The Familiar of Zero was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and published by Media Factory.

Code Geass was directed by Gorō Taniguchi and created by Sunrise.

I own neither, will not profit by these works, and will abide by the rules set before me, copyright held by them. I own only the creative bending of these worlds into a new project in an exercise of the imagination.

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Zero Over Zero

Stage Six

The Stolen Staff

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"You should know your enemy. It is not people, but Britannia itself. It is a war you must wage, but not on the innocent. Take up your sword. Fight for justice!"

-Zero

So help me, Shirley, you'll die a thousand deaths for this. If I didn't have to play teacher for my mission I'd-

-Villetta Nu, Physical Education Teacher at Ashford Academy

"I used to be a school teacher, so I was feeling a little nostalgic…"

-Kaname Ohgi, Deputy Commander of the Black Knights

"You're lying, aren't you? Lelouch… There's only one way to redeem yourself for those lies. You should make those lies into the truth. You told the lie that you were a knight of justice. So try and become a true knight of justice. Keep the lie going… to the very end."

-Kururugi Suzaku, Knight of the Round of the Royal Army of Britannia

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For Tabitha, there was little in the world that intrigued her, at least not in recent memory.

At the helm of their cart was Miss Longueville, guiding the volunteer group on the hunt for a thief. To her left was her best friend, a person who was honest in her own right, if a bit selfish. The same could be said of the petite girl to her right, honest and selfish, but had no wish to make friends who wouldn't support her. Much the opposite, in fact, making enemies of all who spoke unwell of her and thusly making the ice mage the only thing standing in the way between peace and certain chaos.

In all honesty, though, she cared little for the Academy's lost object, but her friend had raised a wand to challenge her rival and Tabitha would be the last to leave Kirche without help against a rogue mage. No, what gave this ride any actual interest was the unlikely pair opposite to her.

In front of Tabitha was Guiche to her left and Lelouch to her right, conversing over a leg and wheel of bronze.

"I see the issue here. You didn't reduce the density like I had told you to. If it's too heavy, the wheels will start to dig into the soft dirt and grass."

"But Lelouch, making changes like that on such short notice is easier said than done."

"In that case, the wheel's torque and power need to be revised instead. You'll need more practice."

Of all the people to take under his wing, her last guess would have been the youngest of the Gramonts, for although he hailed from the most renowned of military families in Tristain, he had inherited many of the less desirable traits in their line. Guiche was at worst pompous, cowardly, and dishonest. Between him and herself there was no animosity, but neither so much as a single spoken word.

She would never have spared him so much as a glance — certainly not in the way the other girls do — but at the moment every sentence spoken between the two boys was digested in a way not unlike how she would to the pieces of a book.

Well, most of them anyway.

"Ah, what luck! All this lecture and risk, and for what? I had to miss a date for this."

Lelouch, absent of his usual flamboyance, asked, "Which girl was it?"

Guiche tightened his lips. "It's Monmon's."

Kirche, as was usual, poked fun at the first opportunity. "It can't be helped. You faced Fouquet. It's only natural that you come along as well and raise the fourth wand to the cause."

Tabitha was about to tune out the chatter when Louise brought up another point.

"Why would a mage like Fouquet resort to thievery anyway? Shouldn't she be a member of the nobility?"

Naive, but she wouldn't correct her.

"I assume she's a fallen noble." Lelouch straightened himself and continued, "I overheard that her skill with magic was nothing to laugh about, so she must have had an ample education at some point."

Guiche put a hand on his chin. "That doesn't completely make sense to me. An earth mage of her caliber would have plenty of options outside of stealing for a living."

"Then there must be another motive. Something personal."

"And what makes you say that?"

Heads turned to Miss Longueville.

And Lelouch crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees, a habit of his. "Why, it could be a number of things. It's not hard to imagine a need for fortune and fame, or perhaps something darker, like a personal vendetta or rebel cause of some sort."

His master crossed her arms. "It's still wrong."

"Yes, but what is wrong and what is wanted are often the same, Lousie." He picked up the bronze construct. "By the way, Guiche, make a hollow pair of these, will you?"

