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Lelouch awakens in the deepest, loneliest part of the night; habit-forming, inescapable, as the time draws ever closer. He’s always uncomfortable, unable to sleep for long, both body and mind heavy, on edge. He lies still for a long moment, listening to Suzaku sound asleep next to him, to the gentle rise and lull of his breath.
He sits up, bracing himself against the headboard to get the leverage. He’s still not used to the extra weight, his slender body not built for it. At least there’s not much movement tonight. He puts his hand to the bump, looking down at his knight with envy. Suzaku is sprawled on his stomach, sleeping peacefully, oblivious. Lelouch grouchily considers smacking his bare back for a moment before reeling in the spite. It’s not Suzaku’s fault.
…Well. It is. Kind of. Fifty per cent.
He gets out of bed with as much ease and grace as he can muster, pulling his robe around him. He leaves the room quietly, rubbing the ache at his lower back. He doesn’t really know where he’s going, just that he doesn’t want to lie down anymore. At eight months, he’s restless, exhausted, ready for it to be over. Pregnancy has thus far been a miserable affair but it’ll be worth it, he tells himself daily, nightly, talking himself into it. This wretched experience will all be worth it. The child at the end of it, the heir to the throne of the Holy Britannia Empire, will be half-Japanese. What better way to cement their legacy, every Unholy thing that they’ve done to get this far. The bloodshed will end with the literal birth of a new world.
This was, of course, not Lelouch’s original plan when seizing the throne. He’d planned to become a tyrant, drawing the hatred of the world onto himself, and then have Suzaku slay him under the guise of Zero. It had all been going well until the bouts of morning sickness so severe that he was no use until mid-afternoon, that left him so weak and exhausted that Suzaku and C.C. insisted on him seeing a doctor. One doctor became two, three, four, Lelouch seeking second opinions when they all gave him the same sudden, ridiculous, most unwelcome news: You’re pregnant, Your Majesty. His own investigation (twelve different brands of pregnancy test lined up along the bathroom windowsill) unfortunately yielded the same results, forcing him to accept reality: that he - Demon Emperor, formerly Zero - had been knocked up by his own knight. All his disbelieving rants about how absolutely impossible it all was changed nothing. This was something he hadn’t considered, hadn’t prepared for, had absolutely no strategy for dealing with whatsoever.
Suzaku - as expected - outright refused to continue with the plan for the Zero Requiem. Lelouch didn’t blame him. The conditions, after all, had changed. C.C. made it quite clear that she, too, would take no part in murdering him. He didn’t think it was necessarily that they valued the baby above his wishes; no, rather, something about it, the suddenness of it, the unexpected tiny spark of life burning amidst all the bodies… It had changed them, all of them. There was perhaps another way. There was hope.
It hasn’t been easy to undo the beginnings of the reputation he’d begun to build for himself. He knows the UFN are still mistrustful, especially with Britannia holding a majority voting bloc; however, the very public destruction of the Damocles Fortress, sending it into space to be broken up, certainly worked its charm, as has the pardoning of the Black Knights and surviving Rounds who rebelled against him in the decisive battle. His perceived grace in such matters has put his dissenters in an awkward position, forcing their compliance, and Schneizel, under Geass, can no longer plot against him. His original plan had been cleaner, tying up loose ends more neatly, but he’s nothing if not capable of thinking on his feet. Suzaku is the one who won’t comply with anything but his survival and Suzaku is the one he needs the most. He can’t do this - any of this - without him.
As for his… condition, it hasn’t been officially announced but it’s not exactly a secret. He supposes his slim build doesn’t do him any favours, making it obvious, and of course people talk. There is no dispute as to who the father is. The Eleven. His knight. Who else? He’s sure they say plenty more in places where he can’t hear them, although he hasn’t got the time or patience to chase up such petty grievances. For now, entering the final month of pregnancy, he has all but retreated from public view, sending Jeremiah in his stead, and conducts all decisions from his office at the Imperial Villa in Tokyo. He’s already decided that the baby will - and must - be born in Japan. With regard to the minor issue of legitimacy, Suzaku is still in his official capacity as his knight but they’ve filed paperwork, privately, that declares them legally married. Neither of them had wanted any sort of public ceremony and Suzaku flatly turned down a title beyond the rank of Knight of Zero. Lelouch understands this and doesn’t push the issue. This is all very sudden for the both of them, after all. It’s enough for him that Suzaku has agreed to choose a Japanese name for their child.
Their child. Still it seems unreal at times, a fantasy conjured by desperation, cowardice, regret. He expects to wake and find himself empty; but instead it lasts, miraculous, promise growing within him. He and Suzaku had vowed to change this rotten world together, destroyer and creator. He was not meant to live to see it, burdening Suzaku with both of their sins. Now he is the one burdened, weighed down with original sin. If this is his punishment, he knows that bearing one life will not replace all the ones he has taken.
He eases himself onto the windowsill at the end of the hall, drawing his legs up as best he can. This window overlooks the splendid grounds so closely modelled after the gardens of the Aries Villa, the favourite haunt of his own mother. The happiest memories of his childhood were spent there with Nunnally and Euphy - now marred by Marianne, her presence, her indifference. He wonders if that is what has drawn him back here, to the closest thing he can find. Pendragon is gone and so are his sisters, all his past swallowed up as a casualty of war. He knows they chose the future.
