A/N: Wow, First fanfiction ever. I'm kind of nervous XD. Well, Hi I suppose. My name is Lorelai, but you can call me Nerdallicious. I've played both Fable 2 and 3 multiple times and it got me thinking about just how far the Queen would go to get money and of course I love Reaver, so that was how this story was born haha. I have a weird mind I know =D. I've taken a few artistic liberties, such as Reaver's eye colour and mainly the exclusion of the sanctuary because I love Jasper too much and the Sanctuary was just plain annoying. And I hate –shudders- Hobson –shudders-. Anyways Read, Review, I want to know if people like it before continuing. 3.
"All Hail Her Royal Majesty, Queen Raven of Albion," Walter's deep voice boomed from his spot beside the throne. Hushed conversation transformed into obnoxious cheers in an instant, the gathered crowd tripping over themselves to get brownie points with the young monarch. Raven steeled herself for whatever crushing decision she would make today, her shoulders feeling a little heavier as she stepped into the throne room. Just one court session today, you'll live. Hopefully.
Teeth ground together as Raven put on her best smile, the one that dazzled even the most cold-minded of men, as she took her seat, Walter coming to stand beside her. Raven nodded slightly to Paige who returned it with a small wry grin, noticing her monarch's best attempt to ignore the man standing across from her. Green eyes smouldered in their owner's chiselled face as they roved up and down the Queen's curvaceous body, that sly smirk that perpetually creased his rosebud lips stretching when the faintest blush stained Raven's cheeks a light pink. Raven scowled on the inside, cursing her inability to do something about the head of Reaver Industries near constant presence in her throne room. For Avo's sake she had fought countless mercenaries and screaming Hobbes, stared darkness itself in the eyes and she couldn't even ignore one egotistical man! Couldn't she at least smack him over the head or something? Wipe that smug grin off his face? No, of course not. She was the picture perfect monarch to them, an angel with dark hair, calm and wise and always smiling. Not the short-tempered, stubborn girl who she really was. Oh how she longed to shoot bottles with Elliot again, tucked away safely in some hidden corner of the garden as Logan was left to deal with all this. Childhood seemed so very far away.
Wait, Walter is talking, shut up Raven!
"Paige will represent Bowerstone Industrial and Reaver will dispute her cause," The very large man explained, motioning for the rebel leader to commence. Paige bowed stiffly, the movement incredibly out of place coming from the street-hardened young woman, before speaking.
"Your Majesty, the Industrial district has flourished under your rule and for that we will be always grateful but there is still one issue that must be resolved. Children continue to be enslaved in the "factories" run by our good friend here. They are severely underpaid, barely given food and water and forced to work unreasonable hours for children so young. It has gone too far, your majesty, and so I ask that they be disbanded permanently," Paige explained, that fiery passion that had carried her all these years flaring in her voice. She had been pacing during her speech but stopped when Reaver smoothly took a step forward, arms resting casually on the brass walking stick he carried. Raven unconsciously sank further into the throne; cold, ornate metal digging into her back through the blue fabric of her dress.
"Now, now, let's not be unreasonable. Do you really want these children, as you insist on calling them; I prefer the term brats, running around the streets aimlessly? With their diseases, runny noses and penchant for being vandals, it's really not the best idea. Also, might I remind you that the factories are Albion's greatest revenue. You would be losing a lot of money by closing them down, Your Majesty, now is that really wise given our current circumstances?" Reaver's emerald eyes twinkled as he said the entire thing, as if it was all one giant joke to him. The kingdom was falling to pieces, gold slipping from between the Queen's fingers like water, Eternal Darkness only an ocean a way and this infuriating man was laughing off child enslavement? Raven's blood boiled, her fingers twitching in an overwhelming urge to draw the pistol sitting at her hip and silence the devious businessman permanently. Fortunately she was saved the action when Paige again jumped into the debacle, Raven calmly watching the two verbally sparring like the good little royal she was.
"You're talking about robbing children of their innocence for money!" Paige cried, hands curled into fists at her side as that dark childhood she had kept so well hidden behind walls of steel burst forth, burning behind dark eyes. Fortunately only the young woman who sat on the throne and her mentor knew where that darkness was truly coming from.
"Not just any money, darling. Boatloads of money," Reaver nonchalantly replied, any emotion he may have felt at the woman's outburst hidden behind that damned smirk.
