Reaver and the Queen had never really done more than tolerate each other, each finding the other distasteful, but useful. The Queen had a strong aversion to pistols, having been shot point blank by one in her childhood and almost dying. Her sister had died. Also, she never could forgive Reaver for shooting Barnum, one of the few people left who had always been kind to her, and still remembered that there had once been a young girl called Rose. Reaver on the other hand, wasn't overly fond of magic, or muscle-bound women who could smoosh him with her arms alone, never mind her hammer, and he had absolutely no use for sentiment or generosity. He did, however have a use for a Monarch acquaintance, despite the fact that she also sadly had all the above-mentioned qualities.

Reaver was only vaguely aware of the Royal children as they grew up, seeing them in glimpses far and few between in his visits to the Palace. He had seen both Prince and Princess as babies, small uninteresting wrinkled things, and only a handful of times over a dozen or so years, each time receiving the same impression of dark hair, dark eyes, and rich clothes, only a little bit bigger than the last time. The Princess and her older brother had grown up with tales of their mother's Heroic past, the feats she achieved, the villains she defeated, and the Heroes she met. These tales were told to them by their mother, Jasper the butler, were whispered by the palace staff and the constant flock of nobles present in the castle. And occasionally the royal children would be regaled by Hammer or Garth themselves, during their visits to the Hero Queen. Reaver was always kept away from the siblings, whether for their sake or his, only the Queen knew.

One spring day, leaving the palace after his latest Reaver Industries proposal, he was stepping lightly down the garden steps in a rather good mood at having just secured a rather large amount of gold for himself when a youth came barrelling out from a thicket of trees in Reaver's direction. Sidestepping neatly, Reaver watched, amused as the youth tumbled down the shallow steps, landing in an undignified mess at the bottom.

"Brother!"

Reaver turned at the call, and stepped back to watch as another child came running out of the thicket. The youth rolled over, stood up and started to brush himself of, muttering to himself at the sight of grass stains on his sleeves. He looked about 16, thin and dark with a strong nose and straight low eyebrows. The girl hurried over, lifting her skirt and stepping daintily down the steps. She was about 10, with shining brown hair carefully done up, petals and leaves clinging to the braids.

"Brother, are you ok?"

Logan, for that these were the royal siblings was obvious both in their looks and bearing, looked up and seemed to notice Reaver for the first time. He shifted between the man and his sister, glaring up at him suspiciously.

"Who are you, and why are you in our garden."

Reaver pouted exaggeratedly. "Oh, I'm hurt. After all we've been through, has your dear Mother never mentioned me?"

The young princess tilted her head to the side and looked at him long and unblinking. Reaver was a little taken aback by this. He was used to being stared at, after all, as handsome and famous as he was, but not usually by little girls with flower petals in their hair, and not usually so...thoroughly.

Then the Princess broke into a sunny smile, and dipped an impeccable curtsy, saying brightly "Hello, Mr Reaver, Sir."

Grinning, Reaver doffed his hat and swept into an elaborate bow. "Hello, young Princess." Straightening, he put his hat back on and gave Logan a wry smirk, drawling "recognition at last."

"Mr Reaver, can I see the Dragonstomper? Please?"

Reaver eyes shot back to the Princess, eyebrows raised high in surprise.

"Why ever would I show my prized Dragonstomper to a child? You'd likely shoot yourself in the foot, and then I'd be in all sorts of trouble with your dear Mother, something I'd really rather avoid, if you don't mind. Now, I have businesses to run and gold to amass, so toodle-oo children." He waved his fingers in their general direction, and resumed his way down the steps and towards Bowerstone Industrial, slowing only as he passed Logan to say "Oh, and I wouldn't make a habit of falling down stairs, your Royal Majesty, it is rather undignified. Ta-ta now." A final glance back showed the Princess looking not crushed as he'd predicted but, surprisingly, determined.