A/N: Set at the end of R1, hopping an alternate timeline inspired by a kink meme prompt that will hopefully be totally answered as the 'fic progresses. I've gotten pretty prolific with kink meme prompts before, but this time I just genuinely liked the AU that was taking shape, so here we are.

Enormous spoilers for the last episode of R1 and the second episode of R2, at the very least. Events from later in R2 will probably also come into play later. And the rating is for content in the next two chapters, not for content in this one. Sorry to disappoint you. :(

.phase 1.
First Degree

In the back of his mind, Suzaku knew he had been waiting for this moment with bated breath.

The great and mighty Zero (Lelouch) (no, Princess Euphemia's murderer) trembled beneath the hand in his soft dark hair. Stiffened, as the Emperor began to explain his intentions. Struggled and shouted impotently when Suzaku held that cursed eye shut, eyelid fluttering against his thumb pad like a bird flapping wings in desperation because it knew they were about to be clipped.

Even at his most frantic, he was only marginally difficult to hold in place, his Britannian straitjacket hardly necessary. Still so physically weak. And slowly being paralyzed by growing horror as he realized, as it sunk in, what was about to happen to him. What he was about to lose.

Suzaku could almost taste the fear, and he wet his lips. Yes, he found himself thinking eagerly. Feel it. Feel the violation. Know how easily he can undo everything you are, everything you have. Everything you've worked for. Know it, you bastard. Feel it as it crushes you.

Because it would. The utter loss of control, for a man who kept himself so carefully in check, who prided himself on controlling others, was the ultimate punishment. Stealing even his revenge from him, and leaving nothing but the petty concerns of an ordinary child? It would destroy him, in these last few seconds, before he forgot everything -- although deep down Suzaku hoped he wouldn't forget everything, that at least some part of Zero, the brilliant terrorist, would remain. Trapped in the darkest recesses of an insipid Britannian schoolboy, forced to watch as he thanked God every day for his fortune at being born an ordinary civilian citizen of the Greatest Nation on Earth.

His hunger for it was sickening.

(he had never been worthy of her; a man who would enjoy a moment like this could never have been worthy of her) (no, this is right, this is just, this is what he did to her, why even as she lay there, weak with pain, dying, she had to fight against his cruel command -- meanwhile, this bastard was probably laughing at her) (Lelouch)

The Emperor paused, and looked up at him. Suzaku froze, was briefly dizzy. No, I can't wait any longer, do it, do it now--

"Yes, Your Majesty?" he forced out in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. Distantly, he realized that his hands were numb, bloodless, could easily have shaken, could easily have shifted just enough, and then his thumb would go too deep, puncture the eye he was holding shut. Distantly, he realized how badly he wanted to let that happen. Wouldn't they all have been better off...?

But the Emperor was staring at him, coldly thoughtful, and that made Suzaku hold himself perfectly still. Did he look too involved? Would he be sent away, on some foolish concern that he might be too attached to this, the man who had once been his friend, to be expected to watch? God, he didn't think he would be able to bear it. Suddenly the idea of the wanted terrorist Zero living far from here, peaceful and mundane and ignorant, seemed much too kind. He needed this first, the naked fear, the helpless trembling.

"And yet, I wonder," the Emperor murmured. "Is this the most suitable punishment, for the crimes committed?"

Suzaku sucked in a breath and averted his eyes. He felt Lelouch's body stiffen, the eye beneath his moving rapidly with thoughts he knew they shared.

If not this, then what? What would the Emperor consider more "suitable" for the son who had attempted to kill him and bring down his empire? Surely not a simple execution?

"Tell me," the Emperor continued, now looking at Zero instead, watching him with a predator's eyes. "How did it feel, Zero, to be betrayed by someone you had considered a friend? Perhaps even family? Was that not almost worse than knowing I had finally beaten you?"

A tight, choked sound. Suzaku wondered dully which of them had made it.

Then the Emperor smiled a very ugly smile, and he thought perhaps they both had. "Yes," he said softly. "You don't take kindly to betrayal. I remember. But I would have thought, by now, you might have grown accustomed to the sting. Or perhaps..." His tone turned whimsical. "Perhaps it's the particular person? This boy whose betrayal you somehow failed to expect and cannot bear? How interesting that would be."

Suzaku glanced down, but could not quite see the expression of the man held prone against him. All he had was the heartbeat he could feel through Lelouch's (Zero's) eyelid, thready and rapid and panicked. Suzaku could all but hear him thinking: however clearly he denied it now, his initial hesitation had ruined whatever chance he'd had of convincing his father, whose smile only widened now.

"Ah, my treacherous son. I must confess, I have lost too many children already in this war of yours." The words had an airy, practiced, insincere sound to them. As though he were speaking for an audience, instead of to his family. "It's made me sentimental. I would much rather have you somewhere nearby, with someone I trusted. So this all works out for the best, doesn't it?"

