True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion
By Himig

Summary:
S5 S1 AU - 444-450, the Godwins have ruled the Falena Queendom & the prince and his sister were discarded to Scarlet Moon Empire. Almost seven years of a mundane life, Freyjadour opened his eyes again once power was his. How closer is he to happiness?

Disclaimer:
I do not own Suikoden. Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion was the inspiration of this fic, but not based from it, at all.

Author's Notes:
This happened when I was watching an amazing parody of Suikoden V with Code Geass ending. While it says S5 and S1, it will involve S4 characters and S2 references. This is an AU fic though events were still based from the real game.

And most importantly, respect my writing style for this fanfic. I focus on a single character, most of the time, Frey in one chapter. If you've read 'It's Not Sympathy', you will find the same writing style.

Oh, and I never played Suikoden V...

Warning:
Possible spoilers, character death, and anything else that fits in the rating.

True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion
Chapter 1: The innocent is without power

Days seemed to be forever. It comes and it comes, and the only time one would know it would go was when the night had fallen. For mundane lives, perhaps this is true. How else it couldn't be true was impossible to say for those who are innocent.

Now eighteen in the coming year, Freyjadour was a real man physically and mentally. Gone were the days his voice would crack (his sister laughing out loud), gone were the days some women were taller than him, and gone were the days he could be cute and adorable. Freyjadour was now a very handsome man, particularly popular in Gregminister. Freyjadour didn't like the extravagant attention he was receiving. Women simply loved starring at him and giggling behind his back. He didn't know if he should be annoyed or be embarrassed. Didn't they know he can actually hear them? Oh, don't let him even get start about gossips!

"Normally, men of your age would be happy," commented Lazlo, his guardian. "Don't tell me you're still feeling awkward with women."

"He got me there," thought Freyjadour but wouldn't dare saying it to admit it.

"You're fortunate you're a close mirror-image of your mother," continued Lazlo. "Your mother's very beautiful and she really stands out a lot—even if you try putting an ugly hat, it's not going to work."

Freyjadour was desperate once that he wore a FurFur hat. Lazlo found it hiding under the sofa and mocked Freyjadour about it all day.

Lazlo was correct though. It wasn't scientifically proven, but it was Freyjadour proven. No matter how he tries to go incognito, he was easily recognized.

"Maybe if you shave your hair, ugly hats might work."

"I'm not going to even cut my hair," replied Freyjadour, annoyed.

The hair was the main problem though. It was silver, a very rare hair colour. Anyone can easily tell his hair was natural. Freyjadour's stunning, deep blue eyes compliment his silver hair and his pale, flawless skin (so many narcissists simply enjoy dragging him for a cup of tea) add beauty in the two. Indeed, he was almost a splitting image of his deceased mother.

Freyjadour's sister almost looked nothing like him. It could be the fact they were only half-siblings but still, they had the same mother. Lymsleia looked like her father instead of their mother. Since both her parents are beautiful in their own ways, Lymsleia still turned out to be a cute girl. Freyjadour was more irked about this matter recently, having spotted a boy of the same age as his sister, Tir McDohl starring at her.

"They're eleven," said Lazlo as a matter-of-factly at Freyjadour. "The boy's a kid and curious. You shouldn't worry; Lymsleia isn't interested. The boy can't harm her either."

Freyjadour would have believed what Lazlo assured, not when Lymsleia made a very disturbing comment.

"Big brother," she said to him. "There's this boy who's been talking to me. Can I play with him?"

Miakis, Lymsleia's nanny, giggled at Freyjadour's reaction but poked fun at Lymsleia. "Lym has a boyfriend!"

"No!" she said, flaring up. "I don't like him!"

"Then why do you want to play with him?" said Miakis playfully.

"It-it's nothing like that!" she stuttered angrily. "Why do you care?"

"I'm not going to stop you from your first love," answered Miakis, smiling impishly. "But someone else might."

"Oh no, big brother, it's nothing like that!" said Lymsleia worriedly. "I'm not going to love anyone else but you, big brother!"

"Lym, I didn't know it was that—"

"SHUT UP MIAKIS!"

With Freyjadour's matters crashing, he was becoming restless more and more. While Miakis was always beside Lymsleia, she sometimes let the two eleven-year-olds be when inside either the boy's house or theirs. The boy did have a guardian too and fortunately, he was in Freyjadour's same side, though not as paranoid or overprotective as him. The man's name was Gremio. He looked dangerous at first, which really alerted Freyjadour, seeing such man, holding an axe and a suspicious scar on his left cheek, as the guardian of a son in a noble family. Miakis looked far from dangerous and Freyjadour trusted her completely. Even so, Freyjadour had to be close with Lymsleia whenever the boy and his guardian were around.

