Right, this is an idea I came up with in my ICT lesson when I had literally nothing to do. I realise that what is happening may offend or upset people but I find the grimness had to be lifted by some stunt so coarse only Reaver could do that. So please forgive me for that.
Please R&R I'll be eternally greatful for feed back.
Also please over look and spelling/ grammar errors that have been over looked. Thank you and enjoy.

***Disclaimer**** I do not own Fable 2 nor lionehead studios.

Chapter one- Rest In Peace Sparrow

Dear Reaver,
I realise you may have no idea who I am, but I know you. My mother spoke quite highly of you and your 'habits' as she put it. Do you recall a Hero named Sparrow? The hero who had a bounding black dog? She was my mother. It has taken us a while to get in contact with you as she longed to speak with you once again. I am sad to write on behalf of her as she is on her sick bed. I know that by the time this letter reaches you she will no longer be with us.
If you please, could you hasten to Fairfax Castle in Bowerstone? I know it would mean a lot for her if you could attend and it would be a real honour to finally meet the man she spoke so highly about. Of course upon your arrival you may stay as long as you desire with most of the castle to your disposal, as I am told what a social butterfly you can be.
Yours Faithfully,
Catherine

With a heavy heart and a tight chest Catherine lowered her quill, combing her dark waves from her pale face blue eyes flashing miserably, as she heard her mothers wheezing breaths from the other room, each gasp felt like her heart was being wrenched out. She wished the letter she wrote wouldn't have been so grim. She remembered stories her mother told her of the magnificent pirate, Reaver. Being blessed with god-like looks; along side an amazing aim with a pistol. How she had always longed to meet him, but never in her seven-teen years of life expected to be calling him to attend her mothers own funeral.

A tear began to trickle down her cheek as she folded the letter up. Slipping it into an addressed envelope; and rose to her feet. Making her slow way out of her room, she caught sight of her adoptive father- Alex leaning against the door frame of her parent's bed room his face hidden in his hand.
"Dad, Has Hammer and Garth arrived to see her yet?" Catherine asked sadly, moving over to hug her father, seeing transparent glistening tears ripple down his stubbly cheeks as his head bobbed.
"Yes sweetheart. Hammer is in with her now, Garth is in the gardens. Is that- Is that a letter for him?" His voice croaked in distress as he gestured to the letter.

With a fretful not she began to walk away. Walking down the spiral, staircase. Heading to the court yard, paying one of the travelling merchant; asking him to get the message to someone who could send it to Blood stone. She couldn't remember much of the conversation; everything seemed a bit fuzzy to her of late. With a blurry vision she watched her messenger run off, eager to do as was asked. People seemed more eager to help since they heard of Sparrow's ailment. Wasted efforts, but she felt grateful of it.

How long she stood there? She didn't know, but by the time she 'returned' to the real world her arms and cheeks were icy cold; the sky a midnight blue once more. The moon was gone tonight almost as if it too was mourning for her mother, who death all was waiting for. Like a perverse version of Christmas, except the excitement was replaced with remorse and secret hope that her health will take a turn for the better, but in reality that hope would be impossible to be considered.
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The following morning was when she knew her life would change forever. When she heard her father's voice, terror of waking up to what he did, and remorse for what he didn't find.
"Love? Sparrow? Oh good lord! Sparrow wake up!" his voice becoming more frantic and concern, tears flooding into his voice.

Cathy felt as dead as a hollow man. She didn't feel attached to this body, as if she was hovering a few feet above her body as she slowly walked from her bedroom into her parents, seeing her father bowed over her adoptive mother's body, holding her close to him. The cold empty shell of death held in an eternal sleep. Lips pale and parted slightly as if to speak, but words would never pass them again. No sweet breath would quench her lack of breath. Her mother was free from her eternal torment. The burden of all she went through:
Rose's death, Not getting to the boy in the hobbe's cave in time, Not being able to save Hammer's father, all the suffering in the Spire, sacrificing her youth to save a girl she never knew, loosing her first family and her dog to the Spire and then all the friends she knew left her.
She was finally free. Finally at peace from all the suffering she had face. Catherine was happy for her, but hated her mother leaving her behind.

The next couple of days seemed to merge into each other, one minute Sparrow, the hero of Albion was being carried out under a white sheet, the next seeing all her siblings nestled around the usual vibrant sitting room, but with out their mother sat on the arm of Alex's arm chair, joking, making crude comments and telling jaw dropping tales the room seemed so empty. Before she knew it she was making her way into the Bowerstone grave yard, Her hair hidden beneath a gauzy black veil, her elder brother's arm wrapped around her shoulder as their younger sisters stuck close to their father both snivelling miserably. Reaching the top of a hill a roughly dug grave stood bare.

It was so final, so coarse. Her mother was a wonderful woman. She deserved so much more than a hole in the earth, but what more could they do. After all this is what she wanted. If it had been left to Catherin she would have had a whole party walking to the grave yard, gathered around her grave; smothering it with flowers to show respect. The soft din of keening wails piercing the air. That is how her mother should have her final goodbye. Hammer agreed with her, but Alex wanted her to have as she wanted; a nice charming little ceremony in the public graveyard, only family and close friends. Very sentimental. Especially as she was now buried next to her old dead family. A husband and two sons. Killed by Lucien's blood covered hands.

Catherine looked down at the ground as the ceremony started and her mother's coffin was placed over the grave suspended by only two ropes, to slowly and tenderly lower it into it's final resting place. It looks so...so miserable as a few droplets of water spattered onto the coffin, as if the gods in the world above were weeping for their loss, feeling their pain. A crisp leaf rolled over the smooth mahogany wooden lid; scuttling over her booted feet. Like a ghostly touch of her long gone mother.

