Title: Mirror
Rating: T
Author: Indigo-go
Disclaimer: I do not own, fable, and no matter how many quarters I throw in that damn wishing well. I never will. :(
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Reaver examined his skin closely in the mirror, could it be, could it possibly be… crow's feet?! He slammed his fist on the ornate table below him, intolerable. That simply would not do.
He simply couldn't believe that he was already aging. How long had it been 50 years, 60? The window behind him, smashed open, though Reaver didn't even bother to turn around. He closed his knew what he had to do, go back to Bloodstone, a smile played on his lips. Aw Bloodstone, his coastal paradise, he had a feeling that his return was going to be in a word eventful.
Sparrow ran a hand along her bleached white skin; she sat in a study of her summer house, located just up the coast, from the shores of Bloodstone. The location wasn't perfect, but it was suitable for a girl like sparrow, well she wasn't such a girl anymore. Neither, her skin nor face, still youthful and glowing with one who had seen far fewer summers than her. Would not tell the story about what the black haired woman had gone through, the scars running along her body, riddled into her flesh. Told the real story, of gunshots and sword fights, of victories, and of defeats.
The well oiled door, opened easily to reverse touch, he took a deep breath.
"Honey, I'm home"
Sparrow looked up from her book, her hand going to the gun in its holster. She slowly stood up advancing towards the study door; she quietly slid a round into the barrel. She snapped it shut and cocked it, aiming at the door. And that's when Reaver came bursting through, as far as their stands, went, they practically mirrored each other, guns pointed, eyes blazing, and the same shocked and slightly confused look on their face. Reaver was the first to speak.
"Sparrow, my dear you're looking" he paused, examining her, was it possible?" as gorgeous as… ever"
Sparrow did not speak to, she also did not loosen her finger on the trigger, and she glared at him from across the room. Reaver laughed and put his gun back at his hip.
"Still as silent as ever, my dear"
He walked silently across her ignoring the gun in her hand; Sparrow lowered her gun, putting it back in its holster, there is no point in having it now. Reaver slid a hand along her cheek, running it down her shoulder to her hand. He lifted the hand to his lips, pressing a kiss upon her knuckles. Reaver looked at her surprise, he had thought her of all people, would've pulled away at this point. But she stood there, unmoving; he let the hand slide out of his, and back down to her side. he examined her one final time, She stood as if she was a statue frozen in time, he slid his dragons stomped 46 from its holster, and aimed easily at the center of her forehead.
"Well my darling, I believe this is where you get off" Reaver spoke triumphantly, but Sparrow rolled her eyes.
"Put your damn gun away, Reaver"
Sparrow had a thick Irish accent, Or perhaps it was Scottish; Reaver hardly cared about the difference. What he cared more about was the fact Sparrow talk. But he replaced his astonishment with smugness, as was his custom.
"By the gods, she speaks I wonder how well she fuc-"
Sparrow cut him off, thank heavens, with the one question that could possibly make him stop and think for a second.
"What do you want with me? You come bursting into my summer home, interrupt my afternoon read, and then threatened to kill me!"
She glared at him through red, snakelike eyes.
"You have some nerve!"
Reavers pick at some imaginary dirt from under his manicured fingernail, completely unfazed from the woman's wrath.
"My my, you picked up some temper my dear,"
He shook his head, he found it adorable, Sparrow was far less good-humored; she folded her arms across her chest, and gave him a look that demanded answers, but refer would have none of it
"Use your words, or I'll have no idea what you want". He looked around his old study, and smiled, glad to see she hadn't done redecorating the years he'd been gone.
Sparrow, gave up, she walked over to the chair in front of the fireplace, and sat down examining Reaver closely. Again she spoke this time her voice, was less scornful.
"How was Samarkand? "
Reaver smiled that would be a delightful question to answer.
"Splendid, the men, the women, the exotic substances, hehe, oh you should've come, we would've had a blast"
Reaver laughed at his own joke, walking over to Sparrow, and placed a hand on her cheek. Part of her wanted to resist slapping his hand away and calling him pervert, but part of her was just too tired to care. The smile on reverse face widened like taking gold, from an over active beaver.
"We could be great, my dear"
He leaned in for a kiss, meeting his mark with no resistance. He quietly slid his dragging crusher, 46 from its holster, he cocked it and place it at the top of her head, she didn't move. He slid his lip against her soft ones. One final time, then shot the gun, killing her instantly. He sighed. She was bleeding all over his favorite chair, he pushed her off, allowing her to bleed on the floor, beneath his feet, he spent the next several hours rifling through drawers, cupboards, chests, anything that could hold, the particular item, he was looking for, a particular item that would again save his life. Finally he found it tucked neatly under the bed. He smiled and walked back down to a study, looking at the body still lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"I'm sorry my dear, but this," he waved the dark seal in front of the corpse," is mine."
He smiled and looked at the mirror above the fireplace, and his smile instantly melted, because there stood the well-defined crow's feet, he smirked at his reflection. Now, that he had the seal that could be easily fixed.
Okay can you guys seriously tell me what you thought please ^-^, I'd really like some feedback on this one!
I know it's kind of a sick story, but too many people betray Reaver as just a sex fiend, and they seem to forget that he's a murderer to, and I just want to address that.
Creative criticism is appreciated, flaming is not, compliments are also greatly admired and storied deep within my heart .
-Love indigo
PS, please please please please, review, it would make me really really happy.