Raven watched the two with all the grace she had been brought up with; face a blank mask as her mind worked a mile a minute behind that mask. They both had very valid points, both had favourable outcomes. Could she really force those children to work so she could have money? On the other hand, without the money most of them along with the rest of Albion would surely perish from the darkness. But then again if they were going to die, they deserved to at least have something good to remember about this life. Balls, Raven silently growled to herself followed promptly by cursing very unfitting of a Monarch.
Suddenly something furry appeared under Raven's hand, which had dangled over the side of the throne's armrest, and she looked down to see her faithful black and white hound staring at her. Rebel, named after his tendency to rebel against anyone but his master and name becoming bitterly ironic on Raven's recent journey, stared up at her with big, black eyes. Something twinkled behind those eyes, Rebel solemn as a dog could be as he barked once; silencing the two still bickering like children. To the confusion of everyone in the room save Walter the two had one of their infamous mental conversations.
"Yea, I know" Raven sighed a few moments later, smiling as the dog barked again, tongue lolling out and tail wagging happily. Out of the corner of her eye Raven saw Walter smirking behind his luxurious moustache and beard.
All fell silent as they observed their monarch, outlined in fragmented golden light from the stained glass windows behind her, holding their breaths as she delivered her verdict.
"The children will go free," Raven commanded, voice echoing around the cavernous room. There was silence, and then tumultuous cheering rose to the ears of the young monarch. Raven smiled, relief in her heart that those kids could have a good life but the weight of her debt threatening to pin her to the throne if she did any more than smile. She would have to take extra shifts that night after all.
Paige's lips curved upward in the ghost of a smile and another small nod was all the acknowledgement that Raven would get, but that was fine with her. Paige was never one for public displays of praise or affection, a trait that Raven found most refreshing.
Reaver looked bored as usual as he stared at the queen again before bowing grandly, "Your desire is my command, Your Majesty. Really, anything you desire would be my humblest duty to grant"
Raven shuddered again, looking imploringly to Walter for some sort of permission that she could blow Reaver's face up with a well aimed fireball. Walter looked at Reaver with the same disdain that the Queen did but shook his head anyway. Raven harrumphed and sunk down into her seat. Maybe tomorrow then.
Finally left to her own thoughts in the comfort of her chambers, Raven sank back against the closed wooden door, sliding down until she sat on the floor. Groaning as her muscles creaked from sitting still all day, Raven ground her palms into her eyes. Her entire overwhelming situation came back with full force now she was alone, the thoughts she had chained to the back of her mind breaking free and plaguing her already fragile mind. She was frustrated, feeling just as helpless as she had when her brother had sat on the throne except now everything that could and would go wrong was entirely her fault. Ten thousand possibilities filled her mind, half featuring a gruesome death for all of Albion, gone and replaced as soon as they appeared. It was like grasping water, fruitless and endlessly aggravating. Another monotonous day had passed and she was no closer to the task that had been set for, in fact she was so far in debt that she couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. Suddenly she felt what it was like to be Logan, hated by the people because he was trying to protect them. But now she had to accomplish something that had taken him more than five years in the span of 365 days. Fate had one nasty sadistic streak.
Raven's hands reached out to grasp the soft blue carpet of her bedroom, fingers twining themselves with the bristles as she let a few tears leak from the corners of her closed eyes. She wanted to run away and leave it all behind, travel the world and completely forget who she was or the blood that ran in her veins. She wanted Logan. She wanted Elliot to be alive. She wanted her mother to tell her what to do. She was just a girl wearing her mother's crown, playing her mother's life. Raven let out a hoarse laugh that was anything but pleasant in the near darkness, disgusted and amused by herself. She hadn't wanted her mummy since she was nine and just learning to fight.
Soft whining brought Raven back to reality, a warm body flopping itself across her lap as panting filled the now silent room. Raven smiled faintly to herself, hands patting her faithful companion as she took a deep breath and stood up. Now was not the time to be sulking in dark rooms, she thought to herself, the entire kingdom is depending on me to protect them, I can't just run away and hide.
With that thought in mind, Raven softly padded around the room to light candles Jasper had left over from last night. When that was done, revealing gilded wooden walls and patterned deep blue carpet, she sat down at her dresser and set about carefully taking the metal pins out of her hair that kept the crown secure. After peeking around the room to confirm she was alone, Raven pressed a secret button in the back of her dresser and took out the clothes that would hopefully earn her enough money to pay off her debts. They could also prove to be her undoing, if anyone ever found out where she disappeared to at night. It was a secret that weighed heavily on her mind whenever she looked at her people, but it was her secret alone to carry.
