"Are you just going to sit there and brood or are you going to help me with this?" A heart-warmingly familiar and heavily accented, albeit a tad annoyed, feminine voice cut through Raven's, well, broodiness. She lifted her head from where it had been resting on the kitchen window, eyes gazing off into the palace gardens unseeingly, and turned to look at her best friend, Rory, staring back at her with one dark eyebrow raised. Silver eyes watched Raven worriedly as she untangled herself from the position she had put herself in, curled up in a space between two large cupboards in the Castle Kitchens, and black curls escaped the neatly pinned bun piled on top of Rory's head as she shook her head in dismay at the distant, depressed mood Raven had woken up in.
Raven stared blankly at the slender wooden broom Rory was holding out to her, blinked once and then answered almost robotically, "I was going to brood, actually,"
Rory sighed in exasperation, thrusting the broom into her young friend's hands and dragging her out of the kitchens, where the other servants had rushed to form a circle to gossip about Raven's latest funk and the fierce scolding they had heard through the thin castle walls late the night before.
Raven had snuck out again, like she wasn't the Queen of Albion and had to sneak around, and had accidentally gotten drunk. And I mean, very drunk. She had taken a shot when she arrived at the Brothel to steady her nerves, and when that had tasted like heaven in a glass she had had a few more, then there was that customer who was a little too friendly and had pumped her with ale. That was why she had stumbled into her bedchambers, half-delirious with alcohol, and promptly fell to the floor in a fit of giggles when she saw Walter standing there. Slightly perturbed was an understatement at the waves of fury radiating off her mentor. Her reasoning for the laughter at the time, ingenious as it was, had been his beard was so bushy. We all know what happened next and now Raven had a killer hangover, her stomach felt like raw sandpaper, and no-one had yet to laugh at her.
Which meant that Reaver had kept her little secret to himself for reasons not even Avo himself knew. And that was why Raven was in such a foul mood, though her lips still tingled when she thought of those green eyes betraying a whole new emotion that she didn't understand to her.
"It doesn't make sense!" Raven cried for what would have to be the billionth time since she had first stepped outside her chambers and padded down to the kitchens. Rory groaned from her position up ahead in one of the hallways, slim shoulders dropping slightly as she humoured the hero.
"What doesn't, Raven?"
Raven glared at the older woman, dark eyes piercing holes in Rory's sly grin, "You know what,"
And she did, having heard it too many times to count all that morning. Raven was worried, as usual, about what Reaver could possibly be planning. He had nothing gain from keeping her secret, well nothing she knew of at the time, and for every secret he did keep his silence Raven grew sicker and sicker with worry. She had heard enough rumours to have the good sense to be scared and the intelligence not to let it show to anyone but those she trusted with her life. Fear was a weakness after all, and Raven's mother had taught her to never, under any circumstances, show weakness to the aforementioned man. So Raven kept most of the growing apprehension she felt to herself and now her heart was heavy with so many possible complications she didn't really need nor want right now.
"You know, where I'm from, this little thing you've got going on is called affection. Which leads to either dating or angry sex," Rory said with a snicker at the way the younger woman's dark eyes bugged out her skull and her cheeks turned a distinct crimson. Then she dodged a fireball that had seemingly come out of nowhere with such grace that one would think she had been doing it for years. Rory was far too used to Raven's fierce and easily triggered temper after the six years they had been friends, though the fireballs were new, even serving as a sort of mother figure when the hero had been a young girl entering into adolescence with only men to look to for advice.
"Deny it all you want, little Raven!" Rory sang, swiftly dancing out of the way of another fireball that left black scorch marks in the wallpaper, before disappearing around the corner and set to work dusting the library.
Raven entered the room a few moments later, face pulled down into a scowl and mumbling something about rude servants and one of these days I'm going to fire you, but nonetheless followed Rory's example and swept the floor with the broom she had been handed. They worked in silence, Rory grinning to herself as she watched her friend silently switch between fuming anger and quiet contemplation out of the corner of her eyes, Raven's emotions clearly displayed on her noble features like an open book for the entire world to see.
"Where are you from?" Raven asked hesitantly, her insatiable curiosity getting the best of her once again as she peered at her friend from underneath chocolate waves of hair. She had often breached the subject with Rory but always get the same answer:
"A place a long way from here," Rory said simply, eyes turning wistful as she stared out the window into the gardens. Raven wondered over the strangle nasally accent the other girl spoke in, her abrupt references to mysterious things no-one she had ever spoken to knew of, the strange way she talked; so out of place and refreshingly different among the stuffy elaborate speech Raven had been raised with. It was a burning desire within Raven that one day she would find out where all these things came from, but unfortunately this was not the day because it was clear that no matter how much she probed or poked with her silver tongue the other woman wasn't going to get an answer out of the older woman. Raven filed it away into the back of her mind to ask Logan if he knew anything when she next visited him.