"What are you--" Lelouch blurted, but then the Emperor had grasped his chin, his eye, and was saying carelessly, "Of course, you're still too dangerous to leave completely intact."

His eyes lit, the power of his geass, and as it seared through him Lelouch screamed with such agony. Suzaku had intended to savor this moment, to memorize that sound with all his senses so that he would be able to replay it again later whenever he wanted, but it was over too quickly and he didn't have the chance. After only a few seconds, the dark-haired boy collapsed, consciousness gone from pain or worse. It might have been disappointing, but Suzaku knew the sound of that scream would stay with him for months.

At length he asked, licking his lips again for a different reason, "What did you..."

The Emperor blinked, the light in his eyes going dark, and lifted his head. "Is that a fitting tone for a Knight of the Rounds to address his emperor, I wonder?"

Suzaku bit his tongue and hastily ducked his head, apologizing. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I forgot myself in the heat of the moment."

"So you did," the Emperor agreed, apparently mollified, if he had ever truly been offended. He climbed to his feet, then; no easy feat for a man of his age. "I have given him only a small handful of false memories. In his mind, he has undergone an operation which does not exist. Through it, his geass has been removed. He has since spent two weeks in a cold cell, and in those weeks he attempted futilely to use his geass on soldiers and maids alike, each time being mocked for his failure. Occasionally, even beaten." The Emperor blinked, but otherwise remained expressionless. Was he imagining the pain? "He has given up, for the time being. In a month or two, the geass will fade from that eye and become as dormant as he thinks it is."

To hear him speak so casually and authoritatively about the features of geass left an unpleasant taste in Suzaku's mouth but he averted his eyes appropriately when he said, "Your Majesty, I don't..." He wasn't sure how to say it. There didn't seem to be a respectful way to voice his concern.

"You don't see why I'm doing this, instead of making him forget he has such a power? You think that would be less dangerous?" The Emperor gazed at him, at the arms that he had unconsciously tightened around Zero's body when the other boy went slack, and laughed. "To be perfectly honest, Kururugi, I thought it might spoil some of your enjoyment."

Suzaku opened his mouth, closed it again, and repeated numbly, "My... enjoyment?"

"Your enjoyment of his suffering," the Emperor agreed, cool and casual. As though there were nothing perverse about it. "The satisfaction you took in seeing him so lowered, the pleasure you felt at the mere thought of him being stripped of his power and his clever games -- being reduced to an ignorant child who would live out his life in shallow contentment, mindlessly loyal to the Empire he so despised. You were looking forward to it, weren't you?"

Some dark, terrible part of him shivered. Suzaku dipped his head in wordless acknowledgment, because despite that part (or maybe because of it), he thought he might vomit if he attempted to speak.

The Emperor waited for a few seconds, then smiled again. "I had thought there was no better punishment for such a troublesome, deceitful child. But seeing how much pain it caused him just to be in your presence and feel the truth of your treachery..." He chuckled darkly. "Consider it a gift, Major Kururugi. One last, small reward for your services. My only request is that you keep him alive. In all other respects, you may do with him whatever you wish. My son -- no, I should say: my former son -- now belongs to you."

*

Everything happened very quickly after that.

A teleconference had already been scheduled to announce the death of Britannia's most notorious terrorist, and it was a simple matter to explain that his body had been unexpectedly recovered from the skirmish. The only difference for the reporters now was that the terrorist could be unmasked on international television and tried for his crimes against the crown.

Given what he knew had been the original plan, Suzaku was stunned to hear how much of the truth was now being exposed: that the diabolical genius who had given Britannia so much trouble was in fact an ordinary Britannian high school student, Lelouch Lamperouge. Or, worse yet, that the ordinary student had once been Lelouch vi Britannia, a long-lost heir to the throne, who had used Area 11 against his own father in a strategic bid for power. Things that he had thought too embarrassing for the Empire to confess were being admitted freely.

But when the moment came for him to walk out onstage with his prisoner, the glorious leader of the Elevens now bound and gagged and obviously, visibly at his mercy, Suzaku immediately saw the reason for the Empire's acknowledgments.

It might have been embarrassing for them to have come so close to ruin at the hands of a child, but it was far worse for "Zero" to have been just another selfish royal brat, the hero of so many revealed to be not Robin Hood after all but Prince John in a clever disguise. And even still groggy from the geass, from his memories of imprisonment, Lelouch had gone snow-white at the announcement. He knew what it would do to his former power base.

Again, Suzaku felt ugly pleasure. That's right, Lelouch. They don't even have to lie about you, do they? And you'll still lose so much.

His straitjacket had been exchanged for an older form of bondage that would let the audience at home see Zero in his full regalia, and a length of chain that would have made for a convenient leash now ran from the thick iron collar around his neck to the manacles that held his wrists together behind his back. Suzaku ignored it to take hold of his former friend's hair anyway, and when Lelouch turned to look back at him, unguarded for an instant, hopeful for an instant, searching his eyes for any trace of mercy, he knew the Emperor had been right.

