Be My Knight

Be My Knight
A Code Geass fan fiction story
Written by Archangel
Edited by Comixgal

Chapter 11 – Basics

{Author’s Note: This chapter is dedicated to Mihoshi. (It seems I’ve run out of BMK reviewers for the moment, so I’m turning to the folks who commented on “Hypothermia.” ^^)

The music suggestion is “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from the movie “Mulan.” I’m not normally a Disney person, but I enjoy that song. If you feel like being a wise-ass, feel free to substitute TeamFourStar’s DBZA adaptation of the song. ^^

Further notes at the end. Enjoy, and please provide feedback! RATE and REVIEW, please!}

It never fails, Euphie mused groggily in the pitch-black. I always wake up when he gets out of bed. The faint sound of her suite’s shower told the Princess where her loyal knight had gone. Only six in the morning? Euphie thought as she hit the button to illuminate her nightstand clock. Poor Suzaku! We didn’t get to sleep until—I don’t even know.

A quick survey of her fatigue told Euphie that it hadn’t been very long ago. Passionate cries and tender endearments floated through her memory, further reminding Euphie of the previous wild night. He’s right as usual, she mused with a giggle. I really am insatiable. But Suzaku’s so delicious… how can I ever get enough?

Euphemia Li Britannia shoved aside her sudden fierce arousal and sat up with a groan, turning on the lamp. She was determined to see her boyfriend off before falling back asleep. Thankfully, it was only about two minutes before Suzaku emerged from the bathroom. Euphie bit back a squeak of surprise; it had taken her a moment to recognize him!

Suzaku had trimmed his light brown hair into a subtly different style and dyed it jet-black. He’d taken the trouble to dye his eyebrows too. Euphie recognized him easily enough—those beautiful green eyes!—but she doubted that anyone who knew Suzaku from TV clips and newspaper photos would recognize him now.

“And who’s this handsome stranger in my bedroom?” Euphie asked him with a sleepy smile.

Suzaku drew to attention—stark naked—and saluted smartly. “Toyota, Renji. Private First Class. An honor to meet you, Your Highness,” he replied with a smirk.

“Alright, what are you up to this time?”

“I’m going to be going through basic training with the other candidates,” Suzaku told Euphie simply.

Euphie sighed. “I know that, love. But I thought you’d be directing them through it.”

A shake of the head. “Every Dover Knight must meet my standards—myself included,” he told her, still standing at attention and looking every inch the soldier. “I have to know if I can do this, Euphie. And I can’t expect your Knights to obey my orders unless I win their respect. If I’m just another candidate, they’ll judge me fairly. I hope.”

The Princess nodded slowly. “Can I come watch?” she asked after a minute.

Suzaku nodded, donning a plain gray military jumpsuit that he’d stashed in Euphie’s closet. “Just remember, you don’t know me, and you’re there to see *everyone* train. How much of your watching is overt is up to you.” He gave her a charming, boyish grin that made Euphie’s heart pound. “You *are* the unit commander, after all.”

Euphie giggled, then her face fell. “I’m not going to see you for a whole fortnight, am I?” she asked softly. “No hugs, no kisses…” Somehow, Euphie had failed to think Suzaku’s plan through to this conclusion.

Suzaku’s expression mirrored her own. “I know, darling,” he murmured, coming over and perching on the side of the bed. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

The Sub-Viceroy scooted forward and flung her arms around her Knight, holding him tightly. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered in a husky voice.

Suzaku leaned down and gave Euphie a long, passionate kiss that left her breathing raggedly. “We’ll have to make that last,” he told her with a wan smile, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Suzaku smelled clean from his shower, and the way he looked at her made Euphie’s insides melt.

It was incredibly difficult to refrain from running after Suzaku as he left. He’ll be the best of them all, I know it, she thought with a faint smile. God, he makes me so proud! Euphie grabbed the plush snow leopard that Suzaku had given her the night before (whom she had named Socrates) and snuggled back down under the covers. She cradled the stuffed animal close, but it wasn’t a substitute for her darling Suzaku.

How am I going to survive without his touch for two weeks? Euphie wondered as her eyes drifted closed. Her last thought before fading out was of a pair of warm green eyes.

*****

We make a motley group, don’t we? Suzaku thought behind the all-too-real fatigue on his face. Better to be tired than hung-over, though, he concluded. The majority of Suzaku’s fellow candidates were pressing hands to their foreheads or temples, trying to ease splitting headaches.

