AN: Hello, lovely readers! Thank you so much for the continued support, favourites, story alerts and reviews!
I took a little detour with the Reaver mansion quest, since felt that we didn't see nearly enough of the deviant in either of the two games he appeared in. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 12
Annabelle met Page in front of Reaver's extravagant manor a few minutes before ten. She had to stop herself from scoffing at the extravagant mansion, complete with a statue of Reaver. This monster lives in luxury while children are forced to work in factories. Where is the justice in the world? she wondered.
"Oh, good. Let's head in," Page said curtly and the two women headed inside. The inside of the manor was lit with dim red light and most of the guests were strewn across the floor, unconscious or in a very compromising position. They were met with a butler in the foyer shortly after they entered.
"You two are late! All of the alcohol is already finished and most of the guests are already indisposed, so that rules out any orgies," the butler rambled. "Never mind, Master Reaver will be pleased for some sober quests for the final ritual. Follow me." Before Annabelle could process what was going on, the man beckoned for them to follow him. Shooting a glance at Page, she left after him.
"Master Reaver is in the ballroom through here. Enjoy," the butler said with a sly smile and opened the door for them, ushering them inside.
Annabelle fumbled for the sword strapped to her dress, making sure it was still there and went inside. Something tells me this is a trap, she thought when she saw that the ballroom was empty save for a large cage in the middle of the room.
"Kidd!" Page called and rushed to the man inside the cage. "I'll get him out, Page," Annabelle offered and started looking for a latch. The moment she started fumbling with the bars, the cage slowly started rising off the floor. Clutching to her handhold, she continued to look for a door, trying not to fall off.
"Ah, more rabble!" a voice drawled from the balcony. "Don't you think I would know when the resistance wants to infiltrate one of my parties?" The cage shuddered to a halt and Annabelle was forced to let go. When she landed on her feet, she glanced up to the balcony. As soon as she did that, her gaze locked with that of Reaver. "And what lovely pieces of rabble you are," he said luridly. "What do you say we all head upstairs to settle this dispute?"
"No thanks, Reaver. Killing you should be more than enough entertainment!" Page retorted.
"Spirited aren't you? You must be lightning between the sheets," Reaver replied, still grinning lewdly. "But you're not leaving. You're the main entertainment!" He turned to his butler who appeared upstairs. "Start the Wheel of Misfortune!"
A giant wheel started spinning on the opposite wall and landed on an ominous symbol. "Ah, we're starting with Hobbes!" Reaver called merrily and a door swung open. Annabelle unsheathed her sword and headed into the room.
After a few more spins and fighting through hobbes, mercenaries, balverines, hollow men and what Reaver called "sand furies", they ended up back in the ballroom.
"Enough, Reaver! We won. Just let our men go and we'll leave," Page called to the balcony.
"Why would I do that?" Reaver replied with a smile.
"Do you know who this is, Reaver?" Page said, motioning to Annabelle. "Logan's sister, the princess and a Hero." Annabelle looked at the leader of the rebels in shock. How could she give away my identity?
"So I was right. As much as I hate to come between siblings, I think this particular lady will prove quite…entertaining," Reaver responded. "Capture the princess and the resistance member."
Finally, Page snapped and aimed her pistol at Reaver's head. She pulled the trigger, but just before the bullet hit Reaver's face, he deflected it with the flick of his cane, still smirking.
"You're going to have to do better than that, love!" he said and before Annabelle could react, a strong pair of arms grabbed her. She moved to attack him, but he pulled her arm painfully. "Struggle and we kill your friend," the guard whispered menacingly into her ear. She looked at Page and was shocked to see her knocked unconscious. She immediately stopped fighting and let herself be led away by the guard.
"Take the rabble to the dungeon and the princess to my personal chambers. Be sure to take her weapons and those ugly gauntlets," she heard Reaver say from the ball room. Her gauntlets and weapons were roughly ripped from her and, after being chained to the bed with a pair of handcuffs, the guard left her in the room. She tried to wiggle free, but the restraints around her hands only caused chafing. With a sigh, she looked around the room. The walls were decorated with posters of Reaver and she felt dirty just lying on top of the satin sheets of the huge bed.
She was still looking for an escaped route when the door swung open. Reaver sauntered in, wearing that smirk that made her feel so uncomfortable. "Ah, Princess," he said and approached the bed. She started struggling against her bonds, feeling helpless without any means of defending herself. There was no way she was going to give in to this monster.
With an amused smile, he leaned in by her ear. "Don't worry. I won't force myself on you. There are some things even I do not approve of. The only way I'll give you anything is if you beg for it," he whispered huskily, his warm breath on her ear and she jerked away. She was seriously rethinking her promise to Ben about not touching him if he were the last man in Albion.
"I'll never beg for anything from you," she spat at him, but instead of discouraging him, the deviant gave a tinkling laugh.
"Feisty, I like that. You remind me of your father in fact." He stroked his smooth chin in thought. "Too bad he wasn't as open-minded as I would have liked, but unlike you, he was older and more experienced in the ways of the world and knew how to say no."
