Disclaimer: Fable 3, Reaver and all other character and game plotlines belong to Lionhead

My Queen is my own, and so is this story.

A/N: Whew, didn't think I'd get this one out so early. But, when the mood strikes, you just can't fight it! I like this chapter, and it is probably the longest chapter I have ever written for either of my stories. Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoy!

Update 15/6/2013: As I wish to pick up this story and become more familiar with it, I am going back to edit and tweak previous chapters.


Here we go again

We're sick like animals

We play pretend

You're just a cannibal

And I'm afraid I wont get out alive

No I wont sleep tonight

Animal ~ Neon Trees

By mid-afternoon the next week, news had already spread all throughout Bowerstone of the sure-to-be grand Celebration Ball to be hosted and funded by Reaver Industries. Much to the Queen's frustration, rumors as to the relationship between the monarch and the Industrialist had also begun to circulate as well.

"They are saying what!" If not for the stubborn tailor gripping at her feet, the Queen would surely have leapt from the raised platform where she now stands. They had been gathering the final measurements for her gown since dawn, her patience already waning to the point of non-existence.

"Please, my lady, calm yourself!" Jasper's elderly hands gently grasp the Queen's, petting them in what he hopes will be a soothing manner. The Queen is not swayed, her fierce glance locking on the frail, easily kick-able, man now pinning the hemline.

"Jasper, how am I supposed to be anything but alarmed? They are saying that I am involvedwith that snake of a man!" Jasper notices the faint blue will lines now pulsing across the Queen's flesh, thankful that both her weapons and gauntlets are safely locked away in the sanctuary.

"It's only a rumor your majesty, you mustn't let it get to you. Why, they could say the same thing of us if they pleased!"

"That would be a much more agreeable lie, my friend." The Queen sighs. Of all the nonsensical, absurd…nonsense! Had she not proven to her people just what kind of person she is? Truly, a kind, pure hearted Queen such as the one she hoped she portrays would never associate herself romantically with a man such as Reaver. Whispers of the Queens reasons for not yet having chosen a husband had always made their way back to her ears. But not even the one about her possibly preferring other females had been this troubling!

"Would it be horribly rude of me to cancel the party just two days before it's occurrence?" The Queen stares hopefully down at her lifetime caretaker, his warm smile only slightly reassuring. He shakes his head while chuckling at the Queen lightly.

"I'm afraid so. The kingdom is already quite in an uproar. It is said that Reaver has even extended his invitations to that of the lesser classes."

Now that is a surprise. If the Queen wasn't so sure that Reaver does not have a soul, she might have begun to entertain the idea that maybe he wasn't so vile.

It disturbs the Queen to be focusing so much of her thoughts on the man, deciding instead to shift her attention to the elaborate dress now entering it's final stages of completion. The floor length mirror opposite her allows a full view of every intricate pattern the tailors had labored over these past few days.

Gold embroidery snakes its way all across her abdomen, meeting at the point of a plunging deep V neckline. The sleeves stop just beneath her shoulders, and her hands are covered by lace gloves that reach an inch below her wrists, all which allow a generous view of her porcelain skin. The hem of her dress flares out in a manner that reminds her of her youth as a Princess. Much too elegant for the task of running within the sewers and swamps that her adventures typically led to. Above all, the color of her gown is most striking. It is sure to cause a stir among the guests, and more importantly, the host.

The Queen has chosen a stark black for the occasion, separating herself drastically from the color lustful nobles, and most certainly the red clad Reaver.

"Oh Carvier, this dress is just divine! Be sure to thank your staff on my behalf, as well as adding a hefty bonus to their pay." The tailor beams up at the Queen. He would be sure to spread her praises of his work all throughout the town, though, not so much including the second part of her requests. He is a business man after all.

"Anything for you my Queen, though, I do still believe your beauty would be even more stunning with some purples…maybe even a blue or red!"

"No thank you Carvier, the gold and black is just perfect." The Queen steps down gracefully, her height still much greater than that of either Jasper or the tailor. She glances over to the door leading out to the balcony. A slight breeze is blowing at the curtains, seeming too tempting after such a long day of playing mannequin.

"Jasper, please escort our guest to the treasury for his payment. I wish to be alone for a moment."

"Of course your majesty." Both Jasper and Carvier bow out to the Queen, making their leave without even a moments hesitation.

