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Princess Cornelia li Britannia had earned herself the title “Goddess of Victory” on the battlefield. She’d taken after her mentor, Marianne vi Britannia, in her skill as a Knightmare Frame pilot. Barely 20, she had several military achievements under her belt, one of her most noteworthy being how she’d whisked in and saved the trapped royal vi Britannia siblings during the Second Pacific War while simultaneously bulldozing large numbers of enemy troops. Her proficient usage of superior Britannian war technology mixed with excellent reconnaissance (and a good dose of common sense) fast-tracked her to commanding her own special military unit, the Glaston Knights. By age 27, she’d become the Chief General of the Imperial Army; one of her first acts as supreme military commander was to use her warrior princess skills to establish Area 18 in service to her father, the Britannian Emperor. While she was young for her position, Cornelia had guts, experience, and a long record of success tied to her name, whispered in feared awe by enemies and allies alike.
“So the E.U. is becoming problematic,” Lelouch vi Britannia surmised for the war council, coolly drumming his fingers on the ancient wooden table. He slowly looked up at the ceiling and yawned, as if the current politics were a game he’d grown bored of playing. Every movement he made was carefully blasé, but Cornelia could read her intelligent younger half-brother well after everything and could easily see through his intended act. While his face was pulled into a practiced mellow expression, the sharp glint in his eyes was nigh impossible to hide. Cornelia could see that it was important to him—to successfully maneuver his way through his first official warfare convention meeting. His inexperience in these delicate matters was only one strike against him in the eyes of the Britannian council.
Pursing her lips, Cornelia let her gaze drift to the other underestimated man at the meeting. Sir Kururugi was standing stiff and straight by his prince’s shoulder, his jade green eyes betraying nothing in a way that surely would have made Lelouch proud to witness had they not been facing the same direction—always looking towards the same future. He didn’t even fidget, which Cornelia sensed was rather difficult for the energetic young knight. She vividly remembered Suzaku Kururugi tearing all over the place, as if he had too many thoughts and feelings to contain in his early adolescent body, from the very second Lelouch insisted that Suzaku be saved, too. That had been seven years ago, when both had been a ripe age of ten going on full adult. The Second Pacific War had matured them both beyond their years, despite their fairly early rescue at Cornelia’s hands. They’d still seen and experienced too many horrors, visible lurking in the depths of their eyes if looked at from the right angle.
Cornelia didn’t give a damn about Kururugi’s suffering, but she certainly cared about Lelouch’s.
She tolerated Kururugi because of what he clearly meant to Lelouch, but her opinion of the Eleven was truthfully as low as every other Britannian’s. The Goddess of Victory had been outraged when Lelouch first appointed Suzaku Kururugi as his personal Knight, but she’d been powerless to intervene. Lelouch had been adamant—it was Suzaku or no one—and because Cornelia couldn’t risk her half-brother’s safety after all the trouble of recovering him from the now-Area 11, she bit her tongue and listlessly applauded once Kururugi was announced as Lelouch vi Britannia’s special Knight. The whole affair had been a political nightmare, but Cornelia had luckily missed most of it due to a training mission with her personal squadron.
However, Cornelia hadn’t missed how both Lelouch and Suzaku would stare at each other a little too long, a little too intensely for what would be considered appropriate. Lelouch’s hand often found a home on Suzaku’s shoulder, violet eyes glaring defiance every time Cornelia jerked her chin to wordlessly remind him to step away from his Knight, particularly in the public eye. She highly suspected—but had no definitive evidence—that they were fucking behind closed doors, or even open doors with the way Lelouch liked to flaunt his dance with danger.
Schneizel found the whole thing quite amusing. Euphemia found them adorable, sighing in longing to have a lover who looked at her with the same starry-eyed expression Suzaku frequently shot in Lelouch’s direction. Cornelia was merely annoyed and frustrated; Lelouch was Britannian royalty and he could clearly do better than some useless Number. Just like the Knight issue, though, it seemed that Lelouch had made up his mind about his lover: it was to be Suzaku or no one. The open secret was a recurring topic of gossip among the Royal Court, and not even the emperor’s disapproving expression could break their relationship; in fact, his father’s contempt most likely motivated Lelouch to dig his claws into Suzaku that much harder. Lelouch had never forgotten that it had been Charles zi Britannia who’d abandoned him, but Cornelia li Britannia—acting on her own—who’d saved him. Along with Suzaku and Nunnally. Bonus points for the Second Princess.
