A/N: …Wow, it's just been so long since I've posted a story, or tried to write anything with actual chapters! I'm so not used to this.
Anyway, my sister asked me to write her a fanfic. "I want something with Link in it!" were pretty much my guidelines. She and I both know that currently I won't do anything that doesn't have Lelouch in it, and so a crossover was born. I actually have no idea where this story is meant to go. In fact I don't know if I'll be writing anymore for a while. It's more of a casual thing to help stimulate my writing gland. (Haha, I have a LuluSuza/SuzaLulu fic I still need to finish…)
This is mostly random, though probably not as humorous as I was originally going for. The "boy"'s name in this chapter isn't mentioned for a reason. If I get around to a second chapter you might find out why. I don't think there'll be any pairings n.n;
Oh yeah, disclaimer. I don't own either fandoms in this crossover, or the characters or anything.
Chapter One: Into a Fairy Tale Land
Perhaps he should have listened to the green-haired witch when she had gone on about this sort of thing.
Hadn't she mentioned it? Multiple realities existed like multiple threads creating a sweater, and on occasion they supposedly crossed and there were rips in the barriers that held them separate. Something like that. Of course it had seemed like pointless rambling to him at the time, and he had been trying to sleep…Instead of listening he had pulled a pillow over his head and snapped at her. In the end he had retained…pretty much nothing. He only remembered vague mentions of multiple realities and occasional crossings.
Basically he was downstream without a paddle, or a canoe, or…anything, for that matter.
All that he could remember was going through a day like he usually would, with the waking up and the coffee and the breakfast and the sleeping through classes. When he ditched gym he had decided to sneak off to his favorite spot for reading; the roof of the second year classroom building, but that's where things had decided to go…very wrong.
Book in hand, he had simply opened the door. That was all he had done. The moment the door finished a full one-eighty, everything went fuzzy and he felt sick to his stomach. There was an odd sensation, like every fiber of his being pulled in a very different direction, to the point where he believed he would be torn apart. Then he blacked out.
Things like that didn't just happen. But that didn't stop it from happening to him.
Now he was definitely not at school on top of a building. In fact he didn't believe he was in Japan at all for that matter, and there weren't even any buildings around as far as he could see. It was a vast green plain with spots of what he thought might have been a sort of road (at one point, at least) made of light gray stone, and the grass was dotted in places with ruins of a similar sort of stone. There wasn't anyone around. It was quiet besides birds and bugs, and the weather was gently warm with a fragrant breeze.
All in all it would have been rather pleasant and relaxing if he wasn't completely confused and on the verge of panicking. This place almost looked like some sort of fairy tale scenery in its untouched perfection, and had the air of something from older times…if that made any sense. It was just the feeling he got from it.
Japan had been around for a while but there weren't places like this anymore. Maybe he hadn't seen all of Japan, but it didn't feel like Japan. It didn't smell like Japan. It didn't sound like Japan! More so now that Japan was Area 11, and therefore thoroughly cultivated and "civilized". There would have at least been buildings within view, and that city smell would've taken over any country air still lingering. The boy was starting to get very unnerved and desperately tried to recall what his accomplice had told him about such odd things. But what if it was all a dream? That had to be it. He had heard talk of alternate realities coexisting and now his subconscious was exploring the idea in his sleep. There was definitely no way that such a thing could ever exist. There was only one reality. That reality was very mysterious and confusing, but there was only one! How could multiple realities even exist? They wouldn't be able to. One reality was complex enough already. It would be like trying to add files to a full hard drive. The ideas and make-up of a reality were too much for multiple ones to coexist.
…Right? That was it, wasn't it?
He was still in the black and gold uniform, lying in the short but cushion-like grass. The sky was bright blue and the sun shone just like the one he was familiar with, off on one side and threatening to blind him. Puffy white clouds occupied the vast expanse of blue in very sparse numbers with plenty of space between them. Everything was similar, and yet there was still that different feeling that occupied every partical of matter. A breeze rustled the grass and his hair alike, a very pleasant brush of invisible fingers that contained that oddly sweet hint to it. It was lovely and cool, but not chilly, and even now as he worried and threatened to work himself into a fit with his ridiculous tendency to over analyze everything, it was comforting. Even as, deep down, he knew that this wasn't a dream, he wanted to make himself believe it was true. Perhaps if he could believe such a thing strongly enough, it would be true. But he already understood very well that no matter how strongly you believe anything, the truth is cold and unchanging. Despite having this knowledge firmly lodged in his brain, he calmed some. If there was a way here there had to be a way back, he would convince himself. That much he could manage. There wasn't any use in getting so bent out of shape, anyway. He would just find a way back and then learn all he could about these coexisting realities so he could avoid this happening ever again. Fretting would only hinder his progress.