Pinching up her dress at the leg, the Queen makes her way over to the balcony and allows the full landscape of her city coming into view. The light wind whips her long hair against her cheeks playfully, her hands finding the cement railing as she rests lazily upon it. Calm winds are so rare in Albion these days. It is a result most likely relating to the unimaginable evil slowly creeping its way to the lands. A chill shoots up the Queen's spine in remembrance of her first encounter with The Darkness, the haunting voice still sickeningly present in her nightmares. Many a night had she woken up, screaming for Walter, clawing at her own skin as if the tar like substance is still upon her.

The sound of a carriage against cobblestone shakes the Queen from the less than favorable memories, her eyes dropping to the new arrival now approaching the castle steps. The double R's branded against the vehicle's side reveals any attempt of secrecy for the owner's identity, Reaver's iconic top hat and fur lined suit appearing a second after it comes to a halt.

"Of course." The Queen groans beneath her breath, disappearing into her bedroom once more.


Reaver scowls as he steps from his carriage. It is far too bright this day for his liking, his gloved hand reaching up to pull the dark tinted goggles over his eyes.

"Ah, much better."

"Mr. Reaver, sir, the royal guard informs us that due to your, um…unannounced arrival, Her Majesty the Queen will be unable to greet you in person." The young female servant does not dare to look Reaver in the eye. Having served him now for almost a year, she knows full well the consequences of such foolish actions.

"Oh? What a pity." Reaver taps his chin thoughtfully while letting his gaze drift up to the massive castle wall. Just above him a dark shadow catches his eye, the flash of a slender brunette on the highest balcony turning and vanishing into the castle not escaping his notice. The instincts in his blood alert him to the presence of another Hero nearby, a sly grin creeping its way onto his lips.

"Well!" Reaver claps his hand, the petite servant nearly fainting in shock, "I guess I will just have to show myself in then. Do be a love and, let's just keep it between us, hush hush. I believe the Queen so does love surprises." He winks at the blonde, rapping her on the behind roughly before leaping from the top carriage step and walking jubilantly towards the castle entrance.


It takes the Queen more than ten minutes to fully undress from that elaborate garment, her naked form emerging from behind the dressing screen. Her hair hangs free from it's usual constraints and frames her heart shaped face, loose curls reaching down to just below her breasts. She hums a tune, sung by her mother almost every night before she was put to bed.

Down by the reeds

A twisted path leads

To Banshee's who breathe out

A cold winters breeze

Nobody knows

Nobody sees

The sirens of Oakvale

Down by the reeds

It is a song, her mother had said, that was taught to her by one of her most loyal companions, and dearest of friends. Faint memories of a large red-headed woman sometimes accompanied the Queen's thoughts whenever she catches herself singing that song. As best as she can remember the woman had always been very kind, if a bit intimidating.

The Queen reaches for the silk robe draped across a lounge chair and slips it over her shoulders. Just as she moves to tie the sash, the door to her bedroom bursts open. Instinctively, the Queen rolls with trained agility, removing a decorative knights sword from its sheath and positioning herself to face the intruder.

"Good afternoon my dear! Such a beautiful day to be cooped up in one's room, don't you think? Although, now that I think about it, an afternoon in the bedroom of one such as you does begin to sound rather appealing." Reaver grins wickedly at the crouching Queen, appearing uncaring as to the gleaming sword pointed threateningly in his general direction. He kicks the doors shut behind him, strolling into the room casually while removing his hat and jacket.

"Reaver, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised." The Queen regains her composure, still clutching the decorative sword with one hand. The other grips tightly at her naval, the only thing holding her robe closed at the moment. In her haste the sash had, unbeknownst to the Queen, entangled itself in the edges of the armored statue.

"Well darling, when your delightful guards informed me of your unavailability, I became most concerned. Naturally, I found it most urgent to come, investigate." Reaver's directs his gaze to the Queen's current state of undress. Instantly, images of her battle toned body entwined with his own fills Reaver's thoughts, stroking the flames of his desire. Screams of ecstasy can almost be heard purring from her luscious lips, as well as the continuous praise of his skill as a lover and most gifted anatomy.

"Reaver?" The Queen moves a step back from the fast approaching man, familiar to the look of lust and hunger burning beneath his glare. She raises her sword only to have Reaver knock it away thoughtlessly with his cane. Both objects clatter to the floor, the Queen now trapped between the stone wall and Reaver.

"Did I mention," Reaver cranes his head down to rest in the crook of her neck, his arms entrapping her on both sides, "How ravishing you look in that robe?"

