Shirahime (shirahime) wrote in taintedquill, @ 2007-08-06 22:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | code geass, guilford/cornelia |
Faithful Servant
Title: Faithful Servant
Author: Shirahime
Rating: R
Pairing: Guilford/Cornelia
Genre: Angst, romance
Word Count: 965
Summary: Mild spoilers for episode 11. A respite after battle.
His boots echoing in the empty hallway, Guilford made his way to the vicereine’s quarters. He initially hadn’t intended this, having left his room earlier to clear his head in the evening’s cool air. But upon returning inside, his feet seemed to carry him in that direction, so he allowed himself to be led. Guilford had been distracted by his thoughts all afternoon, and now felt drawn to the focus of them.
My knight, Guilford, the words echoed in his mind, I hope that you and Dalton will aid Euphie. It was so like her to think of her sister, even at her possible end. I won’t surrender. I’ll fight to the end as an imperial princess. Guilford’s heart had nearly stopped at hearing her words over the channel, powerless to save her, his unit surrounded. But then, an Eleven had come to her aid, had done the job that he’d been incapable of performing. Though he’d felt joy at Cornelia emerging from the ordeal unscathed, Guilford berated himself for the faults he’d found within himself. He frowned. The weak had no place by Her Majesty’s side.
Guilford stood outside the door to Cornelia’s room. His hand hovered over the intercom. He wasn’t sure if he should even seek her out. She was likely tired from the drain of the day’s tasks. He’d hardly seen her in the aftermath of the battle at Narita. They’d both had their duties to fulfill, and hadn’t had the time for a moment alone.
He rang the room, announcing himself at her question. She bid him to enter, the force of her voice conveyed over the intercom. The door slid open with a hiss, and Guilford entered. She was sitting on a couch near the center of the spacious area, a bottle of wine on the glass table before her. Legs crossed, uniform jacket partly undone casually, Cornelia absently swirled the wine glass she held in one hand. A faint smile gracing her lips, she raised her other hand to beckon him closer.
Guilford took a seat on the sofa next to her, warmed by how she edged closer to him. Cornelia sipped from her glass, a soft gaze catching his own. She extended the goblet before him.
“Are you thirsty, Guilford? Have a taste. It’s from an excellent year.”
He took the glass from her. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Guilford,” Cornelia corrected, a faint smile curling up the corners of her mouth as she watched him sip from the glass, “it’s just the two of us here. There’s no need for such formality.”
“Yes… Cornelia,” he replied with a soft smile of his own. Even after all this time, it seemed strange for him to call her that, given her standing as well as his own.
Cornelia’s smile faded as she noticed that her companion appeared troubled. “Is something wrong?” she asked, even though she suspected what he’d answer.
“No,” he answered hesitantly as he set the wine glass onto the adjacent table. “I’m just relieved that Your Maj- that you are well. But…” Guilford trailed off as he noticed her frown. “It’s dangerous for you to charge off alone. You are valuable to the Empire-”
“I am as long as I win,” Cornelia interrupted curtly, turning from him as her features hardened slightly. “At least this is so in my father’s eyes.”
“But-”
Cornelia turned to him, her eyes intense as she placed a firm hand onto his shoulder. “We are warriors, Guilford. At any time, we might be required to give our lives for the Empire. This is something that we both were well aware of before entering service.”
“But, Majesty-”
“One can’t command one’s men from behind them,” she said sternly. “One can’t call herself a leader without being willing to take part on the frontlines.”
Guilford sighed, acquiescing. This is why the men followed her. Not just because of her position, but her strength of will. This was one of the reasons why he loved her, strength that could bring an enemy to its knees. He loved to see her assert herself on the battlefield, almost able to taste their enemy’s fear at the sight of her Knightmare, her movements fluid and deadly. Yet Cornelia held a softness that she showed only to a chosen few. Like how her hand now gently pressed against his cheek, painted lips smiling at him. Guilford laid his own hand upon hers. It wasn’t hard for him to yield to such a woman.
Cornelia drew him closer, pressing lips to his in a searing kiss. His arms winded around her waist, pulling her against him. She chuckled into the kiss at his possessive gesture, her hand moving to free his long hair from its binding, fisting dark locks as he moaned.
Items of clothing were shed one by one, and gentle caresses soon turned heated. Face buried in pastel locks, Guilford’s brows furrowed. Their social standing being what it was, Guilford knew that the two of them could never have more than these stolen moments and barely-concealed trysts. It was only a matter of time before duty called for her to marry, a union to someone more politically suitable than him. Guilford had vowed to always be by her side, to be the one that she could trust the most. But the thought of losing her to someone else was almost unbearable. The thought that someone else would hold Cornelia like this, hear her short gasps as he moved within her, feel her long legs tighten around his waist, was maddening. Guilford held her close, comforted for now by the arms that slid around him. She had promised to give her devotion to him in the way it mattered most, and that would have to be enough.
End