Disclaimer: Fable belongs to Lionhead, I own nothing.
Warnings: Could be read as Hero/Logan, dark!Hero, Traitor's Keep spoilers and I named the Hero Ian because only using titles sounds terrible.
Ian finds his brother already waiting in his room; Logan is standing in front of the mirror and staring at his reflection. He hasn't noticed Ian yet and traces the scar on his lips, his expression unreadable.
It is infuriating.
Ian coughs and his brother whirls around; sees him and flashes Ian a too fast, too wide smile and Ian tenses and straightens his posture and starts talking about the invasion as if nothing is wrong.
–
One day he enters his brother's room to find him sitting on the bed, enveloped in utter darkness. He closes the door behind him and Logan's breath is fast and shallow. Ian can almost smell his fear, feel it permeating every part of the room.
He wants to scream. He wants to drag Logan out of there. He wants to ask just what is wrong with him.
"Walter is here", he says. "He wants to talk about the troops."
He leaves for the war room without another word.
–
Another day he looks at Logan and sees the dark rings under still sunken eyes, on too pale skin. Sees the look in those eyes.
And he wishes he could see – no, reach – into Logan's mind, pluck out all the thoughts, all the emotions, everything in there that has to do with the Crawler, everything he doesn't want to be there, reshape Logan into the man he had been.
No, not that. Reshape him into something better.
Something beautiful.
Ian knows he's a monster then.
–
When Walter turns around and his eyes are black and his voice is the Crawlers, Ian knows he has lost. He can't protect everyone. He can't fight Walter.
They circle each other and Ian dodges when WalterCrawler attacks and the words coming from it are a mockery of Walter's love for him.
Then he sees Logan, fighting a Sentinel, across the bridge. He's winning and two of his men – Logan must have saved them from it – stare in awe.
But Ian remembers elegant steps and jumps so very much like dancing, he remembers a blade twirling through the air with such certainty it might have been part of Logan, remembers a smile when the opponent's sword is flung out of their hand.
It isn't the same. It is sharp and beautiful, but it isn't the same.
CrawlerWalter begs him to end this, WalterCrawler beckons him to give in and Ian lets go.
Walter's blood splatters on his face and runs down over his lips. It tastes like sand.
–
Ian doesn't listen to their parting words; he can see they are content and knows he has nothing to fear from them, no revolution against himself.
He is glad when they all leave; he is glad when Logan leaves, whose skin is darker now, the rings under his eyes lighter. He is glad when he watches Logan ride away, sword glinting in the sun, to become whoever he wants to become, healing away from Albion just as much as Albion will heal without him.
He hopes he never comes back, so Ian can never try and change him.
–
He slays the assassin and feels no remorse.
He hears of Turner and longs to kill the man.
Professor Faraday is before him, on his knees, and Ian knows Faraday has done nothing wrong, that he did not know, but inside him there is a tidal wave of fury – because Logan had been their King and this man had refused to listen to him. He doesn't listen to Milton's protest when he shoots.
Mary is begging him to kill her. He raises the gun and Milton wants him to stop, but he knows she's insane. So he shoots, because he knows himself, too, and he knows that it would be no kindness to let her live.
Ian looks down, but he barely listens to Milton's words as the man dies. He knows he should not be King. He knows he is a monster. He knows Milton would have been no better.
He returns to the castle, sits on the throne and waits for the next one to come and fight him.
–
Ian cradles the child and wonders if it's a Hero. He thinks so, somehow. The mother is talking to him, but he ignores her; perhaps he should get rid of her soon. He has his heir, after all.
Or perhaps he should give his son a sibling, too. It would only be fair.
He turns and smiles and kisses her.