Hi! This is my first Fable story. It is my take on what may have happened when Reaver went to the Shadow Court. After reading his diaries in game I couldn't help but do this. It will be a short story of about 5 chapters. Please read and review because I love reviews :D Also, it was so difficult to get Reaver's character right before he went all mean!

Disclaimer- I, in no way shape or from, own Fable or any of its characters.

Chapter 1

____________

A loud crack filled the still sea air as a bottle smashed and littered the sand, the glass glittering under the bright afternoon sun. A young man sat a short distance away aiming his pistol at the bottle lined up next to the smashed one. He closed one of his eyes and his tongue peeked out from his mouth as he aimed at the centre of the bottle. He pulled the trigger and gave a satisfied smirk as the bottle exploded in shards like the previous one. If there was one thing he was proud of, it was his aim with a pistol. He was well known for it among his fellow citizens in Oakvale and all respected it. All except Her. He couldn't care less what those other people thought; he vied for attention, not theirs'.

Sighing dejectedly the young man stood and brushed the sand from his breeches, he didn't want his mother to know he had been practicing shooting again instead of helping at the blacksmiths. She was beginning to wonder why he wasn't bringing money in though. He couldn't help it if he did not want to help make swords. He found them barbaric. Why would one want to slash at people and get their blood all over you, when you could shoot them down at a safe distance?

Hearing shouting, the man turned around to face the sea. He spotted a ship close to the shore and smiled in longing. Oh, he wanted to be at sea. That was where his fortune lay and he knew it. He was told by his mother that his father had been a very successful sailor, despite never having heard of him, the man was inclined to believe it. He knew the call of the sea was in his blood.

Making his way into town, the young man nodded his head to those who greeted him for propriety's sake. He knew his mother would never forgive him if he embarrassed her for being rude. Tucking his worn pistol into his belt, he began to make his way up the small hill towards his house. He glanced over at one of the fields and stopped abruptly as he spotted a young woman talking with another handsome young man. His eyes roved over the young woman and he smiled absentmindedly. Her long, auburn hair fell to her shoulders in soft curls and her smooth, beautiful face was lit by a smile. But it was not for him. It was for the young man to whom she was speaking. He was short and muscled, his face was strong and handsome and his eyes were filled with lust as he gazed at the laughing girl before him.

Suddenly the girl turned, as though feeling Reaver's eyes on her and she smiled brightly, giving him a small wave but not approaching him to talk.

The young man huffed and walked towards his house again, his mind on the young woman who he so adored. He closed the door to the house behind him and hung his coat on the stand beside the door frame.

"Reaver, dear, is that you?" cried a voice from the back garden.

The young man sighed at his name and made his way to the back door to find his mother hanging out the washing.

"Yes, mother, it's me."

The woman smiled at him and lifted the little wooden basket that held the now drying washing.

"How was the blacksmith's today?"

Reaver plastered a false smile on to his face and nodded.

"It went well. He said I'll get my pay any day now."

His mother nodded vigorously and began chopping carrots on the rough wood worktops, her blunt knife flashing through the vegetables. Reaver pictured his head in place of the carrot when his mother found out he was not working.

"I should bloody think so. You've been working like a dog for him."

Reaver cleared his throat as if in agreement and made his way upstairs to wash his hands for dinner.

He hated lying to her but sometimes there was no other way. He was planning to leave soon, preferably with his love so that they could live a wealthy life on the sea. Reaver leaned in close to the dirty mirror on the wall and inspected his young face. He was handsome, that much was certain. His skin was pale and delicate and contrasted with his thick dark hair which flopped in front of his face slightly. His body was lithe and athletic compared to the other boy's bulky muscled build that his love had been speaking to, yet he could not help but feel jealous of the boy who she was talking so happily with.

Reaver sighed and washed his hands, preparing for the barrage of questions he would receive from his mother at dinner.

Thanks for reading, please review!