With those comforting his thoughts turned a tad sluggish and he found himself simply lounging like he would have done on the rooftop, provided he had actually made it to the rooftop. A shimmering golden beetle flew lazily by, its wings making a low humming noise. He thought the gold color to be odd, but it was pretty. Then he began to ponder the differences between golden bugs and the bugs he knew.
All in all he didn't know how much time he eventually wasted away on his back in the field. The sun was determinedly working its way across the sky and he could vaguely calculate the hours that had passed and what time it was, provided things worked the same way in…wherever he was. The logical side of his brain spoke up intelligently and reminded him that despite the pleasant weather, it would probably get cold once the sun set, and with no buildings in plain sight, he should get moving. It would be best to look for establishments and learn more about this place, but if he couldn't find anything before maybe an hour or two before nightfall, he would need to make a sort of camp. That wasn't his forte at all, so he would have to put most of his effort towards the former option. There were large mountains and cliffs around, so for all he knew there could be a place located behind them and he'd just need to follow a path that led through them. It seemed like a reasonable place to start, if there was actually an easy way to get through the mountains. If he had to climb, he would scrap that plan and come up with somewhere else to look.
The grass silenced most of his movements as he got to his feet and began to brush himself off. He straightened the blazer of his uniform and fixed his hair, although it was more out of habit than anything. There wasn't any real need to fix himself up to go tromping around some barren plain in search of civilization. Perhaps if he eventually found a civilization he would need to look a little less like he had been thrown here from a completely different reality (which he had, except that wasn't the point), but the actual searching part didn't require him to look…any way at all.
A terrible thought hit him and he shuddered in displeasure.
What if there weren't any people living in this reality? What if he searched and searched and walked until he couldn't take another step, and didn't find anyone? What if he didn't find anyone because there wasn't anyone to be found?
It wasn't as if he needed people to get back to his own reality, even if he had absolutely no idea how one was supposed to go about searching for another reality. But to be completely and utterly alone in this odd place without a clue of what he should be doing was a very terrifying thought. Not that he couldn't handle being alone. It was mainly the not knowing what to do part that scared him.
He shook his head to rid himself of the notion for now so he could focus on trying to find someone before jumping to such conclusions. Straightening his posture, he took the first step in the direction of the mountains he had been hoping hid his prize. Immediately he took notice of a sound that definitely wasn't that of the bugs or birds he had grown somewhat used to hearing in his few hours of idle pondering. In fact he could almost feel it in the ground as well, like something large moving towards him. As it grew closer the sound of something heavy near-galloping became more distinct.
When he turned, he was more confused than anything.
A group of huge boars were heaving themselves forward in his direction. They all looked the same: a dark brown color with huge tusks and hard eyes, and each of them was equipped with reins and a saddle that could've easily sat two or three people. For the most part that seemed to be the point.
The only word he could come up with to describe them was "troll", or perhaps "goblin". Each boar carried two or three of the lanky, ugly creatures with green skin and eyes that matched their steeds'. They seemed to be right out of the same fairy tale this world was from, a perfect rendition of the mythical creatures he had heard about in bedtime stories as a child. It appeared that they were also as cruel as the stories all mentioned, and despite the increasingly dangerous situation he half wondered to himself if the creatures hadn't actually been made up; what if the authors had had similar experiences themselves? But that could be pondered another time, when his life wasn't in potential danger. The things had spotted him and were headed right for him, so much so that he actually began to worry that they might try and run him over with the huge beasts. From far away the boars hadn't seemed that big, but as they drew closer and their hooves shook the ground with their weight, they were definitely at least as tall as he was. The goblin things were also armed, he noted, some with swords and some with bows and arrows. Although they brandished their weapons and jeered in odd sounds he couldn't make heads or tails of, they had yet to actually fire any arrows at him.
Eyes narrowing, he considered running for no more than a brief second. It was a stupid idea, as there wasn't any way he could outrun the boars, even if he had gotten started when they were far off. If they wanted to catch him they could easily do so on those charging animals, and if they didn't like that he was running, they could shoot him down. Seeing as he wasn't too keen on getting a sharp object lodged in any part of his body, he opted instead to stand his ground, feet planted firmly at hips' width apart, hands clenched into fists at his side, and a hard expression mirroring that of the foul creatures a challenge for them to dare approach him.