Tabitha tossed those words in her head for a moment and agreed silently. She personally knew the meaning and, with the way he said it, she almost assumed he was the same, begging the question of who he truly was. Tabitha always had her reservations about what he did before being summoned by Louise, but she understood why he might hide his past. To keep others in the dark often made things less complicated, retained a sense of normalcy so to speak.

That, however, didn't change the fact that it was a dishonest practice too.

Miss Longueville picked up on his words as well. "You sound rather familiar with these issues, Lelouch. Do you mind telling us why?"

"Indeed, darling, do tell."

"I suppose it can't be helped. Louise knows. She can explain."

"Eh? Why me?"

"And stop the carriage for a moment, please. Guiche, with me."

"Don't just ignore me!"

Confused, the Gramont followed the familiar off to the side and Tabitha's eyes met the other mage's. She noticed everyone's stares a moment later and made a little squeak.

Louise relented. "Oh, fine, I'll tell you. Apparently, he comes from a world with no magic — though he doesn't have any proof of it — and that he was a fallen noble as well." She inhaled and blurted, "But it wasn't his fault though! His father used him as a political tool and he got lost with his sister in a war."

"And I didn't want anything to do with them since," said the man in question, boarding the carriage. "Onward, Miss Longueville, and thank you all for waiting. A wonderful summary Louise. Good job."

Louise fidgeted until Kirche opened her mouth. "Not that I'm one to care much for Guiche, but where is he?"

"There."

The other two girls looked to where Tabitha already was. Behind them was the earth mage, stumbling about as if he were walking on ice.

"Lelouch! Lelouch, hold the carriage, at this rate I'm going to fall!"

"Don't mind him." Leaning out of the carriage, he shouted back, "Keep your feet straight, knees bent, and lean forward. You want to get stronger, don't you? Focus!"

At this Guiche straightened out. Wobbly, but better than she expected, something she found herself wondering more often these past few days.

"If I had to say, those odd contraptions on his legs are proof enough."

Kirche leaned in towards Lelouch. "Well if our school's secretary says so, then I'll believe it." Her friend was about to get up when Louise hopped into the spot left open by Guiche. She looked at her friend and saw her lower lip curl into a frown.

"As diligent as ever I see, Louise." Lelouch then faced front. "Would you like to say anything, Tabitha?"

She looked up for the second time on their ride to see Lelouch staring at her. She read little from his face, a genuine face or a perfect mask she couldn't tell.

"Oh, you know Tabitha rarely says anything. I haven't ever heard her say more than a few words at a time."

"Is that so? Then I apologize for putting you on the spot there." Overly polite, though being overt seemed to be his fashion. "That reminds me, Miss Longueville." He turned to the person in question. "I don't mean to be rude, but you're a fallen noble as well, aren't you?"

Louise took immediate offense for her. "Don't mean to be rude? How could that not possibly be rude!?"

"It's fine, I don't take much offense to it. It's not as if it's a secret, but rather nobody bothered to ask me about it."

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Miss Longueville, or rather, Fouquet thought otherwise.

What is that familiar on about? Does he know something? It was too late to wonder, however, as they soon approached their destination.

The group disembarked and hid in between the trees and shrubbery near a lone cabin situated in a large clearing.

Settling into their hiding spot, the familiar quickly pointed out, "A trap, and an obvious one at that." He moved from his view and huddled in with the rest of them. "So, Fouquet is known to work alone, is that correct?"

"That's right," said the thief, "I'll search the perimeter while you kids see to the house itself."

"Alright then. Tabitha, Kirche, and I will go out while Louise, Guiche, and his valkyries will help secure the perimeter."

She couldn't fathom why they let the commoner dictate directions, but she wouldn't complain. From what she knew through the reports of Old Osmond, the kid had made friends with each of them on various occasions. First, his failure of a master, then a playboy that wasn't that much better, later a foreign fire mage, and last her talented and icy friend, a group of people as different as could be that wouldn't usually ever think of coming together.

They didn't even have much of a cause to fight for, but perhaps that's why they were stuck with each other for so long, aimless fledglings with only the guidance of school to fill their bellies with pride.

Moving on a safe distance away from the group, she watched as the children approached the house with caution. She awaited their find and, once the Left Hand of God found the Staff of Destruction, she'd finally know how the damned thing worked.

