I do not own fable
Fourteen Years Later
The usual sounds of Bowerstone Industrial waking up aroused Julia from her slumber. She got off her mat she called a bed and stretched. Her small loft above the warehouse contained the bare minimum. She moved to the shard of mirror and looked at herself. Her hair had grown long enough that she could pull it back into a short ponytail with small wisps framing her thin face; she would need to cut it again soon. She touched the scar that ran down the left side of her face and the fresh bruises from yesterday's tousle as she splashed water on her face to wake herself up.
Julia removed her night shirt and pulled on her trousers and socks. She reached for the band and wrapped her chest before she put on her shirt. She looked down at herself; she was skinny, no curves at all. She looked much younger than nineteen and much less feminine than the normal woman her age. After one last look to make sure her hair was hidden by her hat, she pulled on her coat and left her loft.
The streets of Bowerstone industrial were in full swing when she entered the streets. It was still too early for drunks to be wandering the streets, but the prostitutes were moving to their desired alley ways, waiting for customers. Julia moved quickly, trying not to attract attention. She knew she needed to find breakfast, but she would need to find a new bakery to steel from. She was caught at her old target the day before and received a thorough beating by guards. She hadn't eaten the rest of the day, and her stomach growled loudly at the realization. This wasn't a new feeling for Julia. Ever since she was dumped on the streets at five, she hadn't had a full week where she received three square meals a day. The result was a very slight body, despite her height of 5 feet 10 inches. This also gave her a masculine look; both a blessing and a curse.
"Oye! Smithy! Where ya headed?" A voice behind Julia made her jump. She had just located her target, a small food stand with an apple sitting on the edge of the stand, an easy target. She turned around to see Oliver, another boy her age who lived on the streets. Oliver was a part of the Industry Gang; a band of homeless boys who ran together, causing a problem for the police ever since their creation. Oliver kept trying to get Julia to join ever since he joined, which was right after the two of them had been fired from the factory. The thug life was the wrong place for Julia, for it would be too easy for them to find out her real gender. In Bowerstone Industrial, it was dangerous for a young, single woman to roam the streets.
"Can I help ye Oliver?" she sighed, annoyed at his timing.
"Yeah actually, Boss sent me 'cause he needs money. And I an't good at pickin pockets," Oliver responded, eyeing her.
Julia saw his look and realized his intentions. "Oh no, Oliver, I'ma tryn ta break that 'abit," she said, backing away from him.
"Right," he didn't buy it, and moved closer to her. "I ju' saw ye goin for that apple there. Ya can' lie ta me Willy. Now c'mon! It'll be easier than the last time an' it'll go as planned! I swears it!"
She paused, I could probably get some extra for meself, then I can buy food like a respectable person. "Deal." They shook and ran off down the alley.
"It's just down 'ere." Oliver pointed, "It's the bard o'er there. 'e's been raken in some coins and the boss thinks 'e needs to pay up for playin on our turf." The bard had a box in front of him, overflowing with money. He was good, and Julia felt bad for stealing from him. "Now," Oliver's voice jogged her from her thoughts. "I'm gonna provide the distraction, and you're gonna grab the box. Got it?"
"Yup, let's jus' get it o'er with," Julia responded.
Oliver went first and struck conversation with the bard. Julia crept behind them, out of sight and began to reach for the box. Her fingers almost were there when she heard a voice whisper in her ear, "is that your money lad?" Oliver bolted, knowing that they had been caught by the look on Julia's face.
The bard looked down at Julia and yelled, "Oi! What d'ya think you're doing?"
Before Julia could follow though, a hand gripped her collar, holding her there. "You're going to come with me, unless you want me to call the guards," it said, dragging her away.
"Ge'roff me!" Julia struggled against the hand, but he was strong and she hadn't eaten in a while, so she lacked strength. She kept fighting as the hand kept dragging her away towards a pub. Oh God, she thought, he's gonna drag me in the alley and kill me. I swear I'll rat Oliver out an' 'e'll burn in hell with me!
Before they reached the pub however, the hand whipped her around so she was looking into the eyes of an old man. He was plump, with caring deep blue eyes. He didn't look like he was going to kill her. There was something about him that reminded her of something from long ago, almost as if from a dream.
"Now," the old man said, "I need you to come into the pub with me quietly; do not cause a scene alright?"
"An' if I refuse ya ol' man?" Julia said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, not moving.
"Then I'll have to do it by force, which I don't want to do," he responded. He sighed, "please; let's just be civil with this alright?"
"Well, since ya said please, an' I can' say I 'ear that all too often," Julia said, storming into the pub, the old man hurrying behind her.
Julia entered the warmth of the pub and began to head for a table in the corner, but the old man touched her shoulder, "I actually got a private room, if you don't mind." Julia jerked her shoulder out from his grip and moved to the room off to the side.
She entered the room and saw another old man sitting at the table, holding un-touched ale. The other man was dressed in a nice blue suit. He looked like what Julia imagined a server for an upper class family would have. What're they called again? Oh righ'! Butler. He looked up when she walked in and stood up, holding a hand to his heart in disbelief. She stood, frozen in the room, while the fat man closed the door and stood by the butler.
"She's so grown up!" the second man breathed to the first.
"She looks just like her father, but she has her mother's lips," the other man whispered.
"Wha's goin on?" Julia asked finally. How do they know I'ma lass?
The first one stepped forward, the one who had caught her in the square, "It's good to see you again Princess Julia. Remember me? It's Sir Walter Beck. And it's time for you to claim your rightful place on the throne. This land needs a revolution. And you are going to lead it."