If anything it seemed to amuse them. They continued onwards, the distance between them rapidly closing until he could clearly hear the sounds they were making. It was impossible to tell if the sounds were actually words or merely gibberish, like a sort of battle cry. Goblins were stupid, weren't they? Maybe they only made noises like any other animal.
Instead of running him over they surrounded him, and the immense size of the boars was enough to easily close off any escape route, unless he wanted to try ducking under their huge bellies. But he didn't want to risk getting his head smashed under a deadly looking hoof. Both parties seemed to be sizing one another up, all of the beady eyes locked on him, and in turn his eyes were calmly and confidently locked on the ones in front of him. There was mostly silence apart from the loud breathing of the boars and a few noises from the goblins themselves.
At this close proximity he was able to discern more detail about them than he had ever wanted.
There was a foul stench about them, but he couldn't tell if it was from the boars or the goblins. In his opinion it was probably both. The goblins wore raggedy clothes, filthy garments that were very crude in form, some of which almost seemed to be an attempt at a sort of armor. It was difficult to tell anything about their plan of action or what they might have wanted from him. At the very least he could tell that they were indeed hostile and probably didn't want to invite him home for tea. However he also got the feeling that they were curious about him. Their ugly, oval-shaped heads were constantly in motion, turning this way and that as if to get a different view of him so that they might study him more thoroughly. All the while he refused to move and stood firmly, but not tensely, and regarded them with strong, defiant eyes. Nothing else happened for a good handful of minutes. In fact it was long enough for his anxiety to turn into something more like impatience, and he was considering trying to find out if his Geass would work on goblin things when one of them finally "spoke" to the group. Again he couldn't understand it, and wasn't even sure if it was actually speaking, but the others reacted as if it had been some sort of communication.
The one directly behind him grabbed the back of his uniform and hefted him up roughly with a surprising amount of strength, for the things almost seemed to be shorter than him. Even if he was startled, it only crossed his face for a fraction of a second, and he refrained from making a sound. There wasn't much of a point in struggling, even as revulsion wrung his stomach like a towel and threatened to make him throw up.
Instead of being merciful captors and simply letting him dangle off the side of the beast, they had placed him directly between the two goblins occupying the saddle.
He was sandwiched between disgusting, reeking bodies atop a very hard leather slab that couldn't have been more uncomfortable. In all honesty he thought that riding the animal bareback would have been more pleasant, and from his experience, bareback was definitely not when compared to a proper saddle.
For the first part of the ride he dealt with it all in silence, even the rough pokes the goblin behind him seemed incredibly interested in giving him every minute or so. The thing seemed even more curious now that he wasn't struggling or complaining, as he was sure every other captive of theirs had done. They seemed as if they did this sort of thing often. Grimly he wondered if they ate whatever they caught.
But it was nice to think that there were other people for them to catch.
Provided he would live long enough to find the other people they seemed so skilled in whisking off.
Even when he didn't breath from his nose, the stench seemed thick in the air itself, like a fog completely enveloping him and invading every orifice it could work its way into. Eventually he became so disgusted, uncomfortable, and irritated that he finally began to loudly demand things from them.
"What are you things?" His voice was haughty and loud, although the thumps of boar hooves on the grass still threatened to drown him out. The annoyance was thick in his tone, which seemed to amuse the one behind him as it gave him another hard poke in the side. This time he smacked away the claw-like hand and rubbed at the poor abused flesh through his clothes. He would definitely be surprised if he didn't have bruises. Although the one in front of him didn't respond, the one behind him made more of those sounds he figured was their way of talking. It was impossible to tell if it was angry, as their tone didn't change. To him they always sounded angry, but then again, German always sounded angry. The answer wasn't satisfactory.
"Where are you taking me? What do you want? This is incredibly uncomfortable, I'll have you know! Can you even understand what I'm saying?" The rapid fire questions continued, mostly because he was terribly frustrated, although it was also an attempt to distract himself from wanting to pass out.
It almost seemed like the one behind him gave a laugh of sorts, but it still didn't make any sounds he could actually understand. And so most of the rest of the trip was filled with his demands that went unheeded, only furtherly proving to rile him up, which meant an increase in volume and a more commanding tinge to his voice. Though their amusement lasted through much of it, they became annoyed as well. It probably would have been best for him to take a hint and shut up again, but he continued on and obtained the results he should have known would come of his actions.
Tired of having to deal with his blabbering and attitude, they vouched to shut him up for him, but in a much less pleasant way.
Stars exploded behind his eyes, coupled with the sharp pain in the back of his head. As everything faded and he slumped limply in the saddle, he still clearly understood that he had been hit with the handle of a sword. It was a degrading thought to lose consciousness to.