Dedicated to mrvoror and to everyone else who believed in me.

The Witch and the Shoemaker

It was uncommonly still and quiet as they entered the silver birch forest. The wind had mysteriously died down the moment they had stepped into the shadows. Even the birds were silent, as if they were watching them closely from the shadows. Lelouch glanced at the horizon – the sun was playing hide and seek, running between the slender trunks. If they didn't hurry soon, evening would fall, and who knew what dark and sinister beasts roamed in the anonymity of the night?

"He—"

She shushed him. Frowning, he was on the verge of ignoring her rather rude command to call her attention towards the rapidly darkening dusk, when she suddenly grabbed his hand and sprinted towards a large puddle in a clearing.

"It's not water." The words tumbled out of her mouth as they ran. "It's just an illusion, so don't react. The moment you start holding your breath, you'll be thrown back across the border. So whatever you do, don't hold your breath."

What was she— They were going to jump in. They were going to leap into the pond. He didn't know why they were going to, but the one thing that he did know was that he hated plunging into any kind of body of water, whether they be big or small. Because as much as he hated it, he had never quite gotten over his childhood fears of lakes and rivers, and even if it looked as if the pond only came up to his ankles, he clearly remembered the witch saying that it was an illusion. It'd probably come up over his head, and he panicked at the thought. Memories of being dragged down to the very bottom of the rushing river and the fire that had erupted in his lungs as he was trapped by his birth swamped him, clouding his judgment, and he did all he could not to relive the past. Digging his heels into the soft earth, he wrenched his hand free.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "We're running out of time. The sun is setting."

"I thought you said we were going to visit the elves."

"We are," she huffed impatiently. "This is the way to the elves."

"No, it's not. That's a pond."

He was being childish. He knew that he was, he could see it in the way she glared at him. But his fear, as childish as it was, was powerful and froze his heart over. He couldn't forget the desperation and the resignation he had felt at the bottom of the river, couldn't forget the way water rushed into his lungs when he finally gave in, and couldn't forget his violent trembling as he coughed up gallons of water and his ability to go near a body of water without breaking into a cold sweat, of the blood that had covered his back and the familiar agony of losing something irreplaceable and precious. He had nearly died then. Who was to say that he wouldn't die this time?

"Then you can wait here."

"How long will it take?"

She shrugged. "It depends on them, not me. It could take a few minutes, or go on for hours. It's not in my control."

He grimaced. He could just go home. Yes, he could just return home. But did he trust the witch? No, he didn't. Not really, anyway. He knew that she was bound to repay her debt to him, but any clever witch could wiggle out through a loophole. The Code never designated a time period – if she wished, she could leave and return the favor seventy years from now. If she wished, she could vanish, taking her power with her, until he would be far too old and decrepit to do anything useful with her magic.

"Did you say that it's an illusion?"

"Yes, which is why you're being ridiculous right now. I know how most fairies have an aversion to water, but this isn't real. You won't die. This is just a mechanism to guard against humans. Now are you coming or not? I don't have any time to waste. The gate closes the second night falls."

He glanced between the setting sun and the pond. He didn't trust her enough to leave her to return to him afterwards, and he wasn't strong enough to fend for himself against the strange beasts that lurked in the shadows. All he had left was to swallow his fear and follow, much to his displeasure.

Clenching his teeth, he subconsciously tightened his hold on her hand. She seemed to realize how anxious he was for the first time because her voice softened as she led him towards the waiting puddle.

"It'll be alright. Just remember to breathe normally. If you have to, focus on me."

His eyes flickered toward her as they teetered on the edge.

"Just focus on me," she whispered. He tried his best to hold his head high, even with the present situation he was in. His heart was pounding and a bead of sweat inched down his temple, but he refused to give in any more than he already had and obeyed. Looking to her for calm, for guidance as her free hand slowly rose and tightly fisted the collar of his shirt. She pulled him close, and by reflex, wrapped his arm around her waist. Breathing in her sweet perfume, he closed his eyes as the world turned over and the familiar rush of falling made him tingle.

His breath caught him when the water slapped him, and his eyes snapped open. He looked at her, his jaw clenched, as they sunk to the ground. Sunk to the ground? Weren't they supposed to float back up? What was…

He blinked up at the star-studded sky. Laying on the soft grass, he stared at the winking stars and listened to the orchestra of crickets practicing for their concert later in the evening. A comfortable weight rested on his shoulder, which was covered by a sheet of silky, green hair.