“TEN-SHUN!”

The forty young men and women hurriedly fell into line, snapping to rigid attention despite their general misery.

A hard-bitten sergeant walked slowly along the line, looking the prospective Dover Knights up and down with obvious contempt. His name was Perkins, one of the five drill instructors Suzaku had chosen to run this program. “This is what passes for elite candidates these days?” He spat upon the packed dirt of the parade ground. “Well, listen up, you wannabe knights. As of right now, you are all maggots. You will do what you are told when you are told, instantly and without question. Britannians, don’t dream that you’ll get off easy ‘cause of some stupid ‘citizenship.’ Elevens, take any thoughts of a sympathy vote and shove them up your ass. You’re all equally pathetic! Got it?”

“Yes, my lord!” the soldiers responded in one voice.

Suzaku knew that Perkins meant it, too. He wasn’t happy about training Britannians and Numbers side-by-side, but he was a man who could be trusted to follow orders, and to give his best effort no matter what. That’s why Suzaku had chosen Perkins to train the candidates—after he had declined to join their ranks.

After a few more minutes of diatribe, Sergeant Perkins ordered the recruits into a series of brutal callisthenic exercises. To Suzaku’s surprise, every candidate took to it with a will, despite the wretched circumstances. The Britannians looked around as if they each were in direct competition with every other recruit. As the morning progressed, the attitude quickly passed to the Elevens as well. Not good, Suzaku thought. If we don’t start learning to cooperate, we’ll all wash out.

*****

It was about fifteen-hundred hours, Suzaku judged that afternoon. Like all the other candidates, he was dripping with perspiration, but at least he wasn’t on the verge of collapse like some.

Not a single drop of sweat marred Perkins’ white t-shirt, though he had personally led them in every exercise. He gathered breath to bellow the next set instructions.

“Ahem.”

The sergeant spun around to find a young woman with long fuchsia hair smiling up at him. He blinked a couple times, then dropped to one knee, his right arm across his chest. Upon recognizing Princess Euphemia Li Britannia, Suzaku and his fellow recruits did likewise.

“Stand up, please,” Euphie told them all calmly as she stepped up onto a nearby footlocker. “My name is Euphemia Li Britannia. Those of you who pass this course of training will be working with me. I believe you deserve to know exactly what will be asked of you, and what we will be working to accomplish.”

As always, Suzaku could hardly believe how beautiful Euphie looked. It was just her everyday dress, the look that the public had come to recognize as surely as Viceroy Cornelia’s burgundy uniform. Nonetheless, the princess seemed to glow in the afternoon sun, radiating warmth, kindness, and grace.

“Britannia is a great nation,” Euphie told the assembled trainees earnestly, “yet it could be far greater still without weights around its neck, holding us all back. Weights such as corruption, prejudice, and complacency. Britannia derives its strength from competition, which in turn drives progress, but I look around and I see so many of those living in Area Eleven ignored and oppressed.

“It’s more than simply wrong,” the princess went on, her violet eyes burning, “it’s incredibly wasteful! We have the foremost military on earth, yet there is more to true greatness than *just* military power. Those who, unlike you, are not suited to military life are cast aside like garbage. Yet how much potential exists within them? What might they accomplish if allowed to compete for a place in the world in true Britannian fashion?

“This wasteful situation is what allows Zero and other insurgents to flourish. The summary judgments and executions of the Black Knights are receiving more respect among many people than the Britannian judicial system. Because the police and the courts are rife with prejudice and corruption. I intend to change that, but I need help to do it. I need you.

“Accordingly, if you become a Knight of Dover, more will be asked of you than simple martial prowess. You will be held to the highest possible standards of honor and integrity in both your professional and your personal life. I will expect you to exercise compassion, justice, and decency in your dealings with *all* residents of Area Eleven. You will work with the police as often as with the regular military. In short, the Knights of Dover will be the White Knights of Britannia, beacons of hope for every honest person in the world. To use a colloquialism, we are going to clean up this province.

“There are many who tell me that what I propose cannot be done,” Euphie concluded quietly. “They say that I am naïve, or that I am an idealistic fool. I ask you to stand at my side and help me prove them wrong.”