"One of these days I'm going to get you to tell me," Raven said firmly, chocolate eyes blazing as Rory let out a hearty laugh. The older woman placed a hand on her back with a wry smile as if to say I have no doubt you will, before they both turned back to their jobs. Raven idly wondered why she was even cleaning her castle in the first place.
They must have worked with only the faint scratching of bristles against tiles and books for a good twenty minutes until a sharp bark cut through the silence and a furry body pounced on Raven, knocking her to the desk as she grinned when a rough tongue ran over her cheeks affectionately. Rebel barked happily, trotting over to sit at Rory's feet with the most adorable expression the dog could muster until Rory complied with a groan and rain long fingers through the thick black fur, and Raven watched two of her best friends play with an affectionate grin. That was until a voice she would know anywhere resounded around the room.
"Well, well, well, wonders will never cease. Behold, the Righteous Queen Raven, cleaning," Reaver's familiarly annoying drawl rang in the two woman's ears, causing both to look up at the man who now stood in the doorway, one doing so only with great reluctance and a heavy drawn out sigh. Well it had been a good less than twelve hours, Raven thought sulkily before turning to greet the devil himself.
Reaver was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the young monarch with bright emerald eyes, taking no effort to hide the plain amusement shining inside the brilliant green. Twin pistol holders were clearly visible against the white fabric of his pants as he crossed his legs, causing Raven's defences to immediately go on high alert. She dropped the broom she had been holding onto the desk behind her, straightening up and crossing her arms over her chest and meeting Reaver's piercing gaze with a withering stare of her own, chocolate depths all fiery determination and challenges. One elegant eyebrow was raised as he chuckled slightly and Raven glared, grasping for a reason why she was cleaning. None she could come up with made any sense. Fortunately she was saved from another dose of mortification when Rory stepped in between the glaring couple, having disentangled herself from the affectionate canine, and sauntered up to Reaver, hips swaying pronouncedly
"I'm sorry, Master Reaver, that is entirely my fault. I teased Raven here into helping me," Rory drawled seductively, silver eyes smouldering as she looked up at the tall man from underneath dark lashes. Reaver, being Reaver, immediately redirected his attention to the blatantly flirting female before him, appraising the woman's shapely body with green eyes glazed over in barely disguised lust. Rory smirked, inching a little bit close, while Raven watched the scene with curiosity for her friend's actions and a strange flickering of jealousy springing to life in her chest.
"Ah, such things happen. Now I do believe you have put me in a bit of a tight spot, dear lady," Reaver smirked, appearing to have completely forgotten the young hero in the room who watched the two, completely appalled, as Rory raised one slender eyebrow in questioning as her pink lips formed a seductive o, "You know who I am, well, who doesn't, but I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance,"
"My name is Aurora, you may call me Rory," The older woman purred, equally as seductively as the man staring down at her now as he took her hand and placed a light kiss on her knuckles. Raven gagged as she saw the slight shiver go up her friend's spine at the contact.
"Charmed, Rory," Reaver smirked, his hand glove hand still holding Rory's. It was then Raven decided that if she was forced to watch any more of this inane interaction she would surely go insane, or at the very least have nightmares for weeks about Reaver and Rory and that room with its chains and…
Clearing her throat loudly, Raven stepped forward to stand beside her friend, poking her hard in the back with her index finger. Rory immediately jerked backwards with a hiss as pain flared along her spine, glaring at the young monarch who was looking decidedly smug as she turned to look up at Reaver with hands on her hips, effectively wrenching her hand from Reaver's grasp.
"May I help you, Master Reaver? As you can see I'm very busy…dusting," Raven said haughtily, trying to put her best amount of commanding defiance into the tone but even she had to cringe at the last bit. Jasper would have had a royal fit at the mere thought of the precious princess cleaning her own castle; such a thing was unthinkable to the traditional butler. Out of the corner of her eye Raven saw Rory hide her giggle behind a sudden outburst of coughing, an action that earned her another sharp jib in the ribs and earning Raven a cry of outrage from the older woman. Reaver turned to Raven with the same lust-filled eyes that had been trained on Rory only seconds before, which made the hairs on the back of Raven's neck stand on edge.