Raven studied herself in the full length mirror sitting in the corner of the rooms she had used while still a Princess, having declined the offer to be moved to Logan's rooms. It just felt wrong to her. Short black skirt that barely reached her knees covered her most treasured areas, a long, sheer black train reaching to her ankles rose out from the back. Knee-length fishnet stockings run up her legs followed by her usual leather lace-up boots. A black corset traced each of her curves, barely covering the tips of her breasts, her long, unbound, chocolate brown waves doing the best work at covering up the skin exposed. Each item of skimpy clothing was trimmed in royal purple silk. These were the clothes of a prostitute; Raven mentally grimaced, securing a black and violet half-mask over her eyes. This was her dirty, little, secret. Securing a cloak around her barely clothed body, she pulled the hood down over her eyes, obscuring herself from view to anyone unless they really looked. Everyone had to do what they could to protect Albion, Raven had said during her coronation speech, no matter the sacrifice they must make. No matter the sacrifice. She was really starting to regret those words.
Chilly autumn air whispered to the lone figure of a girl wandering down the back alleys of Bowerstone Industrial, the siren call of the deceptive, waiting waters too much for some of the people that Logan forgot. Taking one's life was not uncommon in this grizzly part of the great city know to all as Bowerstone. Arms wrapped around the figures small body to fend off the cold, eyes locked on the grey cobblestone but her pace a little too brisk for the downtrodden residents of the Industrial.
Raven bit down on her lip and hurried her steps into a near run as something cold ran down her spine, dread running down her throat to pool into rocks in her stomach. She had always felt bad when coming to the building she was fast approaching, it's flashing lights and lecherous inhabitants like a twisted second home to the young woman, but never this horrible. She felt like she could wretch, her head dizzy, but when she was forced to stop and try her inner self quickly reminded her she had not eaten all day. Something very bad was going to happen.
Raven slipt around to the back of the large building, steps unconsciously slowing down as a sweaty hand reached for the handle of the back door. Her heart pounded in her chest, making her ribs hurt somehow.
"You're just being paranoid Raven," She scolded herself, taking a deep breath, "you've done this a thousand times, just go in, do a little dance, serve those bastards their drinks and get your money"
A furry head peaked out curiously from between her legs, looking at her than staring pointedly to the door. Raven took another deep breath to calm her erratic heartbeat before opening the door and heading inside, Rebel bounding along excitedly in front of her.
Loud squeals followed by pearls of soft, feminine laughter reached Raven's ears as she walked into the preparation room. All of the prostitutes were gathered around Rebel, patting his silky fur or cooing soft words to him like they would a baby. Rebel, for his part, loved the attention, barking and rolling onto his back merrily. Raven smiled softly, taking off her cloak and hanging it over a chair. The prostitutes had never objected to Rebel's presence, some even referring to him as their knight; a sentiment that reminded her painfully of Elliot. If any of them had recognized him by the Queen's side outside of this house none of them mentioned it, it was a certain unspoken rule between them: Say nothing about anyone and no-one will say anything about you. It had worked to keep her identity hidden for all these months, and for that Raven was eternally grateful.
"Oi, you lot, get back out there," A gruff voice commanded from the doorway and Raven looked over to see the short, balding figure of the Whorehouse's proprietor; Jacob. All of the prostitutes jumped up as one and shuffled out of the room. Another unspoken rule apparently. A few seconds later Raven joined them but as she was about to enter the main floor, a clammy hand clasped around her arm, jerking her back.
"We need a girl on for some more…private clients. You're the only one left sweetheart," Jacob explained with a toothless leer. Raven repressed the sudden urge to have a very long bath and quickly scanned the room. Just as Jacob had said: completely and utterly deserted. Balls.
"This way," Jacob said, leading her through a secret door that appeared to skirt the main room, where loud music and much laughing could be heard through the thin walls and end up directly in front of the private rooms. Jacob pulled her roughly toward a pair of carved red doors and Raven was about to snap that she was a strictly no touch dancer. But all words and logical thought left her as quickly as the breath escaping her lungs as Jacob opened the doors to reveal the reason why her stomach had churned. For their sitting on a plush red couch, a glass of some expensive looking wine in one hand and legs crossed over each other, sat the very man she had been trying to avoid all day.
Reaver.