Lelouch was starting to win the council’s favor as he confidently declared, “If we follow my plan, we will win.” The authority in his voice was absolute, and Cornelia wondered when he’d grown into it. How she’d missed it. She shook herself out of her musings, trying to keep herself in check. She was here as support, as a guide—today was Lelouch’s show. Right now he was detailing a plan revolving around Sir Kururugi, and Cornelia’s heart clenched. While she tended to agree, she also knew the war council would have a hard time buying Lelouch’s strategies. Perhaps if they were so inclined to reject Sir Kururugi, they would be swayed by the package that came with him.
Irritatingly enough, Suzaku Kururugi turned out to be an excellent Knightmare pilot. As Lelouch’s Knight, he was privy to special connections—Schneizel’s Advanced Special Envoy Engineering Corps—and through a stroke of dumb luck, he’d proven himself the best fit to sync with the developmental Knightmare Frame of the times, Lancelot. The latest advancement—still veiled to the rest of the world—was the addition of blaze luminous wings, allowing the Knightmare to fly as no others yet could. Cornelia remembered spouting off on Schneizel for hooking his favorite half-brother and Lelouch’s rumored lover up with the ASEEC Unit, but the blond prince had simply smiled and said, with a devious twinkle in his eye, that he considered it an early wedding present. Besides, what they made of his connections was up to them. Schneizel was interested in seeing where they went, while Cornelia was only interested in seeing Lelouch’s progress.
Suzaku was irritatingly protesting his skills as he walked around to face Lelouch, downplaying his talents much to the delight of the Britannian war council. A vivid blush stained his cheeks, but his eyes shone from Lelouch’s praise. He thrived on recognition—not about whether he was a competent Knight, but about whether he was good enough for his prince. Suzaku’s yearning to prove himself worthy of Lelouch was etched in every shadow on his face, in his eyes. Even Cornelia admitted that.
“You have the superior Knightmare,” Lelouch reasoned aloud with an exaggerated eye roll, waving away his Knight’s humbled objections. “Just charge headlong into the enemy. Use the land spinners,” he continued, spreading his arms wide and lifting his shoulders in a pronounced shrug, as if it couldn’t be more obvious, “and the VARIS Sword. Cut down the enemy units.” Taking a deep breath, he kept issuing orders while flapping his hands in those wide, flamboyant gestures he’d become so well-known for throughout Britannia—surpassing even Schneizel’s reputation and flair.
Narrowing his eyes, Sir Kururugi licked his lips and straightened, not even hesitating to interrupt the Eleventh Prince in the middle of his briefing with, “Excuse me, Prince Lelouch, but—could you start over?” Only a small twitch of his fingers betrayed any hint of emotion, his constant star-struck demeanor now buried again under business.
Across the room, Guilford frowned at the Eleven Knight, clearly appalled at Kururugi’s audacity to cut into a prince’s—his own prince’s—commands. Cornelia’s Knight bit his tongue, but there were several disdainful mutters around the council table concerning Sir Kururugi’s uncouth action.
“Just what you’d expect from an Eleven.”
“No propriety at all.”
“How dare he?!”
“Can’t even comprehend the most basic instructions.”
“Bet he wasn’t even listening in the first place.”
“Yeah, probably daydreaming about getting royally fucked.”
Snickers erupted at that last line, delivered a little louder-sounding in a convenient conversation lull.
Lelouch silenced them with a chilling look before turning to Suzaku with a wry smile.
Cornelia internally groaned as Lelouch indeed started his briefing over. He was surely upset that his splendid opening act was interrupted, his agitation bleeding through more ridiculous poses and even wilder gesticulations. His frenetic movements offset the way his voice fell a little flatter as he rushed through his orders again, Cornelia sighing and zoning out at the repetition. The element of surprise was already lost, his tactics and plans having already been pitched to his audience during his debut performance. Cornelia knew how much Lelouch soaked up the spotlight, but now wasn’t the time. War strategy was her element, and the situation with the E.U. was not a chess game or a staged show such as the way Lelouch seemed to be treating it.
At the moment, Cornelia had a very bad feeling.
