Hello there my dears! :D Welcome to The Secrets of an Amoral life, a little story I've written which will be PrincessxReaver. Here is the first chapter, I'm aware it is a little short but it's just a quick introduction. If you'd like me to continue, just review and say the word! This isn't the first Fable story I've written, I wrote the Destruction of Oakvale a couple of years ago but I feel like my writing has improved a little since then, so I'm tackling the titanic task of writing Reaver once more.
Disclaimer - I don't own Fable, of course I don't. I don't even on Reaver's longjohns; they're Benjamina's now...I should have kept them.
Enjoy!
The Secrets of an Amoral Life.
Chapter 1 - Reaver Returns...with style.
The dark curtain of night and ominous rolls of thunder perfectly suited Reaver as his carriage rumbled along the cobblestones leading up to Bowerstone Castle. Oh, how he relished a dramatic entrance. Spits of rain pattered against his carriage roof, running down the streets in trickling streams and he slowly twirled his long metal cane between his fingers, contemplating the scene outside his window. The streets were clean and much less populated by beggars than when he had last strolled through Bowerstone. Interesting - it looked like his little Queen had made life better for her people. How avant-garde for a ruler. Or perhaps her population had perished in the attack from the Darkness. It would be interesting to find out which.
The carriage rolled to a stop, waiting for another to pass and Reaver tutted impatiently. A vagrant of a man stumbled towards his carriage pleading unintelligibly for gold, or food, or yet another thing for which Reaver had no care. Sighing, and wrinkling his nose at the foul smell which emanated from the homeless man, the hero of skill swiftly pulled his pistol from its holster and planted a bullet between the disgusting man's eyes, which had widened in repulsive fear before what little light was in them vanished forever. Smoke streaming from the new hole in his forehead, the man dropped into a mud filled puddle on the ground with a loud splash and Reaver carefully placed his pistol back in its holster. He rapped his cane smartly against the roof and leaned forward slightly.
"Driver! If we do move along now, I will be forced to shoot you. I have already been harassed once this evening, my dear man. Do not force me to dirty my carriage with a pool of blood."
With a satisfying jolt, the carriage speedily began its journey towards the castle once more, Reaver reclining happily against the stuffed red seats.
He felt rejuvenated; his skin which had been becoming slightly stretched and sallow now radiated with a youthful glow, plump and fresh as a baby's. His heart tattoo sat high on his finely cut cheekbones and stretched slightly as he grinned at the sight of the castle ahead.
It was good to be back.
Hope you liked it :)
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