Exhaling, he presses his forehead to the glass, gazing out over the still silvery gardens. It’s almost spring, the cherry trees beginning to bloom. The blazing scarlet of his irises reflects back at him like twin blood moons. C.C., who he hasn’t seen for days, has been non-commital about the effect of permanent Geass on the unborn. Frankly she doesn’t know and he doesn’t expect her to, nor does he really expect the child to be born possessing any power. However, he’s aware that it’s not completely out of the question, either, given the… well, circumstances. There’s so much they don’t understand about it, the records destroyed alongside the Geass Order at his own command. Not one of his smartest moves, in retrospect…
He’s half-asleep, drifting in and out of wakefulness, when he feels Suzaku’s hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, turning his face towards him.
“Mm… hello…”
“Why are you out here?” Suzaku’s brow is creased in concern. “Are you okay? It’s not… time, is it?”
Lelouch smiles at him. “No, stupid. Still a few weeks. You know that.”
Suzaku sniffs, sitting on the windowsill next to him. “Could come early. You are getting pretty big.”
“Tactful as always, I see.” Lelouch shifts. “Just uncomfortable. I didn’t want to wake you. Looks like I did anyway.”
“I noticed you were gone.” Suzaku puts his arm around him, pulling him against him. “Anything I can do for you? Want me to make you some tea?”
“No, I’m fine,” Lelouch sighs. He reaches to rub at the small of his back again. “Just achey, that’s all.”
“I’m not surprised.” Suzaku’s strong broad hand starts to circle at his sore spine, too. “You’re, uh, not really built for this, huh.”
“One might say that, yes.”
“I’ll run you a bath.” Suzaku gets up. “That will help with the ache.”
He scampers away without giving Lelouch much chance to answer - not that a nice hot bath sounds unwelcome. He can already hear him running the taps. He eases himself off the sill, cradling his belly to take some of the weight off his back as he slowly makes his way after Suzaku. The bathroom of their suite is right off their bedroom, all clean white tile and delicate golden accents, and it’s already filled with steam by the time he gets to the doorway. The bath isn’t a traditional sort, rather some fanciful luxurious experience designed by Clovis: a deep square pool, set into a raised platform, with an underwater bench around the edge. Lelouch had initially scoffed at it as ridiculous, avoiding it, but these past few months he has to admit - begrudgingly - that it has become invaluable in easing his strained back and swollen ankles.
Suzaku comes to him, gently guiding him across the tiles and up the shallow steps. He carefully helps him undress, undoing the buttons of his pyjamas, the same ones he did up for him only hours before. Suzaku is the only person Lelouch will allow to help him, the only person he’ll be vulnerable in front of. Even then, it’s a little humiliating that he can’t reach anymore. He’s always taken pride in his figure and watching it stretch and warp before his very eyes has been humbling. It took him a long time to be completely comfortable being naked in front of Suzaku and now… well, all he can say is that he’s glad that Suzaku worships his body exactly as he did before. Nonetheless, it’s still embarrassing when his pyjamas drop to the tiles and he’s absolutely bare, his swollen belly exposed. It’s an effort not to snatch up the nearest towel to cover himself. Suzaku, perhaps sensing this, leans in and kisses him on the cheek; then, slowly, he goes onto one knee, pressing a kiss to his stomach. Lelouch puts his hand on his head, stroking his curls. He knows this hasn’t been easy for Suzaku, either.
Suzaku helps him into the bath, shucking his own underwear and climbing in behind him. Lelouch takes a deep breath and sinks under completely, letting the warm clean water envelop his tired body. Everything disappears, the sound filling his head like the sea, and he’s reminded of the moment C.C. touched him, offering him her gift, changing his life. Everything is the result of a choice.
He breaks the surface again, sighing in the steam, and settles back against Suzaku. He reaches up to scrape his wet hair back off his face, letting his head rest in the crook of Suzaku’s neck. He feels lighter, the water holding his weight, the warmth wrapping around him. Suzaku wraps his arms around him, too, putting his big hands on the bump.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yes.” Lelouch sighs again, stretching his sore legs out beneath the surface. “This bath is the sole reason I haven’t ordered your castration.”
“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t hear you complaining at the time, Your Majesty.” Suzaku nips at his neck. “You made plenty of other noises.”
“Shut up,” Lelouch grumbles, closing his eyes.
He can feel Suzaku gently stroking his fingers over the horizon of his belly, chasing the tiny movements, the tremoring signs of life. Lying here with him in the bathroom of their royal suite, rulers of the world, reduced to just the two of them and the life they have created together… It feels so distant, delirious, like the dream of someone dying. He can barely remember the Black Knights or Ashford Academy. This doesn’t fit - and it doesn’t fit them, liars and murderers, killers of their own fathers. Mothers, too, if he’s truly honest. Suzaku’s mother died in childbirth, giving her own life to bring him into the world. That’s why his fingers tremble as he traces his skin.
“Lelouch?”
