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.

The Princess of Albion falls in love with Major Swift during her time at Mourningwood Fort. Can he, or does he, return her feelings?

Note – I'm LOVING Major Swift so much (that and he just won't leave me alone! LOL) that I'll likely write some shorties featuring him and the Princess in varying love scenarios. I know, not great literature, but heck, the Major wants him some nice lovin' and I'm happy to oblige him!

From Rifles To Romance #1

"Now, try and relax, Amberlee," Major Swift told the Princess, "It is imperative that I teach you about breath control and relaxation is a key part of that."

For rifle shooting? Amberlee had never thought such a thing would be so important, but if Jack Swift said it was, then she would believe him. After all, he was one of Albion's finest soldiers, if not the finest, and he was, unquestionably, the finest marksman alive.

But controlling her breathing around him? Amberlee groaned softly. Just being near the man made her breath quicken and her heart race. Hmph...if she was lucky she wouldn't moisten her drawers in the process as well!

It hadn't always been so, even though she had liked the Major when they first met. Until she and Walter had come to Mourningwood Fort she had thought that her childhood sweetheart, Elliot, was the only man she could ever love or desire. She could not have been more mistaken.

The Major proved to not only be a true gentleman and magnificent soldier, but also that he was handsome, learned, cultured, and kind. With her he had also become her friend and closest confidante. It had taken time, for Jack Swift did not seem at first inclined to believe that the Princess and Hero of Albion would take any special interest in him. After all, at forty years of age and white already streaking his hair, he likely believed he was too old for her. Amberlee was two and twenty, experienced beyond her age, and wise and intelligent enough to know her own mind.

And Major Swift was a constant presence in her mind, not to mention her heart and dreams.

"Amberlee?"

"I...ah...yes, Major. Breath control."

"Indeed." He positioned himself behind her and together they peered down from the high walkway down to the scarecrow-like targets below and just outside the Fort. "The timing of your breathing will coincide with your pulling of the trigger."

Amberlee swallowed and nodded, raising the rifle and tucking it between the hollow of her shoulder and her collarbone.

"Now," he continued, placing his hands on her arms, "relax as much as you can or you'll find that you will tire quickly. Even the lightest of rifles can become incredibly difficult to wield if you exhaust your muscles. Yes, like that, Amberlee. Now, breath and don't move the rifle. Watch how the barrel moves on its own in time with your breathing. When you inhale, you'll be aiming higher or above the target, and as you exhale, you'll aim lower or below it. What you want to do is squeeze the trigger gradually and when your lungs are nearly empty, the trigger will break when you are at the target's centre."

Amberlee took a deep breath and aimed at the head of the first of the six straw men.

"You've tensed too much again," Jack Swift said, squeezing her upper arms gently, coaxing her to relax once more. "If you hold the rifle with the least strain to your arms, shoulders, neck and back, you'll shoot more effectively and for longer periods of time with minimal fatigue."

"But how then shall I use my muscles to hold the rifle?" she asked, hoping the Major did not see her flushed face at his close proximity and physical contact.

"You don't, my dear Amberlee," he replied. "You distribute its weight over your bones, not your muscles. Muscles are inherently unstable and relying on them for supporting the rifle will be a mistake. Your frame," he continued, grasping her shoulders and then running a hand down her neck and spine, "will support the 'Swift Irregular' perfectly."

Amberlee started and the Major quickly stepped back. "Pray excuse me," he stammered, "I have breeched propriety by touching you so!"

"Nonsense!" Amberlee hastened to reassure him, "this is necessary! Besides, I don't mind you touching me, Jack." She did not realise she had addressed him by his first name. As close of friends as they had become, she had seldom addressed him with such familiarity. "Touch me any way you like," she continued. "I need to learn and besides, we are friends, are we not?"

Swift chuckled and relaxed, stepping to her once again. "Fair enough, Princess!" He reached from behind her and assured himself that the butt of the rifle was in the proper position. Once satisfied, he continued. "You will sway a little because you are standing instead of kneeling, but there is nothing for it. You must simply control your natural sway and fire when you are at your steadiest."

