'Closer, My Darling'
Authors Note: Sorry this chapter took ridiculously long. I actually had to go out, purchase Fable II and re-beat it to do some preemptive research for future chapters. That in itself took a little while, not to mention I spent 600 years flirting with Reaver in "Reaver's Rear Passage" (pun may or may not be intended). I realize that reading a story that seriously neglects climax can be a total mood killer. I'm not writing a novel here, but some people enjoy the wait as much as I do. I guess I'll leave it up to you. Leave your thoughts in the review box, because I always take them into consideration (Exception being any sort of battle scene, as it will be a while, since Logan is safely tucked away right now, although I could throw in a bandit altercation or two...). Long authors notes are becoming my trademark because much like Reaver, I apparently like the sound of my own voice, so I might as well throw in that I'm trying to make Logan and the Queen's interactions a little more.. sibling-like, and less formal. I just don't want it to come off as poor or lazy writing. (I WILL BE GOING BACK AND CHANGING REAVER'S AGE TO AROUND 32 INSTEAD OF 22/26. (I've been spending way too much time around kids in their 20's and it's way too immature for how I picture Reaver. He doesn't look that boyish.)
(Doc uploader went apeshit again, made everything in italics, and messed a whole lot of other shit up. Just ignore it for now. I'm working on fixing it.)
'I've got your knife inside my back, I've got your rope around my neck
I feel your poison in my veins, corrode and eat away my days'
The violent storm raged outside, and the sound of the tumultuous wind echoed through the halls of the darkened estate. Heavy rain pounded relentlessly against the windows of the study, the occasional rumble of thunder reverberated off the glass paneling as if threatening to shatter it. The candle lit chamber seemed even more ominous with the elongated dark shadows playing sinisterly to the flickering flames and the blackened sky just barely visible through the drapes.
The demeanor of the dysfunctional trio seemed to mirror the conditions outside, with the exception of Reaver who seemed to be in rather high spirits. He perched cheerfully with one leg extended over the other upon the tawny divan that sat closest to the entryway. He fingered his extravagant cane with his hand while sending the occasional taunting smile at Logan who stood stiffly with his arms crossed by the fireplace before him, seemingly ignoring his provocation. Seraphina carefully watched Logan's facial expressions, waiting for his patience to collapse and for him to openly attack Reaver, if only to break the palpable silence.
The triad had been sitting in a tenuous reserve ever since Reaver had suggested they adjourn back to the study. Neither of the siblings had the energy or prior idea to argue, so instead they had followed his instruction and made themselves as comfortable as possible given the present situation. Yet no one seemed to have any conversation that could take place in front of the group as a whole, although plenty to say to each other individually without the nuisance of prying ears. This wholly extended to Reaver who sat thinking of which of the little wolves from the dyad pack he would separate first, although he only had particular interest in one. 'There are many different routes to the same destination, yet some are far more gratifying than others' He often told himself.
Seraphina herself was growing weary with the silence. The wind whipped branches scratching against the window and the cackling of the fireplace seemed to be her only audible company. Reaver seemed completely entranced with sending her brother jeering facial expressions, and Logan seemed hellbent on completely ignoring him to the point of tuning out absolutely everything while staring broodingly down at the slate embroidered rug beneath his feet. Seraphina tapped her heels impatiently, flickering her glances between Logan and Reaver and waiting for one of them to strike a conversation. This was bound to be a very long, very awkward night.
Surprisingly, it was Logan who broke the silence. "I believe that my sister and I are going to make our way to the library." He pushed away from the marbling of the fireplace.
"Oh, absolutely delightful. A trip to the atheneum." Reaver pushed himself off his own recliner, no doubt preparing to accompany them. Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Seraphina saw an opportunity and stopped him.
"It's quite alright, Logan. I believe I'll stay here and keep Lord Reaver company." The words hesitatingly left her mouth, and both Logan and Reaver alike looked toward her with total shock, although Logan's facial expressions were geared more toward concern, while Reaver's seemed pleasantly surprised as a sly smile came across his features.
