Not As Planned

(This section was almost known as “Mission: Cock-block”. But the other two functional brain cells beat the first one into submission and renamed it.

I will now indulge in a series of drabbles where Rolo tries to bump off Suzaku and make it look like an accident in the week after the previous bit. Then some angst. And Arthur.)

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The peaceful calm of the night was broken by a loud crash that sounded like a lot of wood falling to the ground outside the residence where the Lamperouge siblings lived.

“What was that?” Luluko asked, looking up from her laptop. She was putting the last touches on the next operation and saving it so that the Black Knights could carry it out without her actually being present. She had to hurry for the window for transmission using the current channel was going to close soon.

“I don’t know, Nee-san,” Rolo said from where he was practicing scales on the piano. “Maybe I should check outside . . .”

“Well, be careful,” Luluko said, closing her files and reverting her laptop back into “normal” mode. She brushed her hair back unconsciously in anticipation after Rolo left. It was not as though Rolo did not know what had happened between them, but he seemed to be extra prudish around Suzaku . . . It did add some veracity to the whole affair--and here Luluko felt vexed. She should not have let it get out of hand. Suzaku had been visiting as often as he could without being noticed and sometimes they had . . .

Telling herself firmly that resistance leaders did not blush like schoolgirls, Luluko put away her laptop and resisted the urge to got stand by the window. There was no need for that kind of act now that Suzaku seemed to trust her. But her findings showed that every time she did it, there would be an almost eighty-percent chance that they would--

What the hell are you thinking? You’re sleeping with the enemy!

Telling herself that she was playing along with the whole thing to gain his trust was not working. And if she could put on an act, then so could he!

Luluko looked down at her body, clad in a shapeless night-gown. Skinny limbs and swollen abdomen. Ugh--Suzaku could not be physically attracted to her. What in the world had she been thinking?

Her convoluted train of thought was brought to a halt by the appearance of one rather disheveled Knight of Seven at the doorway of her study. He looked like he had got into a fight with a tree.

“Suzaku, what happened?” Luluko asked, her misgivings overshadowed by concern.

“It was the strangest thing,” Suzaku said, brushing the stray bits of leaves and grass off his uniform. “I was climbing up the trellis and all of a sudden the entire thing broke away from the wall.”

“Are you all right?” Suzaku’s athletic abilities were not proof against every accident. Although he had been uncommonly lucky . . .

“Oh, I landed on my feet,” Suzaku said, not mentioning how he had to duck out of the way of the falling trellis and a number of flowerpots that had been dislodged from the parapet.

“Let me check . . . You’ve been grazed--I’ll go get the first-aid kit--”

“You should sit down and relax--I’ll get the first-aid kit,” Suzaku said, ushering her into a chair.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Out in the hallway, Rolo cursed silently. It was too good to hope that Suzaku would not survive a two-storey fall with the help of a saw and some carefully hidden adjustments to the arrangement of the flowerpots. Now Luluko was even more concerned for Suzaku!

He obviously had to rethink his strategy . . .

From inside Luluko’s study, a muffled giggle cut through the conversation and Rolo’s scowl deepened. It had been bad enough to walk in on them when Suzaku had his head under his sister’s skirt . . . (And Rolo was not so naïve to believe the story about retrieving a dropped stylus.)

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Luluko read through the carefully coded email. It was supposedly from some schoolmate asking her when she would be back in class with a sideways mention of her pregnancy. Luluko had been uncomfortable at first with using the code she had devised, but it was the least suspicious one she could come up with--it was not as though her condition as a secret any more. The mention of the word “abort” or “abortion” indicated that the operation would have to stop. Any email mentioning “keeping the baby” was a signal for the plan to go ahead.

At the moment, C.C.’s report from Chinese Federation showed that everything as going as planned. If only everything in her life went according to plan . . .

She was well aware that the past week had been a time outside the grim reality of world events. This thing with Suzaku . . . could not go on any longer without both their masks slipping. They were on opposite sides, following vastly different ideals for the sake of different goals.