He leaned even closer. "But you, mabelle fleur, are young, naïve and in a slightly more…interesting…predicament."
"That doesn't mean that I'll beg for a chance to sleep with you, Reaver!" she hissed at him.
Believe me, Princess. You'll offer yourself to me sooner than you think," he replied with another smile, trailing a finger across her cheek. "Such a beautiful vixen...To think your brother hid you from me for all these years," he sighed wistfully.
"Thankfully, he did one thing right," she sneered and he fixed her with another predatory smirk.
"You must certainly drive the men mad with your fire, ma belle fleur."
"Stop calling me that! I am not "your beautiful flower", you arse! Just get out of here!" She wanted nothing more than to smack that smirk off his face and fry him with a well-aimed fireball. How any woman could fall willingly into Reaver's bed was a mystery to her.
"Oh, my dear, I'm sure we'll find something else to call you. You will be staying here for a while, after all."
She didn't even respond to that and turned her face away. "All right. I'll leave you alone. Just remember, if you change your mind, I'll be right next door. Tatty-bye," he said with a wave and left the room.
After a few more unsuccessful attempts at escaping, she gave up and settled back to go to sleep, but not before sending a quiet prayer out to her father to send help.
oOoOoOo
Ben paced the width of the room over and over, waiting anxiously for Annabelle to return. It was almost dawn and she still wasn't back yet, which was causing him to go mad with concern. If Reaver so much as touched her, I'm going to kill the bastard myself, he seethed. "Something's wrong, I can feel it. She should have been back by now!" he mumbled to himself and shot a worried glance at Walter. "Shouldn't we do something?"
Walter stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Normally I'd say, "Shut up, Ben," but I think you're right."
"So I'm going to Reaver's manor? Good," Ben said and grabbed his weapons.
Walter tried to stop him. "Ben, we need a plan," he interrupted.
Ben shook his head. "We had a plan and look where we ended up. I'm leaving right now and you two are staying here." With this, he shot a pointed look at the border collie left in his care.
"Ben, you're not going alone!" Walter insisted.
"If something happens to any one of you, Annabelle will kill me," Ben replied.
He dashed out of the room before Walter could stop him again. He ran almost all the way to Millfields and by the time they reached Reaver's mansion the sun was peeking over the horizon.
He was shocked to see the lawn littered with passed out partygoers, but ignored them to look for some way into the house. Spotting vines leading up to a slightly ajar window, he ran over and started scaling the wall. He was glad to see it opened into a bedroom.
In the bedroom, he found a sleeping Annabelle cuffed to the bed and he was relieved to see her clothes were still intact. If he wasn't so worried, the whole situation would have been hilarious. Though he tried to be stealthy, when he climbed inside the window, the movement caused her to wake up.
"I told you, Reaver, I'd rather die than sleep with you!" she said angrily and turned her head in the opposite direction.
"Well, Princess, I didn't peg you as the type to wake up chained to a strange man's bed," he joked and went to help her with a smile. "I also didn't peg you as the kind that would be stupid enough to get yourself captured.
Relief flooded her face when she recognized him. "Ben? Thank Avo!" she sighed. "I can't feel my arms anymore."
He couldn't help but tease her. "You know, since you're already on the bed…" he trailed off, regarding her thoughtfully.
"Shut up, Ben," she snapped and he started picking the lock on her wrists. "I guess we should add lock picking to your "useful skills" column," she remarked with a slight grimace when he unlocked her hands. She rubbed her wrist and he could see that the area was rubbed raw and slowly oozing blood.
She must have did that to herself trying to escape, he thought and vowed anew to kill Reaver if he ran into him, realizing how much she had to rub her hands for her wrists to look like that, if he took her healing factor into account.
"Let's just get you out of here befo-" He was interrupted by the opening of a door.
"Ah, Princess, if you wanted more company you should've just asked," Reaver remarked and entered the room, pistol drawn. "Your friend is more that welcome to join us," he continued, raising an eyebrow at Ben.
"As tempting as that sounds, I'll have to pass," Ben replied sarcastically and helped Annabelle to her feet, letting her lean against her after he saw her swaying slightly. "Just let us leave and no one will get hurt."
Reaver let out a laugh and Ben felt his blood boil anew. "Leave? Why would I let my newest pet leave? I haven't even had my fun with her."
Ben reached for his Flintlock Rifle behind his back and aimed at Reaver. "That wasn't a request, Reaver. I'm leaving and I'm taking the princess with me."
Reaver raised his Dragonstomper .48 between Ben's eyes. "I don't think so, boy. She's staying here." Though it was unnerving staring down the barrel of Reaver's fabled pistol, he didn't lower his rifle or his gaze.
"Stop it!" Annabelle exclaimed next to him. "Ben, he's going to kill you. Step down. Please," she whispered urgently. "I'll be fine. Just leave."
"I can squeeze off a shot before him, Bells," he replied, equally quiet.
Her green eyes pled with him when she said, "Please, Ben. He's a Hero of Skill. You can't!"