It was several moments before Logan could bring himself to speak. "Sera, might I have a word with you?" He turned icily toward Reaver. "In private?" Reaver threw his hands innocently into the air, although failing miserably at hiding the smugly triumphant expression on his face. Seraphina nodded, and was no sooner yanked harshly through the door which was promptly shut by Logan's free hand. A high pitched chortle could be heard through the wood, though the siblings did their best to ignore it.
"What in Avo's name do you think you're doing?" He hissed, attempting to keep his voice down.
"Logan, if he accompanies us to the library, you'll never find what you're looking for." She placed her hands defiantly on her hips.
"I wasn't aware I had a task." He frowned, awaiting whatever misguided scheme she was dreaming up
"You do now. I'd be willing to bet that somewhere in that library is more on the information that we discussed earlier." She lowered her voice. "If what he said has any spark of truth to it, there should be at least one account of it in a book in that room. I'll keep his attention here, leaving you free to look without being scrutinized."
"I don't approve of this. Not in the slightest." He crossed his arms, his voice resembling what a fathers' might sound like. "I lock myself in the library constantly without his incessant company. I could simply do this later."
"Not for long. I'm going to subtly prod him on it tonight, but if he picks up on it, I don't know how many existing accounts will still be there afterward, assuming he wants this to remain a mystery. You need to get to them before he has them disposed of or hidden." She whispered.
"Is 'subtly' the keyword here? Because nothing you do is subtle." He arched his brow at her disapprovingly.
"Oh, and yanking me through the doorway like we have something to hide won't arouse his suspicions?" She crossed her arms and leaned forward defensively.
"We are hiding something!" His voice raised ever so slightly forming a raspy whisper as he threw his hands up in the air.
"Get out of here. Go! Get a move on!" She gave him a harsh shove down the hallway.
"The library is the other way, Seraphina." He turned on his heel and began walking the opposite direction boorishly, shaking his head at her. "I don't like this, not in the slightest, and for the record, I don't approve." He shook his head. "But you're an adult, and I'm trusting you to hold your ground while I'm gone and do your best to put him in the ground if something should happen. Don't disappoint me."
"Aye aye, Captain." She faked a solute in his direction. "I've bested a bandit king, fought off legions of hollowmen in Mourning Wood and led a revolution, but this'll be the one that gives me trouble. Your insight prowess is astounding." Her tone was reminiscent of the ones she had during childish qualms they used to get into as young siblings. He only rolled his eyes and gave her a stern look as he always did before continuing to tread the hallway until he was enveloped in the darkness.
Seraphina took a moment before re-entering Reaver's study, taking a brief few seconds to think of a tactful way to pry into Reaver's past. Logan's words held truth to them, she wasn't exactly subtle by any account. She did her best to keep a formal demeanor most times, but that didn't seem to do much to dull the side of her personality that absolutely detested skirting around the matter at hand. Tact had never been one of her strong suits. She relied on people like Page and Walter for matters like that, and with Walter gone and Page skulking around Bowerstone Sewers somewhere, she was on her own.
For a moment, she debated just outright asking him. Nothing ever seemed to actually anger him. He saw her insults and threats as mere child play, and never seemed to take them for anything more than a light chuckle. She couldn't even really picture him livid, so what was there to lose? Reaver was an egotistical narcissist, and never seemed more at home than when the subject was focused upon himself. If he had truly not wanted her to ask, why would he have mentioned it in the first place? Yet again, shortly after he brought up the subject, he quickly changed it. She concluded that it was a mere game to him, and games had to be played tactfully. He enjoyed getting into her head, so she would have to change the locks.
It surprised her just how little she knew about the man, although she had never technically thought on it much before. He had been around as far back as she could remember, but she never really thought much of him either until he became a hindrance in her way. She knew little of his business antics or anything that went on outside the castle walls until she made her escape that night with Walter and Jasper. Even knowing what she did now, it took her aback to realize quite how shrouded in mystery the tycoon was. No one seemed to know a damned thing about him except for that which was blatantly obvious. Getting into his head could prove difficult, or rather simple. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but there was only one way she could find out.