And in the short time that they had shared something in common just seven months ago, she had managed to get knocked up. If her father knew, if the nobles at court in Pendragon knew, they would laugh her for being stupid enough to land herself into the one situation that princesses should never be in.

But she was no longer a Princess of the Empire. Luluko clenched her jaw, feeling a new surge of determination as she felt the baby move within her. She had chosen to keep the child, despite the obvious problems and complications. She would birth it and . . . And whatever she did with it afterwards would hinge on what happened in the next two months.

Sighing in frustration, Luluko fired off a reply and stood up to stretch. Not being physically on the field was eroding at her limited store of patience. All she did these days was wait for reports disguised as frivolous emails while planning the next stage . . .

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. She knew who it would be before she opened the door. A distraction was still a distraction no matter what shape it took. Her visitor was in significantly worse shape since the last time she saw him.

“Suzaku! What . . .” Luluko trailed off as she took in the extent of his injuries. It did not look like an accident involving a Knightmare Frame. And there were a lot of scratches that suggested that he had been clawed by a psychopath with long nails or . . . “Arthur? A bunch of rabid cats?”

“Arthur,” Suzaku said sheepishly. “He attacked me for some reason this morning when I was getting ready to go to school.”

It was hard not to feel sympathetic for him. There were bandages all along the side of his neck and face. “That’s terrible . . . Did you go see a doctor? Cat scratches are highly infectious.”

“Yes . . . She said I was fine but I should take my cat to a vet. I don’t know what set him off like that.” Suzaku had a soft spot for cats a mile wide. Arthur could probably commit murder and Suzaku’s last words would still be, “It’s not Arthur’s fault, really”.

“Maybe you and Arthur should stay away from each other for a while,” Luluko said, gingerly reaching out to touch the side of his face that was unmarked by scratches.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Rolo ground his teeth and fingered his pocket-knife. The powdered catnip on Suzaku’s uniform had been a last ditch attempt at using Suzaku’s own cat against him. But the rest of Suzaku’s unnatural luck had ensured that Arthur had got to him early in the morning rather than say, at the top of some of Ashford’s notably long staircases where a fall would have caused significantly more injury than a few scratches.

“Rolo, could you help me get the first-aid box?” Luluko asked as she opened the door and saw him outside. “Suzaku needs a change of bandages.”

“Of course, Nee-san.” Turning quickly so that she could not see his expression, Rolo stomped downstairs to the kitchen to fetch the first-aid box.

Next time, he would poison the anti-septic lotion in the first-aid box . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

On his way back to his temporary lodgings at the student dormitory that night, Suzaku saw that Viletta Nu was waiting for him in the shadows of the gateway.

Viletta silently handed him a data disc in response to his greeting.

“What’s this?”

“The surveillance records on the Lamperouge residence for the past week. That’s the only copy. I deleted the original,” Viletta said, steadfastly staring him in the face. “I suggest that you destroy it.”

And he knew what her look meant. Get out now. Get out before it’s too late.

But she did not know that it was already too late. Or did she?

“Thank you, Baroness Nu. I will take your advice into consideration,” Suzaku said. He knew that time was running out. The new Governor was due to arrive in Area 11 within the next two days and he still could not confirm if Luluko had regained her memories or if she was in contact with the Black Knights. He had been distracted by Luluko’s condition and the unknown fate of the child she carried.

Viletta Nu inclined her head slightly and walked away. She trusted that he would make a decision. Suzaku wondered if he could trust himself to make the right decision. The worrying thing was, he was aware of what direction his thoughts were going in and it was one that no-one was going to like.

Nunnally, I would like to marry your sister--the one said to be lost during the Black Rebellion last year, but sorry, we were lying about that--and legitimise our illegitimate offspring even though she might be Zero. Only she was actually Zero but your father wiped her memory after I caught her. That would be why she doesn’t remember you . . . No I don’t actually know what we’ll do if we find out that she is still Zero . . .

Yes, that would go down really well. The trouble was, Suzaku could not see the Emperor agreeing to it either.

