Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Fable III characters. They are all copyrighted to Lion Head Studios. I'm just playing with them for laughs.
Though the Queen and Peter and all other OCs do belong to me...
A message from Wye – Ok, so after a lot of pleading from a few friends, I have decided to write a Fan-fic of Fable. Le gasp! This will be such a challenge for me I believe, considering Reaver will be a major character and getting him spot on is rather difficult. Well, he's the second main character really, but such trivial things do not matter! Did I really put 'Reaver' and 'Trivial' in the same sentence? Shame on me...
The Displeasure of a Servant.
Chapter one
A diary.
Yes, I seem to have found myself writing a diary. A concept I'm not all that familiar with in my long life, but a fellow servant, a young pretty thing with too much of a happy face to be working in such a hell hole, with an equally hellish 'Master', told me writing my feelings and past down would help with my ever growing frustration.
Oh my, I believe an introduction is in order. The reader may wish to know who is willing to waste time they really do not have writing such scribbles into this book. I am Peter, just Peter. No sharp and witty last name or title. Plain old simple Peter. Though I'm far from plain and simple, probably the only reason why I'm still alive to this date.
Of course, being 'Immortal' helps with that too. Yes, I am one of those kind of people who find it rather difficult to die, much to my Master's frustration. He seems to like shooting his servants around. Of course I've had my fair share of bullets through the skull from that monster, but after so long, it doesn't bother me all that much any more. My brain could do with some ventilation after being filled with that man's egotistical chatter.
Who am I talking of? Well, you may have heard of his name before, I find it hard to believe no one has.
I'm talking of Master Reaver.
The man I hate more then my cursed life span. Yet I must be a good little thing and do as I'm told until the contract is either over, or broken. Though I have a gut feeling that may not be for a very, very long time. Shame. Of course, ripping the man's throat out is also out of the question. I may hate him, but I will respect the contract between the two of us. Least I can do after he helped me out.
I could almost hear you gasp then. Reaver? Help someone? Or course he didn't do it on my behalf, that would be silly of me to believe. Reaver only does things to help himself, and having an Immortal creature like myself working for him seemed to be a benefit for the Industrialist. Why, I may never know.
Maybe I should start at the beginning of this thrilling tale of adventure and misfortune. What am I saying? Wasn't thrilling or adventurous at all really. But I should start somewhere...
0o0o0
It was a good few years ago now that I think back. I was in the servitude of a group of noblemen outside the land of Albion. The country's name escapes my memory, but in my current predicament it didn't all that matter. I was such a rebellious little thing, refusing everything that the snob nosed people ordered me to do and after a while they grew wearly and afraid of me and thought it wise to throw me into a cell, wrapped in enchanted chains which seemed to sap me of my energy. I wish to know where someone would get such an item, but alas, that doesn't matter any more. I doubt they would have told me anyway.
Years passed in that cell, and I have to admit, I did partially break. No food, no light, no noise. Nothing. It was unbearable, starving to death, but not dying. My limbs numb for sitting in the same position, my mouth long since dried out I could barely speak which seemed a waste after I spent years learning the human tongue. And I seemed to have acquired a fear of the dark, one of my only fears to this date in fact.
Then came the day I heard voices for the fist time in ever so long, I can remember feeling twangs of happiness forcing their way up my spine. Was I finally being freed? I was ready to just about do anything to get out of here. I could see a faint light behind my blindfold as the only door to the dark room opened. There were two voices. That deep booming one of the Nobleman who believed 'owned' me, and a very unfamiliar one. I knew for certain it was a young man, well spoken, definitely arrogant though a hint of a dangerous tone in his voice. Another Nobleman perhaps?
My mind started to wander for a moment, so much I failed to listen to the majority of the conversation, though judging by the tone of my current Master's voice, it was clear he was getting fed up with the new comer.
The new man laughed suddenly. It was a rather bone chilling laugh that even got me worried and that is quite a feat for someone to do to me. And then, a gun shot. That took me completely by surprise, as I heard the sound of a large body fall to the ground. The younger noblemen seemed to laugh to himself again, before I heard foot steps approach.
