DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fable. Lionhead does.
Note: I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing. Read at your own risk.
For a while there, things seemed to be going rather well.
Everything was going wonderfully. I had just come in from a town way up north when I moved to Millfields. Well, to be precise, I was still looking for a home at the time.
While I was examining the available housing in the area, I met this wonderful man. He was so suave and handsome; I just couldn't help but fall head over heels for him.
Of course, this wasn't just any plain ole' guy you bump into on the streets, oh no.
He was what every wealthy girl's daddy, or girl's dad in general, looked for when marrying their daughter off. He even ran his own business. Still does too. Long story short, my father approved of my choice. Given that my mum died when I was very young, we needed the money. As an only child, you could say it was my duty to be married to a wealthy man. The love was just like a sort of wedding present.
Yes, that's right, wedding.
He courted, proposed, and I said yes. What woman wouldn't?
The wedding was grand in it's own way. Quite romantic. There weren't too many people there but it was very elegant and the dress… Oh the dress was so pretty, made of the finest materials, and the groom looked positively dapper in his tux.
After the marriage, as one would expect, we went on our honeymoon. I won't tell you where because it's a secret. Even now.
When we finished honeymooning, we returned to Millfields to the terrible news. It turns out that, after the ceremony for our wedding, my father got into an accident. They said he was riding home in his carriage when two Balverines suddenly attacked it.
The monsters were too much for the carriage driver and, when my father left the carriage to see what the ruckus was, they seemed to just be waiting for him. At least, that's what I heard. I'm sure the story was dramatized while I was on my honeymoon with the man of my dreams… Actually, I'm not quite so sure now. I still refuse to give in to all of the rumors to this day.
Anyways, we grieved. I wore black dresses for weeks but he was always there for me, it seemed.
After a while, things gradually got better.
About half a year later I asked him if he wanted to try and have a baby. As it would turn out, his reply was a no. I never quite understood this but, blinded by my own love for him, I never questioned it either.
Another year or so went by and I began to notice strange things. When I moved into his mansion, everything seemed fine… But then I saw a few strange characters running around our home.
And then…
Well, I asked my husband about it but he said he hadn't seen anything. I asked him if we should call the guards but he replied that whoever it may have been wasn't worth the time, if they were even there.
I wasn't sure what to make of that so I told him I would go for a walk to clear my head. So I left the mansion to talk a walk.
It wasn't long before I ran into a pair of nasty Balverines.
Oh, it was terrifying. Simply horrible.
All in all, I was done for.
If you hadn't guessed already, I'm a ghost. Hard to believe, isn't it?
By now I've realized that my death, dubbed an unfortunate accident, wasn't an accident.
When I went to visit my old home, there was my husband in our bedroom…he was…making love to another woman. On our bed! Oh, I felt so betrayed.
And, when he heard the news, he grinned. He actually grinned!
And yet… I'm not mad at him any more. I was for a while but..well…Oh, I must seem pathetic. Forgiving a man who grinned at the news of my death, which may or may not have been by his decision, and who was having sex with another woman when it happened.
I guess, even now, I love him.
Love is strange like that.
End Note: Okay, there ya' go. I felt like writing this for no real reason. It's a one shot for now… If I get enough requests, I might add a few other ghost stories involving our dear friend Reaver.