Your Majesty, I would like to marry your daughter--

The one you knocked up? Sir Kururugi, can this wait until after we find codename C.C.?

If the Emperor had received the same reports from the surveillance team, then he already knew. And he did not care about his wayward offspring beyond the fact that she was the bait for drawing out that green-haired woman who was Lulu’s supposed accomplice.

Luluko would then kill him for asking her father for her hand--if she actually had her old memories back. After rejecting his offer of marriage for the baby’s sake because she was ferociously independent and hated pity of any sort. “Male chauvinist pig” would be the least of what she would hurl at him.

Suzaku could see why matchmakers were so popular in the past in Japan. They faced down the prospective parents and brides first.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a meeting to talk about potential . . . options. Somehow or other, like all the other time when they had met, it had degenerated into something else all together.

Luluko still blamed her hormones. She had experienced periods of frustration--sexual or otherwise--throughout her pregnancy. But she never had an outlet for it--

“Oh--oh! Suzaku!” Her head thumped back into the sofa cushions, back arching as her hips thrust up, shamelessly trying to grind her sex against his lips and tongue--

That tongue was doing wicked, wicked things between her legs as she sprawled on the sofa. Her siblings and some of those stuffier nobles would have been appalled at her wanton behaviour. Her mother on the other hand . . .

Marianne had not been a virgin when she had been made a Knight of Rounds. She had not gone into her marriage as a blushing, inexperienced bride. In fact, Marianne never blushed. Everything she did had been so natural and free of the expectations that bound everyone else. Like driving prototype KMFs into the Palace and continuing to serve as a Knight even though she was an Imperial consort and mother to the Emperor’s children.

Luluko wondered if her mother would have approved. A princess was supposed to save herself for a marriage that was more likely to be a political alliance than a partnership of individuals in love. She had seen noble families with stiff-faced patriarchs who did not sleep in the same bedroom as their wives. Her own mother had to share the Emperor with a hundred and three other wives, but as she was not a true noble, there was no real value in such a union in the eyes of the court. Luluko liked to think that her mother had accepted her father’s proposal out of something more than just duty.

Duty . . . She was able to admit it freely to herself now. Her feelings for Suzaku had not changed. Once, she had tried to give him up, but now this . . .

One of the main reasons why the princes and princesses were often isolated and privately schooled was so that they would not form attachments to unsuitable candidates. And Kururugi Suzaku would definitely qualify as an unsuitable candidate. Even as Knight of Rounds, he would still be an Eleven to the Britannians.

Princess or not, she was remiss in her duties. Instead of planning the Black Knight’s next move, she was fraternising with the enemy. In the eyes of the most nationalistic Japanese, Suzaku was the most vilified traitor to his native land. She should never have got involved with him again--

“Aaahhh!” She writhed as strong, tanned fingers stroked her nipples, derailing her train of thought. The feeling--the feeling of his tongue on her most intimate surfaces . . .

This was outside the battlefield, separate from the war that they were fighting. She only wished that the baby could be born free of the conflict. It did not deserve this--any of this. No child did. She would have to bring things to a conclusion swiftly now--

“Oooh! Yes, like that!” she cried, clutching at Suzaku’s hair. Her inner muscles clenched involuntarily--she was so close now.

Perhaps spurred on by her soft cries, Suzaku had redoubled his efforts, tongue flicking rapidly against the slippery nub of her clitoris. Luluko felt the toe-curling frisson of pleasure coursing through her as she peaked, fingers twisting in his soft curls as she held on for dear life.

Her head lolled back onto the cushions as she was lost in the rapture of the moment. This was . . . it was what she wanted for herself. It was what she wished she could have, without complications both external and self-created. But it was too late for regrets now . . .

“Suzaku,” she whispered, sagging into his arms as he got up from the floor to join her on the sofa. “That was . . . that was wonderful. A-and yourself?”

Luluko had learned not to blush anymore as she felt the stiffness of his erection through the fabric of his trousers. It was only right that they both enjoyed themselves. Suzaku would not let her overexert herself though, so she had to settle for getting him off by hand.