So this was the power of magic? He had never seen it firsthand before. So it could create illusions of ponds so real, he could feel the water kissing his skin but never actually wet him. He was beginning to understand why more and more of the fae were going into hiding – if humans were to realize just how strong and powerful their magic truly was…

"This day seems to be getting more and more interesting. I certainly wasn't expecting to see you today. How have you been faring, C.C.?"

As the witch rose and dusted herself off, Lelouch finally took notice of the bespectacled man standing at the edge of the clearing. Struggling up into a sitting position, he watched as she walked towards the…Elf? He certainly didn't look like an elf. He was tall – lanky, almost – and where were his ears? This was an elf?

"Well enough."

"We heard about a supposed witch hunt a few days ago. That wasn't you, was it?"

"It was more of a wild goose chase by a drunken mob than a witch hunt."

"I suspected as much. But anyhow. I presume you're not here just to say hello?"

"A few water nymphs decided that it would be funny to steal my shoes before throwing me into a lake."

The man tsked as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with one finger.

"Well, I would be more than happy to help you, though you'll have to speak to Cécile first before I start anything. You know how terribly upset she can get when you forget to greet her."

"How could I forget?" she grinned. "I still haven't been able to wash out the taste of her fish jelly out of my mouth yet."

He shuddered as his good-natured smile darkened into a terrified frown.

"Never again upset her. I don't think I can survive another force-feeding of Cécile's….Special cuisine. But I'm sure you'll make sure that it won't happy again, correct? In the meanwhile, who's your friend?"

"Him? Just someone who's decided to follow me around."

"A stalker?"

She scoffed. "He wouldn't have the skills to do that properly. He's just some farmer I'm helping. He decided to tag along."

The elf delicately sniffed the air, smelling the playful summer breeze.

"Hmmm, well, he shouldn't cause too much trouble. Are you planning on introducing me to him or do I have to do the honors myself?"

"He can very well introduce himself. Right, Lelouch?"

Grimacing, he joined the duo as he extended his hand and greeted the elf.

"Lelouch Lamperouge. It's nice to make your acquaintance."

"Lloyd of the Asplund clan. The pleasure is all mine. How do you know C.C.?"

"Like I said, Lloyd," interrupted the witch. "He's just someone I'm helping out."

"This little relationship isn't going to upset Rai, is it?" His eyes glinted dangerously as he said in a low voice, "Because I'm currently three weeks into an extremely delicate experiment, and I won't have you ruining my hard work."

"For something like that to be even plausible, I'd have to see him," she glanced at him, "as a man, ad I promise you that there is no way that I do."

Lloyd immediately cheered up. Smiling brightly, he vigorously shook Lelouch's hand as he said, "Welcome, Mr. Lamperouge, to our humble abode. Fortunately for you, most of the children have left due to a truffle hunt, so you shouldn't be in any immediate danger for the time being."

"Danger?"

"Well, there's no time to waste if we're to get some proper shoes for our resident witch. Off we go."

"Wait—"

But the fool had already been pulled towards the tree arch of golden light and faint music.

. . .

For lack of a better term, the elves lived in what looked like a gypsy camp. He remembered how there had been rumors that they were nomadic and thus were difficult to find, and he could see how the rumors hadn't been completely false this time. Wooden caravans, painted bright and vivid colors, formed a protective wall from the malevolent wilderness of the dark forest. A huge fire crackled in the center, over which some women were cooking various stews, while others shooed away curious hens or scruffy dogs looking for a pre-dinner treat. They paid no particular mind to the trio as they cut through the center and made their way to one of the larger tents, though he did earn a few glances. When a few of the elves realized what had entered their home, and their smiles faltered, C.C. pulled him closer as if he were a wayward child who needed his hand held. He would have protested normally, pulling himself free of her grasp, if it weren't for the somewhat hostile looks that were sent his way. Rather, he found himself walking on her heels and nearly stumbled into her when he realized a moment too late that they had come to a sudden stop.

Lloyd glanced over his shoulder, ordering them to wait until he made sure the coast was clear. Clear of what, Lelouch didn't really know, but he didn't particularly feel like finding out. Obediently waiting as the witch's shadow, he hovered behind her until he heard a loud crash from inside the tent their elven guide had cautiously crept into and the flap was ripped away to reveal a bright smile.

"C.C.! How nice of you to drop by!"