Spending the rest of this miserable life in his presence would be more horrible than any other form of torture under the sun.

"Don't worry," he found himself saying flatly, so that the hope flickered, burning brighter for a few fragile seconds. "This is nothing, compared to what's about to come."

The hope died, and immediately Zero changed gears, Lelouch's vulnerability turning to rage and indignation. His left eye lit and he started to try and speak around the gag, but then memories real and false settled on him like a weight and he closed both eyes. Briefly defeated.

Defeat that would become much less brief, in a week. In a month. In a year.

Still, he would have been dangerous in different company. As Suzaku had expected, the instinct to use his geass had overridden everything, both the supposed "operation" he thought he'd had and the limitations he knew existed. As that boy had explained, and he'd had no reason to doubt, Lelouch's geass only worked once on any one person. So he must have known that Suzaku would be immune to any further commands he might have given.

(as if he could have commanded any worse from him)

Something hot twisted in his belly, and Suzaku stepped forward then, dragging Lelouch by his hair out to meet his father, ignoring suffocated sounds of pain to deposit him at the Emperor's feet, in front of the cameras. In front of the family he had left behind.

In front of the world.

The ceremony was brief but dramatic: the Emperor named him as the son of Marianne vi Britannia, read a prepared list of his crimes for the record, and then summarily stripped him of his title, the holdings that might still have been his, and pronounced his sentence. Suzaku would have given anything to see the expression on the bastard's face, but he could not.

Indentured servitude had a long, proud tradition in the Empire. And wasn't it fitting, somehow, that the man who had called himself Zero, who had achieved everything over the last few months by subjugating other people, would now spend the rest of his life in the service of the Empire he had fought to overthrow, a slave?

"All men are not created equal," the Emperor continued grandly, with a sweeping gesture. "Some make use of the tools they are given in life -- they cultivate their talents, they move through their lives with focus, and even obstacles are treated as opportunities they can use. Others squander their birthrights, throwing all but their very lives away. Those people do not deserve their privileged place in life, and inevitably it will slip away from them. Nature has erred, and nature corrects. Is there no better proof of this than the difference between what Suzaku Kururugi, the newest Knight of the Rounds, has made of his life... and what my foolish son has made of his?"

Another man might have felt it necessary to look at his son. The Emperor only paused, staring fixedly into the camera, for his audience to absorb this wisdom.

"Ordinarily," he went on at last, "such a prominent slave would be auctioned off to the highest bidder. But a kill in nature belongs to the successful predator, and does it not seem especially fitting, in this case, that Major Suzaku Kururugi -- the epitome of what even an Eleven can accomplish and one of so many directly harmed by Zero's actions -- should be the one to take from him his undeserved privileges?"

Suzaku felt the jerk against the grip he had on soft dark hair, the reaction he hadn't given before, and smiled. It was probably no more pleasant than the Emperor's had been. Yes, he thought. Just like that. Again, belonging to him was apparently so much worse than belonging to a stranger.

The Emperor gestured at him and said, "Now, remove those clothes. They were the clothes of a traitor. As a slave, he won't be needing them... or any others, for that matter."

Suzaku drew his sword, turned on the ball of his heel, and was finally able to see Lelouch's expression as he lifted him to his feet. So much shock, so much horror, so much anger. And now he began to struggle in earnest, probably chafing his wrists with the effort, but all he managed to do was rattle that length of chain. Still bound, still gagged, still convinced that his geass could not help him, it wasn't difficult to hold him down.

To cut through Zero's extravagant costume, to slice away Lelouch's simpler underwear, to expose him inch by inch until he was naked and then to release his hair, letting him fall to the floor.

It couldn't have taken more than a few seconds, couldn't possibly have required any real exertion, yet Suzaku found that he was breathing shallowly.

In his head, he went over all of the valid psychological reasons to keep a slave naked. There were plenty, and reciting them silently helped him to rationalize the sight of so much flawless bare skin, helped to distract him from things that were less easily rationalized.

(the way he was staring) (the flush he could feel creeping up his own neck) (his suddenly dry mouth)

More enjoyment of Lelouch's suffering? Was he that terrible a person?

"Much more appropriate," the Emperor said airily. "Take him away, Knight of Seven. I'm sure you can think of an appropriate activity for him to engage in. Laundry, perhaps?"

Suzaku reached down to collect his new property, this time taking the chain -- the leash -- firmly in hand. He brought his heels together, his right hand over his heart, and bowed deeply. He focused on breathing evenly. And still he found himself thinking, No. Not laundry. Nothing like laundry, in fact.

(worse, he was so much worse) (but Lelouch deserved it)

The rest of the audience chamber blurred together in bright colors and soft noise as he left it. Suzaku knew they were here, that they had been watching everything -- Princess Cornelia, Prince Odysseus, Princess Guinevere, Prince Schneizel, others -- but although he could feel their eyes on him, he could not make out any of their faces or voices in the din.