She slowly crept her fingers around the cool metal of the doorknob, hesitating slightly before pushing the heavy door back open. A burst of warmth from the fireplace hit her face as she looked into the room. She found Reaver standing in the exact same place he had been when she had stepped out, the flickering flames danced on the weathered wood inside the stone pit, casting exaggerating shadows across the room and his already darkened eyelids, giving him the impression that he was even more imposing than he already was. She flickered her eyes up at him and found his amber eyes were locked on hers in a strange and unreadable sort of stare. It sent an unfamiliar malicious shiver down her spine as she quickly looked away.
"Seems darker in here than it was before." She did her best to keep her voice calm, suppressing the oncoming anxiety that was flooding her system. Between the ominous surroundings, the conflict of tactical versus practical reeling in her head, and the mysterious, homicidal business man before her, this was definitely shaping to be more stressful than she had prepared for, and she had been prepared for a strenuous task.
"Yes, it seems that the candles have burnt out whist you and Logan took your small hiatus." There was a hint of mischief in his voice.
"Did they now? How very convenient." She purposefully turned from him to shut the door, avoiding his penetrating stare. He once again skirted the subject.
"It absolutely astounds me just how little someone's demeanor can change through the years. You've gone from child, to princess, to queen and yet when in the presence of those fortunate enough to invoke your comfort, you still act quite casual, and I use casual in the loosest form of the word. Yet, for whatever reason, you still attempt to portray the ceremonial and formal Queen to everyone else." She could practically feel his smirk radiating. "The facade is broken, my dear. Although it was a worthy bravado."
She turned to face him once again, leaning casually against the doorway and meeting his glower once again. "I found nothing particularly odd with my commentary."
He let out a small chuckle. "I was more referring to your banter with your sibling."
Even in the warmth of the room, Seraphina could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, an overwhelming blush overtaking her features. She was now slightly grateful that the lights had been dulled, gods damn her if Reaver were to see it. "You heard that did you?" She bit her lip, cursing her lack of forethought.
"You seem to underestimate my hearing. Being as uniquely talented an individual as I am, I find that acute hearing comes in handy in many situations." His grin deepened. "Although if it's any small consolation, any other person might not have heard you."
"Of course. Of course you did." She grunted, bringing her fingers to her temples again as she paced toward the fireplace, eventually taking root where her brother had stood before her.
"Oh, don't stress yourself, ma petite. It pains me so to look upon such a pretty little face with such a terribly strained expression." Something sparked in his expression. "After all, it's not your fault. Your mother should have warned you about all of my particular talents. All of them." His voice was unbearably arrogant.
"You know nothing of my mother, Reaver." She paused for a moment, deciding to take a chance. "Or do you?"
Reaver let out a vicious cackle, obviously amused at her ill disguised attempt. "Oh, my dear girl." He took several large, slow strides toward her, still allowing a few chuckles to pass. "I must admit that it charms me to see you claw your way through the tides of time searching for such things, although I regret to inform you that your brother shall find no such validation in my library. I'm afraid you have chosen to spend the remainder of your night in my company with little to show for your ulterior efforts." His words echoed with a dark underlying tone.
"Logan is bound to realize that sooner or later. He'll be back." As the words escaped her mouth, she wondered who she was actually attempting to convince.
"I wouldn't count on it." His words were simple, yet terrifying.
"Yeah? And why is that? You overheard our conversation, you know he thinks I'm absolutely mad. He'll be back to check on me." She crossed her arms.
"Check on you? Or check on me?" He gave her a small simper. "Either way, our young prince seemed so terribly tired when he left, did he not? He has no doubt had trouble sleeping, although I'm entirely sure that I can rectify the problem."
"Reaver, if you harm one hair on his head, I'll pluck your damned eyes out with my bare hands." She grabbed the color of his frilled shirt with one hand, glowering up at him.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. I was simply seeking to help an old friend with his insomnia and restless nights." The feigned innocence in his voice was far overshadowed by something darker. "I'm sure we can put the time to good use and get to know each other better." He entwined his cold, gloved hand around hers which was still wrapped up in his shirt and looked down on her once again. His golden eyes glistened and danced sinisterly in the fire light, peering into her and gazing into her very being. It was as if she was caught in a gravitational beam that refused to relinquish her. She could feel her heart beat quicken as he narrowed his eyes on hers, and the tenuous grip she held on his shirt started to weaken. Several moments passed before she was able to shake herself from his auriferous fixation.
