A/N: This story attempts to explain the reason why Edward and Bella falls in love that quickly. As you read, please note that:
- This story is meant to offend neither of these:
+ Code Geass and anime fans in general.
+ Twilight fans. I appreciate the author's work, I do. This is juts a fixfic to try to see, from a particular POV, what was happening.
+ Fan of anything else included here. Yes, a Battle Royale between Ciel of the Burial and Edward Cullen would be fun, but that is not what I am planning. Yes, it would be fun to have Edward tearing apart a Mammoth Tank or a Gold Dragon with bare hand, but there is no need to. So yeah.
- Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners:
+ Code Geass and Ruroushu Ranperouji belongs to Sunrise Entertainment.
+ Twilight *sigh* belongs to Stephenie Meyer, of course.
+ Tsukihime and all related stuffs are proud products of TYPE-MOON.
+ CnC: Tiberium Wars and the Black Hands came into this world thanks to EA Games.
+ Finally, Neverwinter and its people owe their existence to Bioware and the Dungeon and Dragons predecessors.
Now... it's time to READ and Enjoy, and don't forget to review!
The Gift of Geass
A Code Geass/Twilight Crossover, with Neverwinter Nights, Tsukihime and Tiberium Wars Reference
His name is Edward Cullen. And he's a vampire. Which means immortality. Which means superpower that even the Dark Knight and Green Lantern had to envy. And which means, somehow, he just has to undergo the horrors of high school for all eternity in the most literal sense – boring, bossy teacher who is anywhere from half to a third his own age, classmates who act out in the silliest way imaginable, at least when you have ten times their age and at least that many times their wisdom. And not to mention high-school romance as they call it. Something he could barely understand, if at all, judging from the deadly twisted flow of blood taking root in his veins rather than real, nourishing blood, the inhumanly venom that makes even the slightest romantic thought morbid and/or actually deadly. Ouch. Just… ouch.
Still, as long as he went to school, his superiority in all aspect that an average student needed to survive the blasted place meant that he could stay there for as long as he wanted. His perfectly teenage form is to be blamed though – had his maturity not remained in that flesh cover of a 17-year-old who needed to go to school to avoid trouble, he would have been better off somewhere else. Like a castle in Central Europe? Or an underground warren? Or an alchemist's lab? Or better still, he's heard that there is a certain… mercenary group called the Black Hand of Nod that might need some help – good one, but not for children, they said, because "white phosphorus flame is not to be tinkered about by the inexperienced, says Kane."
At least there's a good point – he wouldn't need to fear a certain famed Burial vampire huntress by the name Ciel to mistake him for her blood enemy and proceed to slash him in half with her world-vampire-famous Black Key Technique.
And then something happened. Something… out of the world, even to the most out-of-the-world creature that the human race has ever encountered. Something that would change his life forever, in a way foreign to his own, age-fortified wisdom. Something that took him by surprise on the street on the way back home from school one day, in the form of an armored warrior from another dimension. That sounded too insane to be true, but it did happen.
"In the name of Tyr," a voice called out from virtually behind him, whence he was sure there was absolutely nothing just a minute ago, "let Justice be delivered! Death to the evil!"
Promptly twisting back, Edward's eyes caught the visage of a… woman. A beautiful one, when he was at it. That is, if a vampire could see an elven – that ear was unmistakable - knight in full paladin armor, with a longsword and a shield of Order to fit, with holy magic in her hands to boost it all with as beautiful – not sunlight, which makes him sparkle, but holy magic. The kind of glow as in crosses and holy water that can actually cause his kind to melt, as if caught in the epicenter of a nuclear explosion. And from the look on her face, she would not hesitate to throw that mass of as-poisonous-as-uranium-radiation magic at him at the smallest provocation with the sole purpose of eradication.
"Who… are you?" demanded Edward. "What do you want with me?"
"Aribeth de Tylmarande, the proud Elven Paladin in service of the Even Handed God of Justice and the city of Neverwinter," replied the attacker ceremoniously, as she gathered energy in her palm, glowing threateningly to the vampire. "In the name of the Just God, I have come here to help eradicate the universe of the vile spawn of Darkness!"
