[fic] Geass Valentine’s; LuluC
This is my contribution to the Geass Valentine’s Exchange! For @watchmedork... who I can’t seem @ for some reason? ( °▵°);; For the prompt: LuluC--C.C. providing warm reassurance (and roses) while Lelouch is emperor and worrying about the Requiem
Lelouch blinked at the blur of red taking over the document he had been signing. Slowly, he sat back, trying to force his exhausted eyes to adjust and focus on the… flower? “What’s this?” he turned to ask, frowning but letting C.C. replace the pen in his hand with the rose. She shrugged: “A campaign? Threw away the flyer. But that was pretty.” “So you brought it to me?” At least he seemed amused, if mostly distracted. He set aside the flower and reached for the pen, frown returning when she straightened out of his range and stuck it behind her ear. “Can’t you appreciate a gift?” Her reply was airy, mock offense seeping into her words and turning it into an elaborate joke he was not in on. She hopped onto the desk, pointedly not acknowledging the papers she was potentially scrunching, and swung her feet onto his armrest. She was still wearing boots – and paying no mind to his disappointed glare. Sighing, he lifted his hand to rest on her leg. “Fine. What do you want?” “For you to take a break,” she replied, staring at him like he should know it was the only reasonable answer. His eyes narrowed. “And why is that?” “You need one,” she stated it like a known, universal fact and hoped the flatness would discourage his protests for once. “I don’t.” Instant, clipped. If anything, he seemed more prepared to argue about it, nearly offended at her daring to suggest he might have limits. Or on the defensive, like she was accusing him of doing something wrong. Well, she supposed he was onto something there. As always, he was willing to argue his case against her sceptical stare. “I can’t. I need to do this,” he gestured to the table, the papers, folders and electronics scattered on and around it. Petitions, news, rumours. His plans. His legacy, documented as many times over as necessary to keep it from being modified, to keep greed and ambition out of the facts for as many years as possible – more than was feasible. “There’s so much left to do – I can’t leave it like this. There’s not enough time--” “No. There isn’t.” She shifted her weight to lean forward and reach out; keeping her voice level, she dove into his space. “No matter what you do, you will not have ‘enough’ time.” “Then--,” he snapped his head up, ready to banter and rationalize his way out of this; ready to treat it like another philosophical dilemma, a debate he could win. As if he truly believed outwitting her would force his body to overcome limits he didn’t want to deal with. And maybe he did. Maybe he was right, to a point; maybe he was young and determined enough to burn himself out so slowly it wouldn’t interfere, but she would not take that risk. They could not afford to take that risk. “No,” she said, firmly, cutting into his argument with a soft hand on his cheek. “There would never be enough time. There is always, always something more and you will not have the chance to come back to it. Do you understand?” She held his gaze until he stopped scowling at her. Until he backed down; until he let his shoulders drop. Until he turned away, staring in the general direction of his hand and looking like he saw nothing at all. Like he was already as exhausted as she’d known he could be. His thumb traced an absentminded circle on her ankle. “C.C…” he started, still staring through his hand. “This will work, won’t it?” She wondered, not for the first time, if he could ever truly understand how easily humanity forgot, how much work people were prepared to put into ignoring the past when it suited them. If he knew already how fleeting his peace would be – if he knew it couldn’t last, not seamlessly, not when the next generation potentially only needed the free will he had fought to grant them to turn it all on its head. If he lost sleep over this gigantic gamble as often as she did, as often as the other boy did – if he’d dragged himself through the same persistent doubts as many times. If he knew, after all, exactly how huge a burden he was leaving for his dearest allies to carry. But would he leave the world with hope? With a direction, with leaders and guardians willing to steer it towards the tomorrow he’d envisioned for them? Would there be peace? Yes. Of course, yes. “You only thought to ask me now?” her voice was gentle, soft, not at all mocking even as she effortlessly reminded him of how rushedly they had stumbled into his plan – of how sure he had sounded. How sure he had to be. “You know it will.” He smiled at her then, a tired, grateful smile, filled with honesty and vulnerability to meet hers. She did not doubt he could have done more, would have done more had circumstance and coincidence not hurled them where they had. But that he would still be able to wrench them all from the rapidly escalating vortex of uninformed choices and seemingly unending, unintended tragedy… she didn’t think she’d ever believed it possible. She hadn’t dared to hope for anything like it, not for centuries now. She had certainly not seen it done before. Not even for the price they were going to have to pay. But this was now. This was a rare chance. This was a possibly once-in-a-lifetime pocket of calm she could control. This was the flipside to the fleeting nature of human life: a unique moment. This was what she could have and she would take it. She nudged his hand off her foot and slid off the desk, landing square in front of his chair. “Come,” she held out her hand for him and smiled when he took it.