Freyjadour was simply an overprotective brother that perhaps, people would be surprised he had given trust to Gremio as much as he had given Miakis.

"Gremio, why didn't you summon Tir to me yesterday? If he was sick or unwell, you know you should have notified me."

Gremio bowed apologetically. "I'm sorry, Kai. I have forgotten to remind the young master."

Freyjadour was by the balcony at that time. Their houses were adjacent and Freyjadour caught sight of an unfamiliar man by the doorstep of the McDohl manor, talking to Gremio.

"It should be his responsibility. You shouldn't baby him too much, Gremio."

Even so, Freyjadour knew Gremio had not forgotten and he understood everything instantly. Lymsleia and Tir were playing all day, enjoying snacks made by Gremio (how Lymsleia wished Miakis could also cook) after a tiring activity. Having seen Lymsleia smile and eat so messily and energetically, he couldn't stop and scold her. Lymsleia herself was really keen on manners. She actually hated sweating or mess, but for once, she was really like a child. If this was how he felt for her, then he understood why Gremio 'forgot' to remind Tir of his lessons.

Freyjadour didn't expect Gremio though to be knocking violently one late afternoon on their doorstep. Freyjadour hadn't been worried though—he didn't know what was happening while he was simply practicing his tri-section nunchaku. When Lymsleia came home with a fever, dirty with soil and hair looking like it grew weeds, Freyjadour was extremely worried but remarkably remained calm. It was only when she was feeling better that he became angry—towards Lazlo, Miakis and the boy. He can never be angry at Lymsleia.

"It's nothing serious," answered Lazlo calmly as he brandished a pair of tonfa.

"They snuck behind the guard, climb through the gates, and entered the forest!"

"And they're safe," replied Lazlo patiently. "It's normal for children to be curious and naughty at times. You're getting illogical and too emotional, Frey."

Freyjadour held his tongue, slapped on the face by Lazlo. He had known Lazlo since he was around Lymsleia's age or younger. Their earlier years together were distant and they barely see each other. It wasn't until six or seven years ago when Lazlo became a father figure to him.

"But Lym—"

Lazlo continued brandishing the tonfa, not saying anything so Freyjadour continued, looking more solemn.

"But Lym isn't..."

"Normal?"

There goes Lazlo again with his harsh words sometimes. Freyjadour had always handled his guardian maturely though even if he was at a more tender age. The young man was not the type who turns his back and walks out in unspeakable, utter frustration. Even if Freyjadour was not always guilty of humility, he readily takes on anything, which became a very strong point in him.

He was the prince of the Queendom of Falena after all.

Freyjadour closed his eyes. He wanted to sigh, but he didn't. He wanted to stand on one leg or even lean on the wall, but he didn't. He's not going to give into weakness.

"In a way," he answered. "...in many ways."

"You probably know this already, but you can't protect her forever."

"I would have to."

Lazlo put down the tonfa and stood up to eye at the prince carefully. "Frey, you will be there when Lym needs you to protect her. If you're going to be loyal to your oath to protect her forever, a time in the future you couldn't will frustrate you and remove reasoning in your head."

Freyjadour was sat quietly on his bed, his room dark and empty of light. Yes, Lazlo once again had a point, but it was easier said than done. How could he, the big brother of the blind and forever injured princess, Lymsleia, let her go even once in the land of an enemy country while their homeland was not even a place they can return to? How can he lose her even once when she was all the he has?

How can Lymsleia live normally in their small, flat world?

"Queen Arshtat!" he cried. "MOTHER!"

Two joint swords were pierced from her back, their points cleanly visible on her chest. Behind her was her daughter who tried to save her, but the sword went through her stomach, dangerously near her heart. Behind the two was the man in black and gold robes, robes that signify the knights to protect the Queen and her family. He killed the queen, he killed his mother.

Where was he? Where was his stepfather, his sister's father who mother loved?

Where was his father? Where was his mother's first husband who he never remembered?

Where were they, fathers who had always made his mother laugh and smile...

Fathers who left and made his mother cry...

...who left Freyjadour.

The room was now bright. The curtains were pulled from the glass windows, letting the young light enter. Still, no matter how bright the room is, the prince's mind was still dark and cloudy, lying wide-awake on the bed.

So what does a discarded, extremely handsome and talented prince do everyday?