An instinctively survivalistic barrel roll took Edward aside, as the elven knight raised her hands, chanting loudly in an unknown language, as if in praise of her patron god, and then let loose a colorful spray of light from the Higher Heaven right on the slab of pavement he was standing on a second ago. His move was a wise one – the intensity of the aurous beam was sufficient to leave a burning mark on the asphalt, which would as well incinerate him had he not stepped aside.
And then the column of light actually shifted towards him, as if itself being an incarnation of a vampire-seeking particle beam cannon, searing the asphalt as it moved right on him, bent on swallowing him whole. He promptly swerved out of its way as it closed on him, just in time so that the beam cannon of holy magic could sear part of his hair and bleach a significant portion of his collar. So much for his new attire, just gotten in his 104th birthday.
The next danger came to his awareness as a cutting pain in his arm, as the armored woman glided towards him, catching him defenseless following the maneuver, and, with a speed no less superhuman than his own, slashed him across his right arm in a move positively disarming enough to put that appendage out of service for some time. Simultaneously did the pain and the astonishment hit him, causing an involuntary flinch.
As if there was time to recover, for the next attack by the warrior-woman aimed straight for his heart of all places, just when he was out of momentum to carry out any further maneuvers. The way that elven Aribeth de Tylmarande glided through the air was no less professional than the vampire hunters he and his kind feared. The next thought left him rather numb – was this attacker, by any chance, happened to be a Burial agent in disguise? If so, he was doomed for sure.
And he was going to be, that's for certain. The sudden attack left him no other place to run, except for… death?
"Lelouch Vi Britannia Commands: Stop where you are!"
A sudden, dramatically sharp and commanding voice sprang up in the opposite direction, in a tone readily translated as springing from social and/or capacity superiority, that went over his shoulder from behind, at such an intensity that it cut him from the mortal danger for half a second. And when he was back in sense, strangely, his chest felt no pain of a vampire being culled with a certain something nailed through his heart. He was safe and sound, an improbability judging from how close to the verge of destruction he had been just a second ago.
As if it wasn't clear enough, Edward sprang backwards, and his next glance at his pursuer revealed a sight unlike anything he had been previously acquainted to. There his attacker stood before him, her sword and shield still in her hand, but her face no longer bore any sense of danger to him. She had been absolutely entranced, her elven eyes turning slightly red, her arms dangling down motionlessly, her armor frozen where it was, as if completely seized by something too odd to be true.
The voice.
The notion hit Edward sooner than enough, following the footsteps coming towards him in rhythm – whoever was approaching must have had the habit to execute everything in style. Whether that was good or bad, he didn't know. But it was fabulous, and especially so when Edward whipped himself backward to face the newcomer.
It turned out that Edward's savior – if he was right – was someone, as so it seemed superficially, even more inferior to him than his classmates. At least the so-called hot boys in class knew how to stand tall and raise some muscles. This chap was a complete gnome, standing more than eight inches shorter than Edward, at most, and from the look of his skinny form, Edward would not be surprised if he couldn't lift something heavier than two stones. Screw his vampire powers, even with bare fists, he could punch a hole in his skull in a fraction of a second.
But then, the American standard on significance of strength is not always right. Didn't Edward himself look down on those jocks at school because they didn't know squat except for showing off their muscles to girls and wooing the ladies? But this… newcomer, he was something different. The intellect flashing from his eye was of such a high level that Edward would not be astonished if the stranger was any way more intelligent, or even wiser than himself. It felt as if God had created an ultra-misbalance, by alleviating the mental attributes of a person to such a level that his physical shell was even lesser than that of an ordinary geek.
And his garment was the peek of extravaganza. Skip that amazingly long sword he held over his shoulder, which Edward doubted he must have lifted with all due difficulties, the white robe he bore was such that no other garment on earth could have matched its uniquely luxury and ceremoniousness. It was the clothing even kings and queens would wear only sparingly, in special occasions where they are the center of the limelight. How, or why, he got to wear such an item on the suburban streets of Forks was questionable in its own rights.
"The female Lord Paladin of the Neverwintan Temple of Tyr was more… susceptible than I thought," the figure spoke when he was within an arm's length from a still perplexed Edward. "No, let me correct. Geass is THAT powerful."
"It is impolite to barge in without introducing yourself," Edward reminded.
