Disclaimer: I own nothing Fable, not the Princess/Hero/Queen, Albion, or the wonderfully delightful Reaver. It's just for fun, and we do so love fun. =P

Author's Note: Well, if you're reading this, I thank you for being interested enough to at least click on it. So, this is the first chapter of my first story, (on this site), and because of such, I feel I should inform you of a few things I'm planning for the future of this story. While dealing with canon events, I will try to stick to the dialogue as much as possible, but there's only so much you can expect. The rating was chosen because A) the game itself is rated such, and B) anything Reaver has a hand in is not suitable for young children. =P Also, I apologize for this first chapter; I've never really liked the beginning of games, (excluding the first or second time I play them.), so I'm kind of trying to rush past this first bit so we can get to the fun stuff. I once again thank you for bothering to read my story, even if you don't make it past this note. XD


The castle had been growing unusually tense lately, anyone could see that, but on this day it seemed far worse. As the Princess awoke at Jasper's insistence, the morning seemed quite fine. The weather was fair, and she was to meet with Elliot after she dressed. Yes, everything seemed rather wonderful in those early moments of the day. Dressed in simple finery, (the term may have been redundant, but it was far less lavish than some of the clothes in her wardrobe), she departed from her quarters after she bade her butler farewell. She was far accustomed to seeing soldiers salute her and civilians and staff bow as she passed, and had long since paid it any mind, save for the polite nod and smile that followed their various gestures. She hadn't the time to stop and greet every one of them individually, and she doubted that was their desire either. It was simply a formality for both parties. The Princess couldn't even begin to guess how many formalities she was told to adhere to, and frankly the whole thing had become bothersome awhile ago. As luck would have it, after a short while of finding it bothersome, she found it routine, hence it was no longer a bother. Some things just worked out well, formalities being one of them. Drawn out of her thoughts of etiquette by the sound of a familiar voice greeting Burd, her ever-loyal canine compatriot. The sight of Elliot's smiling face brought a smile to the Princess' own face as he turned his attention from Burd to her.

"Ah, my fair Princess, finally awake I see! You're lucky you have such loyal guards as me and Burd!" He teased, standing to greet her properly. The Princess chuckled, but rolled her eyes all the same.

"I can take care of myself, you know." She replied, hands on her hips, her tone playful.

"Oh really? I don't think I'm convinced... Perhaps you can prove your qualification." He continued, the same jovial grin on his face. The Princess really was fond of him and his antics. He had been an ally for as long as she could remember, and he had done a wonderful job of being by her side when she needed him. Though she wasn't sure if she was comfortable with calling it love, at times it certainly felt like just that. This was one of those times, as her reply was to pull him closer and grant him a soft kiss, drawn out but not so much as to be considered indecent. When she pulled away, his playful grin had been replaced by a rather silly one. It was something of a cross between shock and contentment, and quite possibly the cutest face she had ever seen him make.

"How does that suffice?" She inquired with a smirk and a chuckle. He seemed barely able to pull himself out of his daze to reply.

"That... That was quite wonderful, actually." He mumbled, blushing slightly, "Anyways, I'm guessing Jasper told you I wanted to speak with you." He added, causing the Princess to furrow her brows as the subject turned serious.

"Yes... Is something wrong?" She asked this, though she had a fairly good idea what Elliot wanted to talk about. The staff may have kept their complaints to barely audible whispers, the Princess had still been hearing murmurs of discontent. Logan's policies had taken on a more... 'Radical' edge lately, and many of the citizens of Albion were having mutinous thoughts because of such. Even one as detached as herself could tell it wasn't going to end well one way or another.

"Well, things have been tense around here. More so than usual, that is. The castle staff aren't terribly pleased with your brother right now, and I told them you'd come and speak with them. Oh, Walter will be there to cheer you on as well." Though she did love Elliot, and though she did want to help improve conditions as best she could, the fact that he had enlisted her for this task without her consent irked her slightly. She was not fond of having her decisions made for her, hence why she was herself displeased with her brother. Though she did not have to suffer the tragedy of poverty or starvation, the Princess had had little freedom in all of her life. She didn't like people exacerbating that fact.

"Yes, of course." She replied cheerily, despite her feelings on the matter, "I'll do whatever I can to ensure the people's minds are at ease."

"Excellent. Well then, my fair Princess, will you take my hand so we can be off?" He inquired with a bow, extending his hand towards her. Her smile returning, the Princess accepted the offered hand and walked with her lover through the gardens, en route to the kitchen where the staff gathered. Her attention was briefly drawn to a haggard looking chicken, who wearily stumbled it's way out of the kitchen, but then was forced to turn her attention to the gathered staff members. All of them, Elliot included, watched her expectantly. Though she wasn't sure exactly what she was going to say, those stares encouraged her to launch into an impromptu speech.

