The Seduction of the Queen
Writer's notes: There are a lot of Queen Sparrow seduction fics, this is my take on it. Hopefully to be followed up by a Fable 3 continuation of the fic divulging who exactly the father of Logan and The Prince/The Princess' exactly is.
Every town and city was abuzz with gossip. It had been three years since the young hero known as Sparrow had sacrificed her chances of ever seeing her family again and crowned monarch of Albion. Precisely at noon the day marking the anniversary of her coronation all the town cries rang their bells claiming that the queen was now accepting suitors to marry and continue the royal line with. Every eligible bachelor from Bowerstone to Samarkand lined up outside of the castle each requesting an audience with the Queen arms heavy with gifts and lips full of poetry and promises for days. Each receiving a patient interview with the Queen that lasted ten minutes with her scribes each taking furious notes about each suitor, his appearance, age, if he was previously married, what he said, gifts he brought. She smiled and nodded cordially as each man made his case and told them they would receive a letter in the near future if they had succeeded in wooing her. Mysteriously raising her left or right hands after each suitor began to leave making her scribes sort them in different stacks. Word quickly spread that left was most definitely "no" after some witnessed particularly lewd men (those who were dirty and drunkenly offering her half a bottle of wine saying they would be more than happy to "knock 'er up").
Baxter had only met the woman a handful of times but nervously he hoped she remembered him. He sheepishly had to admit he was rather smitten with her before he even knew she was royalty. She had stopped by his pie shop a few times and every time she was always polite and her soft smile gave him butterflies. His mother had dressed him in his itchiest and finest suit that day and his tie felt like a noose it was so very tight around his neck, telling him to "Bring some status and grandchildren to the family before your poor mother dies of old age ."
He was fifth or so in line now, peeking up ahead first was a very dapper aristocrat in a posh wig holding a pocket watch looking impatiently at it and Baxter worried that the Epiphanic Blueberry Pie and violets he held in his hands would grow cold and wilt before seeing her. He knew she loved his blueberry pies because she had told him so when she visited and sometimes she would send a courier to fetch her one. There was a buzz of disgruntled shouts and groans coming up from behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see a magnificent mahogany horse drawn carriage with a golden cursive "R" gracing the front of it pull around the line and ride to the front past him parking at the gate as the carriage door swung open.
"You there!" Cried a refined voice from inside the carriage to the man in front as the entire line fell silent to hear what was going on. "What is your name?"
"Dalton?" The posh man said curiously in reply, watch still in hand.
"Thank you kindly for saving me a spot in line, Sir Dalton!" Said the mysterious man with a chuckle from inside the carriage as there was a brief click and a shot was fired at the man's head splattering his blood on the stone and the man behind him. Baxter and all the surrounding men couldn't help but to shout in fear and surprise as a man steeped from the carriage and brushing the wrinkles from his black suit holstering his gun. "Oh my sweet Light," murmured the man behind Baxter. "That's Reaver." He whispered in his ear.
"Reaver?" Baxter whispered back in confusion. "I thought… I thought he was gone."
"Apparently not." The man grumbled nearly crushing his box of chocolates in his hands with anxiety.
As the previous man inside the castle made his way out, the guards at the front of the castle apparently had no quarrel with Reaver killing a man and cutting in line called for the next visitor to enter.
"Word of advice gentlemen…!" Reaver called out addressing the entire line adjusting his tie and smirking like a bastard. "From this point on… All your efforts are fruitless. "He snapped his fingers as his two footmen hopped off the carriage and unpacked boxes upon boxes trailing behind Reaver as he swaggered inside.
Some people, particularly the men in front of him left, either giving up after seeing another Hero in competition or to change out of their bloody clothing, Baxter wasn't sure but he was up next now. A lump formed in his throat and he briefly considered leaving as well.