"Yes?"
“Do you think we’ll be good parents?”
Lelouch snorts. “The bar is pretty low, isn’t it?”
“Mm.” Suzaku pauses, his hand growing still. “...Well, I guess I mean… what if our child hates us?”
Now Lelouch laughs. “Again, the bar is pretty much in Hell.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. We both killed our fathers. You were only ten, for god’s sake. Do you really think we can do a worse job than either of them?”
“...I’d hope not.” Suzaku draws circles over his belly, gentle and comforting. “It’s just… we’re putting a lot of responsibility on this baby. It hasn’t even been born yet and it’s already a symbol.”
“Zero was a symbol.”
“Right,” Suzaku agrees, “but Zero was also a mask. It wasn’t your whole being, Lelouch. You could take it off.”
Lelouch reaches up, putting his own hand atop Suzaku’s, lacing their fingers together. Suzaku breathes out, pressing a kiss to his wet hair. They’re both quiet for a long moment. Lelouch has considered this many, many times, wondering if they’ve done the right thing. Maybe he should have hidden it better. Had things gone to their original plan, he wouldn’t be alive anymore. Suzaku would have been condemned to living out his life as Zero. Their penance would have been paid, paving the way for peace. This offering is perhaps paltry in comparison: what is love to a crowd that bays for blood? Realistically, his best bet now would be to die in childbirth, allowing the newborn to succeed him with immediate effect. He has considered this, too; that his hips are narrow, that he might not survive. The result of such tragedy is someone like Suzaku.
“Are you scared?” Suzaku asks. It’s piercing, sudden, like he can peer right into his mind.
“Of what?” Lelouch asks sleepily, closing his eyes.
“Giving birth.” Clinical, straight to the point.
Lelouch shrugs. “Haven’t thought about it much. We’ll get there when we get there.”
“Liar,” Suzaku says. “You, with your fifteen different contingency plans for every occasion? You’re really telling me you haven’t given any thought whatsoever to childbirth when you’re eight months pregnant?”
“That’s right.”
“Liar,” Suzaku says again.
“I’m not. Maybe I’m just in denial but I really haven’t thought about it in too much detail. I suppose it makes no odds. After all, I was going to let you run a sword through me, wasn’t I?”
“And you weren’t scared of that, either?”
“I didn’t think about it.”
“I did.”
“Yeah.” Lelouch squeezes his hand. “I know.”
“...I’m glad.” Suzaku presses his forehead to Lelouch’s bare shoulder, his voice muffled. “I know it’s selfish, I know we don’t deserve to be happy, but I’m glad things turned out like this. I’m glad we can pay our debt a different way.” His voice lowers, cracking. “I’m… I’m so glad I don’t have to kill you.”
Lelouch is silent, still, listening to Suzaku sob against his shoulder. He gently strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. Suzaku has spent all of his life grieving. Now their child reprieves him.
Dawn is beginning to break when they at last leave the bath and head back to bed. The lack of face-to-face engagements means that they can sleep in, at least. Suzaku carefully helps Lelouch with his buttons, his green eyes serious as he focuses on his task. Deep down, his thankless hands rinsed of blood, Suzaku is gentle. Lelouch has always loved that about him, observing it first with Nunnally, how her defencelessness had moved him to the kindness he was capable of. He wasn’t meant to be a murderer. Lelouch knows he cannot say he’s glad, too; that he doesn’t have the right to, seated on his throne of corpses, when he has killed so many mothers. Still. For Suzaku’s sake, for his salvation, he’ll gladly bear his fruit, bittersweet.
Suzaku lies back against the headboard, settling Lelouch in his lap, looking up at him. He puts his hand on his belly again, cradling the new world of their design that he carries within him. Lelouch reaches out and touches his cheek and Suzaku nuzzles into his touch.
“Did you decide on a name yet?” Lelouch asks quietly.
“I’m not settled on one,” Suzaku replies, “but I have a few options.”
“Do you want to share?”
“I’m still considering.”
“Alright.”
“I don’t want you to hate it.”
“I won’t hate it.” Lelouch smirks, pinching Suzaku’s cheek. “Anything you pick will be fine.”
“Okay,” Suzaku says bluntly, pulling his face free. “Then how about Rei? Works for either.”
“Rei,” Lelouch repeats. “Doesn’t that mean…?”
“Zero.” Suzaku looks at him. “Well. It can mean other things, too, but… is it too…?”
He trails off, uncertain. Lelouch looks up at the ceiling, considering this single syllable. It’s clean and simple, nothing like his own name, the names of any of his siblings. That’s why he chose ‘Zero’ for himself, the embodiment of nothingness, a fresh start.
He puts his hand to his stomach, pressing his palm atop Suzaku’s fingers. Geass is like hope, the wish for something better. This tiny life has grown from the gulf between them, proof that love exists even between enemies. The sun is coming up, beginning to stain the room golden, casting long shadows across the floor. The name Suzaku has chosen hangs crystal-clear in the air, bright as a drop of morning rain. It quivers on their tongues, expectant.
“Rei,” Lelouch says again. He feels the baby stir within him. “...It’s perfect, Suzaku.”