1. Study

2. Train

3. Play with Lymsleia

4. Watch Lymsleia

5. Keep track what the McDohl kid is doing

Freyjadour didn't look like the type who studies, but he does. Wearing a pink polo shirt, black vest and pants, the only thing he needed was a pair of rectangular glasses. Regarding the pink though...

"Why are you wearing pink?" said Lazlo ridiculously.

"Red stands out too much," answered Freyjadour simply.

Lazlo appeared calmer then. "Even if that sounded stupid, I'd let it pass."

"Was it supposed to be Lazlo-approved?"

"As your guardian, I have to be aware of your agendas and your interests."

Freyjadour's fingers almost slipped out of the book Blood Flames of the Kalekka Incident along with its information.

"My interests?" Freyjadour repeated.

"You don't seem to be so interested in women..." Lazlo was hiding a coy smirk. "The change of look has something to do with it."

"No, it doesn't," answered Freyjadour flatly. "It might never come up though. How about you? You told me you were 'older than you look.'"

"I am," he answered casually. "But if that was a statement implying about my social life to confirm my gender, then I assure you that I am straight."

Freyjadour had never doubted Lazlo was homosexual but he never seemed to be interested in women either. He thought Lazlo had a wife who was either dead or separated. With how young Lazlo looked, he could be mistaken. Freyjadour was not clueless of Lazlo's age. It's true he was older than he looks. Freyjadour could remember a bit the same face of Lazlo when he was ten or eleven.

Lazlo was a bit enigmatic, but yet normal. It's probably because Lazlo nurtured him to his adolescence that Lazlo's eccentric points were normal for him. Lazlo knew a lot of things. He was wise, knowledgeable and clever. He can wield many weapons though Freyjadour wasn't sure if Lazlo can wield dual swords since he never saw him do. Lazlo taught him how to wield swords, bows, and staffs, but never a tri-nunchaku.

"It's very difficult. I won't probably learn how now with my age," said Lazlo as he watched Freyjadour use his Twilight Nunchaku expertly. "How did you learn to use one?"

"My father did," Freyjadour answered quietly. Lazlo fell quiet as well. "Well, Lym's father anyway."

"He's as good as your father. Compared to your real father, he was a true and better father." Lazlo paused. "Did you like using it?"

"It's very useful," continued Freyjdaour as he joint the sections of his nunchaku into one to form a staff. "I had to learn how to use one since it's an heirloom. It wasn't easy mastering it."

"Do you think Lym should also learn how to fight?" asked Lazlo airily.

"Why?" asked Freyjadour cautiously, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

"Why not?" asked Lazlo back.

"She doesn't have to."

"She can't?" offered Lazlo alternatively.

"Can she?"

Freyjadour knew her sister was strong. She was also brave and smart but she was blind and permanently injured. She doesn't have to fight because Freyjadour was with her. She can't fight because of how she is now and because of the past.

"Big brother!" Lymsleia called from where she sat in the dinner table.

"My, Lym! Your hearing is as sharp as ever!" said Miakis, spoon-feeding Lymsleia of their dinner.

"I can always tell when brother is around," said Lymsleia proudly.

Freyjadour took a seat on the other side of Lymsleia. "How was your day, Lym?" he asked.

"It was great," answered Lymsleia. "Tir and I played hide and seek. He thought he was going to win for sure." Lymsleia was giggling.

"He shouldn't have played with you in the first place just so he can win for sure," said Freyjadour, sounding irked.

Lymsleia laughed. "I know! It felt so good to step on his expectations. I wish I could have seen his face."

Miakis giggled. "You wish you could really see his face. He's so handsome!"

Both Lymsleia and Freyjadour blushed. "No, he isn't!" they shouted.

"Brother agrees with me," said Lymsleia stubbornly, crossing her arms. "The only man I can love is someone greater than brother and no one is greater than my brother!"

"Don't say that, Lym. You're encouraging your brother to be better more and more."

What Maikis said was true, which satisfied Freyjadour a lot.

"Frey, where's Lazlo?" asked Miakis, collecting the empty plates once dinner was over.

"Gone again," he answered. Just as he did, he heard knocking on the door. "Perhaps he's back now."

Freyjadour went to the doors, hearing knocking a couple of times again. He knew then it wasn't Lazlo. Lazlo only knocks a couple of times once. He opened fractionally the door but a hand from outside pushed the door open completely.

"Good evening, Freyjadour," said a smooth, female voice.