"I know you have all been feeling a bit neglected as of late. My brother has been too... Preoccupied with other matters that you've been overlooked. Rest assured, I will speak with him and work towards your benefit. Thank you." She thought the speech sounded below par of what was expected of her, but the staff seemed happy as they applauded her words. She smiled warmly at the gathered staff before turning to Walter, the man in charge of her combat training as well as a dear friend.

"You call that a royal speech? There were no harsh words, no lecture; you were far too soft! ...It was bloody brilliant." The aged man chuckled, "It seems you have a talent for this, Princess." This caused her to chuckle.

"A single speech does not mean I have a 'talent' for it, Walter." Sh replied with a wide grin, the troubles forgotten for a moment. The Princess loved Walter in the way one loves a father, as her own father died before she even had a chance to remember him. Walter was always there, and her mother had even put her faith in him. Good friends like him were few and far between.

"Ah, just wait; you'll prove yourself wrong. Anyways, it's time for your combat training. You ready?" Most wouldn't have thought that a portly old man would have been able to fight properly, let alone train someone properly, but Walter was one of the best soldiers, his growing age proof of such.

"Okay. I'll see you later, Elliot." The Princess replied as she began to trail behind Walter on their way to the training room. Elliot bade his farewell, and proceeded to disappear from view as Walter and the Princess made their way up the stairs. Yes, things truly seemed to be normal, if not wonderful, that morning. It's amazing how quickly things could change.

On the way to the training room, Walter spoke of the rumors that had been circulating as of late, that they were true, and how everyone was more than a little unhappy with Logan. He said things that, should Logan have heard them, would have likely gotten Walter charged with treason and likely executed like the factory worker had been. It made the Princess nervous to hear Walter talk like that, as his death would be the greatest of tragedies. She was happy to be drawn out of her depressing thoughts by the sound a group of protests ringing out through the spacious room. Behind a barrier of crimson velvet ropes, there stood a gathering of, by the looks of their clothing, commoners demanding the King hear their complaints. The Princess knew they'd likely not get past the velvet barrier, made effective by the four armed guards. She wished their voices could have been heard, but Logan... Had changed.

"Walter!" One of the protesters called out as they approached, "What a stroke of luck! We're gathering signatures to get the King to help those in poverty. I'm sure your signature would make all the difference." The Princess knew this to be false, but also knew that these people had little else to hope for.

"Well, sure, but I don't think my signature's going to make much of a difference. The Princess', on the other hand, will likely be far more effective." He glanced at her, informing her that she should reply. Again, there was the slightest twinge of displeasure at being enlisted for something she hadn't signed up for, but with a small smile, the Princess replied.

"Of course; I'd be happy to sign." She then proceeded to sign her name on the paper presented to her. She knew that it likely wouldn't matter if her name showed up on a harmless petition, and Walter confirmed her thoughts shortly after they left the earshot of the petitioners. He didn't have to tell her for her to know her brother wouldn't pay even the barest of attention to the collective plea, and she doubted he'd even look at it long enough to notice her signature. She briefly wondered if she was a pessimist, as her thoughts seemed to indicate so, but shrugged it off. She wasn't a pessimist, she was a realist. When looking at the 'half full/half empty cup' example, she simply saw a half cup of water. Realism really wasn't all it was cut out to be...

The Princess barely had time to pull herself out of her musings to hear Walter instruct her to arm herself. She nodded and examined the weapons rack, though there seemed little point to it. The rack was filled with the standard issue swords found in the hands of all guards and soldiers, so there was no choice but to pick up the healthiest looking blade and turn towards Walter. As she was turning, she saw his approach. It was surprisingly fast considering his size, and the Princess barely managed to raise her own weapon in defense. The impact travelled up her arm, knocking her back slightly, but before Walter could bring down his sword for a second attack, she used the stumble to her advantage, turning it into a backwards roll. Walter's blade hit the ground with a resounding 'CLANG', and the Princess took the first advantage she saw to lunge. Her sword was deflected with ease, but she continued pushing the assault. She was blocked again and again, but it wasn't a matter of hitting him, it was simply a chance to put her training and strength to the test.

"Do you remember the stories I used to tell you when you were young?" He inquired, thrusting his sword towards her only to have it smacked away with her own, "The stories about your mother, the great Hero Queen, and her adventures? And, after each story, you'd say..."

"Teach me to be a Hero!" The Princess replied, swinging particularly hard at Walter, though it did little better than her previous attacks.

