{Artorias & Euphrosyne} Code Geass: Until Death Do Us Part

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Euphrosyne, Apr 4, 2015.

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  1. It was with a bittersweet smile that she woke from an already fading dream of sweet wine and flowers that morning, the young woman's subconscious being aware that she would soon leave her homeland as well as her childhood behind to plunge into the vast unknown that would be the life of a Britannian Princess. While most girls would be thrilled by the life of luxury and privilege that awaited them, as the youngest daughter of the Prime Minister of the European Republic, Estelle Beaufort never knew anything else, and as such to her the change in nationality and status was merely a painful sacrifice she must do to ensure the land she loved so much would prosper as it did since it's funding, centuries ago.

    It was thus with a soft gasp and a sudden lump in her throat that the young socialite left her soft bed and slipped her dainty feet into equally dainty slippers, her silken negligee soon covered with a slightly less indecent robe of soft linen that she expertly tied into place on her svelte frame. Making her way to the main window of her bedchamber, the blonde woman delicately parted the gauzy curtains hiding the outside world from view and made short work of unlocking and opening the french doors unveiled by the parted fabrics. Her path now clear, Estelle made her way to her private balcony and leaned against the white marble of the semi-circular gallery, her manicured hands crossing upon the smooth balustrade as she took in the sight of the Mediterranean sea before her.

    Taking a moment to commit the sight of her homeland to memory as she knew she may not see it again in many years after the ceremony, the Beaufort daughter closed her aquamarine-colored eyes and breathed deeply for long minutes, the familiar scent of the sea and the uplifting song of the birds taking refuge in the chateau she had lived most of her life within settling her nerves enough for her to feel prepared enough to summon her maids and start the preparations that would turn her from a beloved daughter to a royal bride. Making her way back inside was disheartening, yet still she did as her duty demanded of her. Making her way to the intercom made for her personal use, Estelle tapped her index finger to the dark screen, the thing lighting up along with the smooth yet mechanical voice of her personal AI.

    “Good morning, Miss Beaufort, what are your orders?” It would have been slightly eerie to an outsider, that voice, for it possessed neither gender, accent nor emotion of any kind, yet to her who had heard it speak for nearly two decades, that fact was of no consequence.

    “Good Morning, Steward, I request my maid by my side in order to commence the preparation for my wedding ceremony that is to take place this afternoon. Please make sure that they do not forget anything necessary for it, and do tell them to be prompt in their arrival. That will be all, thank you.” Her orders given, the young woman turned her attention away from the wall and toward her vanity, sitting herself on the upholstered chair facing the large oval mirror she had used so many time before.

    Reaching into the middle drawer of the polished wooden furniture, she deftly retrieved her favorite hairbrush and started her twice-daily ritual of untangling her glossy, golden hair. The silky waves of her mane shining softly in the morning light, Estelle ran her silver brush gently through a section of her hair, careful to not pull out any follicle as she did so. While she had once let her maids brush the strands instead, the frequently painful tugging on hers sensitive scalp had made her decide to take on the task herself instead, the women under her employ now only allowed to help her with the more elaborate hairstyles the young woman was so fond of.

    To be frank, Estelle tried to focus on anything but her impending marriage. While she was not opposed to her fiance, she barely knew Arthur, and found the few she knew of Britannian customs to be utterly barbaric. She had been told all her life that it was not birth or pedigree that made someone noble, but instead their own strength of heart, morals and achievements in life. As such, Britannia's belief that only Britannian were to be treated decently was infuriating, their belief that being born in a certain social status putting a glass ceiling on all but the Emperor himself being beyond infuriating and entered the ignoble territory in her mind. That she was to be sold to such a narrow minded Empire scared her quite a bit, if she was honest with herself... yet she had to put on a strong front, so that the Republic may continue its noble stand against the oppressive Darwinian Empire.

    As such, her face may have really been made of creamy marble and no one would have been able to tell the difference as the Daughter of Europe dutifully followed her various maids' urging as first she was stripped bare and washed in lukewarm waters and aromatic oils then dried gingerly with the softest of cotton cloths, as to not leave any marks or blemishes on her skin. After the baths came the exquisite yet impossibly intricate garments befitting a new Imperial Princess, along with the lengthy process of perfecting her new coiffure and the appliance of expensive cosmetics on her smooth face. When all was done, she was make into a work of art with the adding of priceless jewels accentuating her features and the nearly glowing splendor of her hair. The very last part of the preparation was for Estelle to wear long silken gloves, the ring finger on her right hand easily accessible by a specially-made slit in the glove's finger.

