Disclaimer: I do not own Fable, but what wouldn't I give to own Reaver?
Author's Annotation: Thank you very much for the reviews. And Isa, I am so glad you caught that. I was hoping someone was paying enough attention to realize. Please read, enjoy and review. Oh, and there is some adult content near the ending of this chapter. If you don't like that or you aren't old enough, you know the drill. And in case you don't, here it is: Skip It Or Go Read Something Else. I personally don't care if you're underage and read it, I mean, I've been there, but if you don't like it or can't handle it, then you really shouldn't.
Warning: Some adult content ahead.
Chapter Three
And So the Wheel Turns
Sparrow could have laughed aloud when she first laid eyes on Reaver the next morning. She had arrived at the prison at the crack of dawn to shake the Pirate awake. Forced to sleep alone, manacled to a bed in a cell the whole night, his hair was askew, looking somehow lifeless and dull, and the creases in his face and clothes proved he had not had a restful night. He pried open his hazy eyes, thinking for a disoriented moment that she looked different this morning. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid and wound in a coil atop her head. The loose shirt she wore was pure black trimmed with liquid cloth, complemented by tight black trousers and black leather boots that reached to her knees. He shook the distraction away as he remembered his predicament, and the look he gave Sparrow promised severe retribution; instead of being properly intimidated, however, his captor had the audacity to laugh at him.
It serves him right, Sparrow thought. With an attempt at consideration the Thief obviously did not deserve, Sparrow had offered to let him share her chamber the night before. Well, that was a last. The insatiable Pirate had had the gall to suggest that since she had seen to the end of his favorite brothel, that she should offer him her pleasurable company for the night instead. Flushed and irate, she had made other less pleasurable sleeping arrangements for him.
Sparrow gave him time to eat and freshen up before they walked, shackled together at one wrist, down to the boardwalk, where they were met with one of Reaver's own crew. Sparrow highly doubted the man had any idea what was about to happen to him, but she kept her mouth shut, learning that he didn't even speak their language anyway. His hands were shackled behind his back, and he sidled closer to the leading pair as they entered Wraithmarsh.
"Am I to be left unarmed and helpless?" Reaver suddenly complained as the road became soggy and white fog pressed in.
Sparrow looked at him in disbelief. "Do you seriously think I would trust you with a weapon? Besides, you asked me to come along for protection. Now be silent so I can do my job."
Sparrow's senses immediately flared out, seeking information in the eerie silence. Everyone and everything, even the marsh itself, seemed to be holding its breath. Even Reaver remained thankfully silent, but he seemed unimpressed by his surroundings. He had put on a hard mask in place of his normally charming smile; his eyes were hard and as cold as the grave, making her flinch away from them.
The fog was so thick this morning that they could barely see a few feet in front of them. Sparrow and Reaver knew the way by heart, pressing forward in silence. The young pirate with them appeared scared out of his mind, almost squeezing himself between the two Heroes.
At the large stone gate guarding the Shadow Court, Reaver inserted the dark seal into the grooves like a key, turning it three times before an audible click pierced the silence. The three of them forced the doors open. Sparrow shivered as she got her first look at the Shadow halls in a decade. Nothing had changed. She could detect no sign of danger, but remained alert, prepared for an ambush.
Reaver did not speak a word; he could feel an invisible weight pressing down on him, dampening out his soul. He felt this every time he came to pay his debt. He knew it to be the weight of his past, of Oakvale, but he refused to think of it. That wasn't him. He steeled himself against the weight, holding his regal head high, leading his sacrifice forward with no thought of him as more than an object. I am Reaver.
At the entrance to the cavernous chamber where the debt would be paid, Sparrow stopped their progress long enough to unshackle the Pirate. Reaver gave a her a look that suggested puzzlement.
"Take him in by yourself. I'll wait for you here."
Nodding brusquely, he took the sacrifice by the upper arm, dragging it forcibly into the Court, his jaw clenched in determination.