"I am not one of your whores Reaver," The Queen shoves at his chest, forcing him back as she regards him with disgust, "I will not be swayed, nor seduced, by your venomous charms."

Reaver sighs, brushing a loose strand of black hair away from his eyes, still undeterred by the Queen's rejection.

"Ah, very well. Play hard to get, it will only make my victory all the sweeter, my little mouse." Reaver turns from the Queen, his hand snatching the missing sash from the statue and untangling it in one fluid movement. He hands it back to the Queen, eyeing him skeptically as she accepts. As she assures that her nudity will remain hidden, Reaver moves towards the piano adjacent to her bed. A high pitched note rings out across the room as he lays a single finger on a single key, the sound dying out just as he turns to glance at the Queen once more.

"I bet you wondering, just what reason could possibly drive me to seek you out this day."

"Besides trying to bed me?"

Reaver chuckles lightly, hitting the next note just as violently as the first.

"Believe me, my Queen. If I really wanted you, I would have you." The Queen is unsure as to how she should take that comment, knowing full well that Reaver, more often than not, just prefers to toy with her.

"So then, why are you here Reaver? Surely anything concerning the party would have been sent with one of your servants." The Queen harbors sincere regret for any employed under the service of Reaver. She makes sure to shower them with many luxuries as soon as they had enter her premises. She is also careful as to not let any of those luxuries be known to Reaver for the fear of his retaliation against them.

"True enough. I come here today to see if you have any new information for me, my Queen. Any requests? Demands?" Reaver pauses, hitting the next note off key, "Change of plans?"

The Queen bites her lip, silently praising herself for having Jasper remove the dress from her quarters just moments ago to make any last minute touch ups. After all, Reaver still believes that she will be matching her ensemble to his. The last nail in the coffin of their rumored affair.

"I assume it would be too much to ask that you would not be in attendance."

Reaver laughs obnoxiously once more and plays three notes to accent the sound.

"Beauty and humor, all in one perfect package. My dear, you truly are a delight!" Reaver sits on the bench to the piano, his fingers coming to life to dance across the keys. An upbeat tune soon engulfs the room, the Queen finding herself involuntarily tapping her foot. He is making himself much to comfortable for her liking, his presence undesirable to begin with. After a few minutes of music the Queen approaches Reaver from behind, her delicate hand resting against the glossy ebony surface of the instrument.

"If that is all Reaver, I-"

"That tune you were humming before," Slowly Reaver begins playing the tune of her mother's lullaby flawlessly, the Queen's mouth parting in surprise, "Where did you learn such a song? I find myself curiously familiar with it, yet I have no recollection of exactly what from"

The Queen is curious as well, unaware of any other beside her mother and the masculine woman who knew the tune. Reaver has made it aware that he acquires some familiarity with her mother. Exactly how much, she is not sure, but it is simply too hard to believe that she could possibly pass along such a treasured thing so freely.

"It…it was a song of my mother's, taught to her by a dear friend. She sang it to me each night," The Queen falls onto the bench along with Reaver, watching his hands move elegantly over the ivory teeth, "It is one of the many tales of Oakvale."

Reaver jumps back as if electrocuted, his sudden movements catching the Queen off guard and causing the bench to topple over. She hits the ground with a dull 'thud', the bench pinning her robe and revealing her leg bare up to the thigh. She doesn't notice however, her brown eyes stuck on Reaver towering over her, his expression unreadable and his gaze not meeting hers.

"Reaver?"

Without any offer of assistance or explanation to the fallen woman, Reaver makes a quick exit. In his haste he barely remembers to snatch his hat and jacket near the door.

The Queen remains on the floor for a time, silent, staring at the door Reaver so hurriedly escaped from. She somewhat expects him to pop his head back in, grinning sheepishly and making some remark about her "lovely legs" or accusing her of being clumsy.

After a few more moments of neither occurring the Queen pulls herself up, placing the bench back in its previous position and returning to what she had been trying to accomplish before that retched man even arrived.

A long, hot bath is exactly what the Queen needs after all that madness.

As she begins to move towards the bathing room, a slight shine catches her eye on the floor. She realizes that in his haste, Reaver forgot his cane of all things. As far as she can remember, she had never seen the man without it.

"How odd…"

The Queen ponders this for a moment, reaching down and picking up the polished object and balancing it between her fingers. It is surprisingly light and crafted from a material unrecognizable to her eyes. A brilliant thought pops into her mind as she twirls it playfully.

The Queen has just acquired something more valuable than even the Aurorian diamond itself.

Leverage.