"It's nice to see you too, Cécile. How is everyone?"

With sparkling blue eyes, she warmly hugged he witch as she replied, "They would have been so much better if you had visited us more often. We all missed you so much, C.C. And we were all so worried about you. If you ever need shelter, we're open to you. You know that, don't you?"

"Thank you, Cécile. But you know I can't do that."

She sighed.

"But you can still visit us as often as you'd like."

"I will, the next time."

"So Lloyd tells me that you're in need of some shoes? It hasn't been long since your last pair. What happened?"

"I'll tell you when we're inside."

"Of course."

Lloyd sidestepped Cécile's dirty look as he fixed his glasses and they ducked into the tent. Clearing his throat, he said, "That wasn't exactly what I had been planning on happening, but at least we've gotten the inevitable over with."

"Ms. Cécile seems like a…A kind person."

"Oh, she is. She just isn't towards me, though I suppose her kindness is being my assistant for as long as she has. But anyhow, it'd probably be best to join the ladies. They can be quite a handful when they're unhappy. Shall we?"

"Do we have much of a choice?"

"Not really, no," he grinned.

. . .

"How did you say you two met?"

Staring at the witch, who was busy poring over a leather-bound book of designs with Lloyd, Lelouch muttered, "It's quite a long story."

"Hmm… Well, however it is that you met, it seems as if C.C. likes you," cheerfully commented Cécile. He couldn't help but snort at the ridiculousness of her assumption.

"Likes me? I seriously doubt that."

"If she didn't like you, why would she have brought you here?"

"And where exactly is here?"

"Her haven. The one place where she's always welcome and safe from all of the dangers of the outside world."

"Well, I don't know why she decided to drag me along, but I'm certain that it's not because she's taken a shining to me. Because she hasn't."

"I wouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions. Even with how long I've known her, I still haven't quite been able to make any sense of her. Though I don't think anyone has been able to. Well, maybe R—"

"Where's tman?"

The pair started as brightly colored balls of energy hurtled into the deceptively spacious tent. With a grunt, Lelouch fell hard and quickly found himself being pawed all over by twenty or so tiny hands as a herd of boys and girls crawled all over him, giggling, shrieking, and….Sniffing him?

"Children! Children, that's no way to treat a guest! Especially Ms. C.C.'s beau!"

"Mama, why is there such a strange smell coming from him?"

"He smells weird!"

"Like stewed cabbage!"

The children immediately pulled faces at the mention of the cursed soup that was often force-fed to them by their parents. Their nurse put her hands on her hips as she sternly scolded them.

"Apologize to our guest at once. That's no way to treat someone. Even humans have feelings that can be hurt."

"Not all of them though."

"Yeah, yeah! One time, Deirdre told me how she saw this hooman this one time, and he was eating cow meat! Cow meat! Can you believe that?"

There was a chorus of horrified and indignant gasps. One timid voice mumbled how they were going to throw up until the elderly woman – Mama – clapped her hands and sharply announced that they would be apologizing right this moment, lest they wished to be in bed while everyone else was dancing at the festival. The children instantly reached for Lelouch's hand with their sticky little fingers as they struggled to be heard over one another so that they could attend the celebration.

When the gang had slowly dispersed and scattered themselves around the tent, Mama approached him. Taking his hand in her own wrinkled and liver-spotted hand, she gently said, "I'm sorry, my dear. They're still only children so they have much to learn, and they've never really met a human up close."

"It's…" He cleared his throat as he tried his best to give a reassuring smile. "It's quite alright. I understand."

She beamed at him. "What a kind gentleman our C.C.'s found."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mama, but he's neither kind nor a gentleman, and most of all, he's not my beau."

They turned at the sound of the witch's voice, and the grandmother reproachfully frowned.

"If he's not your beau, then why did you bring him here? Don't you remember the prophecy, C.C.?"

"Of course I do. But he came of his own will. He doesn't count."

"Why not? He seems like a nice, strong young man."

"It's not him. Trust me when I say that it's definitely not him."

Slightly irritated by the way they were speaking as if he were too stupid to understand them, he forced himself back into the conversation by demanding to know why he had been mauled by a group of waist-high elves.

"You didn't tell him?"

"I figured that a nice, strong young man like him wouldn't need to know," she replied sarcastically.

"Tell me what?"