"Must there always be a reason, Mon Corbeau, would you believe me if I say I am here simply to partake in your sparkling wit and humour?" Reaver drawled, head cocked to the side arrogantly as he made flippant gestures with his hands as he spoke.
Raven didn't even flinch in her determination as she said, "Not a chance,"
Reaver chuckled and detached himself from the doorway, sauntering over to stand beside Raven he took her arm in his, "If you must know, Ma Cherie, I do have something to discuss with you. Perhaps we could take a walk in your divine gardens? That is unless you have more dusting to do."
Raven ground her teeth together in anger at the mocking insinuation in his voice but quickly reminded herself that this could be beneficial to her as well, besides it wouldn't do to have a dead and bloody Reaver on the floor with how much time she spent in the library. As much as the thought amused her.
"Of course, Master Reaver," Raven agreed, the picture perfect image of royal politeness as she extracted her arm from his grasp, "Please go on ahead without me, I must have a quick chat with Ms. Rory here, but I will be out soon,"
Reaver swept both of the woman a gallant bow, eyes lingering somewhat on Rory's plunging neckline, before smirking and strutting off out the door of the library and into the awaiting gardens. Raven poked her tongue out, somewhat childishly, at the devious businessman's retreating figure as Rory let out loud guffaws of laughter from behind the young hero.
"From now on I'm going to call that man Peacock!" Raven exclaimed grandly with an indignant huff, doubling her friend's laughter. She spun to Rory with both her eyebrows raised in question to which the woman had the brains to feign innocence.
"What? He's hot," Rory deadpanned, shrugging her shoulders at Raven's expression of utter shock and confusion. Raven still didn't understand the sordid fascination all these women Reaver managed to bed had with him. He was sadistic, psychopathic, and manipulative…
"And very, very handsome," Rory sang, guessing her friends thoughts.
"My brother's going to kill you out of jealousy one day," Raven stated, straight-faced.
Rory shrugged, grinning dismissively as she said, "Eh, you win some, you lose some, such is life"
XXX
The gloriously sweet scent of roses in a myriad of vibrant colours floated around Raven on the late morning breeze, complimented by the somewhat subtler scents of violet irises and sapphire hydrangeas. Raven inhaled deeply, the distinctly floral aroma tickling her nose and relaxing her tense body. Vivacious blooms of colour greeted her eyes at every glance, broken only by the grey gravel scattered across the ground and the occasional equally dazzling nobleman or woman, and the trickling of the grey stone fountain in the courtyard lent a distinct aura of calm to the otherwise hectic castle. She had always loved the gardens her mother had grown and tended to when they first moved to the castle, often escaping here when she had had a fight with Elliot or Logan or she simply wanted to be alone. Raven had came here less and less often as it became more and more filled with the aristocrats who wanted to get into the Queen's good graces. Exactly the same types of nobles that were now clustering together in small groups to gossip about the Queen and her new walking partner, and, might she add, being extremely unsubtle about it.
Reaver had one arm wrapped possessively around her waist, his palm resting on her stomach, having caught her in the hold when she had refused to take his arm again. Raven cringed as she once again tripped slightly over air in her own nervousness, causing herself to press further into Reaver's side, a strange flare of tingling burning where his hands slid. She saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye as she visibly shivered, twirling his brass cane idly in his spare hand. He's warm; Raven thought casually, unconsciously shivering against the chilly early spring wind. It was an odd observation to make, for surely every human being with a beating heart would be warm when it was cold, but nonetheless the young hero couldn't help but notice it was an unusual degree of fondness.
"What do you really want, Reaver?" Raven asked finally as they left the main part of the gardens behind and reached a more secluded area, some of the tension in her shoulders leaving as she was sure that no nobles were listening to her every word. Well, not entirely sure.
The aforementioned man chuckled, smirking as he looked down at the young monarch, placing a hand over his heart in mockery, "You wound me, Ma Cherie,"
She shot him a look that said she didn't believe one word of his feigned innocence, contempt and wariness plain in the dark brown depths of her orbs. Sighing dramatically, Reaver let his eyes smoulder as he admitted to his companion, "All right, my dear, if you must know, I came here to propose a ball to be held here. In your honour of course, Mon Corbeau,"
"Hmm, let me think about it. No." Raven rejected sarcastically, "and stop calling me that, I know what it means,"
Suddenly strong hands gripped her hips pushing her backwards, and then solid stone wall was at her back, a certain devious tycoon's body pressed flushed with hers. Raven's breath caught in her throat as Reaver balanced himself on elbows placed either side of her head, her chest crushed slightly by his, his face only inches from hers. She found her eyes lingering on the curve of his smirking lips, flashes of the passionate kiss she had indulged herself in the previous morning flashing back with surprising ferocity. She wondered if they tasted the same as they did then, her fingers twitching where they lay limply at her sides, would his hair be the same black silk.