    'This is it, then... no more time to bask in the freedom that will soon be no longer mine...'

    Eyes shadowed yet resolute, the blonde made her way to the chateau's chapel, a small army of maids in her wake as they made sure that nothing tarnished the pristine white of their young mistress' bridal gown. The short journey to the ceremony's premises was silent save from the sound of life common to the vast domain, those crossing their path quick to make way for the regal woman in their midst.

    As such, it was in no time at all that Estelle took in the sight of the elaborately carved double doors leading to her soon-to-be husband, her father's firm arm that she took in her grasp as the doors opened her sole comfort as she made her way to discard the Beaufort name and to take on the name Vi Britannia.
    #1 Euphrosyne, Apr 4, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 4, 2015
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  2. Eyes cracked open, hair a mess as the man sat up in his bed and glanced around. His eyes blurry as he blinked once, twice, three times before everything began to clear up and he remembered what day it was. The consistent pounding on the door slowly reaching his ears. "Prince-Commander Arthur wake up! We must get ready for your wedding today!" His Knight-Commander Theo yelled from the other side. Theo was his best friend, and his best Knight, and though he was a Prince and higher above Theo, he still listened to the words of possible wisdom that came from him. "Do not fret Theo. I am awake and alive, and you can drop the formalities. We are friends remember." The brown haired, lithe but strong male got out of bed, only a pair of pajama bottoms he wore. He didn't dress like a prince while sleeping, but only what he found suitable and comfortable. Pale, bare-footed feet strode across the cool planks of wood nailed tightly and smoothly into the floor and waxed properly. He unlocked his chambers, allowing his Knight and a few maids in who stood quietly while waiting for entrance.

    "Come on in then." He said redundantly as they all came in. Maids had his suit, shoes, clothes, tooth brush, and it seemed like they would be grooming him. He wasn't use to this. Yes, he was a Prince of Britannia, but he was also a Soldier. He never wanted to or wants to sit on the Throne. So he had no issues tossing that foolish idea from his brain and focusing on something he could do. Fight. He was a Commander, yes, mainly because of his status as a Prince. He has grown into the role though, and has proved to be an excellent tactician and fighter on the field of Combat when piloting a Knightmare. Many countries and federations viewed Britannia as a group of savage brutes that lusted for war, and half of that was true. They wanted to unite the entire world under one banner, make it so every Federation, Country, Dictatorship, etc. Would see the ways of true peace, there would be no need for war anymore. Humans would be united, but somewhere down the line it all just seemed like a dream. The more they conquered with the Knightmares, which they excelled in creating and piloting, the more racism and egotistical they have become. It was because of the mass production of Knightmares, that no Military could oppose them at the time.

    The maids began to tug and pull, grabbing and fitting before they began zipping and buttoning. The sunlight beaming in through the crisp white curtains that lowly hung in his guest room. They weren't in Britannia, yet. He was currently living within France, with his fiance and her family. He was suppose to be showing that they weren't brutes and they were willing to compromise by sending the Prince to France to live there for a Month. He had to get use to living with his new wife, so that way it wasn't so awkward when they moved back to Britannia.

    He was bathed, clean, dressed, and proper now. Britannians had manners, but when you were an enemy then you would never see them. His brown hair was slicked back, gelled and combed neatly to his head to look crisp and clean. Soldiers were posted around the building that the wedding would be taking place, European and Britannian, but the Britannians forces were more terrifying, the new Sutherland model standing proud and shining with its purple coloring. Soldiers standing at attention, they were all professional and well trained. They would not fire on the European scum unless ordered too, but they would no longer be scum when they join the Empire. They will become another Area to them, but they won't be as mistreated as Area Eleven. The worst Area in the world. His brother Clovis was the current Viscount of Area Eleven.

    He waited at the alter, making sure his suit was on correctly and everything was square and not all crooked. Simple. Say I do, kiss her, then get ready to consummate the marriage as they say. We have been living together, and kissed once or twice, but that was it...He still had to consummate the marriage after it was all said and done, making sure that they truly were Husband and Wife and this wasn't a trick by the Europeans. His head turned when the doors opened, Mr. Beaufort, current Prime Minister, leading his daughter down the aisle by the arm like a proper wedding. Music played in the background until she made it to the alter and stood beside him. The priest cleared his throat and began to speak, going through all the blah and blahs. He didn't care.