Sparrow sighed, feeling a heavy weight pressing down upon her. This wasn't right, but... a deal was a deal. Soon Reaver would be gone, and she could get back to her life. Positioning herself well to the side of the archway, she aimed her pistol and waited for the Thief to return. Strange, but she couldn't hear anything going on in the inner chamber. What was happening?
A sudden surge of power and a high scream answered her question. She didn't have to wait long before a withered form came running wildly out of the Court, sobs and screams echoing off the cavernous halls. He took no notice of her as he ran past, his screams fading into the darkness. She mentally brushed him aside, ignoring the twinge in her heart, and waited. Dignified footsteps could be heard, and then Reaver stepped through the archway.
His sacrifice had fulfilled its purpose. Reaver looked almost as young as she, and as fair as any maiden. The creases in his skin had vanished, and his hair was sleek and smooth once more, the golden brown so rich it seemed to shine in the darkness. His blue-green eyes immediately sought hers. He made no comment, walking over to her, though her pistol was still leveled with his chest. He pushed it aside, pulling her closer. She let him, shocked by his boldness and forgetting for a moment why she needed to be so cautious with him. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly while he took her chin between his finger and thumb, his sharp gaze piercing her. She sucked in her breath, unable to look away from his hard, soulless eyes. They burned her, drained her, made her unable to think... unable to resist. Purposefully, he lowered his lips, ever so slowly, until gently they pressed to hers, feathering lightly over them, slowly increasing the pressure until hers parted only slightly. He quickly pressed his advantage, tasting her lips with the tip of his tongue, then delving deeper, until hers was intertwined with his, dancing and caressing.
Clink.
Sparrow jerked out of his arms in a panic, then saw his own hand clasped about the manacle attaching his wrist to hers.
"My business is finished here," he breathed huskily. "Shall we get out of this wretched place?"
Dizzily she nodded and took the lead out into the fen.
Sparrow beamed with alleviation as they crested the final hill that left Wraithmarsh and looked over Bloodstone.
"We made it," she breathed, taking a near giddy step towards civilization. Without warning, she felt her body abruptly jerked to the left. Losing her balance, she had no choice but to fall freely. A heavy chain caught her round the throat, and hard fingers wrapped around her right hand, and over her trigger finger, raising the business end of the pistol to her head.
"Reaver!" she shrieked, desperate to struggle, but realizing he had caught her off guard and she was in a possibly lethal situation.
"Now, now, Sparrow, no need to fret," he soothed. "Just play nice and there will be no need for anymore... unpleasantness." He locked her in his arms more securely. "You are going to be my insurance out of here. We're going to walk into town, demand that my Dragonstomper and Reaver II be restored to me, and board my ship. And you are going to do this all without a fuss, understand?"
"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth. Reaver smiled behind her and together they entered Bloodstone, taking slow, calculated steps. The first people on the boardwalk to notice them set out to panic, but at Reaver's insistence, Sparrow instructed them to go inside the nearest store or home and lock the doors until this was over. They obeyed her instructions, and the pair reached his ship without incident. The guards posted were alarmed to see their Mayor in peril, but again she spoke soothingly, instructing them to retrieve the Pirate's gun and return with haste. One man took off at a run, and Reaver turned to the remaining guards.
"Now, I demand you step away from my ship," he drawled silkily. "Once the lad has returned my precious Dragonstomper, we will be on our way."
"Not until you release the Mayor," one of the men protested.
Aiming between his brows, he was ready to fire when Sparrow spoke. "Jackson, don't get smart with him. Just follow my orders and do as the Pirate says."
Defeated, they backed away. As they reached the opposite side of the cobbled road the guard returned, bearing the Pirate's pistol. Sedgewick and Daniels were hot on his heels.
"Ye filthy bastard, release her!" Daniels roared at the Thief.
"Daniels, please stand down," Sparrow ordered swiftly when she felt the Pirate start to raise her pistol again.
Daniels didn't seem to hear her, so fixed was he on Reaver, who smiled patronizingly back at him. "What man threatens a woman? Take your fight up with me, Pirate King."
