Disclaimer:
I do not own Fable or any of the characters that are depicted in the game series, copyright goes to Lionhead Studios. Copyright of the story goes to me though. The following story does not necessarily follow the main story plot lines of the games, but I try to stay somewhat true to the Fable universe and characters' basic personalities.
Author's Note: Having replayed Fable 3 some time ago, made me really want to write a Reaver & Princess story, especially since the game is cruel enough to allow us little to no real interaction with Reaver. The characters of the game are rich in back stories and many possibilities towards their futures. The Fable universe being centered on choices, makes every play-through a rather unique experience from person to person.
Hope you all enjoy it, and please, Follow, Favorite, and Review. Whether you loved it or hated it, I'd love to hear from you.
CHAPTER ONE:
CHOICES
Rayla stared down at her hands—they were bloodstained yet again. The crisp smell of broken pine needles sharply stung her nose and she tried hard not to flare her
nostrils angrily in response. There was a slight breeze that whipped at her blood smeared clothing and it was rapidly getting dark.
Night was settling in, and that didn't always prove to be a good thing in the woods of Silverpines.
She quietly tried to make her way back towards the little village nestled in the midst of the forest. It seemed to be the only haven that there was for a quick rest to recover her strength so that she could teleport back to the Sanctuary.
She was exhausted. She had been fighting numerous groups of balverines in an attempt to help the people of the little hamlet out. Due to the huge and frequent amount of balverines that infested the area, shipments of supplies and traders willing to brave the forest road was becoming more and more slim. The Hero in her had refused to stand idly by.
There was something else which made her stray so far away from comfort and company though—her brother, the former King Logan.
She knew that now that she had been made the queen she would need to pass judgment. She wasn't fond of the idea at all over what awaited her back at the castle. She had hurriedly accepted a letter from the alderman of the little village in an attempt to escape needing to immediately decide on her brother's fate.
He had done terrible things. The people had cowered in fear and hatred while he had reigned, but all of that seemed over now that she had taken the throne. After having witnessed some of the things she had in her adventures and the times she had meddled into the lives of some of the citizens, she could almost understand why her brother had such a cold demeanor about him at times.
The day when he had forced her to choose between the leaders of a riot and Elliot, her childhood sweetheart, she had promised him that she would never forgive him—she had lied.
Her brother had done all of the things he did in an attempt to ready his kingdom for a deadly enemy that was soon to be approaching. He had told her all about the things that had happened when he had travelled to Aurora and of everything that had transpired after his return.
It had started to make sense and she could no longer blame her brother. The people cried out for his blood and this angered her to no end. Yes, Logan had been cruel, but he had had reason—and he was her brother. She would not execute him for just the pleasure of the impoverished people.
Rayla ran a shaky hand through her dark brown hair which by now surely appeared as disheveled as she felt. Her bright blue eyes scanned the dark corners of the forest carefully as she made her way back into the little village to the tiny house she owned there.
She sighed a soft sigh of relief as she entered the village. The alderman, who had been awaiting her return, thanked her deeply for her help. She hardly paid attention to his words before making her way over to her little house.
She needed some sleep, badly. She needed a bath even more and clean clothes. Distaste curled at the corners of her mind as she sunk down onto the meager bed in the tiny house she owned—she knew she would get nothing but the sleep there.
Sighing once more, she closed her eyes to let unconsciousness take her and her worries. Tomorrow she would need to make her judgment, and she had already made up her mind.
"All hail Her Majesty, Rayla, the Queen of Albion!" Walter announced.
The queen walked up the steps to her throne slowly. She wasn't happy about what was about to transpire at all. Holding back a sigh of frustration, she promptly sat down on the throne and cast her weary gaze to her brother as the guards dragged him before her.
The majority of the people gathered in her throne room were of the lower classes—the ones who hated her brother most intimately. This was not going to go well.
"Sister, I have explained my actions to you in detail. You now have the power over life and death. It is your turn to choose," Logan said, a desperate edge to his voice.
"This man, doesn't deserve to live. Not after what he has done to the people, Your Majesty," Page cried out. She was all but completely rapt with pleasure at the idea of being rid of Logan. Rayla hated her a little bit for that immediately.
"He killed Major Swift! I agree with Page," Ben Finn voiced, giving Page an appreciative look. He too, promptly wound up on the queen's list of dislike.
"Your Highness, these people all have points, but he remains your brother and the choice is up to you alone. What will you do?" Walter added.
"My brother shall live," Rayla paused for the cries of rage and disagreement to die down before continuing, "I need you now brother, this kingdom still needs you. We have a threat that looms over our head and none of us can just sit idly by."
"Thank you, sister. You can have the throne and the castle, I'm glad to be rid of them actually," Logan murmured, relief spreading across his face.
Page let loose some snarl of disapproval, her dark eyes trailing over Logan and coming to rest at the queen. "This is a mistake, Your Majesty. It will also be one that you regret. The people are already losing faith in you at this display."
Rayla sighed audibly as she looked over at Page's scowling face. "Leave, my decision is final."
She watched as Walter ordered the people out of the throne room, keeping a particularly close watch on Page as she left the room. She had a feeling that the trouble there was only starting to brew, and that much more would come to pass before she saw the end of it.
She rose and made her way over to the Royal Treasury. Hobson—the aptly named, round, disgusting, little man—had expressed a wish earlier that morning to talk to her about the taxes.
Having reached the Treasure Room and quietly listened to the man ramble on about things for a while, she decided to keep taxes the way her brother had had them. To lower the taxes would put her in a more difficult monetary situation, and to raise them—after already having paid the people no mind and sparing her brother—would possibly bring about a riot in the streets.
Hobson nodded and made a few more comments that fell deafly on her ears, before he pulled out the schedule to check what would be required the next day.
"Your Majesty," he said, shifting from one foot to the other, "tomorrow you will be required to make a trip down into Bowerstone Industrial. There is a dispute that will need to be settled between Page and Mister Reaver."
Hearing Reaver's name drew her attention quickly and her mind was flooded with memories of when she had last seen him. The way he didn't even seem to need to aim to perfectly hit his target, the way he could casually evade a bullet with a flick of his cane or a dodge to the side with his feet. He was unnaturally skillful with a pistol and his skill at evading was more than any normal person could dream of accomplishing. He was different. She didn't know how yet, but she would find out. She decided to spend the rest of the day doing just that.