"You probably aren't aware of this, my dear, since you're… Well, since you're a human, but every species has a certain distinctive scent to them, which fae can usually smell. It's how we identify one another." Mama patted him as if he were a quarter of his age. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just the way things are. There's no helping humans, who were born with the dullest noses."

"So I smell like stewed cabbage?"

"A little bit." She sniffed. "Ah, but I can detect a hint of mint. Mint? Do you happen to have any relatives who are fairies? Or was it mermaids? I can't rightly remember, it's been such a long time since I've met any fairies. Do you remember, Lloyd?"

"Remember what?"

"What fairies smell like?"

"Not really. I've never met a fairy. They all vanished long before I was born. But that's besides the point right now. I can't tell you exactly, C.C., but it looks as if it's going to take about an hour or two to finish making your shoes." The cobbler gestured to the silver shears that were busily cutting out a strip of lavender fabric. "I told them to finish as soon as possible, but you know how temperamental my tools can be."

"Then that means you'll be staying for dinner!" Cécile smiled. "Oh, it'll be so wonderful to sit down and catch up. Don't you agree, Mama?"

Just as she was about to answer that yes, it would be immensely wonderful, a little girl who had been hiding behind Mama's skirt wandered away and pulled back the tent flap, revealing a crowd of elves who immediately started cheering at the sight of C.C. Rose petals rained down as they tugged her towards them and swallowed her. Left with no choice but to eat dinner with the elves – and their curious children – Lelouch stood awkwardly until the silent girl who had been hiding within the folds of Mama's faded skirt reached for his hand. She led him outside and together, they joined the stragglers of the crowd, which was making a bee-line for the center of the camp and to the feast that awaited them there. Resigning himself to his stewed-cabbage-scented fate, Lelouch sighed and followed the trail of rose petals and the excited trill of a violin.

. . .

The silent girl – whose name he found to be Anya – sat to his left, which he was thankful for. Unlike the rest of her peers, she didn't peek at him and giggle, or point at him and whisper, or poke him like some of the braver ones did. To his right sat Mama, acting as a barrier between him and (grudgingly) his only source of comfort and familiarity in the entire encampment of a little under 100 elves. Not that it would have been much better if he was sitting directly next to her. As the feast's guest of honor, she was either greeting other elves who had come to say hello, or politely turning down any invitations to join the dance around the fire. That is, until a particular elf approached her.

Lelouch watched as the silver-haired, blue-eyed man bent down and whispered something into her ear that made the witch smile before rising from her seat. He was so engrossed in watching them, surprised and slightly bothered by the way she had accepted him but had rejected all others, that he didn't notice that someone was keeping an eye on him until he heard, "She saved his life."

"Sorry?"

"C.C. She saved the life of our leader's son, or the one who just asked her to dance. Which is why we're all indebted to her and part of the reason why he's in love with her."

"He's in love with her?" He was surprised. Exactly what about the witch had made him fall in love with her?"

"It's a tragedy, really," she sighed. "What poor darlings they are."

"Why do you say that? They seem happy enough to be with each other."

Was that… Was that jealousy in his voice? Impossible. He barely knew the woman, and what he knew, he didn't like. How could he possibly be jealous?

"It's not really my place to say." Lelouch caught glint in her eyes and realized that he had fallen right into the trap of a gossiper. "But even if he loves her, Rai can't do anything with his love but let it run its course before moving on. You see, elves – and other fae – are strictly forbidden from becoming…Romantically involved with witches. Reason being is that if someone wanted to kill them – usually a human – witches could easily be manipulated to hunt them down for them."

He studied her as the witch danced around the fire, her eyes glimmering and a bright smile lighting up her face as the elves cheered and clapped.

"…Why is everyone so afraid of witches?" The words slipped out of his mouth before he had thought them through, but since he had already asked the question, he decided to push on. Turning to the elderly woman besides him, he asked, "Why? Why is it that everyone tries to put distance between them and witches? Haven't you ever thought about how it could make them feel?"

"We don't do it because we want to."

"If you really wanted to, you could include her. Really include her, not just let her visit from time to time. And not just you, everyone else too. If they really wanted to, they could include witches and stop isolating them. They're not the only ones who are bound by the Code."

"Yes, but they're the only ones who can't use their power for themselves. Elves, we can use magic to grow our gardens and sew our shirts and cobble some of the world's finest shoes. Fairies, they can control the elements. Trolls, they can change their appearances to deceive. But what can witches do with their magic? Become a slave to those that manage to ensnare them. And it's not as if you're any better. You plan on using her magic and then throwing her away, don't you? You have no interest or need for her beyond using her magic to your advantage. You're no better."