Without hesitation, Reaver removed the pistol from her throat and squeezed the trigger once, and Daniels fell to his knees on the cobblestones, grasping his right shoulder in agony as bright red blood splattered across the ground.
"You soulless son of a whore, that was a cheap shot," Daniels snarled.
Reaver merely shrugged. He hadn't meant to miss, but Sparrow had jerked her arm at the last second, ruining his impeccable aim. Restraining her tighter as she attempted to struggle, he retrained the pistol on her as he smiled at the bleeding man. "All is fair, in love and war." Reaver turned to the guard with his grubby mitts clutching the Pirate's precious gun. "Bring that to your beloved Mayor. Nice and slow now. We don't want any more accidents, do we? Sparrow, put out your hand."
The guard inched forward, holding her gaze. She cautioned him, praying he wouldn't try to be brave and do something stupid. But the exchange was made without incident. Soon the two of them were backing down the dock and up the gangplank. He shouted a demand that the anchor be raised and they set sail immediately. "I will be keeping your Mayor as insurance that you don't pursue us. If I tire of her, perhaps I will return her to you," he added with a wink at Daniels, who cursed loudly and jumped to his feet. Holding his bleeding shoulder, he began to chase after the ship, but the tide was already pulling them out.
Still held in Reaver's arms, Sparrow watched as her town grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing altogether in the encroaching darkness. Then she slowly became aware of the men working on the ship around her, then of the Pirate holding her closer than was still necessary. Dimly, she wondered what he thought she would do if he released her. Run away? Indeed, right into the frigid water, miles out to sea. Or not.
With irritation she turned to her captor, suddenly realizing their roles were reverse. Acutely aware of him leering down at her, she suddenly felt defensive and tried to jerk out his arms. His hold merely tightened. "What is the meaning of this, Pirate King?" she demanded furiously. "You take me hostage and kidnap me from my home? After I fulfilled my promise and had every intention of letting you go on your way? Exactly what is going on in that head of yours?"
Reaver merely smiled, clearly pleased with himself as she tallied his misdeeds. "You took me prisoner," he commented, "and locked me away in your jail. I'd say turn about is fair play. Perhaps I should keep you in the brig overnight."
She continued to glared at him, but did not reply. His lips curved into a smile. "Perhaps you should have been paying more attention. You might not be in this mess. Next time I recommend not getting so... distracted."
Cheeks reddened, she opened her mouth to retort, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "Now now, not another word or I shall happily gag and shackle you." Her mouth snapped shut and his eyes twinkled vindictively. "Good little Sparrow." With one hand he reached into her pocket, retrieving her key ring and unlocking their shackles, holding on to them for some later use. Grasping her upper arm, he dragged her to his cabin at the stern end of the ship, roughly tossing her inside the door. "Wait here for me," he ordered. "Unless you have a mind to get better acquainted with my crew," he added, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment. Her glare intensified, letting him know that whatever he was thinking, it wasn't happening.
Once the door was shut and locked, she turned and examined her surroundings. At first, she considered she might be in the wrong room. Or on the wrong ship. This room was exactly what one would expect of a sea captain, with comfortable leather chairs, map tables, and a desk filled with charts and papers. A compass and a globe of the world dominated the center of the room.
On the opposite side of the room was a wooden door. Hesitantly, glancing around as though afraid to be caught, she moved closer to it. Cracking it open ever so slightly, she gasped as the interior was revealed to her. This was obviously Reaver's inner cabin, as it had his unique, strong personality stamped all over it. It was dominated by boisterous shades of red, black, and gold. The walls were lined with cabinets that were probably priceless, made from an exotic wood that was the same hue and intensity of burning fire and inlaid with gold, and the wooden floor was covered with a thick, plush rug in coal black, with fur so thick her feet sank into it. A large bed took over the far corner, and was covered with black sheets, but most decadent of all was an airy flame-silk canopy that covered the top, with silk panels that would conceal the interior once let loose from their cords. But even then, the fabric was sheer and would only partially hide its occupants. Worse still, a full length mirror lined the wall opposite the bed, obviously placed there for the Pirate to admire his own beauty upon waking.
