Author note: So shoot me. I just had to do a fanfic about that yummy deviant. He's such an amazing, twisted, wonderful character. So yes. I made Lisbet a bit meany and quite spoilt in comparison to my Dragon Age girlies, because it suits her.

And I got her name Lisbet from...well, me, really. My name is Lisbet. It's French. :)

Disclaimer: Only Lady L is mine. Reaver is only mine is my fantasies...

And now, sur le spectacle commence!


With an entirely unladylike huff, Lady Lisbet Whitehart slammed the sewer door shut and stormed off, muttering darkly under her breath.

How dare that Page turn her away! She, daughter of one of the most influential men in Albion! It was scandalous! And her old childhood friend, the Prince, stood by and let it happen!

Lisbet charged past Sir Walter Back angrily, shrugging away his grip as he placed a comforting arm on her shoulder as she stomped away.

"We can't let you help us, Lisbet," the Prince had said, his face full of sympathy.

"And why not?" Lisbet had demanded angrily.

The Prince glanced at Page at then back at Lisbet.

"Lisbet…" he started. "You're too important for us to take you into the revolution. You're an aristocrat, remember. Don't you think you're father would be livid if he knew you were here, talking to the traitors?"

Lisbet put her hands on her hips and glared at both rebels in turn.

"I am not a child. My father makes my decisions, Arthur, as much as Logan makes yours."

The Prince winced at her use of his real name.

She threw her hands up into the air into exasperation.

"But I am so sick and tired of father talking about how I shouldn't follow the 'rebels of Albion' and instead follow like a meek little lamb after Logan. I want passion! I want adventure! I want to overthrow your brother and make Albion better for all!"

Page snorted and Lisbet threw her an tremendously dirty look.

"Why do you want to overthrow Logan so much?" The Prince asked.

Lisbet looked straight at him and saw her best friend from all those years ago. She was embarrassed, she had to admit, to have all those feelings she'd long-ago buried come rushing back.

She smiled, and that smile lit up her face and showed all her deepest feeling for the boy in front of her.

"You were my best friend when I was little, remember? My father and yours would be deep in conversation and we'd sneak off and play 'kick the chicken?"

The Prince smiled at the fond memories.

"I remember."

"I never forgot you, and always stayed loyal. That's partly why I want to help you."

Page then decided to interject.

"What's the other part?"

Lisbet sighed and cast her gaze at the ground, glaring at it as if it had said something distasteful to her.

"I was meant to marry Logan. An arranged marriage, I assure you. Logan, apparently, was thrilled with the idea but I refused. Ten years difference really is too much for me." she paused and her eyes found the Prince's again. "Anyway, as dear Logan once was to me, I want to see the true leader of Albion be seated on the throne. The leader Albion was destined to have."

Lisbet couldn't believe that after such a sincere speech, that infuriating Page still insisted that she couldn't help in the revolution.

"She's too high profile," she had said.

Lisbet let out a cry of fury, startling the guard sleeping on duty nearby. How dare she turn her away like a meddlesome peasant!

The Prince, Avo bless his soul, had whispered in her ear a way for her to become part of the revolution.

"Do quests for the people of Bowerstone. Earn their trust. Do this, and it will help you persuade Page that you're good enough to join the revolution after all."

Honestly! What a load of tosh! Why did she have to prove herself to anyone? She was Lady Lisbet for Avo's sake!

Lisbet groaned and kicked a stone as hard as she could, all thoughts about manners and poise lost in her moment of rage. She felt like she was suffocating with wrath, like she could barely breathe.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Deep breaths.

"Could you be…an adventurer? Could you truly help me?"

Lisbet, gasping, turned towards the voice and was a little surprised to see a young woman standing in a place that had been empty a few seconds before.

"Yes. I'm an adventurer. What do you want?" she snapped, with more ferocity that she'd intended.

The woman stuck out her very pink tongue and tucked her auburn hair behind one ear.

"Well…I have a little job for you to do…" she said and heat stole up her cheeks as she spoke.

Lisbet raised an elegant eyebrow and pursed her lips, intrigued.

"Go on."

The woman blushed.

"Well…um…I want you to get something for me…something of Reaver's. Only because he's sooo hot and sooo dreamy and sooo-"

"No."

The woman blinked, looking startled like a little bird. Her expression was quite amusing, Lisbet thought wryly.

"I'm sorry?"

"So am I."

Lisbet turned on her heel and began to walk away but the woman grabbed hold of the folds on Lisbet's dress.

"Wait! Why won't you help?"

Lisbet whirled around without warning and placed her pistol, Love, on the woman's forehead. A little extreme, I agree, but Lisbet wasn't about to admit this.

"My reasons are none of your business."

She wasn't about to pour her heart out about her love/hate feelings for Reaver to this stranger. She admired the man but also despised him passionately, occasionally in equal measures. Most of the time, hatred won.

"Please! I'll do anything! What do you want in return?" the woman pleaded.

Various thoughts went through Lisbet's mind. She didn't need money, but a generous dose of gold was always healthy. She didn't need fame as she was…

But then it hit her. She did need fame. Or being renowned for helping, anyway.

"If I do this for you, you must promise me to put in a good word to Page about me. Deal?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically. Well, as enthusiastic as she could with a pistol in her face.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed gleefully.

Lisbet rolled her eyes and holstered her pistol in her thigh sheath.

"What's this thing of Reaver's," she spat his name. "you wanted?"

The woman turned beetroot red and fiddled rather irritatingly with a lock of hair.

"Well….I'd like you to get me his…um…underpants. If you please. Used underpants," she said it all in one breath, lightly and then blushed some more.

Lisbet rocked back, utterly and truly dumbfounded. Then she began to laugh. She had a fit of hysterical laughter which was quickly followed by another, hard on the heels of the first.

She doubled over, clutching her stomach as tears poured down her cheeks.

"What? Why are you laughing?"

It was a few minutes before her laughter died down but eventually Lisbet was wiping the tears from her eyes, smiling weakly.

She took a shaky breath.

"Ah, that was funny. You really had me on then. Getting Reaver's underwear! Ha! What a load of tosh!" Lisbet chuckled lightly to herself before she looked properly at the woman's expression. She coughed nervously into her hand.

"You…you weren't serious…were you?"

Truth be told, she dreaded the answer.

The woman nodded her head slowly.

"Do you want to see my house?" she asked suddenly.

Lisbet frowned as her stomach began to tie itself up in a knot. Oh, this wasn't good.

"Why would I want to see your house?"

The woman looked at her drolly as if to state the obvious.

"There's a reason it's called The Shrine, you know."


Ah, I love Benjamina. She makes me laugh so much. Although...I'd probably do the same. Reaver fan-girls unite!

Jusqu'à la prochaine fois, Lady Rebel.