Of course, I wasn't afraid. There was nothing this man could do to me. A shot to my head wouldn't kill me for very long. I heard the rustle of clothes as the man crouched down to my height as I sat there, trying my hardest to see him through the blind fold. But the new comer did that for me, as I felt a gun press against my cheek, before slowly moving upwards, flicking the rags from my eyes.
That was when I first laid eyes on Reaver.
"My my, he was hiding a gem down here, how naughty of him to keep such things from Reaver of all people. I see you were not a waste of my time after all. Marvellous." Reaver smirked down to me, causing my eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
I was about to speak, to question this man before me, but words failed to leave my parched lips. A cough escaped instead, causing the man to shift un-comfortably for a moment.
Reaver, with that large smirk ever present, chuckled lowly to me. "Oh my, has that fiend of a man not been treating you properly? C'est affreux.." He seemed to sigh dramatically as a rather strange language left his thin lips. "Well, now that he is fortunately out of the ideal picture that is life, why don't we make an agreement? A contract if you will." The man asked, that smirk causing the small heart tattoo on his face to crinkle slightly.
I had to admit, my interest was perked to some extent, even if his eyes roaming over my rather naked body did put me off somewhat. I nodded my head, urging him to continue. If he was going to get me out of here, who was I to refuse?
"Splendid that my idea has caught your undying attention. It seems you are in a somewhat bad state, even though you still look awfully ravishing all bound up like that. But alas, that is not why I'm here. We'll save such desires for a later date." He waved his hand for a moment, before looking back to me. "I can easily assume correctly, and I'm always correct, that you want nothing more then to be out of this ghastly room. And I find myself in need of a new personal Servant, considering my last one was un-fortunately consumed by my most ferocious of guests a while back. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this."
Indeed I could. I may have be old, but I wasn't an idiot. It was either stay in this hole and never see the light of day, or enter into a contract and work for this fellow before me. To be honest if I'd known what Reaver was really like, I would have decided to stay in the room. But unfortunately, I was far too desperate to get out at the time.
And so I agreed with the eager nod of my head, and watched that ever growing smirk widen even more. "That's a good boy." He cooed, moving a gloved hand to pat the side of my cheek, and action with caused a rather dry growl to leave my throat. Being touched by a human is not something I particularly like.
Reaver only chuckled at my attempts of being threatening. Well, the growl was rather pathetic really. "Now now, no need to get all defensive." Reaver sighed, his fingers digging into my cheeks, as if pointing out silently he had the position to do whatever he wished. And he did if I must be honest. Releasing his grip on my cheek, he stood up, gun raised towards the metal loop which held my chains in place. "Well, we should make haste before that body over there starts to give off rather fouler smells then it already is. And I'm in no mood to smell like a slaughter house..." With that said, he fired his gun, freeing me of the bounds that held me for so long.
I easily remember the feeling of delight as I felt my arms fall ungraciously to my sides, blood flowing freely into my numb limbs. My attention was ripped back to the figure as he tapped his cane against the floor impatiently. "Now do come a long. I hate to be kept waiting..."Reaver sighed, resting his free hand on a hip as he watched me with slight amusement as I slowly stood, legs quivering lightly from the strain.
The chains dangling from my body felt so heavy, though I could tell my new 'Master' ( A word I absolutely despise ) wouldn't be helping me any time soon, but I stomached it. Last thing I wanted to do was show weakness to this person. "Oh, that's a point..." Reaver sighed out. "What do I call you? The Monster has a name perhaps? I'm not one for remembering names, but I can't keep calling you 'thing' and 'it'."
Monster. Another word I wasn't overly fond of. Indeed I might have been classed as one, along with Balverines and Hobbes, but never the less it was still an unwanted title. "P...Peter..." I finally managed to croak out.
"Peter?" Reaver scoffed lightly. "Such a common and unexciting name. Never mind though! I suppose 'Pet' can be a short nickname for you. Much better if you ask me." He replied, seeing the scowl grow upon my features caused him to purr out to me. "Now don't make those cute faces. I may not be able to control my actions. And it's far too dark and dirty down here for anything like that."
