Avarice
Chapter 25: Little Red
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free
Mumford & Sons – Awake My Soul
The area around her eyes was darker.
And her skin was... paler, somehow, as though Wraithmarsh had drained the sun from it in the past few days.
Naveena stood in front of the mirror in The Leper's Arms, hands braced on both sides of the sink, peering into her slightly warped reflection. The woman that stared back resembled her mother more than it resembled her, forgetting of course the fiery ringlets that Sparrow had always been so proud of. Naveena's hair was getting longer however, shaggier and wavier around the sides. Perhaps she would let it grow out, and make sure that she no longer resembled herself at all. She didn't want to look like herself.
Because herself had just done an incredibly terrible thing.
Naveena splashed her face with water, the coolness enhanced by the almost wintry air within the room. The window was, of course, frosted with fog, making it seem almost drearier and colder than it actually was. It was time for her to return home, finally. Naveena found herself almost aching for the familiarity of the castle, even the horrid workload and the stiff, uncomfortable throne. She even missed the constant nagging of Hobson.
Now that was a weird sentiment.
She wondered how she was going to be able to face her subjects, face Walter, Elliot and all of them now. After she'd partaken in what she had done? Naveena sighed, and dried her face and hands dry, almost vigorously, as though attempting to get rid of something she knew very well she could never get rid of.
There was a timid knock at her door, which startled her.
"Can I come in?" It was Alden, the tavern-keeper.
Naveena let out a second breathy sigh and moved to open the door. And there was Alden, holding a tray of frosted rolls and a pot of tea. The two of them moved to the single, small splinter-ridden table in the corner, growing like a mushroom in the shadows of the room. Reaver was, at the moment, recollecting his possessions from his former mansion in this place, leaving Naveena to her lonesome, which she would have appreciated had it been anyone other than Reaver doing so.
Not a single word had passed between the two of them since they'd come back from the Shadow Court. She had nothing to say, and neither did he. Naveena was still struggling with the fact that she had essentially murdered someone. The very thought of it, even now, chilled her to the bones.
Alden poured himself and her a cup of tea when they sat down. Naveena took hers with two sugars and Alden took his with four which surprised her because he did not seem like a person with a sweet tooth.
"You seem different," he said after taking a sip of tea. "After seeing the Warithmarsh."
Naveena stared into her tea, peering into her reflection, at the areas around her eyes which seemed like bruised circles.
"It… was a harrowing experience." She whispered.
"Your mother said the same thing when she returned." Alden smiled slightly, eyes vividly gray as they twinkled.
"how did you know her?"
Alden whistled, "Way back, fifty years ago, she she stayed here, in the Leper's Arms. Looking for Reaver, actually, looking to fight Lucien. Fiercest woman I'd ever met, one of the few I'd seen travel through Wraithmarsh and come out with all their screws in place." Here, he smiled. "Most beautiful woman I'd ever met, too."
Here, Alden looked away slyly, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks, "Aye... that woman was a marvel. Me and maybe every other man in Albion was envious of your Pa when they got married. He'd certainly gotten a good deal."
Naveena frowned, her father Lloyd, had always spoken of her mother before Sparrow's passing. It was after the funeral, after the eulogy in which Walter stood and spoke of Heroes and battles and places filled with violence and war, when Lloyd never spoke of Sparrow again. She'd wondered if he had blamed himself, for her death.
"He loved her because she was strong." Naveena said,in clipped tones. Her fingers clenched tightly around the chipped handle of the old, old mug. "Not because she was beautiful."
"Aye, course." Alden murmured, softly, as though treading upon careful ground. "I didn't mean to offend you, Your Majesty."
"He..." Naveena shifted uneasily in the wooden chair. It was nothing like the chairs they had in the Castle. There was no cushion, or anything like the sort. "My father... he didn't talk about her after she... passed."
"Everyone mourned her passing." Alden smiled, nodding. His smile made Naveena smile, too, an unsure, cautious smile. "For a Hero like Sparrow, to die so young..."
Naveena took a sip of the tea through pursed lips. It was very weak tea, a little watery, and nothing like the tea that Jasper made. Well, it was unfair to compare the two. The tea that Jasper made was on a level all of its own.
"Reaver said someone had tried to poison her." Naveena wasn't exactly sure why she was telling Alden this, but he seemed trustworthy. Alden had this... air about him. A sort of charismatic goodness that made Naveena want to trust him. "I don't exactly trust him but... the idea does bother me."
Alden looked incredibly uncomfortable, a split-second of which crossed his face and twisted his lips.
"Hmm... well, that's politics for you. People forget their humanity when trying to get what they want. They forget that there's more out there 'cept for themselves and their own ideals."
"So you think... she was poisoned?" Naveena's fingers tightened very, very tightly around the handle of the cup, her hands shaking ever so slightly. "And that that person is... still out there?"
"Vengeance is a funny thing, Your Majesty." Alden told her, taking another sip from his cup of tea. "There are a lot of people who lost their family members to your mother's decision in the Spire. And a vengeance like that of whoever poisoned your mother... well, that's something that tears a person from the inside."
"I... yes, you're right I suppose." Naveena placed the cup back down on the table with a clack, and eagerly took one of the frosted cakes from the plate in the middle. She found it incredibly hard to eat, or swallow. "But... perhaps it would be impudent to not look into this. There is a chance that their vengeance does not end with my mother. Logan and I may be next on the chopping block, if that is the case."
Alden let out a noncommittal grunt, "Yes. I don't dare argue that."
Naveena folded her hands neatly in her lap, staring down at the tea and the plate, feeling almost... empty as she did so. As though there were a giant hole right in the middle of her chest. She stood, feeling very heavy, and said to Alden,
"Thank you for the tea, and hearing me out."