Amberlee nodded and so that Jack Swift could hear her, she began to breathe audibly and aim at the first target.

"Time your shot with your breathing, Amberlee, but only if your stance is as stable as possible." He passed one hand over her left arm. "Good, your left arm should be braced against your ribs. Excellent! Now, see? Your bones are supporting the rifle, not your muscles. Your feet and legs are balancing the weight of your body and as you exhale your spine will stiffen, increasing your stability."

Amberlee relaxed her neck and allowed her cheek to fall onto the stock.

"Excellent," Swift said softly. "Make sure you use the same cheek-to-stock position every time you fire and your aim will be consistent. This will also increase the efficiency of your vision and not exhaust your eyes."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she sighed. "I just hope that I don't prove to be the big disappointment I've been all week!"

"You'll do splendidly," Swift said with confidence. "But since you fear otherwise, what say I give you an incentive?"

Amberlee turned and locked her green eyes onto his dark brown ones. "An incentive?"

He smiled and his entire visage brightened. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "Of course! If you strike the first three targets in the head consecutively, I'll reward you with anything you like."

Amberlee laughed. "That's quite a promise, Major! You've no idea what I would request! Hadn't you best find out before possibly endangering your person, your dignity, or your..." She paused to gather her nerve, and then concluded. "Even your virtue?"

Swift's eyes widened in surprise at her forwardness, but then he rose to meet her challenge. "My virtue?" he replied with his gentlemanly accent exaggerated for flirtatious effect. "Well, since you've yet to prove your ability to meet my terms, I have little to fear, haven't I?"

"You never know," she replied, a surge of confidence bubbling up inside her. She was flirting outrageously with him and he did not seem to be offended or put off in the least! In fact, he appeared to be more than willing to reciprocate her advances.

"So be it, Princess Amberlee, I'll take my chances and even risk my virtue!" He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. "But mind you, you'll also be risking your own."

"You are a gentleman," she retorted saucily. "I doubt that."

"Well, but if such does occur, I would have to make certain that your reputation remains unsullied then, shan't I?"

"Ah, shall I not tax you so?" she teased. "Perhaps I should simply demand from you a kiss!"

"A kiss?" Major Swift sucked in his breath so rapidly that he choked for a moment. "Well, I'd say that a kiss is not out of line. But shall it be a kiss the way I want it? After all, you are the Princess and I a mere soldier. If you are toying with me, then I believe it is only fair that the type of kiss, as well as its duration, be decided by me."

Did he really believe she was merely toying with him? She frowned. Perhaps he did. He was older than her, after all, and as he had just said, he was a soldier while she was the Princess of Albion. Yet she was the one who initiated testing the waters of flirtation between them.

Amberlee took a deep breath and fixed her complete attention on the first target. She slowly began squeezing the trigger and paid close attention to how her gaze on the target shifted slightly. She aimed just above its head and as her lungs emptied her body steadied and the faceless head came into clear focus. She finished the shot and the bullet lodged in the head of the straw man where his right eye would have been.

"Nicely done, Princess! Capital shooting!" Swift enthused. "That's your finest shot all week!"

"Yes, but I have two more to go!"

Breathing in and out several times to relax herself once more, Amberlee concentrated on everything this man had taught her. She had to make the next two shots; she simply had to!

Very well; the second target. It was just a straw man, nothing more! Her eyes were fixed on its featureless face, her perspiring and slightly trembling finger was squeezing the trigger. Her chest rose and fell gently. On her third exhalation she fired.

The forehead of the straw man was pierced.

"I did it!" she squealed like a school girl. "I did it, Major!" Her heart was racing and her pulse pounded in her ears, but these were good things. She felt as if she were on a gambler's lucky streak.

"Yes," he said slowly, voice filled with wonder, "you did. Now please focus, relax, and be certain that you do not miss the third."