I didn't really want to know what he was talking about at the time, as I slowly limped towards the door, my hands attempting to remove the chains from the manacles on my wrists and the irritating and shameful collar around my neck. A sharp noise suddenly left my cracked lips as I felt something hard whip against my rump, causing me to stumble slightly over the corpse.
That was definitely going to bruise for a little while. Hearing the man chuckle in mirth as he walked past me, we both headed up the stairs, the sounds of my chains and his witty remarks filling the thin spiralled corridor. It wasn't long until we finally made it out of the building and into the garden, I had to squint my eyes shut as sun light flooded on my form. For the first time in years, I couldn't help but smile to myself. For a split second, I truly felt free. Though it would be the last time I genuinely smile.
The screams of some of the nobles from the estate I had been locked under rang in my ears, causing me to growl lightly. The same damn Nobles who agreed to have me locked up all those years ago. I suddenly felt Reaver's breath against my ear as he spoke gently, sadistically to me. "Consider this a treat from me Pet. Why don't you go and have fun, and make sure you make this amusing for me..." His hand moved to stroke the skin around my eyes, gloves rubbing against the soft blue scales which dotted around my eyes and various other areas of my body.
I knew exactly what he meant, and even in my weakened state I didn't hesitate. No, this was my revenge. I cared not if he found this amusing as I practically tore into the closest Noble, ripping her throat out with my fangs, relishing the coppery taste in my mouth. They treated me like a Monster, so I acted like one.
All I could see was red, the screams of the Nobles mingling with that of Reaver's laughter as I carried on shredding and ripping into the innocents around me. The smell of death lingering in my nostrils, only driving me on, wanting more. Wanting to kill. The grass beneath my feet was soaked, morning dew mixed with the red blood of those who had fallen victim to my craze.
I was suddenly torn from my murderous stance as a gun went off, a rather familiar sound as I suddenly looked up, the blood lust that had filled my vision lifting instantly. Reaver was stood by his carriage now, the servants he had brought with him looking over at me in fear as I dropped the man whose throat I was currently gnawing into onto the floor, the man's gurgled cries ignored by all as he choked on his own blood.
"Now that was rather exciting, wasn't it?Bravo I say, but now we must depart. Clean yourself up dear, red may suit you, but I don't want a mess in my carriage... my voiture as it were." Reaver called out to me as he placed his Dragonstomper .48 away. "And then we shall be off to start your new life. I do hope you will entertain me a long the way though. The ride will be long and boring otherwise."
0o0o0
End of that enchanting tale.
That's really it. That is how me and Reaver met for the first time. Interesting? Boring? Well, what you think doesn't matter all that much, this diary isn't meant for entertaining others. Merely as a tool to be rid of these frustrating feelings that are building in my chest.
And that's about it with this story. I could write page after page of what happened afterwards, but it is rather boring, and if you are all thinking it, no, I did not entertain that man in any intimate kind of way. I'd rather be back in that room then do that... maybe. Maybe another time I shall write more adventures in this book, as for now I must attend to my duties. It seems Master Reaver is having a party out in the gardens today for the Queen. I hate his parties. But such is life, or as Master Reaver would say -
C'est le vie.
I should stop now before I say something else 'Reaver-ish'. How disgusting...
TBC
Sorry for the lack of a more exciting first chapter, this was more an intro for Peter. And no, it won't all be based from Peter's diary, next chapter will be in third person. And I apologise if any of the French is wrong, I do not speak it and used online translators, which all seem to be different to each other for some reason. Next chapter will be Reaver's garden party, and the introduction for the Tyrant Queen. Yes, she is a Tyrant, as I find evil characters more interesting to write.
I'm not looking for major critiques at this moment in time, but tip and reviews are always welcome.
Hmmm... anyway, ta ta for now.
Translations:
C'est affreux – It is awful
C'est le vie – Such is life
Voiture - Carriage