    The question was finally asked, and Arthur turned to look at Estelle. "I do." He said the words, trying to add a little happiness and joy into his voice. He was marrying a beautiful girl, and 'Nobility' at that. However, they hardly knew one another, even though they lived together for a month.
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  3. As she made her way to her soon-to-be husband, Estelle could feel what felt like an army of nervous butterflies moving around her tightly bound abdomen. Trying to breath as deeply yet as subtly as possible by inhaling the flower-scented air through her patrician nose, holding it there for a moment to then letting it out trough delicately tinted and sweet fragranced lips, the young maiden stared directly at her betrothed through the delicate veil covering her face as she tried to focus on the priest's words instead of her mounting dread. It was a good day for a wedding, she tried to tell herself, and her fiance was both handsome and able to provide to any need she could possibly have during her lifetime. Yet the fact remained that their union would be a thinly veiled attempt by her people to buy some time, to keep the encroaching Britannian troops away from their pure and free land just a little longer still. It was a farce from the start, but would she manage to make it true by the time she died? Would she even want to? ...Would Arthur want to?

    The idea of an unhappy marriage was what she dreaded the most, even more than the idea of being thrust and abandoned in harsh and hostile lands as the virgin sacrifice she may as well be. Yet she had to be strong, to show the wit and bravery of her ancestor and face this new page of her life head on, with the sincere hope that she would learn to be happy with her new lot in life and... maybe even learn to love her husband as a wife should. As it was, she dutifully uttered those two fate-binding words in a soft, melodious voice when the time came.

    “I do...” She said, voice clear and head held high as the vow resonated in the grand chapel filled with nobles and dignitaries alike. No sooner than she did so, they were made husband and wife, if not in name only until the consummation, and were thus made anew as one under the unseen gaze of God himself.

    As sounds of rejoicing sounded at the successful bonding, she both felt and say her new husband lift her bridal veil, allowing the afternoon sunlight falling from the large tinted windows of the chapel touch her pale skin. She had only a moment to gaze into Arthur's eyes without anything to hide either of them from the other's view before she saw his eye shift to her lips, crisp minty breath mingling with her own before her glossy lips were captured in a chaste, dry kiss that lasted no longer than was absolutely necessary for the occasion. Their first act as husband and wife done and their right ring fingers bearing matching bands of gold, they both turned to their expectant spectators, she curtsying gracefully with a dainty, gloved hand wound around her husband's forearm and he bowing slightly, as proper of an Imperial Prince.

    The rest of the afternoon was a blur of activity, colors and sounds, from the walking out of the chapel under a shower of uncooked rice and flower petals, the traditional toss of the bouquet and finally the carriage ride to the sumptuous feast that was held in the new royal couple's honor. The joy on their well-wisher's face was sincere and easily felt, yet she could not help for the rain to fill her heart, and for a sense of despair to threaten to overcome her. As it was, she finally found the strength to once more look at her spouse, pale blue eyes searching deeply into his own orbs in hope of seeing some hint that maybe they would learn to at least become good friends and equal partners, as little as she believed it to be possible with a man of such station in a xenophobic empire.
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  4. She could of least tried to sound happy when saying she would marry him. Like he did, but he didn't complain and kept the fake smile on his face the entire time. He was forced into this marriage just like her, but he wasn't upset that she was European and probably French, but because he doesn't have time to care and love someone. He would be at war until the Earth was brought underneath one rule, and that means Estelle would be neglected at home, slowly becoming needy and finding another man willing to take care of her in the secret of the shadows and take her to bed. If anything like that happened, Arthur was ordered to make the affair public and then launch a full scale invasion on the European Front again. He turned to look at her, reaching up he unveiled her and leaned in. Kissing for only a brief second or two as the crowd began to clap and he pulled away to turn to the best man, who held the ring for him. A simple gold bond, to symbolize their marriage in name only. He turned and slid the ringer on Estelles finger as she did the same to him.

    Once they left in the limo that was waiting for them. Escorted by Britannian Sutherlands, back to their home for the day. They would be leaving tonight, packing up and heading to Britannia. They would go to a small villa that they owned and live their life happily there while Arthur occasionally left to go command troops and kill people. He turned to look at his wife in the vehicle, not saying a word as the tension in the air was so thick you could see it practically. The day would be a long tedious one if they couldn't get over the fact they were forced to marry and try to make this work. It would make their lives a lot easier if they at least tried.