"Don't do that!" She shoved him away from her, but his strength seemed like that of a boulder compared to hers.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, darling." He offered her a virginal smile.
"That damned stare of yours. It shuddersome and it creeps me out." She pushed herself closer to the wall and looked away from him.
"Shuddersome? I say, I've heard my attentions described as many things from the fairer sex, yet never shuddersome. Although I suppose I could expect no less from a girl who courted that light hearted and tedious noble boy some years back and never again since. What was his name? I cannot seem to recall." He spat out the words 'light hearted' as if it was an affront.
She felt a sharp pain in her stomach like the ones that happened when she thought of Walter. The intense feeling of loss and guilt overtook her, and she felt her entire body weighed down by it. "Elliott. His name was Elliott. And you'll never speak of him again." Her glance met the floor, afraid that if she looked up to meet his accusing stare, he might catch wind of her shame.
"Ah, young love. One never quite recovers from the prospect. Such a frivolous loss, what transpired that day. I dare say, I never could have forgiven Logan for that, yet here we are in this very situation! Who knows what that childish courtship could have blossomed into? Perhaps he could have sat by your side as King and you'd have crying, leaching little mites of your own. Yet it seems that here you are, alone in only my company in this most lavish of estates. Oh, what a terrible fate has befallen you." His sarcasm was palpable.
"It wasn't like that with Elliott." She said defensively, protecting the memories in her mind. "I mean... He wanted it to be, but I never saw him like that. He was my best friend, and we were young. His loss taught me that love is nothing but a liability."
"And who could blame you? He was nothing but a mere boy, incapable of defending himself, and so terribly naive. For a warrioress such as yourself, you would need a mate with equal skill." He pronounced his last words carefully.
"It wasn't his fault. It was my decision, and I chose the people. It was what he wanted." She let out a sigh, swallowing the pain clawing its way up her throat.
"So young and foolish. Doesn't anybody learn that in the end, all we have is ourselves? To sacrifice one's vitality and youth so freely is beyond me, especially for the sake of rabble." He spoke distastefully. "Oh well, nothing can be done now. You would do well to remove your gaze from the past and look at what is placed before you, little Seraphina."
She was taken back when she heard him say her name. He purred it into her ear, exaggerating every syllable in some foreign accent. Reaver had never spoken her name before. He was always calling her those ridiculous pet names like 'dear', 'darling', and 'my Queen'. Something in the way he spoke it was unlike anything she had ever quite heard. Over the course of her life, her name had been stated many times by many people. Loudly, proudly, angrily, scoldingly, and even lovingly, yet never quite like this. Something in his voice was a little too intimate and husky. It was a strange sensation.
The color rose to her cheeks again and should she have pushed any harder against the wall, she might well have molded into it. Reaver seemed to take delight from her discomfort, his mind endlessly taking mental notes of her behavior. Her words from earlier rang true, and as she had grown to feel that love itself was nothing but a liability, she had paid little attention to the oncomings of unwelcome advances paid to her by people who saw themselves as her potential suitors. Reaver's however were becoming increasingly harder to ignore. She felt especially uncomfortable in the situation because she had little knowledge on how to deflect them, and instead was stuck simply turning herself from them and ignoring the odd feelings they gave her. Even she was aware that this wouldn't work for long.
"You shouldn't waste your precious time planning these things out." He spoke, as if reading her mind. His voice was quiet and smooth. "You really must learn to live in the moment, or you'll be stuck as what you are forever."
"And what am I, Reaver? A monarch? Leader of a nation? Daughter of a Hero Queen? A savior? In which one of those titles will I be stuck?" She sneered.