With a red blush on her cheeks, Sparrow spun around to leave, only to walk straight into something hard. Bouncing back, she peered up and into Reaver's curious eyes.
"I see you're admiring my bed," he said with a sly grin. "Care to try it out?"
She glowered up at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't get any ideas. Just because you're holding me captive doesn't mean I intend to make this easy or fun for you. Just how long do you plan to hold me here?" she asked, then interrupted. "Oh yes, I remember, until you tire of me," she scoffed.
His smile seemed to reach the corners his dark eyes as they gazed at her unblinkingly. "Do not fear, my little Sparrow, I shall not be putting you aside anytime soon."
"So how long? Do you have a destination in mind, or are we drifting about rudderless?" she demanded again.
He sighed and moved towards a large wardrobe cut from ebony. He opened it and removed his coat, hanging it with care inside. "I think we may return to Samarkand. As I no longer have a refuge in Bloodstone, I must seek out a new one." He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a basket before turning to her. "Sounds like a grand adventure, wouldn't you agree?"
Sparrow grit her teeth, speaking to him in piecemeal as though he were a simpleton. "No, Pirate, it does not. I have issues to see to back home. If you drop me off at the nearest port I can make my way back, and I won't send my ships chasing you down like the dog you are."
His grin was dark, something she had yet to see in Reaver. She had seen him arrogant, and she knew he was a backstabbing man-whore, but she had never seen a look on him like the one he was giving her now. It was as though apart of the Shadow Court had come back with him, was staring out at her through his eyes. A small part, but enough to send a chill up her spine.
He stood, graceful and sleek, his hands flashing out to pull her toward him. She landed against his bare chest, gasping as she tried to pull away. He held her close, Shadows swirling in his eyes and a twisted curve in his perfect lips.
"My little Sparrow, do try to understand, I won't be releasing you until I see fit. You are my captive now," he whispered, trailing his finger along her cheek. "My prisoner. You are not to go anywhere without me. It is not as if I could trust any of my men to watch over you," he mocked with a smirk. She knew he was serious, but for much different reasons than she had been.
"Reaver, please be reasonable. You don't need me anymore, you're free and can sail off into the great blue yonder for another decade before we need to face each other again," she protested, trying to be the voice of rationality. It was a struggle to keep her voice firm, but she couldn't afford to be losing her head.
The Pirate shook his head solemnly. "No, Sparrow," he murmured, almost distractedly, burying his face in her hair. He leisurely tugged at her braid, smoothing it out until her hair flowed in wavy locks down to her thighs. His lips found hers, taking from her almost drunkenly. This was nothing like before. His kiss was hot and demanding, leaving her breathless, and almost spineless. Heat flowed through her, spreading along her limbs. Her arms tingled as he lifted them around his neck.
To her shock and despair, her body answered his; breathy moans spilled from her lips as her body was pressed flush with his, arching into him. Steering her toward the soft bedding, her urged her down, coming down atop her and sealing her lips with his again. He didn't want to think. He didn't want her thinking. It had been a too long since he'd had a woman, and a dark madness inside him was urging him on, until he felt he'd die if he didn't feel her legs around him.
Encircling each knee, he parted her legs and pulled them up high. Her eyes widened in alarm when she felt him through their clothes, hard and demanding, and she struggled against the vulnerable position, groaning in denial as a burning heat spread through her. Reason screamed in her mind at last, and she attempted to shove him away. "Don't do this," she gasped, tearing her lips from his.
Reaver paused, puzzled by the slight fear in her voice. Looking through the haze of need her searched her eyes. "Where is my brave little adventuress..." he mused, seemingly to himself. "She was never afraid of me."
Sparrow shook her head. "I am not afraid of you, Pirate," she growled menacingly. "Its just... I can't do this with you."
His expression cleared, but in its place was a twisted smile. "If you don't want to sleep in my bed, I'm sure I can make other arrangements for you." She stared at him, wondering if he was serious. But she didn't care right now. She was not scared of this boy trapped in the body of a never aging man, and any arrangement was better than this, she told herself fiercely.