There was complete silence as Euphemia looked at each of the young soldiers in turn. Not one of them doubted Her Highness’ sincerity, and most looked ready to die in her service. She tends to have that effect, Suzaku thought behind a blank expression. I should know. Abruptly, Euphie’s serious expression vanished, replaced by a welcoming smile.

“I think you’ve all been briefed,” she chirped, “but just in case, here’s how the training works. You can quit and return to your former unit at any time you wish. You may also be removed from the program at the trainers’ discretion, or due to physical injury. If you quit or are removed at discretion, you are forever ineligible for the Knights of Dover. If you are removed due to injury, you will still be eligible when the next training session comes around. If you’re still here in two weeks, you become a Knight of Dover. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Good! One piece of advice to you all: teamwork.” Euphie hopped down from her perch. “I’ll be watching. Good luck!” The Second Princess of the Britannian Empire vanished into the barracks building.

With her departure, Sergeant Perkins resumed his place in front of the candidates. “Alright, you bleeding sods, that’s quite enough of a breather. Drop and give me two hundred push-ups!”

*****

“Not a one has opted out yet. I can hardly believe it,” Euphemia murmured.

An odd-sounding chuckle came from her left. “It’s only been three days,” Lloyd Asplund told the princess as he watched the large display screen. “If you recall, I predict that most of the drop-outs will occur on days five and six, with a few stragglers lasting to day nine at most. Roughly sixty-percent attrition,” he added as if discussing the contents of a test tube. “Of the remainder, your barking sergeants will have to weed out one or two more. I can’t predict how many will be injured; that may cost us a few as well.”

Cécile Croomy, sitting between Lloyd and the princess, winced and began to apologize for Lloyd’s overly-familiar attitude. She was stopped by Euphie’s soft laughter. “You’re funny, Lloyd,” the Sub-Viceroy giggled. “So how many will graduate, do you think?” she asked more seriously. “Is there any way to predict whom?” She stared intently at the video feed, trying to analyze the forty young soldiers. They were currently carrying huge logs along a trail in teams of five.

Lloyd stroked his chin thoughtfully. “How many? Ten at most. As for which ones, I can only name young Kururugi for sure.” The newly appointed Chief Scientific Advisor to the Knights of Dover smiled to himself. “But I’d say the group that’s taken your advice about teamwork to heart is the best bet.” Lloyd indicated two teams who were well ahead of the others. Suzaku was at the head of one—Euphie still wasn’t used to seeing him with black hair—and a tall, pretty Britannian girl was leading the other.

To Euphie’s immense pride, Suzaku had begun setting an example for the other recruits on the morning of the second day. Asked to swim a hundred laps across a frigid lake, one of the Eleven recruits had balked and been literally kicked into the water by an instructor. It turned out that the man couldn’t swim, and he appeared in genuine danger of drowning. Suzaku had jumped in beside the recruit and calmed him down, swiftly teaching him to float, then to swim.

That candidate, a stoic Japanese boy built like a rugby forward, had stuck by Suzaku from that moment onwards, and they both had performed better as a result of their cooperation. The two of them had grown to a solid ten recruits who now worked as a firm team, each taking the lead in those exercises which he or she knew most about. The remarkable thing, Euphie thought, was that the team was about evenly split in both nationality and gender.

She said as much to Cécile, who nodded. “Suzaku is a natural leader, Your Highness. I very much doubt that any person out there knows who he really is, yet those other soldiers defer to him. I’ve gone into their backgrounds, and I suspect that they all have very strong motivation to become Knights of Dover, albeit for different reasons. More so than the rest, anyway. And Suzaku’s gathered them around him without realizing it.” Cécile shook her head. “Most remarkable.” Lloyd gave a little grunt of affirmation.

“I guess individual competition is more ingrained in our collective psyche than I thought,” Euphie mused. “Those thirty just don’t seem to get it. Look at that team, each one trying to outdo all the others. Don’t they realize that they’re all hauling the same log?” She sighed. “The problem at hand in a nutshell, I suppose. I’m going to tell the instructors to strengthen the emphasis on teamwork.”

*****

Suzaku looked around and couldn’t help a grin despite his fatigue. Out of thirty-nine fellow candidates who had begun the training two weeks ago, only six remained. Many had dropped out before the end of the eighth day, and of the rest two had been thrown out and five had fallen to injuries. Suzaku sorely missed the three they had lost from his original team of ten.