    When they arrived at their temporary home, the Maids were already cleaning and packing everything that the couple would need for their Villa back in Britannia. He turned to look at Estelle, making sure she was okay with all of this. He lived a month in France, and now she would have to live with him in Britannia. "Are you ready for this? In a few hours we will be back in my Homeland. I won't lie to you Estelle, I might not be a great husband, or even a good husband, but I will try to make this work as long as you try with me." He didn't want her thinking that he was a brute, like she was lied to her entire life. She would see the real side of the Empire that everyone fears, but yet respects at the same time.

    Once everything was packed and ready to go, they began to load it into the private jet that would take them straight to the closest airport and then to the Villa.
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  5. As she heard Arthur's words, the young couple surrounded by a flurry of busily packing maids, Estelle looked in the prince's eyes once more, seeking falsehood yet finding none. Gulping silently at was she was about to set her heart to, the new princess brought her gloved hands from their place by her sides and grasped her own fingers nervously, her left hand idly turning the wedding band now resting on her right ring finger upon its axis for a moment before she let out a slow and calming breathe she had not noticed she had held. She would do it, if not for her own happiness, then for her homeland.

    “I... am as ready as I can be, Arthur. I may not love you, nor have chosen to be your wife of my own free will, but what is done is done. I do not wish for our marriage to bring us nothing but strife and despair, and I will also try to become the best wife I can be for as long as you stay by my side and keep your word.” This was all the promises she could give the man in the current state of things, and she could only hope that it would be enough for now.

    The remaining time spent the time set for their departure was silent, yet slightly less tense as a result of their mutual promise of good will and effort. However, as the time approached, the new relative peace she felt with her lot in life was shaken by the slow realization that she would be essentially entering a whole new culture and society blind, with only a husband she barely knew as a tentative ally. That frightened her, and the nervousness she felt at the approaching and inevitable time when she would have to start her more intimate wifely duties did not help her anxiety in the slightest.

    Finally, the time came to leave, the trip to the airport short and quite awkward as neither spouse really knew what to say to the other. As Estelle was escorted to the private jet that would take them to their new marital home, she finally settled on focusing on breathing properly and evenly so as to not hyperventilate and make her state even worse than it already was. Once inside and safely sitting in a comfortable seat beside Arthur, the young wife softly requested a book to read to one of the stewardesses tending the royal couple and was promptly given a rather expected piece of Britannian literature. Despite the soft scoff she could not stifle at the sight, she nevertheless started reading, soon getting engrossed in the story and in the process calming down as she had hoped.

    Four hours separated them from their first public appearance as a married couple in Britannian soil, and so worries and fears could be put to rest for the time being.
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  6. They may not love one another, but possibly they could grow to love one another. The limo was stuffed full of clothes and trinkets that Estelle wanted to bring along, everything he had was back in Britannia and he didn't worry about anything being lost or stolen. He could easily replace anything that was broken, stolen, or destroyed in the process of moving or it getting lost as well. He wasn't a very materialistic man, maybe because he had all the money he could ever want, or because he simply didn't think materials would be the end of the world if he didn't have any. He got into the limo with her, he knew the drive would already be filled with silence. They had nothing in common, she was just a rich girl that...well he didn't know what she did and he was a Soldier. Out in the field, fighting for his Country and bringing glory back to his Empire, but he didn't know what she enjoyed if anything.

    When they arrived at the airport and boarded the private jet. She began to read some Britannian Literature, which was a good thing. It was a classic piece that she was reading, maybe she would realize all those tales about the Britannians being brutes and barbarians as false. Every country has its whack jobs, and with a Large Empire, that means you are going to have even more because you have a larger population, but not all of them were bad. Pulling out a device from his pocket, it would almost look like a touch screen phone, but it wasn't. It was a little device that had the plans for an attack that would be happening in the Middle East. Even when he wasn't on the Front Lines, he was still doing his job. He was currently looking over how many Soldiers, Sutherlands, Land-Bases, and everything else he had at his disposal to decide the course of attack. He would probably leave in a few days, leading the Attack himself in his own personal Knightmare that he designed and had made, just like Cornelia had her own little squad and Knightmares.

    It wasn't long, or it didn't feel very long before the jet touched down in Britannia, only an hour away from their villa. As it was being unloaded, the couple was led to another Limo but this time they weren't escorted. They were in the heart of the Empire, no one would dare try anything stupid like attacking the Prince. The drive to the Villa was silent, and the media would be waiting for them to answer a few questions and after the media leaves, then they will have dinner and do something. Maybe bond or try and get along.

    "The media will be waiting for us. You know this right?" She may not have been informed, maybe because she would be surprised and then they would get honest truthful answers from her that she couldn't of prepared for and read a script to look good in the eyes of the public.
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