Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass. It belongs to Sunrise and Clamp.

Warnings: Unbeta’d, implied sex and Lelouch dying.

Author’s Notes: Painfully, stupidly late birthday present for Alyssa, Goddess that she is. Based off a picture she seemed to love. Anyway, I hope you realise I had to rewatch Lelouch dying for this! DDD’:
If it seems a little... off in places, then that’s because I haven’t watched CG for about three months. The details are a little muzzy in my head.

Sun beat down upon Lelouch’s shoulders, warming his pale skin as he watched Suzaku run about, Nunnally perched on his back and shoulders. The two were laughing gleefully, Suzaku pretending to drop Nunnally and the small girl shrieking in excitement when he jerked forward, catching her with thin arms that promised a great strength. The air smelt clean and fresh, the view making Lelouch feel as though this was just the world – that this small meadow, the bubbling stream, the sound of buzzing cicadas was all that existed. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens and war and plague and fear and Sakuradite didn’t belong here, just two small boys and their pixie-sister.

Lelouch shifted, stretching his arms above his head as the wind made the leaves of the large tree the picnic basket and blanket were placed under ruffle and sway. The sound of the leaves brushing one another was calming, and with it came the faint, sweet scent of lavender. Blinking, Lelouch stood, curious as to why he could smell something so utterly Britannian in a Japanese field. He wandered off, Suzaku catching sight of him and running to join him.

“What are you doing?” The Japanese boy asked, shifting a little, rearranging Nunnally on his back. The small girl smiled, and repeated, “Yes, Brother, what are you doing?”

“I can smell lavender,” Lelouch replied as he stopped and looked about. Beside him Suzaku grinned, and said, “Uh huh. The chef likes to grow it for cooking sometimes.”

Lelouch turned, the meadow forgotten and instead took in the layout of buildings that served as Suzaku’s home that sat a mere twenty minute trek away. He nodded once, and announced, “I want some.”

And that was that.

They packed up their picnic, and Lelouch stumbled under the weight of the basket while Suzaku carried Nunnally, the young girl’s wheelchair having been left at home. They slipped into the forest that lined the meadow, and the cool shade eventually dappled out into another burst of sunshine. They found the stone pathway that led to the houses, and left the picnic basket on a nearby veranda. A young maid rushed out with Nunnally’s wheelchair, and Suzaku helped her place the young princess comfortably in her chair. Suzaku then told the maid they were going for a walk, pausing when Nunnally yawned and told them that she was going to go take a nap.

Suzaku then took Lelouch’s hand, and they scampered off, Lelouch giggling softly as Suzaku burst into a stunted, off tune little song.

They made their way to the kitchens, where the head chef gave them a cool glass of sweet lemonade, Suzaku’s tinted orange and Lelouch’s pink. When the boys told him that they wanted some lavender, the chef lead to the gardens that sat outside the kitchen, plucking up a pair of scissors and a small basket on the way. He showed them how to cut the lavender, told them they could have as much as they wanted, and then bumbled off, preparing to shout at his apprentice for letting the chicken stock boil over.

“So,” Suzaku started, handing Lelouch the basket whilst he leant down to cut a stalk of blue away. “Why exactly do you want lavender?”

Lelouch shifted, and said softly, “Mother used to have a room. It was blue and white and she would have these great big vases of lavender put in there everyday.”

Suzaku placed another stalk in the basket, listening quietly while Lelouch murmured, “And sometimes she would go and sit in there, and when I was little she would sing to me.”

“Sing?” Suzaku asked, standing up straight and taking the basket from Lelouch’s hands. He took a stalk of the lavender, and leaning over he pushed it behind Lelouch’s ear, much to the smaller boy’s annoyance.

Nodding, Lelouch reached up to touch the lavender, and he started to sing softly for Suzaku, “Lavender’s blue...”

Lelouch stared, horror and sickness welling up inside him. They had been walking for days, the two boys swapping Nunnally between them – although Lelouch could only hold her for an half hour at a time. The smell was awful, overpowering and made Lelouch dizzy from the heat and the stench and utter hopelessness of it all.

Where would they go? What would happen to them?

Added to the fact that, really, they had no idea which way they were going, Lelouch was positively sure they were going to die.

The thought of death didn’t scare Lelouch very much, not when he only had Nunnally and Suzaku, but the thought of his little sister and best friend perishing made him worry and panic. He often turned to make sure Nunnally was okay, and he would insist that they rest when Suzaku looked as though he was getting too tired.

I have to keep them alive.

The thought dominated his mind, and chased away any logical thinking, leaving the once cool and collected Lelouch vi Britannia a mess of worry and fear.

“Lelouch?”

Lelouch turned to look at Suzaku, taking in the dark circles under the boy’s eyes and his tired plodding.

“Will you sing?”

Lelouch blushed, but nodded, and wiping hands that had been sticky with rosemary sap a mere three days before on his shorts, he hummed, “... rosemary’s green...”

Thrusting, sweating, moaning and whimpering. Desperation and a strong whisper of thank god you’re all right made their coupling harsh and a little painful, bruises blooming on Lelouch’s hips, a sadistic flower of ownership and mine, mine, mine as Suzaku bit down on a thin shoulder. Fear and sadness and regret had stolen over their souls for a very long time, such an age, years of wondering, years of silent, pushed away panic.

“I was so worried...”

Lelouch panted, body constricting, muscles tightening as a sharp shudder ran down his spine, plum lips opening in a wordless cry as Suzaku’s tongue traced the knobs of his backbone. Thrust, thrust, in, out, in, out, I’ll never leave you again.

Silent tears stained their cheeks; Lelouch’s arms wrapped tight around Suzaku’s shoulders, fingers clawing, and whimpers ripping themselves from the Britannian’s throat. So long, so long, and now everything was a mess. Guilt and worry, swirling thoughts of wonderment and confusion, what will I do?

Everything wound tight, and in a burst of near painful light and a sudden sense of completion. For a few moments, every just was, and no longer were they Lelouch vi Britannia, exiled Prince and Zero, hero of the people, or Suzaku Kururugi, Pilot of Lancelot, and Princess Euphemia li Britannia’s personal Knight.

They were Lelouch and Suzaku, a pair of teenagers who had fallen into a strange sort of love.

Laying side by side, Lelouch laid his head upon Suzaku’s breast bone, and listening to the beating of such a precious heart, he sung, “... when you are King...”

Pain, everywhere, blossoming bright and harsh inside his body. Every nerve is screaming, every sluggish thump of his dying heart is a trail, and Lelouch can feel Death’s cold fingers fall upon his soul. The world is blurred, and Nunnally is sobbing loudly, believing he is already dead. And maybe he is, he can’t quite tell.

But he wishes good fortune upon those he loves, and silently prays for a future, safe for Nunnally, and revels in the knowledge that Suzaku will care for her.

And later that night, when darkness falls upon the world, a planet, a being, that has constantly been broken and rebuilt, twisted and straightened, a boy sits in his rooms and sobs, singing in a stilted, breathy, out of tune voice, “... when you are King...”

The wind blows through an open window, and Suzaku swears he hears Lelouch’s voice, that of the ten year child he knew, once upon a happiness ago, whisper in his ear, “... I shall be Queen...”

Lavender’s blue,
Rosemary’s green,
When you are King,
I shall be Queen.