I don't own Fable 3 or any of its characters, Lionhead Studios does. Based on the 2010 XBOX Game.

Princess/Major Swift

Rated M for explicit adult content.

Princess Laura has to act at once to save the Major from execution, but in so doing she radically alters both of their lives.

Note – Sigh...I could not come up with a name for the Princess that I liked, so I just went with 'Laura.' I wanted something more Celtic or Irish, but came up blank. Also, please forgive my rambling and I hope that there aren't too many mistakes in this "Swift Rambling." :) I am recovering from surgery on both of my eyes so I don't entirely trust my proof-reading. Anyway, I hope this story isn't too dreadful! I am working on the next chapter of "Come Closer" and hope this filler in the meantime is, at least, passable! I decided to try another "Theme." Last time I chose "Women who have difficulty in achieving orgasms" and this time I chose...well, you'll see! It's a bit melodramatic, but I hope it's also a little bit fun. Well, for the right people in the right circumstances, that is. :)

Also, sorry about the title! Titles are the bane of my existence, it seems!

A Swift Decision

The former Major, now Captain Jack Swift, stood before Albion's King clothed in prison whites. His wrists were cuffed before him and his ankles chained. He was hungry, thirsty, filthy, bruised, and bloody. That he had been through hell these past weeks was obvious to the small audience in the Throne Room. The two guards that flanked him held his upper arms brutally tightly as if he were a threat even weak and shackled as he was.

The Princess did not fail to notice that he was also as stolid, determined, courageous and unafraid as ever. His features betrayed no fear of the King or his wrath. His demeanour was as confident as though he was standing before his own men rather than his King, who now held his fate in his hands. As filthy, beaten, and starved as he was, Swift, even in his prison whites, was still every inch the cultured gentleman and formidable military commander. His visage gave nothing away. It was impossible to discern what he was thinking or feeling, for at the moment he was a blank slate of a man.

The Princess had never experienced such overwhelming and sickening terror in her life. None of the enemies she had ever fought as the newest Hero of Albion instilled in her such fear. But the man standing before the King; his fate meant more to her than anything ever had. He mattered more to her than anyone or anything ever had. Although no-one but herself knew that, she could not help but wonder how her pallor, violent trembling, and even her racing heart and rapid shallow breathing did not betray her. Her pulse pounded so furiously in horror and dread that it thundered sickeningly and relentlessly in her ears. Her stomach was a twisted knot of solid icy fear, and her muscles clenched and unclenched so erratically that she swayed on her feet.

Cold sweat covered her body and her hair was damp at her temples and the back of her neck. She was so bitterly chilled inside and out that she vaguely wondered if she were a living woman or merely an upright corpse. Her eyes unfocused and her hearing distorted, she struggled to discern her brother's words as he began to speak.

"I have made my decision," King Logan coolly announced from his throne. His sunken dark eyes gleamed with anger and his gaunt visage showed his disdain for his former military officer. "You are a traitor to the Crown and thus to Albion. The crime of High Treason has only one penalty; death. You shall be executed immediately."

"Logan, please! There is something I must tell you before you carry out your decision!"

Logan's sister, Princess Laura, as quickly as she could, lurched forward and clumsily knelt before her brother and bowed her head. She teetered on her weak and wobbling legs and almost fell forward in a faint, but managed to catch herself on her hands at the last moment and regain the proper supplicating posture.

"May I speak to you privately?" Her heart continued its relentless and fierce pounding in her chest and her entire body trembled and twitched. What if he refused her? Worse yet, would she lose her only chance to help the Major by ignominiously swooning on the spot? She was so nauseous and ill that she knew that she would not be able to rise to her feet even if the King commanded it.

King Logan was clearly taken aback, but he nodded and waved back the guards who had stepped forward to lead the Major to the Courtyard.

"Come with me to my Chambers and we shall speak." He stood, and to Laura's surprise, bent down and gripped both of her arms and easily helped her to her feet as inconspicuously as possible. He maintained a gentle but firm grip on her, obviously realising how weak she was.

Logan turned to the guards, his secretary, and his childhood mentor, Sir Walter Beck. "You are all to remain where you are. I shall return shortly."

With his sister nervously clinging to his arm, and he concealing how much he was supporting her weakened legs and unsteady gait, the King and the Princess slowly strode from the Throne Room.

Walter and Swift exchanged baffled and concerned glances.

"What is it you need so urgently to tell me?" Logan closed the door to his private Chambers and turned to face his obviously terrified sister. His steely gaze softened the moment they were alone.

"By the gods, you are ill!" he burst out, taking in her entire condition. "I knew you were, but not so dreadfully! Would you like to sit? May I fetch you some wine or water? Do you need the physician?" Logan's expression was now not only concerned but fearful.