-+-
Things only worsened after Lelouch’s operation was given the green light, and Sir Kururugi started it off with a bang by immediately disobeying orders. Instead of bowling into the specified enemy flank with the Lancelot on his land spinners—the very first thing Lelouch had ordered him to do, twice—Suzaku charged the E.U.’s front line and, at the last second, leapt into the air and soared above the enemy’s heads. Green blaze luminous wings scattered fractured sunlight over their opponents’ Knightmares, the E.U. soldiers initially too stunned at the new technological addition to aim upwards and fire. To make matters more awful, Suzaku didn’t even take advantage of the opportune moment to wipe them out. He simply flew the Lancelot over their entire formation, easily dodging their eventual retaliation shots.
“What the hell is he doing?!” Darlton thundered over his Knightmare video feed, his face contorted in confusion and rage.
Commander Alex joined in. “So not only does he fail to listen, he fails to comprehend.”
Another noble Knight chimed, “Or he’s got a terrible memory.”
With a cautious look at Prince Lelouch, whose superior smirk never wavered, Guilford suggested quietly, “Perhaps Kururugi has gone rogue.” The Britannian command base was dead silent for a heartbeat, everyone digesting that possibility.
Cornelia then shook her head and with certainty, answered, “He wouldn’t.” Not without Lelouch, at any rate. While she didn’t think highly of Kururugi at all, she trusted in his bond with the Eleventh Prince. Suzaku would never abandon Lelouch. She would stake her claim to the throne on that.
Kururugi was abandoning the enemy soldiers and—attacking their supply tents instead, set in the E.U. Army’s camp far behind the front line, barely visible on the horizon. Flying had helped him cover the distance faster than Cornelia would have estimated. By the time the opposing forces had rounded together to deal with the sideways hit, Kururugi had strategically caused a rockslide avalanche that rained down on three sides of their camp base, cutting off escape routes and potential reinforcement delivery. With the way things stood, the E.U. Army was literally between a rock wall and a hard place—faced with trained imperial Britannian soldiers.
Cornelia’s troops were only too eager to press their advantage.
“You don’t even need to slaughter them,” Lelouch said calmly, halting the Britannians’ movement. This was still his show, even though Kururugi appeared to be the hero of action and Cornelia ultimately pulled the strings. “It is more efficient to attack the enemy’s ability to wage war rather than the enemy itself. Derail their supply lines. Target the things around them and watch the effects snowball.” Gesturing regally, he added to Cornelia, “Just appoint a line of Knightmares to finish the encirclement. Trap them in their own misery, and let them starve or beg for mercy.” He snorted. “If they’re completely cut off, they have no other options but surrender or death.”
Forehead furrowing, Cornelia acknowledged, “That’s true.” A sick weight settled in her stomach at the isolation tactic, at depriving the enemy of a chance to die like true soldiers defending their country. She was spitting on the traditional code of honor woven into direct and straightforward battle, clashing with Lelouch's codeless conduct. Then she hardened herself in the way she was known to do. The integrity of the E.U. people did not concern her, only Britannia’s victory—which would be assured with a far more cost-effective approach using Lelouch’s suggestion. None of her own soldiers would face dying in battle. She would not squander her own resources. It was only her own pride that was hurt.
It nauseated Cornelia that the Britannian Army was afforded this opportunity by the stray actions of a Numbered Knight. How could she reward blatant disregard for orders? But then—Kururugi was not under her jurisdiction, but Lelouch’s. She could not deal with him, no matter how she wished for the right.
Knowing Lelouch, he would simply wave the whole thing off with a flourish of his hand and his ever-present smirk, touting that it all worked out in the end so there would be no need for punishment. If he did agree to punish his Knight, he would most likely utilize his prerogative in the bedroom. Lelouch vi Britannia never so much as frowned at Sir Kururugi—at least in public. He always played up how ecstatic he was to have his childhood best friend as his personal Knight, no matter their differing backgrounds or their backlash against societal norms. His behavior was obviously meant to rub the situation in his father’s face, never mind to preen for the rest of the world.
…Lelouch was a bit of a rebel prince.
“What are you going to do about Kururugi?” Cornelia asked carefully, voice level with effort. She watched her half-brother’s face closely.
Putting a finger to his chin, Lelouch thought for a moment before sharing devilishly, “I think I’ll let him fuck me on my inevitable throne.”