It didn't take them much time. Once she saw the familiar retrieve the staff — already out of its case too and quite daring for a commoner if she had to say — Fouquet lifted her hood over her head and triggered the construction of her signature golem. Masses of dirt swirled about as if it were of liquid and rose higher and higher above the trees nearby. "Go! Attack them, my golem!"

On her command, the small mountain advanced forward and she waited and watched for an opportunity. The children panicked, but they managed to stay coordinated. Even the Gramont was able to muster up some organization in the small amount of time he had. What she was truly waiting for, however, was the staff and the one holding it took the first chance he had.

"Everyone, get out of the way! Stay to the sides!" If that was his loudest, then it wasn't that impressive. Her Golem was to aggravate the boy and his master and so reached out to him with its lumbering arms.

Then it happened.

An explosion like never before shook the earth and the air with a fireball that swallowed her golem whole. It would've most certainly taken a square class fire mage to recreate such an effect. She covered her face but smiled. She knew how to use the Staff now and all she had to do was obtain it.

After their cheers and awe died down, Louise was the first to point out, "Where's Miss Longueville?"

And the familiar responded. "Stay together and search the perimeter! I'll take the front and search for her there. Be wary of the rear. I'll play my flute as the signal that I've found something."

Fouquet went out to meet the boy, foolish enough to move on his own, though she'd also have plenty of confidence with such a weapon in her hands.

She made sure that he was able to catch her in his view, faking a limp from behind a tree, wrapping one arm around her waist, clutching it in false pain.

"L-Lelouch. Help… me…"

"Miss Longueville!" The boy ran over, planting his sword in the ground and setting her target to the side, right by her arms.

With a sweep of her legs, she had him on the ground, scooping up the green tube. Not wasting a moment, she armed herself and pressed the switch.

And nothing happened.

"Wha-" And before she could even get a word out, the wind was knocked out of her. Her vision was flashing, her chest heaving, but she could still make out his figure approaching her, holding his instrument like a makeshift club.

He raised it.

"Hmph."

And brought it down, darkness welcoming Matilda with open arms.

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"I've been waiting for someone like you, Miss Longueville."

"You…!" Matilda shot up at the sound of that voice, rewarded by lancing pains throughout her body, falling back into the sheets. Seeing the stained glass windows, she knew that this was the infirmary.

"You shouldn't try to move so much. I wouldn't want you to feel too uncomfortable."

"Says the one who put me in here." She checked herself once over and felt her legs and right arm bound, broken. "What do you want from me?"

"Straight to the point, are we? Your injuries were but a necessary precaution and I assure you that you'll make a full recovery in a short time." The damn familiar carried over a tray with a set of tea and her eyeglasses to the side. "Milk? Honey? I'm not certain how you like your tea." He poured a cup. "Personally, I prefer bitter."

"I don't want your tea."

He stared for a moment. "Bitter it is then." And filled the next cup. He placed his flute near his chair. "Would you like me to play a song for you?"

"Enough with the mockery! What. Do. You. Want?" In spite of her venom, she knew what position she was in. If she wasn't dead, then she was somehow useful to the boy.

He took a sip. "Allow me to reiterate. I've been waiting for someone like you, someone that can help me expand the scope of my operations."

"And what makes you think I'll work for you, a noble's guard dog?"

"You're mistaken, Fouquet, and that's not what I want." More tea. "Or do you prefer Matilda?"

"I don't care." Her blood still boiled from being put into this state, but time helped her clear her mind. "If you're done playing around, can we get to the point already?"

Another sip. "I want you to work with me, Matilda Longueville." He set down his cup with a click. "Whoever sent you obviously doesn't know what they're doing. Your talents are wasted."

Longueville looked at him as if he was mad. "Working for someone? I told you to stop playing with me. How would you even know such a thing?"

"Simple, really." His face remained calm, but she could imagine a smug smile on this bastard's face. She almost wished he had one so she could wipe it off of him. With the floor. If she could.

"A renowned thief in multiple countries stakes out Tristain's grandest academy all for only a little-known weapon of significant power. Either you've got a massive ego that thirsts to pull off outrageous stunts for no good reason or someone sent you. Both perhaps."

She wanted to punch him, even if it might cost her other arm.

"I imagine that someone had ordered you to steal the Staff of Destruction or that you stole it with a potential client in mind. There are few who want such an obscure thing and the high amount of risk and investment isn't worth any amount of coin, not to me anyway." He moved to refill his cup. "Unless you really are that foolish."