Laura swallowed nervously and shook her head. Her breath came in short pants, but she was able to remain standing. She was determined to speak to Logan in as dignified a manner as possible, despite being unable to summon the courage to meet his gaze. She knew she likely had only moments to either save Swift or be forced to watch him die.

"I will beg you on my knees if I must, Logan, but please spare Major Swift!" Her voice quavered. After all, it was because of her that Jack Swift had been sentenced to die. If she had not begun to form a rebellion against Logan and persuaded Swift to join her, none of this would have happened.

"And why should I do that?" he asked. His tone was not angry, but carefully neutral, even bordering on gentle. "And look at me, Laura. You are the only person I can honestly say who I do not want to fear me."

Laura slowly raised her green eyes to his. She sucked in a deep but uneven breath to steel her courage; for what she was going to say could possibly spare the Major's life.

"I love him, Logan," she admitted softly. "I love him with all my heart, though nobody, least of all he, knows it. Please, spare him! I'll do anything you wish, though I do not know what I can offer you, but please, please don't execute him!"

Logan sudden indrawn breath was a loud hiss. "You love him? You love that filthy traitor?"

Laura flinched as Logan raised his hand, but he did not strike her as she expected; instead, he gently ran her long red hair through his gloved fingers and sighed. She shivered at his gentleness. Why wasn't he angry, furious even? After all, he had one proven traitor in the Throne Room and another standing before him now.

"I do, Logan." Tears filled her eyes but she resolutely kept them in check. "Will you spare him? For my sake? I know I do not deserve your mercy, or anything at all from you, but..."

"Punishment must be apportioned," Logan replied, moving his hand to caress her pale face. He smoothed away the damp red hairs that were clinging to her lips and returned his hand to her parchment-white cheek. "However, I think I have a solution. If you agree to it I will grant your request."

"Anything!" Blast and bother! Even that one word was weak and filled with fear. Her chin wobbled and her lips quivered as though she were a small child frightened of her parents' wrath. Was she unable to maintain even a single shred of dignity?

Logan's eyes clouded with what looked to Laura like pain.

"You have hurt me beyond measure, Laura," he began, his voice lower and more gentle then she had heard it in years. "But I realise that it was not your intention to do so, for I know that the Blind Seeress Theresa told you that you must fulfil the Prophecy of being Albion's new Hero. I think we may work together, though, if that is agreeable to you."

He continued to stroke her cheek tenderly. "Do you fear me, Laura? Even now, as I am loving you and touching you as gently and comfortingly as I can?"

She swallowed, fighting the thick knot of fear in her throat, and nodded. "Of course I do, Logan. You are the King! Your word is law. I never asked to be a Hero, and I never wanted to..." She stopped, her throat constricting even more and choking off her words.

"You never wanted to move against me?" His voice was still soft, still gentle.

"No, I never did, but I had to. I still feel as if I must, Logan." Laura's voice was thin and frightened, but at least she was able to speak once more. "I do not know if Prophecies can compel a person, but I feel as if my every move is manipulated and I am but a puppet on a string. My own thoughts and wishes do not matter! I do not know if I have choices any more, Logan, especially since the Seeress told me that Albion is in great peril."

Laura now raised her own hand, shaking and unsteady as it was, and tentatively cupped his cheek in turn. Logan turned his face and kissed her palm with adoring tenderness. His warm lips lingered and there was no mistaking the myriad emotions behind the kiss. A part of her wished that she could return his feelings, but she could not; she had no choice in that, either. She loved Major Swift. Her devotion and loyalty to Logan was not shaken by the Path she was, by so many, expected to take, but perhaps she could help Logan and save the Major with one simple solution.

"I... I believe I know what must be done, Logan," she whispered, the solution now seeming so obvious. "I am the real traitor here, not Major Swift. He is merely another pawn in Theresa's game. Order my execution instead."

A wave of pure primal panic cascaded over her body at her own suggestion, weakening her further yet, but Laura managed to remain on her feet; barely. She loved Jack Swift with every fibre of her being, and she could not bear to know that he could die because of her. He did not love her, nor was he aware of her feelings for him, but she had to try to save him nonetheless, even if it meant defying the Prophecy and dying in his stead. That was not what a Hero should do, if her mother had been correct in her stories of her own past, but Laura was not her mother.

In fact, Laura and Logan's mother had chosen to Sacrifice inside the Tattered Spire so many years ago and lost her first family, her beloved dog, the chance of ever seeing her sister, Rose, again, and even her friends. For she was alone after restoring all who had died during the construction of the Spire. Her friends had all deserted her and went travelling, and she had remained behind to clean the blood of her own family from the floors and walls of her home. How she had managed to move on and eventually remarry Laura would never know, for Queen Sparrow never spoke of that period of her life.