Her reminiscing was interrupted by a loud piercing gun shot broke the silence that over fell the grave yard. Looking up alarmed the family turned to see a tall figure sauntering over the horizon. "So sorry I'm late!" a loud confident voice called out, "Don't worry your pretty little heads, I have dealt with that nuisance once and for all." It called again as a tall broad shoulders vision on dark red began to saunter into view. A pistol weighing heavily in his right hand as he slipped it snugly into the holster on his hip. "Not to worry, he should have finished writhing by the time we're done here." Causing a squeal of shock escaped Cathy's youngest sister as she coward away and hid behind Alex's lean frame.

"Now then, No need to be so frightened my dear. I rarely shoot girls." This stranger announced, a gloved hand moving up to check his perfectly combed hair with a charming smile. "So may I ask who the charming girl who wrote me this letter is..." He muttered, pulling out a neatly folded letter and opened it to refer to what had been written. "Catherine." he answered looking around curiously.

She looked closer at the rude, yet charming gun's man. Could this really be he? Could this be Reaver?

She knew this man.

It couldn't be. He was still...so young!

She definately knew this man!

His finely chiselled features held and almost aristocratic air about him, a noble gene that must have been passed through many generations. His manner made her feel below him, and caused her blush to have the honour of being called forth by name. His hazel eyes glistening in a curious fashion, looking from her to each of her sisters.

"I'm Catherine." She finally confessed, her heart pounding frantically as she watched him with an almost coy smile.

Those perfectly shaped eyes scanning over her body in a lust filled way, mentally ravishing her frame. She was tall and gracefully built. A complete contrast to Sparrow who had just reached his shoulder, and broad shouldered to compliment her warrior life. Though this girl, despite claiming to be Sparrow's daughter. There was something uncomfortably familliar about her, but Reaver couldn't quite figure it out. Her eyes held an old soul, he knew that much. The eyes large with youth, and sparkled like a tropical ocean, her nose gently pointed. However her hair fell down in straight tendrils around her shoulders, a fringe framing her face, making her seem more like a young teenager opposed to the young adult she was. That fact alone was a quick tick list that it wasn't who he thought it was.

She'd never choose a style like that.

Pushing the thought away he bowed down before her. "An honour to make your acquaintance." He announced taking her hand in his and kissed her knuckles softly, causing a foreign shade of pink to rise in Catherine's high cheeks, before the preacher interrupted with a stutter cough. Reaver raising his brow as he rose to his full height to glare beneath his eyelid at him.

"C-c-c-c-c-c-c-could we pr-pr-proceed?" The priest stuttered lightly, the hands holding the temple of light holy scripture were trembling madly.

Reaver nodded and wrapped his arm around Catherine's shoulders "You can tell your grandchildren about this. How close you were to me even on such a grim day." he whispered into her ear; his lips grazing the delicate shell in a sensual manner that caused her knees to turn into jelly.

'He's and insufferable wretch! Don't fall for it Cathy." her mind growled; despite the girlish giggle that tore her lips at his touch making her blush far worse than she had before.

The funeral was slow and to be perfectly honest dull. Her mother would had turned on her heels, and left ages ago if her mother was still alive. Though, at long last they were asked to slowly lower the coffin into the shallow grave.

That was when it happened.

A dull thud and a sound of a heavy movement in the casket sounded as the coffin jammed in the very small grave; stuck at a slanted angle a small gasp in alarm sounding from all as the men lowering it struggled to move it either way.

"It's stuck sir." One of them muttered in a gruff voice.

"Stuck?!?" Alex exclaimed in frustration. "Stuck? how can she be stuck?"

"It seems the grave wasn't dug properly." the grave digger muttered in a trembling voice, taking a step back in fright from the angered Alex.

"Then I suggest you fix it." He roared like a wounded animal. Devastated that his wife couldn't even be lain to rest, all due to people incompetence.

"Not to worry!" Reaver's voice drawled walking over to the grave and peering down. "I should be able to fix it." he announce confidently.

"What do you plan to do?" Hammer asked warily. "If you use your gun anywhere near my friends grave I will knock your block off." she hissed threateningly.

Reaver rose his hand and waved it in a dismissing fashion. "Don't fret so." he exclaimed. "I happen to know a simple logical answer that was invented by the common cave man." He explained factually before he jumped into the grave, his boot clad feet making a hollow clunk sound as he landed on the wood. "Good old fashioned bouncing." he explained and literally; like a child bouncing on their bed when their mother's weren't around before to jump up and down heavily on the coffin, causing the wood to creak in protest but was infact slowly sliding down.

The whole group of family and friends let out an autoable gasp of disapproval and distaste at his actions. Catherine's sisters wailing with upset and hiding their eyes, clamping hands over their ears. Her brother and father almost foaming at the mouth but stuck comforting her sisters. Garth looked startled his will lines glowing more brightly for this moment, Hammer pulling out her large stone hammer from her back. However Catherin herself had beaten all of them. The gun from Reaver's holster missing and now pointing at his forehead causing him to still his motions.

"Desist!" she growled aloud, cocking the gun threateningly. "Get off my mother." She hissed her eyes flashing, holding a fire Reaver recognised so long ago.

Reaver gave her a charming smile. "As you wish." he whispered climbing out in a gracefully pulled himself to his feet back on ground level, just as the wooden box fell heavily on the ground below with a dull thud.
"Well. That takes care of that problem." he chuckled with amusement despite everyone else held the same grim expression. It was then that Reaver knew his charms would get him no where with this crowd. Though his mind still pondered. Could it really be her? Could it be his Lizzie?

A/N
I really like how this chapter played out. I hope it came across as well as it did in my head. Please let me know what you think. I shall be working on chapter 2 as we speak. ^.^