I don't own Fable 3 – Lionhead Studios and Microsoft does. Based on the 2010 game.
Rated M for explicit adult content.
Princess Lara doesn't know if she can be the Hero Albion needs, but when she meets Major Swift, everything changes. She may or may not be a Hero, but she realises how very much a woman she is. Swift realises too, that he is a man as well as a soldier. Can these two people come together in love despite the obstacles that face them?
Love is not Hollow
Chapter 3
When Lara awoke again it was morning. She sat up and carefully stretched. She was alone in the tent, but a bucket filled with water, soap, and a wash cloth was beside her bed. Also, her clothing had been cleaned and mended as much as possible and lay across the foot of the cot.
Lara smiled. Obviously Walter and the Major wanted to give her privacy and allow her to decide when she was ready to emerge from the tent.
She felt much better. She was able to remove some of her bandages, as she healed quickly, but left the ones on her hands so that she could insist on shooting lessons right away and not injure them again. She washed her face and body as best she could and dressed. It was good to be up and about again. Most people in her condition would have been bed-ridden far longer than she, but she was fortunate to have her mother's blood flowing through her veins to heal her quickly.
Just as the budding Hero was about to open the tent flap she heard Walter and Jack Swift speaking.
"So, have you seen Daisy lately?"
"Ah...Daisy?"
"Yes, Daisy! Don't just gape at me, man, you know well who I mean!" Walter barked good-naturedly.
"Oh...ah, well, I'm not the type to kiss and tell," Swift replied. "That would be most ungentlemanly behaviour."
"So, in other words," Walter pressed, "you haven't seen her."
"Uh...no, not for quite some time."
Lara had heard enough. She sat on the edge of the cot and pressed her hands over her ears.
Why was she suddenly so filled with anger, jealousy, and even despair? The mere thought that Jack Swift was courting another woman was almost more than she could bear! Yet...why did she feel that she held any claim over his heart? After all, they had just met.
Lara hummed to drown out whatever words the two men continued to speak and allowed her now tortured mind to run wild.
She knew her own mind and her heart. She knew that she...no. No! She simply knew that Swift was a man she could...no!
Damnation! Yes, she could. She knew it. Her very soul knew it. She did not need time or courting or any of the pleasantries both genuine and false to know her own heart.
But he wasn't hers. He wasn't even hers to even hope for. Even if he was, he would likely spout that nonsense about his age or being a 'cast-off' again.
Lara allowed anger to sweep over her. This was how she protected herself. It was, perhaps, childish, but anger would allow her to assuage her wounded pride even as she had to be in the company of a man she could never have.
Resolutely she stood and strode to the tent flap. She opened it and stepped outside.
"Lara!" Walter cried out with a broad grin. "Good morning!"
"My dear, how are you feeling?" Jack...no, Major Swift asked her. He stretched out his hands and clasped hers.
Lara swallowed in sudden nervousness as her heart fluttered at this contact.
"I'm...fine. Thank you, Walter, and thank you, Major. But I'm going for some tea and bread now."
Lara pulled her hands from Swift's and began to walk away.
"Wait!" Swift said, following her, Walter on his heels. "Lara, whatever is the matter? Are you ill?"
She stopped and turned to them with an irritated sigh. Walter looked baffled and Swift looked...hurt? No, he couldn't be hurt. After all, he had 'Daisy' and gods only knew how many other possible conquests. He surely wouldn't risk any of them for a woman half his age, not to mention one who could die at any day in battle.
"It's nothing," she lied, hearing how false her own words rang. "I just want something to eat. After that I'll ask Captain Finn to begin my training. That is, if I am permitted to choose my own instructor?"
The two men were plainly baffled and troubled, especially Swift.
"Lara, what is going on?" Walter asked softly, quickly scanning the area to make certain that none of the other soldiers were about.
"Nothing," she said.
"That's not true. I know you better than that, Lara. I've been as a grandfather to you your entire life! I know when something is troubling you or you are out of sorts."
"I'm not out of sorts!" she snapped, then realised her error. She calmed her tone and continued on evenly. "I'm just hungry, that is all. Now, am I permitted to walk about as I please or am I a prisoner?"
She looked the Major in the eyes as she asked that question.
"No, of course you aren't a prisoner," he insisted, raising his hands in surrender.
Lara felt a sharp pang of remorse at the sadness and pain that flickered in his eyes.
"You may do as you please, of course! If...if you do not want my...instruction, I'll not...force myself upon you," he added.
