077 » though the end is coming

[sforzi]

[it's such a strange and fragile thing, this peace. in a way, lelouch accomplished everything he set out to do: the monarchy will never be the same, and one can almost state with certainty that it will never be reinstated as it once was. on the other hand, it seems almost as though lelouch died for nothing: those few dozen heirs to the britannian throne who survived the bombing of pendragon and the fallout of the zero requiem still occupy positions of power, and while the state may have claimed all royal properties, the former britannian nobles that still draw breath retain their possessions, their wealth, their influence, their connections.

the rich, in short, remain rich. the educated remain educated. the powerful remain powerful.

of course, lelouch had to have known that this would happen, which is surely why he decided to leave schneizel alive, with the geass as a check for his worse impulses. still, kanon retains freedom of thought, and kanon, quite reasonably, thinks the whole requiem was quite pointless. behind the scenes, very little has changed. people will still own other people, and crimes will still be committed — just not out in the open, by the men and women in charge.

wrongdoings hide in the shadows, but kanon knows better than to celebrate that fact as a victory. that only makes evil harder to find.]

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[sforzi]

[before all else, kanon maldini does believe one thing — a man such as his schneizel el britannia would never fade into the annals of history, relegated to serve zero as an obedient footnote to the new era. it's nothing to do with schneizel's own ambitions; it's not that he wouldn't be content. it's just that schneizel is so relentlessly capable that he doesn't have to seek power. power seeks him.

case in point: schneizel isn't supposed to be in a position of authority. following the zero requiem, it was decided that — while certain members of the monarchy were too accomplished to be callously dismissed — former britannian royals should not be allowed to hold governmental positions, for fear that someone might attempt to claim the throne that zero worked so tirelessly to destroy. cornelia, for example, has been demoted to the rank of lieutenant-general — a position she last held at the tender age of sixteen.

and yet schneizel remains. advisor to the honorary consultant, they called him at first, but everyone knew better: everyone knew that he was, in effect, the prime minister to nunnally's sweet-faced empress. chief of staff is what they call him now, and so schneizel has been saddled with a staff of bumbling incompetents who genuinely mean to do good for the world, and yet attempt to do so in their little cubicles with little desks, rather than the control consoles of the gargantuan floating fortress cities that britannia was once capable of producing.

it's laughable. a little sad. this is how they rule the people now.

nevertheless, they are talented men with meager roles to play, and this is why kanon — ever-faithful, ever-competent kanon — has access to schneizel in the guest dressing room of a renowned tv studio. he has an interview in the next two hours with accomplished anchorwoman milly ashford; knowing milly, it will be a hard-hitting interview about political mores, peppered with perhaps one or two inappropriate questions. kanon isn't worried. schneizel always conducts himself with wit and dignity.]

Look up for me.

[one hand below schneizel's handsome chin, kanon looks at his prince (he is still a prince in kanon's heart) from various angles — less because he needs to than that he simply never gets tired of looking at schneizel's face.]

Well, now... You are rather fair, and the lighting on set seemed unusually harsh. I don't want you to look washed out, so we'll have to darken your complexion very slightly.

[kriegspiele]

[ In his seat before the mirror, Schneizel moves only as directed, pliant for Kanon's deft fingers. His hands, loosely laid atop the armrests framing his sides, are no longer encased in gloves, of late. The dressing room is spacious and modern, clean, but it lacks the grandeur they once knew — still, though the monarchy belongs to the past, Schneizel's bearing makes a throne of an ordinary makeup chair.

The former second prince of Britannia and his loyal aide are here not for the first time. The studio employs stylists — in other words, Kanon should hardly be required to take on their job in addition to his own. Aide-de-camp or undersecretary, his schedule hasn't changed.

Some among them might even resent the perceived interference, were he and Schneizel anyone else. Some simply find it strange.

As far as Schneizel is concerned, however, Kanon may do as he pleases. Cosmetics have been a longstanding interest of his, and he uses makeup impeccably, be it to complement his own features or to do the same for others. Clearly in his element, he enjoys his task. Why deny him that, merely because he isn't officially employed as a personal stylist?

There is no one else quite like Kanon, in any case, and no one else who knows Schneizel so well.

Schneizel's movements are fluid, relaxed, like a lazy lion's stretching, but his gaze tracks Kanon throughout. A smile lingers on his lips, something of that lion in its curve. ]

Fortunately, I've been entrusted to the best of hands. Perhaps we should have relied on your expertise from the beginning.

[sforzi]

[as far as kanon is concerned, what the studio's stylists think of him or of schneizel is of little import. there are plenty of actresses, talk show personalities, and all-around divas who might insist on using their personal stylists for a live television interview — why should a politician be exempt from having similarly high standards for his physical appearance?

besides, it'd be folly, stooping to make use of some newsroom stylist when a world-class makeup artist happens to be on hand. with a wife's blasé demeanor — which is to say, ruthless efficiency, though not without a touch of appreciation for the handsome face that implicitly belongs to him — kanon gently pins the hair framing schneizel's eyes against his scalp for the time being. his eyes flick once more over the beautiful canvas he has to work with, and he smiles, himself catlike, though not quite like a lion.]

You'll forgive me for saying that lesser stylists would be too flustered by your good looks to do a good job.

[it's an order. thinly veiled.

schneizel's face is freshly scrubbed, and smells faintly of cleanser. kanon doesn't resist; he leans in, plants a warm kiss on the former prince's lips. then he pulls away, and rummages briskly through his makeup bag for an appropriate shade of concealer. schneizel, infuriatingly perfect as ever, has no particular blemishes that must be covered, but a brightening effect for the undereyes is never a bad idea when cameras are involved.]

I, on the other hand, haven't been so distracted by you since... oh, I don't know... third year of university, perhaps?