Selfish

Selfish
By Eline

The end, from a witch's point of view.

C.C./Lelouch and hinted OT3. Not enough love for OT3.

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

It was strange how it was harder to avoid people in large spaces. The residences within the Britannian Government complex in Tokyo were sprawling and well planned despite their fortress-like exterior. Now home to the Emperor’s court while he consolidated his power, they served as a replacement for the palace in Pendragon.

Somehow or other, C.C. tended to gravitate towards the Emperor’s suites, whether she wanted to or not. Of all the places in the spacious compound, her wanderings always inevitably took her there. But she held back like a wary stray, unwilling to go past that threshold. It had been like that for the past week.

A month ago, the world had been brought to its metaphorical knees and the Emperor had been very busy making sure that his reign would be memorable. Mothers would not even use his name to frighten children in the future. No, they would not mention him at all if they could help it.

As for those closest to him . . . they held true to the original plan. Whether in the bowels of the massive prison complex that housed all “revolutionary treasonous elements”, on the field seeing that the Emperor’s will was done or being dead, they held true.

C.C. supposed that she was one of the closest observers. One of those who were not actually acting out a given part. Observers had to hold themselves distant and C.C. was a master at that. Just not now.

The three of them had shared extremely cramped quarters after their escape from Kaminejima. C.C. had used the gate to transport them to the site in Britannia--a situation she had not been entirely comfortable with but it had been that or risk being discovered by the search parties.

There had been too much at stake for them to risk capture. She had thrown her lot in with their scheme by bringing them through the gate. They had not actually asked her opinion--typical male behaviour--but she had always gone along with Lelouch's plans as his accomplice so they might be forgiven for assuming. It was not as though she had much to say about their plans anyway.

But they had marched on, lock-stepped in time to Lelouch’s tune. Side by side, sometimes skin to skin--so close that she sometimes could not help but brush the surface of their thoughts. Yet when their goal had been accomplished, time seemed to speed up and she found herself watching the end of an epoch--again.

C.C. had not cared about the affairs of the world for a very long time. The centuries rolled past and mankind acted very much the same way as they did back in the time of her birth no matter how many cycles they went through. But recently, it seemed that things had changed.

He was in the thick of it all.

His legions were still on the field, pacifying the last few countries that still showed signs of dissent. A very muted level of dissent, but the 99th Emperor was not one to do things by halves.

No, he had to make a grand production of it all. C.C. might have had something to say about his tastes levels, but she usually sat wordlessly on the sidelines as the drama played out.

Already there were whispers that named her a witch--the other name that rhymed with witch--and one of the Emperor's inner circle. That was the price of being associated with power. C.C. had been called worse.

"It doesn't disturb you then?" Lelouch had asked her once.

She had shrugged. "Names don't mean anything. Words get forgotten."

The Emperor's whore. The witch and the late Knight of Zero were both the Emperor's confidantes and lovers. They had something to do with the evil power the Demon Emperor was rumoured to have. They practiced depraved rituals in private. Oh, she had seen this before--in many kingdoms, in many courts, across different cultures.

Right before a forest of spears and pitchforks came a-knocking at the door. C.C. had been involved--intentionally or not--in too many of those types of scenarios to count. First up against the wall, come the revolution.

But that had been the plan. His plan. It required atrocities amplified across nations. It required war on a scale that the world had never seen before. So that no-one would forget for a very long time afterwards.

The plan required all dissidents to be rounded up. Hundreds and thousands of rebels to be sentenced to death for treason. His own crippled sister branded as a traitor. Very convincing.

He did not visit Nunally, alone but well-cared for and well guarded in her own private room. His mask would not hold up for long in front of that girl.

Yes, he was one of the best actors she had ever known. A very good actor, but an inherently bad liar.

Such things mattered little when one could enter the minds of others. Connected by her Code and his Geass, she knew where he was most of the time and when he used his power. If she did not take care, she sometimes felt the edges of his thoughts. In the recent weeks, she had withdrawn into herself, shielding herself from his mind specifically.

Willful denial perhaps, but C.C. knew herself to be extremely selfish.

The power of the Geass in itself was a curse--a curse that ultimately doomed its user. She had given the power to others before and had watched them fall. This one was going to fall in the most spectacular way possible. She who had seen so many succumb to the power was almost afraid of watching this ending even as she hovered at doorways like a spirit.

A dark figure emerged from the shadow of the threshold ahead of her like the ghost he was supposed to be. The Knight of Zero, buried in a grand mausoleum to commemorate his heroic death. He haunted the Emperor’s suite, for all intents and purposes invisible to the world. His cat followed behind him, a curiously tenacious member of his species.

She seldom spoke to Suzaku, but not because they did not get along. It was just that there was very little to say. They had nothing in common except for Lelouch, but that alone was more than enough to understand each other. They would protect the king. Follow his orders. See the plan through. There was nothing else.

If they had cared any less, they would not have done it. She and him, united in a common cause to kill her hopes and birth a legend. She knew that birth was a painful process. Never having experienced it firsthand, C.C. was surprised to find herself anticipating the pain of this transition.

She wondered if it would hurt more than the stake, this indirect death. When the sword pierced through his mortal flesh, she would be with him. Just like she had promised.

Perhaps she had been too maudlin. Or perhaps she had been skirting the issue for too long, for Suzaku paused beside her as he walked past.

“You should go see him,” he said. The cat rubbed against her calves, demanding his tribute.

“Oh? Aren’t you afraid that the love of a good woman and a strong knight would weaken his resolve?” she asked lightly, reaching down to stroke the cat’s ears.

“That’s funny, because I don’t see any of those around,” he said, mirroring her tone. But his eyes were shadowed and opaque. The ever constant reminder of what he had to do was wearing him down.

“My, I almost thought you made a joke,” she said. “Touché . . .”

But she walked past him to the door he had just emerged from. Knocking was for other people.