"Jack!" Walter said softly, "you are the best one to teach her!"
"She plainly does not want anything to do with me!" Swift whispered so low that Lara almost didn't hear him. "She's..." He sighed and turned away. "She may do as she pleases. Perhaps a younger man is...best for her after all."
"Balls and nonsense!" Walter snapped. He seized Lara by her shoulders and gave her a shake. "Lara, you may be the Princess, but in this you'll bow to my judgement, do you hear me? Major Swift is the best rifle and pistol man there is! I'll not have you risking your life and the fate of Albion because you are...whatever in the hells you are! You'll go with the two of us right now, have a quick breakfast, and then Jack will begin your lessons. Do I make myself clear?"
Lara knew Walter was right. She also knew she should probably refuse; but she could not. He was not only correct but she loved and respected him too much to simply toss his excellent advice aside simply because her feelings and pride were wounded.
"Yes, Walter," she said, sighing. She then looked at Swift, who didn't quite meet her gaze. "And Major, I apologize. My behaviour was most inexcusable. Please...forgive me. I will behave and be civil from now on."
He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He was obviously wounded by her harshness. Lara was perversely glad of this, yet it pained her heart at the same time. He was genuinely hurt because of her! The wounded woman in her gloried in this, yet the one who cared for him ached.
She reached out and took his hands in hers. "Please, Major Swift...Jack...forgive me." And then she did something neither of the men expected, much less herself. She raised his gloved hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles through them. "I am truly sorry."
Swift looked into her eyes then. He appeared stunned, embarrassed, confused, and then pleased. This time his smile reached his eyes. He still smarted, obviously, but he looked considerably better.
He then gripped her hands firmly, taking charge of the hand-holding, and turned her bandaged hands over. He kissed her palms slowly, and then gently folded her fingers over them, in the customary way a man did when he wanted the lady to remember the kisses. He then slowly released her hands.
Walter stood by, wide-eyed, but apparently relieved. "Now, may we proceed?" the gruff old man asked.
Lara nodded.
The tea was delicious. Arthur, the main cook, also made the best sour-dough biscuits Lara had ever tasted. If this man's cooking talents extended beyond tea and breakfast, Lara knew she would have to woo him to her employ after she became Queen.
Her rifle lesson, however, was not nearly as pleasant. It was frustrating in multiple ways. Firstly, the fact that she was so near Swift caused her to wear a constant blush that embarrassed her no end. He also worked her mercilessly, always insisting she could do better. And that wasn't even the shooting part! He first taught her how to assemble and disassemble a rifle over and over until her timing pleased him. And then he taught her to do the same with a pistol. And then he instructed her in loading and reloading until her hands ached and her fingers were numb.
Each time his hands brushed hers, whether on a bandage or her bare flesh, Lara would softly gasp, and she could only hope he didn't hear. This man had the most unnerving affect on her! Was this a small part of how a person in love felt? If so, she had no idea how she would manage to be the Hero Walter claimed Albion needed. If just the merest touch by Jack Swift could discombobulate her, how could she be expected to concentrate on anything?
However, Lara focussed as best she could, and apparently her teacher was pleased. Swift at last gently rubbed her aching back for a moment before he set down the guns and ordered her to sleep for awhile. He told her that she needed to rest and heal some more.
"But what about my training? I can't stop now!" Lara said, surprised. She wasn't accustomed to stopping anything until she was either utterly exhausted or unconscious. At least lately that had been how her life was proceeding.
"Lara, you cannot work all the time," Swift said, sounding pleased at her spirit yet unhappy to have to hold her back. "Part of learning is knowing when to step away and rest."
"All I have known lately is work," Lara said, finding that being idle made her uncomfortable. She was also surprised to find herself once more conversing with the man she had hoped she could be angry with. "Nothing but practice, more practice, studying, and battle after battle. I don't sleep much, Major. I usually don't rest more than three or four hours a night. I'm sure you and your men are much the same!"
"Please, call me...never mind," Swift sighed, looking away. "But, no, we do indeed rest. Nightfall has been the bane of our existence and our duty for many months. But we rest and I do my best to make certain every soldier has at least six hours of rest under his belt before going on duty."
"Six hours?" Lara couldn't remember the last time she had been able to rest for that long. Had it really been almost seven months from the last time Jasper had roused her from her bed in Bowerstone Castle?
"Hey!" a voice said, interrupting them. Ben Finn strode over to them. "Is it time for the lady to rest? I'll escort you back to your tent!"