"Care to rethink your judgement?" Reaver purred, his hot breath tickling her air. She gulped down the lump of indescribable want forming in her throat, her knees starting to shake slightly as a strange desire pooled into her stomach and spread lower.
But still Raven kept her determination and managed to stutter out, "N-n-no"
"Tut, tut, we'll have to teach you a less in civility then,"
All logical thought left her as strong lips were pressed to hers, both demanding and compliant at the same time, hard and soft, stubborn and coaxing. For a moment she stood limp, unable to do anything, before her body moved on its own, an entity completely separate from her mind which appeared to have taken a vacation. Her arms wrapped around Reaver's neck, dainty fingers running through the thick black hair that was still like silk to the touch, and she gasped when he released her lips and led a march of fire kisses starting at the tip of her jaw all the way down to her jugular, nipping and sucking playfully along the way. Raven couldn't help but let a small moan as one of his hands moved down her back to cup her arse before sliding along her thigh and bringing her leg up around his hips, the thin fabric of her leggings protesting against the movement, while the other trailed painfully slowly up her abdomen to cup one breast through the straining fabric of her shirt. She groaned in desire as he ground their hips together scrumptiously, bucking forward violently as on slender finger tweaked her nipple through the fabric and taking a small pleasure when Reaver let out a soft moan of his own, the sound muffled against the crook of her neck where he was planting hot kisses.
"Lustful little thing aren't you?" Reaver purred huskily slightly out of breath as he captured her lips once again in a heated kiss. One would think that sentence in itself, coming from its owners mouth, would have brought Raven's mind back from its extended holiday to Aurora, but alas that wasn't the case. Instead it was the distinct sound of shoes crunching against gravel that brought her back to her senses with an almighty crash.
"R-r-r-reaver st-oh-op," Raven managed to ground it, albeit a bit shakily, when he finally released her mouth for some much needed air. Her protests were met only with a chuckle, which was a bit more breathless than the usual, and another fierce kiss on her jugular, smirking when he felt her pulse spike erratically under his touch.
"Only if you reconsider my proposal, Ma Petite Renarde," Reaver murmured against her ear, making her arch into him in surprise. Raven squeaked in surprise when her legs finally gave out from under her, grasping on to Reaver's wide shoulders for support, so he was the only thing holding her from flouncing unceremoniously onto the dirt.
"Someone's coming!" She hissed from where her head had fallen on his shoulder. Reaver simply chuckled again. Raven had already known that part of the argument would not work, the man had no modesty whatsoever, but it was a worth a try. Besides the person most likely coming was a noble and it wouldn't be "moral" to have their Queen becoming extremely intimate with the man who had almost singlehandedly brought about the downfall of Bowerstone.
But Raven really didn't want to have a ball at the castle, let along one held by the man who was currently ravishing her neck, she tended to avoid large gatherings of society, a flaw that Logan had fortunately made up for, preferring only to speak to her closest friends and family. On the other hand she didn't know how much longer she could take this, her body was already losing its ability to fight as was her mind when everywhere Reaver touched a feeling of pleasure she had never felt for exploded forth. Fortunately her mind was made up for her when the crunching of gravel became much too close just as Reaver's spare hand inched it way toward the waistband of her pants, fingers dancing expertly over the laces.
"Fine! Okay! You can have your ball!" Raven cried, twisting way with what little humility she could manage to preserve. Her whole body turned as red as the fiery pits of Skorm's realm as Raven turned her back to Reaver, righting her clothes and straightening out her hair as she felt his eyes burning holes of smug content into the back of her neck. Gingerly she pressed a finger to her lips, swollen and bruised as she suspected, before trailing down to her neck where she could see the beginnings of many a red mark starting to form. She cringed inwardly, already trying to think of a cover story for her maids and Jasper. She couldn't very well come out and say, I just made out with Reaver and probably would have let him done much more had we not started it in a freaking garden. Balls. Balls. Balls.
"Wonderful, your Majesty! I shall begin preparations at once; the ball will be a week from today." Reaver exclaimed grandly and Raven spun around with some retort dripping with sarcasm and malice when she saw a noble couple passing them with odd looks on their face. She nodded to them, mustering all the composure she had managed to gain, with her best Queenly smile full of fake hope and reassurances that no the country was not going to pieces and no she hadn't just made out with Reaver. Reaver. She was going insane. Possibly already was.
