A/N: First Fable 3 fic, just needed to get out some stuff. Don't worry that Reaver isn't in it yet, he'll be there soon enough!
Disclaimer: I do not own Fable or any of the characters.
They had done it.
Seraphina nearly couldn't believe it. She and her sister stood, defeated yet victorious, at the memorial of their beloved guardian, white stone gleaming in the dawn's light. The gunshots of the soldiers sounded off in unison, and Seraphina almost didn't notice when time froze, the telltale sign of the blind seeress, Theresa. She pretended to remain passive, simply listening to the woman's words as she commended the two on their tremendous victory, saving the kingdom while still being benevolent rulers. But of course, being called the Seraph queen, she already knew people admired her, worshipped her, even. It mattered not to her. While her sister became riled, and spat at the older Hero, Seraphina merely looked to the sun, feeling her heart wrench once more at the additional loss, the loss she would have to deliver to her people.
The world faded back into colour, and Logan looked to the two girls, sighing when he saw Seraphina's haggard look, one he'd seen in the mirror far too many times. Once the funeral ended, she turned immediately and headed to the front of the castle, careful not to allow her iron mask to slip. She raised her hand, and the crowd fell silent, a few murmurs arising at the sight of the older queen appearing alone.
"Albion," she began, her voice trembling, "has lost a great… great hero today. Though he was not of my blood, of my sister's blood, Sir Walter Beck was the closest thing to a Hero one could achieve. He was noble, kind.. He was a father to us in all ways but one." She took a breath then, casting her gaze to the stone railing and allowing her eyes to close momentarily. "And he is not the only father who shall be missed. My husband and children also rest within Avo's light on this day, and every day to follow. Albion is, once again, without an heir to the throne, because I, as a mother, have failed. I, as a Queen, have failed." The words were bitter on her tongue, and it was all she could do to attempt keeping her tears out of public view. "On this day, every year, Albion's flag shall be lowered, in memory of the sacrifice of Albion's royal family."
With that, she turned, striding back into the castle as Logan smoothed the crowd over, the guards rushing forward to hold back the mob of sympathizers. She turned the corner quickly, taking deep breaths before she reached her room, collapsing once she reached her bed and allowing her sobs to rack her body. She longed for the warm arms of her husband, for the small hands of her children to wipe away her tears, but she knew such desires were foolish. Even Reaver was nowhere to be found, and she detested him for his absence, balling her fists in the sheets and bringing them to her face once more, barely noticing her brother's presence until he knelt beside her, holding her in his arms the way he had when they were children. She clung to his thin form, hot tears streaming down her cheeks and soaking into the royal purple of his clothing.
"They're gone," she breathed, shaking as another sob threatened to break loose. "Forever. They're never coming back, Lo…"
"I know," he sighed. "I know. They're with Avo now, sister… They're happy, really..."
But Seraphina would never believe that. Once she'd been calmed to silence, she simply lay alone in her bed, and for the first time in years, she wished that someone else had been the victim of such a loss. Her most trusted advisor, father figure, gone, her children and husband, her first real love, gone from the world to a place she doubted she would reach. She placed a lazy hand over her heart, closing her eyes and allowing the pain radiating in her chest to spread, licking like a flame towards her fingers and toes. Her eyelids were heavy, and dark circles began to show under her eyes, but she couldn't sleep, for fear of the nightmares that haunted her nights, not knowing if they would return now that the darkness had left. She brought her hands to her face, sitting up and taking one of the books from her shelves before sitting down and attempting to lose herself in it. After a while, she sighed, allowing her book to clatter to the floor and slumping into the chair.
Bittersweet numbness overtook her until dawn.