Cornelia slapped a palm to her face in extreme mortification. She could look at the most gruesome sights on the battlefield without batting an eyelash, but when it came to her beloved family’s referenced sex life…
Speaking of which, Lelouch had just confirmed it for everyone to hear. Cornelia had already known, but now she knew. For sure. She never did like having her escape routes cut off, particularly from hard truths.
Gasps abounded from innumerable Britannian soldiers over the video feed, shocked at both the prince’s blatant perverted comment as well as the insinuation that he would be the next Britannian Emperor. The Eleventh Prince ignored them all like Cornelia wanted to ignore Lelouch. Like she actively ignored Kururugi.
In a matter of minutes, the Lancelot returned. Lelouch went out to meet his Knight, saying over his shoulder, “After all, Suzaku needs a reward for following orders so well.”
Cornelia couldn’t detect the usual sarcasm in the Eleventh Prince’s tone. She followed him outside in a daze.
Lelouch genuinely meant it.
But how—?
Placing his hands on his hips, Lelouch stopped only after encroaching too far into Suzaku’s personal space. “I’m impressed,” he purred, his deep voice heard by every soldier through his wrist communicator linked to their Knightmare Frames. He tipped his head forward in invitation. “I wasn’t so sure you’d get it.”
“I didn’t at first,” Suzaku said lowly, leaning his own forehead gently against Lelouch’s. The intimacy was strictly against protocol, but it wasn’t the worst overstep the Eleven Knight had taken that day. His eyes fluttered shut in contentment as he whispered, “That’s why I—but anyway, you know that already. You’re a genius, Lelouch.”
Standing taller, a rare smile twitching on his lips, Lelouch said simply, “I know that already, too.”
Seemingly unable to help himself, Suzaku playfully pushed at his prince’s shoulder. The movement jostled their nestling foreheads apart, but the connection between them was as obvious as ever. “You’re incorrigible.”
Before Lelouch could retort back, Cornelia separated them by force and demanded, “Just what the hell is going on, Lelouch?! Your orders were to—”
“Only Suzaku understood my real orders,” Lelouch interrupted, his tone as unimpressed with her as he’d been truly impressed with his Knight. Rolling his eyes that he had to spell things out, he said, “Suzaku caught on that my verbal instructions were just a decoy. He interpreted my coded body signals and followed each one flawlessly, resulting in the gift you have before you. Ahem, you’re welcome.” Folding his arms loosely over his chest, he tossed his head with a huff.
Cornelia gaped at him. “I don’t…you mean…”
Lelouch sighed melodramatically. “When I told him to charge straight into the enemy with the land spinners, I mimed breaking out the Lancelot’s new blaze luminous wings and taking an aerial approach.”
“That was the shrug,” Suzaku pointed out cheerfully. “He was using his shoulders to point ‘up’—”
“Okay, Suzaku,” Lelouch interjected, violet eyes twinkling in a way that Cornelia had always hated in Schneizel. “You don’t need to go that far. Cornelia’s not that dumb.”
Jaw flapping, Cornelia said weakly, “And the rest…?”
Brandishing his arm, Lelouch answered, “When I told him to take out the enemy units, I used our personal hand signal for ‘supplies’ so he’d know the true target of his attacks.” It seemed pretty clear that despite acting annoyed at having to explain things, Lelouch enjoyed boasting about his scheme. Without looking, he reached out to take Suzaku’s hand in his. “It was the same deal with the rockslide and isolation tactic. Suzaku and I have a secret hidden language from our days at the Kururugi Shrine, didn’t you know?” Damn, he looked smugger than ever at knowing information she didn’t. He continued gleefully, “Suzaku knew my real plan and he literally made it happen. Single-handedly. Easy.” Stepping deliberately around Cornelia to Suzaku’s side, Lelouch said, “I think we’ve just proven how effective we are in battle together.” Lowering his eyelashes, he murmured suggestively, “Among other things.”
For a brief—very brief—second, Cornelia wondered what would have happened had she never swooped in and saved these two from the war. Which reality was harder to stomach? There were never any easy answers; even the obvious ones were hard to take. Swallowing her tirade about Numbers—about this Number in particular—Cornelia turned on her heel and marched back to her troops, some of which would be transferred over to Lelouch’s command after today’s demonstrated success. That was all right. Lelouch had earned them.
He was Marianne’s son, after all.
The prince and his knight wouldn’t need Cornelia to come to their rescue.
Not anymore.