The couple passed and Raven let her smile drop, abruptly feeling nothing but tired and old beyond her short eighteen years. She dared a glance at Reaver, who was leaning against his cane, undeniably smug and looking none worse for wear, before promptly fixing him with the fiercest glare she could manage and stalking off towards the castle and her own blissfully private rooms. She really didn't need human interaction right now. Perhaps she would post Rebel at the door as a guard.
Raven didn't get very far before lightly muscled arms pulled her back into the darkness of the large stone statues, she knew under her feet lay the remains of her parents, wrapping around her waist. Warm lips were pressed to her neck, right over the angry red mark that was most assuredly plainly visible now, and a chill rolled down her spine as that chuckle that would haunt both her nightmares and her dreams for a good month rang in her ears.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Raven," Reaver murmured mockingly, Raven's body going completely still as if bracing herself for the pistol that would surely follow, but instead the hero of skill merely released the young monarch and strutted away as if she were merely another stick in the mud.
"Bloody damnable Peacock!" Raven screeched after the retreating figure of Reaver, anger seething beneath her skin as she slumped against the stone wall and buried her hide in her knees. She felt like some kind of puppet, danced around in front of a crowd for cheep kicks and sadistic pleasure, while the answers and secret to her freedom were tangled right in front of her. So tantalizingly close but just out of reach and she was blind. Blind and naive and suddenly realising that secrets were far more dangerous then she had first suspected, especially in the hands of someone like Reaver who would use them to make her squirm just for his own amusement. Oh what in Avo's name had she gotten herself into.
XXX
Three days passed. Three days filled with court sessions and more gold lost and extra shifts taken at the Brothel. Three days that were utterly and completely Reaver free. At this point, Raven was taking small blessings as they came.
Well that was until a messenger boy appeared to her one day after her last court session for the day, baring a blood red card embroidered in elaborate gold patterns with a simple message scrawled in elegant handwriting:
Meet as soon as you get this, Mon Corbeau
We have business to discuss
P.S. Peacock? Really? A tad childish isn't it?
R
She had considered not going at all, telling herself that he simply wanted to discuss some inane detail about the upcoming ball and that could definitely wait until tomorrow when she wasn't falling asleep while standing. But somehow she had still ended up outside the imposing cream mansion, slamming the wooden doors open and immediately marching up to Reaver's study. A small point of her pointed out that wasn't it a little strange that she knew the way by heart, but she quickly squashed that part when she came upon Reaver standing by the fireplace, swirling a goblet of wine in his fingers thoughtfully.
Dread filled clenched her heart as he turned to look at her, emerald eyes blazing with excitement and something else, something darker that even Raven didn't want to know.
"What do you want?" She demanded, summoning her nerves of steel as she attempted to stare Reaver down despite the fact that he was a good head and a bit taller than her.
Reaver simply took a step toward her and handed her a second goblet he had mysteriously procured before smirking and saying evasively, "I am here to propose a deal,"
"A deal?"
Reaver gestured to one of the waiting plush, velvet, red arm chair with one gloved hand. Dance for the puppet master Raven, dance.
A/N: Jesus, Mary and Russell Brand~! A cliff-hanger! Because I'm mean and I've been up since two in the morning yesterday (it's 8am now, it's amazing what a shitload (shit is a bad word don't say it ^_^) of coke and Maltesers plus Within Temptation and Nickelback can do to keep you awake). Anyhoo, pwoar! Did it get hot in here or was it just Reaver XD? I actually didn't plan this, the plot I had planned ran out last chapter hehe, so the story is kind of writing itself which is why I fear Reaver may be OOC in this chap but maybe I'm just being paranoid =D. My first OC in this chapter too, did you guys like Rory? I'm planning on writing a spin-off story about her later so that's why details might be a bit weird. As always much love to those who reviewed, (7 reviews now! You guys rock Reaver's smelly socks!)story alerted or favourited and keep em coming. Special thanks to wolf2008lllll and Ultra-Violetta for inspiring me to write this chap quicker, you guys deserve very muscular men in oil to serve you grapes all day =3 Hmm, I think I might get me one of those hehehehe.
French Translations:
Mon Corbeau – My Raven
Ma Cherie – My Darling
Ma Petite Renarde – My Little Vixen
Oh and in case you don't get the nickname I decided to call him Peacock because he struts a lot and shows off to the ladies, just like the aforementioned fowl does. My bro actually called him that when we first played fable 2 ^.^.