"Every bloody time." Walter chuckled, "I wish that was something I could teach you, but I've done my best. Now you need to do your best! Hit me with everything you've got! Come on!"

With a look that could only be described as pure determination, the Princess threw everything had into the one strike that Walter seemed so eager to see. She swiped downwards, hearing the two weapons collide and see the sparks fly. As the sparks appeared, she turned her head to shield herself from the sudden brightness, but immediately realized that even a minor break in concentration could lead to her death in a real battle, and her expression mirrored this personal defeat. Walter, on the other hand, couldn't have been more pleased with the results.

"You only went and broke it!" He cried, holding up what was left of his weapon for her to see, "I'd have to say I'm a bloody good teacher, eh?" Walter's excited laughter was rather contagious, and brought a chuckle of triumph from the Princess. She was more than a little pleased to see that her slip-up wouldn't have gotten her killed, as her enemy would have been unarmed, even if only temporarily. On the topic of 'temporary', it seemed that this brief moment of joy was also temporary, as Elliot burst through the doors to the training room with a look of distress.

"Walter, Princess! Both of you need to come quickly! There's something going on outside the castle! It looks like a demonstration!" Elliot cried, beckoning them to follow as he dashed back down the corridor he had come from only seconds before. After exchanging a quick glance, she and Walter dashed after him, fearing for the worst. It looked their fears were correct as they peered out the window upon the mob that was beginning to cause a ruckus. As Walter had put it; this couldn't end well. Walter left hastily, saying he was going to try and reason with Logan, which the Princess thought was another thing that couldn't end well. Of course, it just wasn't a bad day without multiple things with impossible odds of ending well, so naturally Elliot had to present his own bad idea.

"We should go see what they're talking about." He suggested, glancing around, "Look, the guards aren't by the stairs anymore! Let's go before anyone notices." And before the Princess could tell him otherwise, he began up the stairs. She was left with the choice of following Elliot to spy on Walter and her brother, or standing here and watching the crowd get more and more excited. She chose the former and chased after Elliot, wondering how this day could possibly get any worse. She was amazed to find that they were able to make it to the war room without getting seen, though she guessed it was because of the small riot outside.

Elliot was already looking through one of the keyholes, and he gestured for her to follow his example. Sighing, the Princess knew this was too far gone to simply walk away from now, so she leaned down and peered through the tiny hole. She was greeted with the sight of Logan, Walter, and two of Logan's 'special' soldiers. The Princess barely remembered how she had gotten to this point as she watched, everything having happened so rapidly. She had barely been awake an hour, and yet she already had so many issues put before her. This, however, seemed the most prevalent event yet.

"Shoot to kill; start with the leaders and continue if the crowd if necessary." The Princess heard Logan order the soldiers standing on either side of him.

"Logan, you can't-!" Walter's plea was cut short when one of the purple-clad soldiers hit the back of him knee with the butt of his rifle.

"Do not presume to tell me what I can and can't do." Logan replied icily. Elliot pulled away from the keyhole, looking horrified. He turned to the Princess, his thoughts clearly displayed on his face. She knew what he was going to say before he said it, and agreed with him to no end.

"You have to get in there! You can't let him do this!" Elliot whispered, and the Princess nodded. Taking a deep breath, she turned back towards the door and stared at the door handle. It almost felt like it was mocking her, telling her not to open it, but reminding her that she had to open it. Pushing past her own discomfort, she threw the door open with a certain amount of unintended dramatic flair. She glared hard at her elder brother, disgusted he would be so cold.

"What are you doing here? The war room is no place for a child." Even when speaking directly to her, he seemed so far detached. She continued to glare, letting him know she meant business.

"I'm not a child, and I can't let you do this. You can't kill all those people." She replied heatedly, her stomach twisting and being generally unsettled. She never enjoyed confronting her brother, as he was King; he had power. She had little more say than the rest of the kingdom, despite her blood relation to him.

"You betray me as well?" He asked incredulously, his ever-present frown on his face, "Perhaps you think it should be you ruling Albion?" It was a rhetorical question, but the Princess still snarled a reply.

"I never said that, Logan, nor did I imply it. Killing those people won't make Albion's collective discontent better; it will worsen it." She snapped, a smoldering glare aimed directly at him. How could he come to such short-sighted decisions? How could he not know it would only end in tragedy for all sides? It was sickening.