Reluctantly, he lowered his rifle and Annabelle sighed against him. "Reaver, let him go, alive, and you can do with me what you want," she conceded quietly and Ben looked at her with a shocked expression.
"Bells, you can't!" he cried, feeling his heart contract. He couldn't let her stay with this monster. He couldn't even stand the thought of her sleeping with him.
"Our agreement was that you would beg for anything from me, Princess," Reaver drawled, still pointing his pistol at Ben and Ben felt her stiffen against him.
"Fine. Please, Reaver. Please let him go and I will let you do anything with me. Please," she pled in a defeated tone.
"With a bit more emotion, please, Princess," Reaver said, sneering.
Ben felt her hold tighten on his arm as silent sobs tore through her body. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close, kiss her and tell her that it would be alright. It broke his heart to see her crying, especially over him. She was supposed to be the strong one, the one who had to keep everyone and everything together and here she was, crying because of Reaver, the last person that deserved her tears.
"Please, Reaver…I beg you…please just let him go…Please," she choked out, tears streaming from her beautiful green eyes. "I'll do anything…Please…"
"All right, I'm convinced," Reaver said with a lurid smile and Ben felt another stab of pain in his chest. "Your friend can go. Guards, escort this man to the ballroom." A burly guard appeared from behind him and pinned his arms painfully behind him.
"No! Our deal was that you'd let him go alive!" Annabelle exclaimed suddenly.
"Oh, but my dear, you asked me to let him go and I am. You didn't specify where I should let him go," Reaver replied and grabbed her arm. "He's going to take a little spin on the Wheel of Misfortune and we're going to watch."
Ben had no idea what was going on, but based on Annabelle's reaction, it was bad. "No! You can't!" she cried and struggled against Reaver's iron hold on her.
"You said I can do anything with you, Princess. And before you feel disappointed, there will be plenty of time for…other…activities later," Ben heard him whisper in her ear and he saw tears more start to pool in her eyes, but she stayed quiet as the guard started jerking him to the ballroom.
"Bells, I'll be fine," he whispered and shot her a forced smile. She turned away and he saw a tear roll down her cheek. She does care about me, he thought and if he wasn't fearing for his life, he would have been elated.
He was unceremoniously dumped in the empty ballroom and the guard tossed him more weapons, which he recognized as Annabelle's gauntlets and her sword and pistol. "You're going to need them," the guard said, grinning evilly. He glanced up at the balcony where Reaver was still maintaining a hold on Annabelle. Ben sincerely hoped that death by whatever Reaver planned was less painful than seeing the pain in her eyes.
oOoOoOo
"Hm…I hope this is going to be more entertaining than last night's spin," Reaver remarked. Annabelle felt as if her heart was breaking when she watched the guard throw Ben on the floor. He can't die, he just can't, her thoughts cried. She knew he was good, but he wasn't good enough to survive on his own.
She shot a silent glare at Reaver and thought of a way to rescue Ben. If only she had her weapons…
Then an idea formed in her head and she shot a look at Ben. She yanked her arm free of Reaver's grip and leaped over the balcony, hoping Ben realized what she was doing. And sure enough, she landed firmly in his waiting arms. "I hope you have a plan, Bells," he whispered in her ear as he lowered her to the ground.
"How do you know me, Captain?" she replied with a grin. "New deal, Reaver. If we live, you let us leave. If we die…well, you'll get your entertainment," she called to the balcony, pulling on her gauntlets.
Reaver seemed to consider it for a moment. "You know, I tire of these games. We'll meet again, Princess, I'm sure of that. Let them go," he replied. "Tatty-bye!" He turned on his heel and left.
She looked at Ben with a huge smile. "I told you I'd get you out," she said.
"Actually, you never said that, Princess," he replied with a cocky grin. "I thought I was the rescue party."
She shook her head and headed to the dungeons. "We need to go get Page," she rushed out and headed to where she saw the guards lead Page last night. They found her still unconscious in one of the cells.
"It's a good thing you have a strong back, Captain. You're going to have to carry her," she remarked as she unlocked the door with the key she stole from the guard.
"And I see we're going to have to add pickpocketing to your "useful skills" column, Princess." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know where you learned to do that?"
"Just because you don't know how to use your small hands doesn't mean I didn't dabble in the finer art of pilfering, Captain."
He shot her a lopsided grin and lowered his voice seductively. "Oh, I know how to use my hands, Princess. Don't you doubt that for a second. And now that I've seen you can do the same…" he trailed off and quirked his eyebrow suggestively.
She felt her cheeks heat up with a blush and turned away. "Shut up, Finn and get Page before Reaver changes his mind," she said flippantly, but she could hear her voice tremble and knew he could too.
"Of course, Princess," he replied with a smug smile on his face and went to pick up Page's limp form. "Sod, it's a good things she's unconscious, because I wouldn't dare say that she's heavier than she looks to her face," he grunted.
She rolled her eyes and they made their way out of Reaver's manor once and for all. As she left that horrid place in her wake, she silently thanked her father for the help he sent in the form of a charming captain.