"Anything would be preferable," she replied haughtily. Reaver smiled again and shrugged. In one motion he stood, dragging her up with him and tossing her over his shoulder. Ignoring her protests and kicks, he walked through his outer cabin, pausing only to grab his scarlet cloak off the back of a chair. He continued on until she felt the cool breeze of the ocean. He dropped her beside the mainmast and enveloped her securely in his cloak. Sparrow found both of her wrists held securely by a crewman. She glared at Reaver venomously as he tied the end of the rope around one wrist, then walked around the mast and tied the other wrist. As a finishing touch he walked around her several times, making sure she was held securely. The crewman departed and returned to their duties.
"This should do nicely," he commented, admiring his own handiwork.
"Sod off, Pirate," she growled. He took her chin between his fingers and forced her to look at him.
"Tsk, tsk," he murmured, tracing her lips with the pad of his thumb. "This could have been so much easier on both of us if you would have played nice. Things were going along so well. Now you've left me like this," he complained, stroking himself lewdly.
"Like I said, I'm not going to make this easy for you. You may as well just send me home."
He smiled at the challenge in her voice. "I can make this hard on you, too, Sparrow," he breathed, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, locking her in place even as his hand released her chin, trailing down her throat and over the curve of her shoulder. "If you'd like to play that game, it can be very fun, and two can play." A cry erupted from her throat as she felt his fingers sharply pinch her nipple through the thin material of her shirt, twisting it slightly before cupping her full breast in his hand, kneading and caressing, and his other hand slid up from her waist to assault the other. She held his gaze, somehow fearing that looking away would mean backing down from her captor, her adversary.
Heat pooled low in her belly, but she did her best to deny it. She couldn't stand for Reaver to know he was effecting her, but the satisfaction in his eyes told her he knew better. Unerringly, his hand skimmed lower, sliding between her clenched thighs and cupping her through her clothes. He moaned deep in his throat as he felt the heat radiating through the fabric into his hand. On age-old instinct, he began to grind the heel of his palm into her, pleasure blossoming through him as he heard her breath hitch and he felt her tremble. He held her gaze, savoring the reddening of her cheeks as her pupils doubled in size. A deep moan escaped her swollen lips, and he persisted, grinding harder until her hips were bucking helplessly in rhythm with his hand.
"Please..." she pleaded, hating the way her voice shook. "Please...please don-"
He paused, but only long enough to slip his hand inside her trousers; he groaned in ecstasy when he felt the damp heat pouring from her and slid a finger between her folds to caress her swollen nub. Her hips bucked forcefully at his first touch, making contact with his. A gasp wrenched itself from both their throats and his hips rocked against hers as he lost himself to need. Fighting to take hold of himself, he continued to hold her gaze, watching every spasm of pleasure on her face as he mercilessly stroked her, teasing her until she was riding his fingers helplessly, fighting and failing to hold back her voice as her whimpers and moans grew louder. She knew anyone on deck was able to hear her. It was mortifying, but she couldn't stop it. She couldn't stop him. She wound tighter and tighter, wet heat coating his fingers and her thighs, proving to him that he had her where he wanted her. Finally, she tried to look away, to conceal her humiliation, but he threaded his free hand through her hair, forcing her to face him. Her lips quivered as she felt the pressure building, getting tighter until she thought it might kill her.
He watched her closely, pushing her higher and higher, until her body began to shake against him and her moans became cries. And then, without warning, he stopped, pulling himself away from her as he watched the rapture fade quickly from her eyes to be replaced by panic, and then anger. He watched her battle with her pride, wanting to beg him to continue, but unable to let herself do it. With a sinful smile he licked his fingers.
"Mmm, you do taste lovely, my dear Sparrow. Perhaps tomorrow night, if you are more amenable, we shall continue this." Turning on one heel, he walked away, intent of pulling one or more of his crew out of their beds to join his.
"You bastard!" she snarled after him. "I hate you!"
A chuckle was the only reply she got.
Author's Sidethought: Yeah, I figure after something like that, she deserved to scream and swear at him.