Amberlee faced him and saw what she could swear was anticipation in his eyes. Could he feel for her, even a little, of what she did for him?

"My dear, take your time," he said softly. "There is no hurry. Take your time and be confident when you shoot. You can do this."

He placed his hands on her hips and she gasped. He did not remove them, however. He smiled and squeezed them gently but firmly. "Remain steady, Amberlee; remain steady." He removed his hands and stepped back.

"Yes, you can do this," she said to give herself confidence "You can!"

And she did. The third target's head was not as tightly packed as the first two and it exploded into a mass of straw, string, and dirt.

Amberlee lowered the rifle and stared in wonder. She had done it! Three nearly perfect shots in a row!

She slowly turned to Jack Swift and felt herself smile so widely that she knew she must look like the proverbial child who had succeeded in raiding the cookie jar.

"I do believe I've earned my kiss, Major!" she said as calmly as she could. "However, if you reward all your soldiers thus, I may just decide to pass!"

Swift chuckled. "You needn't fear any such thing! Besides, this old soldier hasn't enjoyed such a delight for nigh unto... Never mind. Suffice it to say that it has been quite some time, and never before with such a beautiful and incredible woman."

Was he truly sincere, or was he merely flattering her? Oh, he liked her and cared for her, there was no doubt of that, but did he have any idea whatever that he was inspiring in her other feelings?

Her pulse was racing and her every nerve was sensitised, and damnation, her drawers were moistening, but she wanted her kiss! Whether he wanted to make it chaste, or even one to her hand, she wanted it; very badly.

"Such flattery is unnecessary, Major."

Swift took the rifle from her and placed it in the nearby rack. When he turned to face her again, his eyes looked troubled and his face registered confusion. "Amberlee, you wound me. Are you implying that I am insincere?"

"Oh, no! I would never think that." She suddenly felt very nervous. Even if Jack Swift found her attractive, it did not mean he thought of her as...

"Then I believe that it is now time for me to state the conditions of your reward," he said. Then his gaze fixed on hers and for the first time since their acquaintance he faltered and seemed ill at ease. "If you are indeed desirous of such a reward from an old soldier like myself, that is."

"Jack!" she suddenly found herself blurting out, "do not speak so! My parents had more years between them than we do! Haven't we become the best of friends? Do we not confide in each other? Are we, or cannot we, possibly become more?" It was her turn to not only falter, but to sway in sudden fear. She had said too much. Her flirting had crossed the farthest lines of propriety. What in the Hells was the matter with her?

Jack Swift was a soldier and had been nearly all his life, she reminded herself. For years he had been stationed at Mourningwood Fort with rare leaves of absence. And Amberlee; she was the Hero and the Princess. She was, fortunately, considered quite pretty, and was well-educated and as cultured as 'Gentleman Jack.' She constantly had contact with people, but Jack had only his men and his duty, not to mention the nightly grind of wave after wave of the undead Hollowmen attacks.

Of course he would be susceptible to the flirtations of a young woman. As highly as he valued their friendship and camaraderie, she had shamelessly and carelessly teased him. She had, just now, treated him as a child would a toy. She had used him for her own amusement and satisfaction. She had taken heinous advantage of a lonely man in a dreary and dangerous place because of her own selfish heart.

"Amberlee?" Jack Swift's voice was soft and low and he placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off and turned away.

"Thank you, Major," she said, trying to keep her voice steady but failing abysmally, "but I've behaved quite badly and treated you dreadfully. Please, forgive me. My flirtations were not only ill-timed and unasked for, but also inexcusable."

"You needn't..."

"Please, speak no more!" she begged him, blinking back tears. "I'll retire to my tent now." Amberlee resisted his efforts to turn her to face him. "Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow." She swallowed down a lump of fear and dread and she slipped from his grasp. She was certain she had lost this man, or if she had not, she deserved to. "Or perhaps not. It may be time for me to leave this place and move on to Bowerstone."