All at once the visage turned to him – the brownish-black hair of a youngster no older than Edward's own physical appearance, however vivid it was, could do squat to hide the fact that his form was ethereal in appearance, that of a dead person reanimated into a wondering soul without a destination, or, rather, not wishing to contain himself in a destination yet. Or was it the estranged look of the "ghost from the future" as depicted in human speculative fiction that Edward was seeing? Or the unexisting-yet-existing appearance of a planeswalker, a stalker of dimensions, a traveler of different universes? Or both? One thing he was certain of, that person who had saved him was both there and not there – he was real, and yet not real in a sense.
"Watashi wa Ruroushu Ranperouji desu," replied the figure in a language Edward didn't know, but perhaps that was done for kicks, for a translation was produced right afterwards. "I am called… Lelouch Lamperouge by my enemies and friends alike. Unless you prefer Lelouch Vi Britannia, which I don't."
"What an odd name… for an odd visage that goes," Edward said.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Lelouch replied, dipping his blade on the pavement symbolically. "In an age when war is carried out by Knightmare frames, that is not uncommon a name."
"I don't know what you are talking about, but thanks nevertheless for saving my life just now," Edward replied, concealing his pondering. "But I must ask you the reason why you saved me. If you know who that woman is, you must also know that I am…"
"A vampire. A wretched human by a certain standard. A heavily built warrior capable of shredding a Glasgow-class Knightmare Frame into pieces with his bare hands in seconds by another," Lelouch Lamperouge nodded. "And often, fate has its own ways of telling humanity to stop, by leaving the destiny of mankind into the hands of creatures not human themselves."
"What is your point?" Edward asked back.
"I am here to inform you of an important fact," Lelouch said, gazing straight into Edward's eyes, "as well as to give you an offer."
"What fact? What offer?" Edward's curiosity blurted.
"It is actually not you that destiny is dealing with," Lelouch answered, "but rather the person you will call your wife, and the girl you will sire with her. A certain Renesmee, whom, interestingly, isn't even born yet."
"May I ask you if there is any point to this story?" Edward spoke, his patience drying up rather quickly.
"You are to meet a human schoolgirl in school sooner than you may think, Edward Cullen, and you will have to love her. And make her love you in the same time," Lelouch answered promptly, as if the matter was one simple enough. "Bella Swan. Remember that name."
"What if… I don't love her?" Edward asked back, his vampiric eyes bewildered. "I haven't loved a single woman in my whole life with courtly love, for your information."
"You can do, or you can die," Lelouch shook his head adamantly. "Today or tomorrow, a woman, an elder one, when I am at it, will consult you, by the name of Esem. She will basically order you to love her, in a manner not as peacefully as I am doing now, I'm afraid."
"What? Who do you think you are, threatening me like that?" Edward roared mildly.
"Don't you understand how you survived the influenza in the 1918s? How many humans are lucky enough to have such a fate? Don't you think you are a little bit too lucky for your own good? Isn't it too coincidental that your adoptive parents happen to be vampires of all people, who happen to be right there and then to help you when everyone else dies?"
Lelouch Lamperouge's account struck Edward's soft spot. Many a time he had wondered what would have happened if all that luck hadn't been his. Not that he had a reason to care – he was now living extremely happily with his parents, albeit adoptive ones, and there was actually no issue with that, at least in the near future. The notion of the question and the complete lack of answer thereof tumbled Edward into a state of entrancement for a good while.
"Esem is the essence of the Word of God, Edward Cullen," Lelouch calmly explained. "She basically is responsible for grafting events in place, where it is supposed to be, so that you can stand here before me, rather than dying in one of those cramped mass graves. So that Fate will take its due course," Lelouch sighed. "But alas, even she does not understand what Fate is all about, and she has her own purpose."
"What would you say if I tell you I don't understand a thing from what you have said?" Edward spurned.
"Esem basically created you, Edward Cullen," Lelouch replied, with a mild disappointment. "Her purpose is to create a shining example of how love between a human and a vampire can come to triumph. Of how… romantic and heartwarming True Love can get. And for that purpose, if she finds you… unsuitable for that cause, as in, if you can't love the woman she wants you to, she can completely unwrite your history, uncreating Edward Cullen the Vampire totally, and that isn't beautiful at all, both to you… and to me," emphasized Lelouch. "And MY world, when I am at it."
