it occurred to me, then, as it did a few months ago - when you met her again for the first time in more than seven years.
The only time the rest of us see your true heart, Lelouch…
-
I remembered the ice maker I had left out on the counter and settled on cleaning up my kitchen. I wasn't surprised when Schneizel followed me. I could guess at what he wanted to say. "He's very protective of her."
"So I see. I just don't understand," Schneizel ran a hand through his blond hair, "I can't seem to do right by him," he said from his position in the center of my kitchen.
"I don't think it's you personally." I poured the half-melted cubes and water into the sink. "He gets along with you better than he does Clovis. I would say it's," I glanced at him over my shoulder, "no offense, something to do with feeling competitive against his older brothers, but he gets the same way around Cornelia."
Schneizel crossed the short distance to lean against the counter next to the sink. "He's a very intelligent child. Just, I…"
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want him to see what I knew would be written all over my face - that I believed my son was in love with his sister. "Yes?" I kept my gaze focused on the ice tray in the sink and hoped he couldn't tell my heart was pounding in my throat.
"If you'll forgive me, Marianne. I heard his tutor remark that Lelouch can be difficult at times."
I sighed and felt like sagging to the floor. "Yes, he can be." I stopped fussing over the icemaker. I turned towards Schneizel and smiled. "But I truly believe his heart is…." I couldn't finish the sentence as a flash of my son's face, smiling at Euphemia under the stars, came into my mind.
"I'm not suggesting he doesn't have a good heart. You can see it in the way he cares for her."
-
"Euphie…I-I liked watching you dance. At your recital. Thank you for inviting me."
-
"Yes," my shoulders dropped at the same time my heart fell into my stomach.
"He can be very gentle," Schneizel crossed his arms, "when it comes to her."
-
Lelouch settled the ice on top of her foot. "Are you okay, Euphie?"
-
I cleared my throat. "H-he has been known to get angry with her, and yell. But Euphemia…"
-
"Are you going to brush the tangles out?"
-
"Well, she knows exactly how to handle him." I let my gaze drift to the floor. "It's almost like he doesn't really smile, unless— "
-
"I love him," she said and then took off down the hallway.
-
I pressed a hand to my mouth. "Oh." I glanced up at Schneizel. "I-I'm sure it's just because they're so close in age."
"Yes. And I'm happy for them." The corners of his mouth turned up, but his eyes didn't change. And I didn't think his expression looked happy. Just…sad. Or wistful, perhaps.
"Marianne? Is," he frowned, "is something troubling you?"
"N-no. Of course not." I picked the icemaker out of the sink and opened the freezer door.
-
"Mother, what will happen to Euphemia? Clovis and Schneizel both said father will send her away."
"Your father wouldn't—"
"He would! You know he would!"
-
"Well, I'll take my leave, now. My mother is expecting me for dinner."
"Y-yes. Of course." I gave him a quick nod and a smile while I finished settling the ice tray where it belonged. I shut the door to the freezer, and stared at it.
-
"Mother, I-I want to save her and I can't."
-
"Are you sure everything is all right?"
"I'm fine. I was just," I shook my head, "struck with a strange thought. It's nothing."
"Good evening, then." The prince bowed his head before turning to go.
-
I remember that exact conversation. I remembered it so many years later…
I remembered thinking of you, kneeling beside a broken ballerina…picturing the way you smiled at her, the gentle way you took her hand. And it occurred to me, then, as it did a few months ago - when you met her again for the first time in more than seven years.
The only time the rest of us see your true heart, Lelouch…
Is when you're with Euphemia.
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Oh! A new chap up!