Only thirty minutes more, and the seven of them would be done. Victorious. Knights of Dover. Fourteen days on six hours’ sleep a night, the remaining eighteen hours nonstop action. Yet each of Suzaku’s companions was alert and ready, waiting for his command. They hadn’t talked more than necessary over the previous fortnight, but they had come to know each other very well. What a motley bunch we make, Sir Suzaku Kururugi mused.

There was Suzaku’s de facto second-in-command, Angelica Bottomley, taking a moment to sit and lean against a tree. The face of an angel, the balls of a lion, and the heart of a saint, in Suzaku’s evaluation. Still lovely despite the dirt and grime covering her, Angie—as she insisted on being called—was always the first to offer encouragement, which had often made the difference between giving up and continuing to each of them. She also lacked any fear, to the point where Suzaku sometimes wondered if she was daft. Angelica was also a fearsome martial artist; Suzaku alone had been able to best her in sparring exercises, and then only about half the time.

Leaning against the tree next to Angie was Solomon D’Ascoine, a man in his mid-thirties who looked positively ancient compared to the rest of them. Flaming red hair, steady hands, and about as much excitability as a rock. He had demonstrated a proficiency with small arms—especially pistols—that had left the rest of the recruits breathless. A good head in a crisis, Suzaku thought to himself. Sol was obviously of noble background, but had refused to comment on it when asked. Suzaku couldn’t remember any details from his file at the moment, so it would have to wait.

Squatting on the ground nearby were Perseus Charleston and Kenji Yamamoto, their posture nearly identical as they glared at each other. Scions of old and distinguished Britannian and Japanese military families (respectively), they had taken a dislike to each other from the moment they met. Suzaku found it both amusing, since the two were alike in many ways—loyal, courageous, and fiercely proud—and frustrating, since it was only frequent rebukes from him that kept them from murdering each other. Percy (as Angie called him despite his snarls) seemed to have a deeply ingrained prejudice against everyone but his own family. Nobody else was good enough in any way. Despite his attitude, Perseus was an artist with a sniper rifle and obeyed orders instantly and excellently. Suzaku was glad the instructors hadn’t thrown him out. Kenji disdained Percy for his arrogance; Kenji himself seemed to embody the ancient code of Bushido—honor, loyalty, humility, stoicism, and so forth. He described himself as a master swordsman, but Suzaku had neglected to include melee weapons in the training program so there was no way to put that claim to the test. Yet.

Studiously ignoring those two was Sandra Livingston, whose red eyes, white hair, and extremely pale skin marked her as albino. She hadn’t yet complained about the light—or anything else—and bore a rather severe case of sunburn. A capable all-around soldier, she had demonstrated rare talent in the knightmare simulator and a true genius for operational planning. By the end of the first week, the little group had turned to Sandra whenever a combat simulation exercise came up. She hadn’t once let them down.

Off in her own little world was Kimiko Toriyama. Even Angie admitted that she was a little spooky, but Suzaku had no doubts at all about Kimiko’s presence on the team. The tiny slip of a Japanese girl seemed to have the ability to appear and disappear at will, so skilled was she at blending into the surrounding environment. When asked how she did it, all she would say was that “if you believe you do not exist, then nobody can see you.” Regardless of her detached attitude, Kimiko had stuck with the team like glue since early on the third day and proven to have a usefulness inversely proportional to her size.

And lastly was… himself, Suzaku realized. Renji Toyota, as his companions knew him. He had never thought of himself as a leader, yet ever since helping Kenji learn to swim, everyone who had gravitated to the little group had looked to Suzaku for guidance and leadership. Angie did the most to keep spirits up. Kimiko told them what was waiting ahead. Sandra figured out how to fight it. Solomon, Perseus, and Kenji took the leading roles defeating it. Yet somehow it was Renji/Suzaku who made the final decisions. He had no idea how it had happened, but the others seemed to automatically defer to his judgment. And that judgment had yet to fail them, Suzaku reflected. How remarkable.

Back to the present. For their final test, the seven of them had been air-dropped high in the mountains with almost no equipment the morning before, their only orders to make their way back to Base 024. This was *not* what Suzaku had laid out in his ‘lesson plan,’ but he had gone along with it. Much of his original plan had been modified or tossed out altogether, and the new exercises seemed designed to breed teamwork and cooperation. Definitely Euphie’s doing. Together, the little team had covered more ground in less time than Suzaku would have thought possible. Another half an hour, give or take, and they’d be home.

