A/N: Hey all! This is my first serious fanfiction. I really hope you enjoy it. It's based off of Fables 2 and 3. Lysander Kallendrias, son of Reaver, is the king of Albion and Rachel Baudelaire is his mistress. Sparrow is his mother and Reaver is his father... After Sparrow passed, Lysander was handed the crown before his triplets Rosarria and Cain, and their younger sister Samantha. Reaver started bedding more ladies after the death of his wife to fill the gap left inside him due to Sparrow's death. This is all based off of roleplay with my friends BUT all of this, every word, is mine. Rated M for lemons between Lysander and Rachel... After all, they are lovers.
Enjoy, my lovelies.
The night was dark. Dark, and most definitely stormy... In the master bedchambers of a very large mansion, the owner of said mansion was tossing and turning in her sleep. The next day would be her fiftieth birthday... The official coming-of-age for most elves of her rank and society. She was so nervous, and her soul seemed to sense that. Her spirit reached out to the one she yearned for most, the only man she truly loved. As they both slept, their spirits linked mysteriously, if only for a short while. Their shared dream was as follows.
Rachel looked around the strange area, taking slow steps. What was this place? Fog drifted just above the ground and teased her ankles. She felt weak, she felt frail and as if her arms could snap. When finally there was a change in scenery- a crystal clear pool of water- her reflection was horrendous. Knotted hair was the least of her worries. What was once a beautiful and strong woman was now a weak, bony creature; she looked very much like a skeleton. A voice reached out to her and wrapped her in a soothing embrace, and it was as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was the voice of her lover and father of her twin children. He was now the reflection in her place! When Rachel's painfully thin hand reached out to touch the water, the liquid changed reflections back to hers again. Except... This reflection was of the healthy her. Vibrant, glowing, active..
"Young child, do not be afraid. That is not your true form. That is the embodiment of how you shall die- drowning. You shall be so heartbroken when Lysander dies that you will refuse water, food, or sleep. Slowly your body will break down, but before you have total organ failure, you shall literally drown in your own tears." A hand, covered in a gauntlet, reached out towards the frail reflection of Rachel. With some reluctance, she took the reflection's hand and was pulled into a new world with the same scenery. Still frail, she hoped that her brittle bones wouldn't break yet they didn't.
Two figures were off in the distance. They seemed masculine. The stronger Rachel, right next to the weaker Rachel, ran towards the two men and her counterpart stumbled along like a newborn fawn; clumsy and unsure. One man embraced the armored woman and the other looked as if he had trouble running alongside him. Upon closer look, it was Lysander that the healthy Rachel was greeting lovingly. The other woman did a double take as they parted, an arm wrapped around the other's waist as if they were a couple. Lysander looked at the weakened Rachel pitifully and gave his own lover a squeeze to show his gratefulness for her health. Healthy Rachel, meanwhile, did the same to the second man. Her brown eyes expressed sorrow and worry for him.
Upon second look, the weakened Rachel realized that the other man was also Lysander. Like her he was pitifully weak and obviously dead or dying. His skin tone was more pale than usual, his green eyes tired yet alert. His Kingly outfit was torn and obviously he'd died in a battle of some sorts. "Rachel...!" he whispered, reaching out to the dead woman. His gloved fingers beckoned h
er and she placed a hand atop his shakily.
"Lysander..." Her voice was raspy and hoarse, a counterpart to his strong yet sleepy voice. Rachel's brown eyes met his green ones and they got just a few steps closer. This seemed to have an effect on them, as their bodies were slowly being restored from the point at which their hands met. It was as if the touch of their lovers restored their former selves. As they were restored, the healthy and armored dopplegangers disappeared as their health was regained. Like magic, it was, that this would occur. The color in their skin and eyes returned finally, like the happiness in their smiles did. When they were fuy restored, Lysander picked up Rachel and twirled her around. The area around them became healthy, green and natural again instead of the fog drifting about. Clouds rolled across the sky, the grass was green, flowers dotted the landscape and were placed as skillfully as if it were an artist's painting. Their laughs and other sounds of relief and contentment echoed through the land.
Rachel pulled away from her love, shaking her hips for a second before taking off with all the speed of a frightened rabbit. Her single-layered, simple white dress flew out behind her as she ran. Lysander took chase and was practically flying over the ground, feet barely visible as he was running. After about ten minutes of chase, of running around and acting like children again, he caught her and they crashed to the ground in a mass of giggles and laughter. Atop a hill, they came to a stop and just laid there the catch their breath and laugh at the pure joy coursing through them.
Lysander acted upon instinct as he rolled over to be atop Rachel. Their hearts practically stopped as hot, heavy pants and light gasps for breath washed across each other's skin. The young man was embarassed that he'd done something out of instinct for once and blushed, looking away. Rachel simply smiled in a warm manner, taking his face in her hands and kissing him slowly and lovingly. Her lips, soft and smooth as always, couldn't seem to get enough of him as they explored and kissed the rest of his face and leaving him kiss the air a moment. Pressing her mouth to him over and over again, she made such little raspy sounds that could easily drive a man mad with desire for her. She seemed so eager to please, wanting to feel his body once more. Who knew what would happen next, or how much time they had left? Why not utilize such time they had?