"I think I can find it myself, thank you," Lara said, but smiled. "Tell me, Mr. Finn, do all soldiers have you as an escort?"
Finn had the good grace to blush. "No, ma'am! But for you, I'll make an exception!" The eager young lady's man then flashed her his most charming smile.
From the corner of her eye, Lara saw Swift bow his head slightly. There was a weariness and even perhaps resignation in his posture.
Swift gave his attention to the guns now. "Princess Lara, you may go with Finn if you like, but do go and rest. You don't need me any longer...today."
Jack Swift wasn't sure if he was happy or not. From the first moments he had met Princess Lara he had liked her. Soon, he had respected her and was in awe of her ability, determination, and spirit. And then he had found her to be most agreeable company and when her intelligence and common sense surfaced, he knew he had met a kindred spirit.
She was the very woman he could love. In fact, he probably already did, but he fought valiantly against the emotion, as suddenly he did not know how she regarded him.
At first, he had feared his age would deter Lara from having any interest in him whatsoever. But she had soon and with no nonsense allayed that fear. However, he then realised how selfish he was being to even entertain thoughts of winning her heart despite how little age meant to her. She was nearly one and twenty, and he had just turned forty. He looked older than his years even, and being a soldier had aged him. Besides his weathered face, his family tended to have their hair grey or whiten rather early. He had had his white streak for almost ten years now.
He was a simple man from a middle-class merchant family. However, their rise over a century ago from more humble origins never stopped his ancestors and now the living Swifts to aspire to the highest learning and culture they could achieve. His father and grandfather had both served in the militia and had educated him and taught him sword fighting. They had been more expert with guns, however, and hunting and target practice was a passion for them.
His mother, grandmother, and aunts always made certain he knew etiquette and proper manners and to respect women. He also learned how to truly appreciate them. From them he learned that being a woman did not mean less intelligence, virtue, value, or even battle-worthiness and valour.
Lara proved this to him in the flesh just a short while ago. He had never seen a woman, nor, for that matter, a man, fight as ferociously and efficiently as she did. Granted, she was a Hero, but many Heroes of the past failed to show her determination and courage. The way she had backed Jammy so fiercely and watched for every comrade near her had impressed him beyond measure. Not a single one of his men had even half her talent, save for shooting.
Young Jack had learned to shoot a rifle proficiently before he was ten years of age and then was taught to use a pistol. His grandfather, Jeremiah Swift, had gifted him the pistol he now carried. Jack preferred this pistol to any other weapon for the sentimental value it held, but in this place, where the soldiers emulated, and even idolized him, he was careful to stress the usefulness of rifles, as they were more accurate at long range. He would not risk his men a single injury or offer one to the slightest chance of death simply because he himself preferred his pistol.
Still, he would teach Lara both. He knew there were very special weapons across Albion that had special abilities and enhancements. He wanted her to be able to choose which she would prefer. Tomorrow he would gift her the rifle he had altered and designed and that his men had dubbed the 'Swift Irregular.' He would not tell her that her gun would be his own and the very first 'Swift Irregular.' He would also gift her with his grandfather's pistol.
Yes, he may as well admit to himself that whether or not she could ever love him, or even like him, his heart was hers. So was his soul, if she would ever want such a pitiful thing. Regardless, he wanted his most prized possessions to be hers.
Yesterday she had been kind to him and genuinely liked him. He knew it. He felt it. And she had said so. But today, her feelings had taken an awful turn. From the moment she stepped out of the tent she had plainly wanted to avoid him. Hostility had taken the place of enjoyment of being with him. Anger had replaced happiness. Disdain had replaced affection and a scowl her lovely smile.
And thinking on lovely...he knew how she could fear that her body was less than beautiful. Indeed, when he and Walter had undressed, washed, and treated her wounds, he had seen her many scars. Some were in places that frightened him when he saw them, for he had been amazed that she had survived whatever had caused them.
Yet her scars were almost as pale as her flesh and many were not plainly visible unless one looked carefully. Others were thick and textured and obvious. As a Hero, they had healed well and were not red or pink as an ordinary scar would be for months or perhaps years. But to Swift, each of Lara's scars only enhanced her otherwise incredible beauty. She was a beautiful woman. Even if no other man would see her as such, he did. Even if she were deformed he would see her as beautiful.
He loved her. Swift bowed his head lower and polished his pistol. Yes, it had been only a short time, but he knew that he was forever hers whether she wanted him or not.