If Sparrow were still alive, she would almost certainly see her daughter as weak. She would be horrified that her own child, a Hero, would be willing, even desperate, to place Love above Duty. Still, Laura had accepted that fatal flaw in her own character. In truth, she had no choice. She was simply unable to allow the man she loved to die if there was any way at all to save him, even if she could never be with him.

"You cannot be serious!" Logan cradled her face between his palms and stared intently into her tear-misted eyes. "Laura, I love you and I know you love me. I am well aware that none of this is of your choosing. But you cannot mean what you just said!"

"I can and I do, Logan." She allowed herself one final moment of selfish weakness and leaned against Logan's chest. His arms closed around her in a fiercely desperate embrace. "I am a selfish creature, and Jack will never understand how I can be willing to sacrifice a nation for love, but there it is! I am selfish, and I am willing to die in his place. In fact, for your best interests as well, I must die! If you do not kill me, then you risk me seizing the Crown from you some day. I will not lie to you, Logan. If you allow me to live, I may well become your enemy in the end, as I suppose I am even now. Executing me can only strengthen your position as the strong King you must be for Albion."

He kissed the top of her head. "And solidify the opinion that I am a heartless tyrant, not to mention lose my beloved sister? No, Laura, the solution I am formulating is better, not to mention more... palatable; hopefully for us both."

"The Princess has provided me with information I had lacked," Logan said, addressing the audience in the Throne Room once more. "I have amended my decision."

He nodded to the leader of his elite guard. "Free the prisoner."

The guard moved to comply and Logan continued his declaration.

"Jack Swift, your rank is officially restored, and you are hereby reassigned to Mourningwood Fort, unless, of course, you would prefer to live with your soon-to-be wife at Hunter's Lodge, a wedding gift to my sister, if you will have her."

A collective gasp of surprise rose from everyone in the room, including the Princess, whose eyes widened in absolute shock.

Logan rose from the throne, but his posture betrayed an air of reluctance and resignation. "If you marry my sister, you will have your life and career restored, if that is your desire. If, however, you do not wish to marry her, you may still return to Mourningwood Fort as Major of the Brigade, and I shall have her executed in your stead."

"Your Majesty," Swift sputtered, "you would execute Lau... the Princess? Why?"

"Because she is a traitor and a spy. She has admitted as much to me and freely offered her life in exchange for yours."

Logan turned to look at Laura, who stood silently beside the throne, her gaze fixed nervously on her clasped hands. She was naturally fair-skinned, but now her flesh was almost as white as her day gown. Her long red and curling hair stood out in even sharper contrast to her colouring, rendering her the appearance of a frightened and fragile doll rather than a living and breathing woman.

"I offered her a choice, and I now offer one to you. I have decided that Laura shall be as neutralised a threat to me as possible. I am not completely heartless, contrary to popular belief. She is my sister, and as such, I will give her every chance to remain alive, and preferably, happy. But I can only do that along with sparing your miserable hide, Swift, if I tie her to you. After all, you have already proven that I cannot trust you. I now know that I cannot trust her, either. I shall therefore bind you two together and know where you are at all times, or I shall execute her and return you to your duties, but under my watchful eye."

The Major, thoroughly flabbergasted, looked to the Princess. "Laura? You... you plead on my behalf?"

Laura did not respond; she did not dare. She had not anticipated Logan pressuring the unfortunate man to marry her! Her admission that she was in love with Swift apparently had moved Logan, in his own way, to do his best to secure not only her survival, but her happiness. However, his decision did not take the Major's feelings into account. Jack Swift did not love her, but as a gentleman and a dear friend to her, he was not likely willing to allow her to die. Logan was counting on that. Laura was, as guilt coupled with fear and uncertainty infused her by the moment, dreading it.

"She did indeed, Swift," Logan said, "but I realise that if you decide to marry her, it is likely that you care for her, at least a little, and that will reduce the threat you both pose to me. So choose, Major Swift. Will you return to Mourningwood Fort a married man, or an unmarried one?"

Laura found her voice at last and raised her eyes to gaze at Swift. "Major, I am prepared to pay for my crimes. I recruited you to my cause and thus put you in this position in the first place. I know full well that you are unmarried by choice. Being forced to take a wife you do not want would be dreadful beyond belief. Please, do not bind yourself to me out of a misguided sense of duty. You will gain the knowledge that you spared my life, but will forever forfeit your chance to marry for love, unless I precede you in death. You will be... saddled with me. Surely you do not wish that. I certainly do not wish that for you!"

Logan whirled to his sister and glared at her. "Enough! Allow the Major to make his own decision!"

"But you are not truly allowing him to make a genuine choice, Logan! You are forcing a man of duty, principles, and conscience, to make a choice that is not a true choice at all! This is not of his free will!"

"Not everyone has the luxury of 'free will,' my dear," Logan said, his gaze fierce and his jaw set in anger. He turned back to the now unshackled Jack Swift.

"Major, choose now!"