“Alright, folks. One last push. Let’s get moving.” Together they formed up and moved onwards, determination firming legs rubbery with fatigue. Sure enough, twenty minutes later they saw the base’s radar tower through the foliage. Angie let out a little cheer. 024 was an airbase nestled in the foothills near Fukushima, well away from most habitation. Finding it had been a challenge. What they wouldn’t have given for a fuel station where they could ask for directions…

Filthy, exhausted, the men sporting impressive collections of stubble, the seven soon-to-be-Knights of Dover marched into Base 024, straight of back and even of step. Waiting for them was Sergeant Perkins and his four colleagues (grudging respect written across their faces), along with half the base’s personnel and three people who Suzaku knew quite well.

Lloyd and Cécile showed their respect and admiration far more openly than the drill instructors, both of them applauding for the little procession along with most of the assembled personnel. Cécile was resplendent in a white-and-gold Dover Knights uniform, while somebody had gotten Lloyd’s habitual white lab coat off of him long enough to embroider a golden dragonfly on the left shoulder. Suzaku suppressed a smirk.

Princess Euphemia was smiling so widely it looked like her face might explode, twisting at the waist like an excited schoolgirl. “Welcome back, my Knights!” Euphie called as soon as they were in shouting distance. They drew up before her, line abreast. Following Suzaku’s lead, the new Knights dropped to one knee and held their arms across their chests. Euphemia giggled. “Okay, first standing order: no kneeling except on state occasions. A simple salute will suffice.”

Accordingly, the seven rose to their feet and snapped to attention, saluting smartly. The princess giggled again. “Alright, alright! At ease.” She shook her head admiringly. “I’ve been watching you this past fortnight, and I want you to know how very proud I am of each and every one of you.”

Without further ado, the Princess went down the line, shaking each Knight’s hand firmly and giving him or her a beaming smile. When she reached Suzaku last of all, Euphie just looked up at him for a second. Then she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him firmly on the cheek. Suzaku hugged Euphie back hard, his lips brushing the top of her head.

The couple quickly parted, and Suzaku found his six compatriots all looking at him in astonishment. He blushed and scratched the back of his head, giving them an embarrassed smile. “Err… Suzaku Kururugi. Nice to meet you all. Sorry for the alias,” he continued, forestalling Angie’s almost-spoken question, “but I had to prove to myself that I could meet the same standards that I asked of you. I didn’t want our lovely friends—” Suzaku indicated the drill sergeants with a wave of his hand “—to treat me any differently. Regardless, we’re still a team, right?”

Some smiled, some merely nodded, but each of them agreed.

“Okay,” Euphie told them all, fitting easily into the circle the seven of them had formed, “all of you hit the showers, and two solid days of rest and recuperation. Then we’ll do the knighting and the rest of the formal stuff. Dismissed!” she concluded.

Suzaku and the others drew to attention and saluted once again. “This way, please,” Cécile told them with a motherly smile.

A small, warm hand caught Suzaku’s as he turned to follow them. “Oh no you don’t,” Euphie whispered with an impish grin.

The new Knight Protector of Dover groaned quietly. “Sweetie, I really do not have the energy right now.”

“Of course not!” Euphie chided as she led Suzaku to a waiting car. “But you’re going to sleep in your own bed, and *I’m* going to look after *you* for a change while you recover.” The princess had to help her personal knight get into the vehicle without collapsing.

“It was you that kept me going,” Suzaku murmured drowsily as he leaned back against the seat.

Euphie started. “What?”

“Whenever I wanted to give up, I thought of you,” Suzaku told her with as much of a smile as he could summon. “I can disappoint myself, love… but I could never disappoint you. Not ever.”

After trying and failing to think of an appropriate reply, Euphie just leaned over and kissed Suzaku soundly on the lips. “My hero,” she whispered as her boyfriend started snoring.


{More Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is, by necessity, highly expository. However, I’ve tried to make it as interesting as I can. Any feedback as to whether or not I’ve succeeded would be very much appreciated.

For character profiles of the Knights of Dover, please check my writing blog! A link can be found in my AFF.net profile, which in turn can be found by clicking my name near the top of this page. ^^

Alpha Readers: Farsight, LK, and Mikey.

See you next chapter! Same Angel time, same Angel channel!}