"Trapped, my dear. Surrounded by people who leech off of your successes and fame. Living day to day for everyone else but yourself. A tigress caged inside castle walls longing for the freedom of the open road. Your mother was a gypsy, and her blood courses through your veins. It was that longing for freedom that eventually took her to an early grave, and it shall take yours too, make no mistake. Your mother was never more radiant and alive than when she held a gun in one hand and a sword in the other, and that same triumph permeates within you as well." He gently caressed her cheek. "You will become a dulled inferno amongst candles until you eventually extinguish. Such a pity."
She tried to deny what he spoke, but deep down she knew the truth of it. Life at the castle had become monotonous, and despite the fact that she was an accomplished fighter, everyone treated her as if she was a porcelain doll. She had no freedom, no time to herself, and certainly had taken no adventures since her first sitting on the throne. Her road to the throne had been long, treacherous and adventurous, and she had gotten so caught up in the journey that she had neglected to prepare for the destination.
"There you go, talking about my mother again." She shifted uncomfortably. "Why is it that you know more about her than I do? How is that possible?" There was a hint of jealousy in her voice.
"All in due time, my dear. I have no doubt that a persistent little one such as yourself shall indeed find the answers you seek, no matter where they might lie. Yet I grow restless of all this formality and I am far past due for my nightcap." He turned his head to face the door. "Barry, if you please?"
It was only seconds before the hobbling butler made his way into the room, struggling with a large bottle of wine and two glasses, seemingly focused on not dropping anything, which appeared to be rather tough. He made his way toward the desk in the back of the room, carefully placing the wine bottle and glasses consecutively. Seeming rather pleased with himself, he turned toward Reaver and gave him what she imagined was supposed to be a sly smile. Seraphina suddenly felt very self conscious of the closeness in proximity that Reaver was to her. "Is thew anything else I can do, Masta Weava?"
"Indeed not, Barry. You are free to retire to your pit now. Rest assured I shall call upon you otherwise." Reaver waved him off. Barry gave a low, lopsided bow and exited with a sinister crack on his face. Reaver proceeded to mosey over toward the desk, pouring two generous glasses. He motioned one toward her, offering it up as he took a deep swig from his own.
"Oh no, not this time. I know how you operate, you sly bastard." She shook her head vigorously.
"Well, if that's true, then you shall certainly know how to avoid a repeat fumble like last time. I assure you, I'm not relinquishing my nightly drink for the likes of you, so rest assured that I shall be taking in equal consumption." He chuckled darkly. "Besides, the night is young, and I know you're quite the night prowler. Drinking alone can be quite the sour experience."
She hesitated a moment before speaking, looking at the wine with unmistakable longing. "Fine, but one slip up on your part, and I'll decorate this wall with your sinews." She treaded carefully toward the table, her glare never leaving him.
"Yes, yes, as I've been told many times before. Yet, seeing as you're going to be here a while, I figure that you might as well get comfortable. I myself always found that it's much easier to get comfortable with this particular nectar." He took another deep swig before placing his chalice on the table and promptly removing his ivory coat, carefully strewing at across the back of the chair placed behind the oak desk. It gave her a rather peculiar feeling to see him without his trademark coat across his shoulders. He suddenly looked much more naked even though he was still very much clothed with his earth colored vest and ebony business shirt. It was as if an entire layer of him had been stripped.
"What are you staring at? My, if I would have known that it only took a single layer of clothing removal to arouse your interest, I might have done this sooner." He prodded her playfully.
"Oh, sod off. It's just odd, that's all." She rolled her eyes.
"Well, feel absolutely free to remove your jacket as well. Although, seeing as you don't have one, you should feel free to remove your top. I doubt it shall disturb anyone, present company included, of course." He flashed her a mischievous grin.
"Oh dear Avo." She smacked her palm to her forehead. "Haven't even taken a sip yet and off you go like a damn race chicken." She picked up the chalice and took a few suspicious sips.
"Oh my dear Sera, you must learn to carpe diem." He took another deep swallow of his glass, staring at her challengingly.
"I'll seize your damn neck is what I'll seize." She ponied up to the challenge, taking a small swallow of her own.
"Even better." Reaver gave her a suggestive look.
"This is going to be a long bloody night." Seraphina took her glass and swallowed heavily.