"What are you babbling?" Edward asked, but Lelouch's so-serious-it-looked-scary ice-cold look froze him in place. "Alright, so if I am to believe you, and I do like you say, throw myself at that Bella girl as if I love her – don't know if I will, but that's quite unlikely – what if she doesn't love me?"
"That is where my offer comes in," Lelouch stepped forth, standing barely a foot from Edward, as he shot a glance at the now-frozen Aribeth de Tylmarande. "You saw this woman, didn't you?"
"She tried to kill me," Edward nodded. "And it looked like it was you who stopped her."
"Yes, I admit. It would be way too ugly if the fate of the world is laid on the shoulder of a dead vampire," Lelouch answered. "I stopped her by the power of Geass – the power to force a command of absolute obedience on another being. I ordered her to, for this instance, stop right in her track, before she could kill you."
"How do you pronounce that again?" Edward rolled his eyes. "Gearass?"
"Geass," repeated Lelouch with double the integrity.
"Wait," Edward gasped. "Did you just say "absolute control" or did I hear it wrong?"
"Yes, I did, and I mean it," Lelouch gave a sly grin. "With this power, I can, with some minor limitations, of course, tell people to do whatever I want them to, including ordering them to love me even though I never do that myself. But you can, and you will. That is my offer – give you my gift of Geass, for you to keep the cogs in its place."
"And what exactly am I supposed to do?" Edward asked.
"Simple," Lelouch smiled, a rather evil smile. "It is easy to have a girl love you when you can basically rewrite her entire mindset, that you are her one and only true love, isn't it? Unless, of course, you are foolish enough to not understand what I say."
"Brainwashing?" gasped Edward.
"Hypnotizing, brain grafting, brainwashing, entrancing… you name it."
"That is too inhuman and gruesome a power to have!" remarked Edward, his eyes bewildered with a certain degree of disgust. "I shall not take that gift that will rip freedom of the mind from those I know!"
"Do you think you have a choice?" Lelouch's grin at this point looked almost diabolical in its look to Edward Cullen, a degree of evilness he had never seen before, a purposeful, lawful evil, something quite scary enough to drive the powerful vampire back at the sheer look of the skinny being. The winged, unfamiliar sigil taking the place of his inner iris looked dead serious to Edward, what it meant, Edward had better not think about. "Would you want to do it yourself, or would you want ME to GEASS YOU into DOING it?"
******
Edward still couldn't believe what was happening, even today, even now, when the teacher was announcing the presence of the new girl, Bella Swan, into his class. Even now he wished to believe what Lelouch had told him was a lie, that he didn't possess the curse of that diabolical figure, that his eye did not turn into the deformed mockery of its former self by now, with a friggin' sigil embedded onto it, visible whenever he just looked into the mirror very closely. It was nothing very noticeable, but just the sign of a foreign object in his body made him feel somewhat squeamish.
Geass.
He tried it more than once already, and it worked every time, a frightening efficiency. Although he hadn't gone too far with them, if he could make the neighborhood paperboy hand over his entire crate of delivery – which he later fulfilled – he could have very well make him plunge a pen knife into his chest in a stylish way. Judging from the dreamy, reddish eyes he had when the deed was done, he wouldn't care less even if the order would cost him his life. A very efficient tool, were him Dracula or the likes, and he was not – Chaotic Good is far from Chaotic Evil.
Geass.
He didn't seem to have a lot of choices then, and not even later. Albeit, it might be true that Ruroushu Ranperouji had exaggerated it a lot. Esem, as he met her later on in the day, was not really scary in either look or demeanor, though her fervent belief in what she thought was right, however improbable, was too strong, rendering it impossible to actually convince her of the scheme's impossibility. And if he was right about the entire uncreation stuff… it would be better not to try, after all. In the end, he simply was forced to love this Bella Swan, as well as her to love him, by more than one belligerent.
Geass.
For some reason, that five-letter-word could now no longer escape his mind, as if it had been embedded into his brain, like a brain bug as depicted in movies and films all over.
"True love, and Renesmee "Carlie" Bi Britannia," Edward wrestled with his thought. "As if I could care more about it…"
Only then did the classroom door open, and into the room came a visage, one that would change his life forever…
******