Her expression softened when she saw the anger and frustration in his eyes.

"All of us genuinely like her, my darling. But no matter how much we like her, and no matter how easy-going and kind she is, it's not going to change the fact that C.C. is a witch and that witches are dangerous. They're too risky to be with. That's just the way things are. Like the way flowers bloom come spring and the sun rises every morning and sets every evening, witches are dangerous. Nothing is going to change that. But why are you so upset? It doesn't concern you."

"No, it doesn't."

"Then why care?"

"Because…" He struggled to find an answer that satisfied him. "Because… Because it's the right thing to do."

"Because it's the right thing to do or because you're in the same situation as her? Don't be mistaken, my boy. Though witches and half-bloods are both a rarity and are shunned by society, that is where the similarities end. In my opinion, it would be best for you to separate ways with C.C. as soon as possible. For your own safety. C.C. was once forced to kill, and she's never quite recovered. I don't want to see her suffering from the same mistake."

He said nothing more on the subject. He suddenly felt as if he had lost the ability to speak. Instead, he watched as the silver-haired, blue-eyed elf danced with the witch, as he wallowed in the realization that it was the first time he had ever seen her smile. Not smirk, not sneer, but actual smiling. It made him feel strange, to think that there could be someone who was in love with her, someone who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But of course there probably was – though he hated to admit it, she was pretty, as well as clever and witty. It just…confused him. He had thought that he had known her as well as he possibly could have, given the time he had spent with her and his own ability to read others, but now, with her smiles and laughter and bright eyes…

Lelouch couldn't help feeling embarrassed by his hasty assumption. But not just embarrassed – he was also intrigued Now if he could just forget her smile for a few moments, he might be able to untangle the mess of questions in his head…

. . .

The moon was low when they finally came out of the birch forest. The witch walked in front of him, humming to herself as she lightly stepped in her smooth, velvety slippers. Lelouch followed a little ways behind, studying her as Mama's words ran through his head, looping over and over like a broken cassette.

She had said that witches were dangerous – that C.C. was dangerous. C.C., with her lazy ways, with the scars marking her fragile body, her soft green hair and pretty smile, was dangerous. He knew that she was stubborn and could be selfish at times. Hell, she could be so irritating, intentionally grating on his nerves. But as far as he knew, she wasn't dangerous. As far as he knew, she was just…Pitiful. Like he was. Forced to be alone because no one wanted to include them – her a threatening witch, him a half-blood that didn't belong anywhere. But at least he was better off than her. At least he could live his life among the humans, so long as he was careful to hide his true identity. But her? Impossible. Though the days of the witch trials had been long ago, witch-hunters still roamed the countryside, as did their hounds and the suspicion of the people. And at least he could control his own fate. At least he could have his wishes granted.

"…C.C."

"What is it, boy?"

"You grant others' wishes."

"Yes."

Her walking slowed and she had stopped humming.

"And you've never once had your own wish granted."

"…No, I haven't."

"Do you have one? A wish, I mean."

"Why? Do you intend on granting it for me if I say yes?"

She turned to face him, nothing but a silhouette outlined by the moon and a weary voice.

"Why would you do that? Do you pity me?"

When he remained silent, she stepped towards him as she said, "It's time that we form a contract, Lelouch."

"A contract?"

"An accord that allows me freedom and reprieve from the Code. As long as the contract stands, I won't have to worry about every little favor. In return, I will use the Power of the Kings to fulfill your heart's desire."

"And if you break the contract? If you run away?"

"In the case that I somehow manage to…"

"If you somehow manage to…?"

"…I'll die."

He looked into her golden eyes. She had asked him earlier if he pitied her. He hadn't answered because he didn't know. He didn't know if what he felt for her was pity. He knew that what he felt for her now was different than what he had felt for her earlier that day, but he couldn't quite place his finger on the name of his feelings for her now. All he knew was that it wasn't pity. No, there wasn't an ounce of pity for her inside of him because pitying her would have to mean that he was in a better, more fortunate position than her, and he wasn't. Not really, anyway. So he accepted her contract. Not because he pitied her, but because he realized and could understand her position, what her life was like. Because he understood, he accepted her hand and her offer, promising to be by her side at least for the duration of their quest together.

A/N: I'm sorry, it's been like three months since I've written anything.