Matilda had enough of his questions, now wary of her opponent and his methods. "Do you think making me angry will get you what you want?"

"To a degree, it already has."

With a swipe of her arm, the remaining tea found its way to the floor, seeping into the wooden boards and filling the room with the fragrant odor of the drink.

"Tsk tsk, that's no good Miss Longueville." Moving to pick up the fallen teaware, he added, "We wouldn't want to have another accident, do we?"

She didn't miss the threat. "You're bluffing."

"Would you like to leave things to chance then?"

She was being cornered, but she still didn't want to accept it. Life took precedence over pride, however, and she didn't have the luxury of doubt. She couldn't let it end here, not by a longshot. She'd have to be more careful next time if there was one.

With a blunted edge, she asked again, "What is it that you want from me?"

He set the fallen objects where he had first picked them up. "I want you to work with me. I want to know why you fight. For your own needs or for the needs of others, for revenge or for justice?"

She scoffed. "And what do you know of justice?"

"Oh, I know plenty. But rather than telling you, I'd rather show you, as an olive branch of sorts." He made a new cup where he stood and walked over. "I'd like to invite you to the city once your injuries have healed, a day or two from now, thank your medical magic. The cover will be a vacation for the valiant but unlucky Miss Longueville, all expenses covered by Miss Valièrre's assets of course. In actuality, we've been entrusted with a secret mission to find corruption in the city. The princess of this country certainly is an odd one, but to be honest, I prefer it that way."

Fouquet hesitated for a moment but chose to pursue more doubt. "Corruption of what? Merchants lining their pockets? Rats who must steal for a living?"

"No, Matilda," he answered, almost interrupting her, and sat by the bed once more, setting down a new cup in front of her. "The corruption of power, of those not worthy of the nobility handed to them with a silver spoon, whether by birth or coin."

She looked down at her cup and saw its color was a milky light brown, steam no longer rising from the surface.

"Why go through all the trouble with this? With me? Why tell me anything at all? Once I recover, I could simply kill you in your sleep and run, so what makes you think any of this will work?"

He contemplated her question, taking a deep breath in deep thought. "No mask is perfect, Miss Longueville. It goes without saying that you're alive because of me and, though I've taken similar risks before, I would never take them back. I can't help but contemplate that you'd prefer to have some more direction in your life, much as they did at the time. I promise that you have nothing to lose and everything to gain by at least following me in the coming days. I'd also imagine that you wouldn't want to be a thief for the rest of your days, so do please think of the long term."

A faint yelling could be heard outside. "Hey, whatcha all doin'? Here to visit the sleeping beauty? Too bad, her prince already woke her up!"

It was that damn sword.

"That damn sword. I told him to stall them, not say anything stupid." Lelouch rose from his chair and went to the door. "Consider it, Matilda. I'll be visiting in the meantime."

With that, he made for the door. For a moment, she stared at her cup. In the next, she gulped the whole thing down in a rather unladylike fashion and plopped into the bed once more. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a gaggle of concerned people, all clamoring to see if she was okay. If she were someone else she might've appreciated it too, but there were too many things going through her head and it would take quite some time for it to settle. One thought, however, sprung up to the forefront of her mind.

This is going to take some getting used to.

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Hello, Verrill again, and thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it greatly, truly.

Matilda, Matilda, another underutilized character, at least in the anime in my opinion.

For me, nothing makes a person more interesting than the motives they have, what drives them to do what they do.

Lelouch would be far less sympathetic without Nunnally, Kallen without her dreams and desires, Jeremiah without his EVERLASTING LOYALTY, and so on.

The villains though, oh the antagonists! When the motivations are compelling or interesting enough, then a villain has my attention. Anyone can do the goodies or the evulz, but what's more interesting is why they do it.

With regards to this, Matilda is someone I want to take liberties with to have her more involved in the story. Who she is and why she fights could have been so much more in the show — more intrigue, more compelling pizazz — but I suppose it was never to be with the nature of the anime and whatnot, the main focus being Saito and Louise.

And so, without further ado, please support the official releases — new and old — review my work as you see fit, be welcome to ask any questions you wish, and thank you all again for your time.

Otherwise, take care~