Lord Death (a.k.a Danny Fenton and the unplanned sabbatical to magical Britain)

Prologue

He landed on the cold ground of the forest floor with an undignified oomph. Contrary to what most books and tv shows portray, earth is not soft and will make whatever you landed on hurt like hell. Danny slowly picked himself up from the pile of dead leaves with a groan and dusted off his cotton shirt and jeans. He squinted at the light filtering through the foliage above, and let his eyes roam around his drop site.

He sighed as he quickly realised that he had no clue where he was.

This was not what he had in mind when Sam suggested he'd take a sabbatical.

It was quite funny actually, thinking about it. Sam, and to a lesser extent his entire family, had bullied him into taking a sabbatical after he'd graduated. She'd said something along the lines of: "Don't worry. Relax for once. You worked your butt off the entire year, and you deserve some peace and rest." Promptly shoved a backpack filled with essentials in his hands and pushed him into the Ghost Zone, while locking the doors behind him.

Which forced him to pound angrily at the door, or find Vlad's portal and go the long way back. He'd chosen to go to Vlad's mostly because he hadn't seen the man in a while and wanted to have a chat with him. (He'd grown on the man since the Dark Dan incident.)

Alas, halfway through a natural portal had sprung up in front of him, made of psychotic swirls of purple and black, sucked him in and deposited him on the forest floor.

So, there he was. In a forest in the middle of fucking nowhere with nothing but a bag and his clothes to his name.

Yeah, thanks a lot, Sam.

He sighed again as he looked up at the sun, or the sunset, as it was dangerously close to nightfall. Danny ran a hand through his hair and located the highest tree with the thickest branch. If Katniss could do it, so could he. After a quick look around, he flew up the tree and found an excellent spot to rest his eyes, and his still sore-from-falling body.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Danny woke with a start the next morning as an arrow whizzed past his head, and embedded itself into the tree next to his right ear. He had to levitate a bit, to keep himself from falling, and glared at the person on the ground.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, but when he looked again, the person holding the bow still had the body of a horse with the torso of a man.

"My humble apology for the rude awakening, my Lord, but I could not find a better way to gain your attention." The centaur said as he slung the bow over his head and onto his shoulder while holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

Danny remained silent for a while, hoping he wasn't under the influence of hallucinogens and stared questioningly at the archer.

The centaur seemed to understand that further explanation would be needed if Danny were to come down, so he spoke again.

"I understand your hesitation, my Lord. My name is Firenze, and I welcome you to our humble forest. We centaurs have been preparing for your arrival since the stars told us you were coming. We mean you no harm, and if you come down, Bane will explain everything." He added the last part with a wry smile as if he wasn't happy with Bane explaining at all.

Danny, having seen his fair share of weirdness and knowing a Greek deity, did not hesitate to believe that the being before him was a centaur. What threw him for a loop was the whole "my Lord" thing. Sure, he was a Lord in many ways. (Technically speaking he was High King of all Ghost after defeating Pariah Dark, but he chose to let the Ghost Council do the actual ruling, and he was only summoned for peace treaties and ribbon cutting.) The problem, however, was how Firenze knew.

With a grace that he didn't always possess, Danny swung his legs over the edge of his branch and casually jumped down. Slowing down his fall he levitated the last meter and softly landed on the damp earth.

Firenze, not at all fazed by the display of flight, turned around and began walking his way towards the herd with Danny in tow behind him.

A/N

Hiya! So, yeah. I felt bad about the sour note I left you guys on. To celebrate my somewhat delayed return. I now present to you, Lord Death! And with article 11 & 13 pending, I HEREBY DECLARE THAT I AM NOT MAKING MONEY WITH THIS. I DO THIS FOR FUN. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO J.K.ROWLING AND BUTCH HARTMAN. NOW GET OFF MY LAWN!