"Since it is clear that you feel you are better equipped to make these choices, I will let you." Was his answer, absolutely baffling the Princess. He was reading far too much into her defense of the innocent. "Bring my sister and her friend to the throne room; we will settle this matter there." He added to one of the soldiers, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand. The knot in the Princess' stomach worsened as she was none-too-gently dragged away. She sought some form of comfort in Elliot, clutching his hand as if her life depended on in. She knew her brother had changed quite a bit, enough so that people called him mad, but she hadn't realized just how far gone he had become. It scared her, as she didn't know what he was planning. She did know, however, that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be pleasant. His tone alone had told her that much. As they were pushed into the throne room, Elliot was shoved particularly hard by the soldier nearest to him. He fell to the floor with a 'thud', and lay there for a moment, dazed. Glaring at the insolent man whom had dared treat her best friend in such a manner, the Princess bent over to help him back to his feet.

"Leave him alone. I may not be your ruler, but I am still your Princess, and I won't stand for such brutish behavior." She snapped, though she was only replied by the renewed insistence she keep moving. Not bother to stifle her grunt of displeasure, the Princess continued walking, holding Elliot closer now.

"What do you think Logan will do?" Elliot whispered, glancing around nervously.

"I don't know..." She replied, anger again replaced by fear. Fear of not knowing, fear of being helpless, fear of her brother. She felt an all-encompassing fear as she approached the throne where Logan sat, looking a haughty as ever. There were three villagers standing to the right, kept in place by more of the damnable soldiers that Logan favored so much. They looked more frightened than the Princess could ever comprehend, as their lives very likely depended on this gathering. It was because of this that she banished her fear from her thoughts, putting on a defiant expression. If Logan intended to scare her into conformity, as he was doing to all of Albion, he was sorely mistaken. With poise and grace only attainable by one who had been forced to practice it her entire life, the Princess released her hold on Elliot and approached her brother, who stared down at her with cold, uncaring eyes.

"You choose to defend these traitors, and now you shall have your chance. You will choose who will be punished; these strangers, or this boy." He pointed to Elliot, causing the Princess to intensify her glare, "The punishment will be death. Now choose." Her narrowed eyes shot open as wide as they could, as she stared hard at Logan, waiting for some sign that this was a joke. When there was no sign, the Princess sputtered out a reply.

"Y-you can't do this! I won't choose!" She cried, now realizing just how mad Logan truly was. The old Logan would never have presented her with such a horrible choice. She felt well and truly helpless under her brother's apathetic gaze.

"If you can't, I will." He stated calmly before looking towards the guards, "Kill them all." The Princess' jaw dropped.

She couldn't let him do this; they couldn't all die simply because she couldn't choose between three innocent people and the boy she loved. Elliot felt the same, begging her to choose him and let the others live. Her mind swam, the choice she had to make like a dagger in her heart. One thought stood out among the rest; Logan would suffer for this. It didn't help her make the decision, but it made her icy enough to break out of her stupor. She glanced at the cowering civilians, and then at Elliot, her mind still buzzing. She let out a shaky breath and replied, each word heavier and harder to utter than the last.

"Let the civilians go free..."

She was too numb to register much of what happened afterwards. She had eyes only for Elliot, who had a crushing fear in his eyes. She couldn't hear the thanks of the people she had spared, as they had cost her something dear to her. She had made the right choice morally, but... Doing the right thing was painful in ways unimaginable.

"Take him away; kill him now." Logan ordered before turning his attention back to his sister, who refused to tear her eyes off of Elliot as he was dragged away, "Now you have had a taste of some of the choices I must make, sister." Rage welled up inside of the young woman as she raised teary angry eyes to the man who called himself 'King'. Never before had she truly felt hate, and now it was eating at her insides, causing her to shake uncontrollably.

"Don't" she hissed, "call me 'sister'. You are no brother of mine; just a bastard with a crown." She wanted to attack him, she wanted to fall to the ground and dry, she wanted to do so much all because of the mixed feelings of hate and sorrow. She was overwhelmed with those two emotions she could barely control what she said. "You will pay for this, Logan. Mark my words, you will pay for this." And with that she left the throne room at a quick stride. Ignoring the concerned looks she recieved from the castle staff, she dashed towards her room as soon as she was out of Logan's line of sight. She closed the door and fell to the floor, sobbing heavily. She cried so hard she thought she would die of the sorrow that assaulted her. She was barely aware when she stood up, still sobbing, and launching attack after attack on harmless inanimate objects. Anything she could get her hands on, she destroyed out of pure rage.

And then she heard the shots.

A scream erupted from her, a cry of unhampered lament. She had read about such dramatic happenings, and had dismissed them as the fanciful occurances only present in stories, and yet here she was, a scream of raw emotion tearing through her throat, as she was hit with the feeling of profound loss. Yes, today was the worst kind of day.