It was enough that he flushed when she touched him. That expression on his face as she stroked him, sliding her palm down his stiff cock--that was her doing. The way he whispered her name as he came--it was enough.

It was more than what she deserved to have, right now. Oh Euphie . . .

I’m so sorry, Euphie . . . Her sister would have been better for Suzaku, Luluko thought as she wiped off Suzaku’s face and tried to clean them both up with the hand towel she kept around her for the sudden hormonal outbursts.

“Suzaku, I think it might be better if . . .” she began hesitantly. They were getting too comfortable on the sofa and she was afraid that if she spent any more time like this, she would lose her resolve.

However, a knock on the door forestalled any further conversation.

“It’s Rolo!” she hissed as Suzaku looked up in alarm.

Luluko hastily put her loose gown back to rights, buttoning up the front and straightening the fabric over her abdomen. Her underwear was probably under the sofa by now--she would have to hunt for it later.

Suzaku was in a similar predicament, trying to get back into his uniform and praying that no tell-tale stains would show up.

Looking left and right to see if anything was amiss, Luluko settled back down on the sofa and Suzaku went to open the door. Rolo was there, armed with a death-glare that would have made lesser mortals wet themselves. Suzaku was made of sterner stuff and assumed a mostly wooden expression as the boy marched in stiffly to announce that tea was ready.

“If you’re done with your discussion, of course, Nee-san,” Rolo said, pointedly not looking at Suzaku.

“Yes, we should have tea before Suzaku goes,” Luluko said, turning to address their guest. “Won’t you stay for tea?”

“Um, I have to take this call,” Suzaku said, pointing at his buzzing mobile. “So if you don’t mind . . .”

“Oh, all right . . . What was it you wanted to talk to me about today?” she asked. Luluko hoped that he would not, out of some misplaced sense of duty, propose to her. It would be difficult to turn him down without getting into exactly why it was such a bad idea.

“Oh, er, it’s not urgent,” Suzaku said. “I have to go now. It’s . . . probably work.”

“Oh. Well, then maybe another day,” Luluko said, feeling reality reassert itself once again. He was a Knight of Rounds. They were not--could not be--lovers. Soon, they would have to separate permanently.

It was probably better that way.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Coward.

He had chickened out of telling her who the new Governor was to gauge her reaction. It was just too difficult for him at this juncture.

Suzaku knew he should never have got involved with her again. If she did not have her memories, then he was essentially participating in rape. If she had her old memories back, then they were both lying. Lies upon more lies . . .

Those thoughts weighed on his mind as he returned to the Britannian Government Complex. Arthur scrambled out of his carrier, glad to be free to roam around the much larger quarters available to Sir Kururugi here.

He was still preoccupied with the problem as he changed into the official uniform of the Knight of Seven. The uniform he had earned by betraying her. Although to be fair, he had not known about the baby at that time . . .

So engrossed was he that he got dressed without really thinking and reached out absent-mindedly to pet Arthur when the cat jumped up onto the dresser.

Arthur was never absent-minded when it came to Suzaku.

“Ow! Arthur!” Suzaku yelled and clutched at his wounded hand. Was it his imagination or had that bite been harder than usual?

Nevertheless, the cat had effectively shaken him out of his funk. He went to find the antiseptic and bandages before becoming the Knight of Seven once again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Humans, Arthur knew, were strange creatures. They were oddly preoccupied with their offspring. Tom cats, on the other hand, did not give a toss about any kittens that issued from a night of passion. His human was close to having kittens himself over the very idea of impending fatherhood. A better cat would have sat their human down for a serious session of cat-therapy with purring thrown in.

Arthur was not that kind of cat. He only knew that Suzaku wanted to be punished. Cats had no concept of self-flagellation or masochism. Arthur thought his human was unwell at first, but apparently it was an ongoing condition.

Arthur did aim to please. It was the least he could do for the human who had taken him in.

* * * * * * * * * * * *