Freyjadour was surprised to see the woman just by his doorstep. A woman with a pale skin like Freyjadour, body adorned with a purple, flowing gown and long gold-like brown hair with violet highlights tied high in the head like a crown in sections by blue beads, smiled mildly. Her shoulders were covered with a cape whose top was a mountain tiger's fur. The icy blue designs on the bottom part of her cape looked like hot, burning flames or steaming ice. This extravagant clothing gave her a majestic air. With how regal her eyes were, it's not easy to argue about it.

The woman was not alone though. Behind her was a familiar man Freyjadour knew, but he appeared to be a soldier. He was a handsome man with a short, spiky black hair. His square-jaw face and black eyes looked matured, experienced, and serious but the kind smile on his lips made him looked fatherly. This was probably the smiles he gave his son who Freyjadour always called "the McDohl kid" or the "that boy."

Freyjadour noticed that only the two of them were on his doorstep—the Court Magician of Emperor Barbarossa, Windy and one of the Great Generals, Teo McDohl, the father of that boy—er, the McDohl Kid...

"Court Magician Windy," said Freyjadour, not hiding his surprise. "General Teo McDohl, good evening! Is there anything I could do for you?"

"I am accompanying Lady Windy. She wished to meet with you and suggested that I should too," said Teo.

Freyjadour's surprise disappeared but he was a bit nervous. When he was young, he was used meeting important people, but in the Scarlet Moon Empire, he's been known as a local commoner in Gregminister. Freyjadour knew how popular he was. He couldn't possibly believe it reached even the palace's ears. That was humiliating.

"Please come in," he said, stepping aside. Honestly, he hoped they would decline. He didn't want any trouble...why was he expecting one?

Teo's smile suddenly disappeared and a frown appeared on his face instead. His dominant hand held on the hilt of his sword and his body faced sideways.

Freyjadour and Lady Windy noticed the general's behaviour and soon felt the dangerous presence near by. Two swords were drawn out.

"Frey, get inside, it's getting late," came Lazlo's voice. He approached with his dual swords drawn out. General Teo became extremely cautious and alarmed for the man hadn't dropped his weapon yet. The general spread his feet apart and his grip to the hilt was tight. The two warriors appeared they were going to fight.

Freyjadour was again surprised. "Lazlo, it's Court Magician Windy—" Freyjadour's voice was cut and a shiver ran down on his spine. He had glanced at Lady Windy whose face must be angered. Instead, he found her smiling and starring at him...dare he say the word? Suggestively.

Freyjadour stepped backwards a little. This went unnoticed to Teo who was watching Lazlo's relaxed position, making it difficult to predict his move.

"You must be the guardian of the two children in the manor," said Teo, deciding to start a conversation rather than keeping it quiet. It also made it easier to understand the intentions and motive of an opponent. Duels, like what they were going to have, were more exciting and honourable if there were more than swords that are going to meet.

"I wouldn't say children," said Lazlo. "But that particular boy there is younger than he looks."

Teo didn't understand what Lazlo said but made no comment about it. "Why do you draw your swords? We are not here on official business."

"That's what I thought." Lazlo's swords were still drawn out.

Freyjadour observed Lazlo's behaviour and his odd responses. As much as he tried to understand it, Lady Windy's gaze made him uncomfortable.

Lady Windy closed her eyes and turned to Lazlo this time. Her smile was amused. "I just wanted to see this talented man personally. General McDohl, this young man is very intellectual and strong with martial arts and weapons. You know how rare it is to find talented youths."

"They keep on coming out in numbers every generation," replied Teo, amused. "How old are you, Lazlo? You can't be older than this man."

"I actually am," answered Lazlo unhelpfully. "Not older than Lady Windy though."

"Making me feel old?" asked Lady Windy with a hint of coldness. "Perhaps some other time then. General McDohl, thank you for accompanying me. The man might be a bit ill-tempered at the moment from an exhausting trip."

"Of course, Lady Windy," answered Teo obediently. He let go of his guard slowly as the Court Magician walked away and Lazlo making no attempt to follow. He glanced at Freyjadour and nodded approvingly.

"I would like to meet you again, Freyjadour. My son has been speaking highly of you. I'm sure his reasons are mighty true." The general then followed Lady Windy, his lemon yellow cape, overused yet looking new, billowing as he turned.

Freyjadour hesitantly nodded, now confused. When the two left, Lazlo sheathed his dual swords, walking in front of Freyjadour. It was only up close and in the light did Freyjadour see that Lazlo was pale.

"Lazlo, where did you go?" asked Freyjadour with a demanding voice. He'd never seen Lazlo so pale.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Frey," he answered with a smile. This smile looked so different, holding no carefree or joking thoughts. "Wake up early, Frey. We will talk tomorrow," Lazlo repeated seriously when Freyjadour was about to protest. Lazlo wearily closed his eyes. "I need to talk to Miakis first."

Lazlo closed the door behind him as he entered, leaving Freyjadour standing.

"The royal family is in a mess again..."

"Yes, yes, with the death of the Queen and the situation of the princess, Falena is doomed! The prince is useless. Perhaps if he marries a Godwin..."

" Or a Barrows! Honestly though, I don't think it would work."

"It seemed like Lady Sialeeds is planning to take on the throne rather than to hand it over to anyone."

"That woman..."

"She was supposed to marry Gizel Godwin, right? Then the Godwins will finally take the turn this time then."

"You never know. Lady Sialeeds might hold the Sacred Games for her. Marrying a queen is rather different. The past won't have anything to do with it."

"Lady Sialeeds can't be queen. She doesn't have any rights to the throne anymore. The prince would have to marry either a Godwin or a Barrows for a queen to be chosen."

"A Godwin or a Barrows QUEEN?"

"Hmm...Lady Lucerina of the Barrows seemed to be a fine choice for the prince..."

The mouths of the nobles were no different from the mouths of the local people. And so they continued to think they are higher and better than them when they could be as thick and low like them. Freyjadour had endured all the mutterings and all the issues he was put up. He had endured the death of his parents and the shock of almost losing his sister. His sister hadn't woken up but she was saved from death. This scar will always be in her, rendering her slower and unable to do normal tasks easily. She could still be Queen...if she wakes up.

Days and days, he tried to become stronger. He was always alone then. No one had consoled him, no one had shared sympathies with him, no one was with him...When his sister woke up she was still the same for Freyjadour. She opened her eyes but saw nothing. Freyjadour knew she was still Lymsleia but enough was enough.

"The prince is WHAT?"

"He wants to take the throne!"

"So the prince is taking advantage of the fact he is the only one in the royal bloodline that can inherit the throne...being a boy, he doesn't have the rights at all!"

"Haha, the lost of his parents may have made him a fool!"

He had called an audience, called the temporary Queen, his aunt, Sialeeds for an audience. Nobles—Godwins, Barrows, and the Queen's Knights—

"Queen Sialeeds," he declared loudly. "My mother, Queen Arshtat is dead, as well as my father, King Ferid and Commander of the Queen's Knights. Princess Lymsleia, my sister, is now blind and injured. I am the only one left, son of Queen Arshtat who holds the blood of my royal ancestors. I wish to borrow my sister's rights to the throne for the Queendom of Falena until she can rebuild her heart and mind."

Queen Sialeeds, her hair still dyed in brown, arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you so bold, Prince Freyjadour? Calling out an audience and making an impossible request..."

Freyjadour's heart stopped. "An impossible request?"

Queen Sialeeds laughed. "You think you can 'borrow' your sister's rights to the throne? Perhaps you want to steal it, being a male who can never inherit the throne..."

"I have no plans of stealing it!" shouted Freyjadour indignantly. "I want it for—"

"We don't need what you want, Prince," interrupted Queen Sialeeds. "We need what Falena needs. I think the decision has been made. Thank you for letting us witness your selfish—"

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?" he roared angrily.

"You dare interrupt, question and raise your voice to the Queen!" bellowed Queen Sialeeds. The unusual act of his aunt made Freyjadour falter in his stand. His happy-go-lucky, drunken aunt...

"Prince Freyjadour, for your act of selfishness, I tried to show mercy and let you go as if it never happened, but to persistently push forward, and go so far to deny the Queen's decisions, you must be punished! While I am queen of Falena, you are not to step inside my country! Your sister will suffer the same fate for your evil intentions and hunger for power! From now on, you two are going to live and die in the northern country, the Scarlet Moon Empire! You should consider yourself most fortunate for not landing in New Armes Kingdom!"

Once again, the room was bright but Freyjadour's mind was dark. The same ceiling, the same room...never the same life.

"Lym!" Freyjadour called, buttoning the cuffs of his hip-length midnight blue cloth jacket whose straps were tied across, keeping the jacket locked together. Inside his jacket, reaching his waist was a loose white shirt. His bottom was a mahogany pants and his footwear consisted of black sandals. He had looked around the second floor if Lazlo was there. Lymsleia and Miakis were also out of their beds already. Freyjadour had overslept a bit.

"Lym, Miakis," he called around as soon as he reached downstairs. "Lazlo?"

No one was around the house.