"Well, you're very welcome." Alden smiled toothily at her, looking very much like a cat who'd caught the canary. "I don't imagine many people listen to the Queen of Albion's thoughts and complaints."
Naveena chuckled, an empty, hollow chuckle, "More so than you may think, Alden."
She thought of Elliot. And even Reaver. As well as Walter, and Jasper.
Naveena turned to leave the room, and as her hand touched the doorknob, she heard Alden say,
"And Your Majesty?"
She stopped, and turned to look at him. "Yes?"
"Don't let Reaver stray you from the path."
It was one of the few times that her mother ever told her stories.
Walter had always been the story-teller, the bringer of gallant tales of good versus evil, and the triumph of the latter and the former. The holder of an oral biography with which Naveena could use to shape her mother to her will.
When Sparrow told stories, they were always cautionary tales.
Naveena always, always remembered the tale of Little Red Riding Hood most vividly.
When Sparrow tucked her into bed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Naveena waited eagerly for her nightly story. She wondered what kind of story her mother would tell her. Although Naveena had hoped for Walter to be there, so she could hear how the tale of the Crucible had ended and how her mother had triumphed as the champion of that occasion, she was more excited to see what kind of creative story her mother would pull out. Her mother was infinitely more creative in the art of weaving words, while Walter was more creative in terms of plot and description.
"Veena," Sparrow murmured, lighting the candle next to her nightstand. "Would you like to hear the story of Little Red Riding Hood and The Wolf?"
"Yes, mama." Naveena had replied, sleepily, shifting restlessly beneath her warm blankets.
Sparrow sat in the chair beside Naveena's bed, and after a long moment in which Sparrow took the time to think about what to say, she began,
"Well, once upon a time, there was a girl who was considered the prettiest girl in all of Albion. Her mother loved her very much, and her grandmother doted over her constantly."
"Mama," Said Naveena, interrupting. "Do I have a grandmother?"
Sparrow paused, and there was a moment where she looked as though she were in physical pain.
Tactfully, she said, "You did, once. Now don't interrupt."
"One day, her mother made the girl a long cloak made out of the most beautiful red fabric. When she moved, the cloak moved like water, and when she touched it, it felt as though it were made out of silk. The girl liked the cloak so much that she wore it all the time, earning herself the name of Little Red Riding Hood."
Naveena shifted again, as Sparrow took a breath.
"Her mother, having made some cakes, told the girl to take a few to her grandmother, who lived deep in the forest. Little Red Riding Hood, excited at the prospect of getting to explore the forest, eagerly accepted the task. However, before she left, her mother told her not to stray from the path in the woods, because within the forest there was a vicious, bad wolf."
"I've never seen a wolf," Said Naveena. "What do they look like?"
"Like Ace," Sparrow gestured to the collie, which was lying at the foot of bed. The puppy's ears pricked when he heard his name, but he made no motion to get up. "Only with sharp, yellow teeth and ragged, horrible fur."
"Oh."
"Little Red Riding Hood set out immediately, and went through the forest. However, she did not heed her mother's words. She trailed off the path that very nearly everyone took, and went through the forest, pausing constantly to take everything in."
Sparrow smiled, slightly, and then, "It was then, that she met The Wolf."
Reaver's previous mansion was the largest house in Bloodstone, of which ostentatious would be only a mild description. It looked very old, however. Some of the paint was peeling off and the plants in the garden were wilting. It had taken Naveena awhile to find the place, actually, through the ever-thickening fog, which didn't bode well for her already wrecked nerves.
Eventually, however, she did find it. Naveena opened the doors, which creaked heavily as they moved, and walked inside, feet kicking up layers upon layers of dust as she did so. Cobwebs were nestled in the dank, shadowy corners of the room, carving out homes in this long since abandoned place. Naveena eyed them warily, having never liked spiders.
She followed the footsteps in the dust, noting that Reaver had an unsurprisingly long and languid gait, and that he had also at some point recovered his cane from the ship. She found Reaver eventually in what appeared to have once been a living room, sorting through various trinkets.
"Reaver." She breathed, cautiously. Reaver didn't even look up at her, although he did say, uncaringly,
"Well, come crawling out of your hidey-hole I see." Reaver picked up what appeared to be a very expensive golden statue of an angel. "I suspected you'd be wallowing in guilt for awhile longer, ma belle! What a devious heart you hide so dearly, to feel nothing for the life you ended. I must say, I quite admire that."
The half-compliment, half-insult passed by her without a reaction.
"I..." She paused. "I have a kingdom to save. My life is more..." Important. Greater. Better. "Valued than that of a..." Whore. Idiot. Fool. "Of someone who..." Deserved it. Got what was coming to them. "Does not know the Darkness as well as I. Who would not deign to sacrifice so much to save the kingdom."
Reaver chuckled darkly, "Ah, well I take it back. You aren't nearly as devious as I had thought, which really is a shame. I was hoping we, you and I, could put that evil little mind of yours to much more pleasurable activities..."
"No." She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, wildly, like a bird attempting ferociously to claw its way out. "This... affair of ours has gone on long enough. It's ending."
Reaver placed the statuette into a box, and said, "I was getting bored of you, ma belle. I've no care for any... entertainment you may provide, at least not anymore." Reaver laughed, highly, "Well, it was fun while is lasted, eh?"
"That's it?" Naveena hissed, crossly. "You don't even care?"
"Should I?" Reaver was now playing with a snowglobe, shaking it and watching as the small specks of 'snow' flew around a tiny village. "Your Majesty, after everything we have been through together, for you to not realize nor remember just who you are dealing with! Tu n'as pas honte!"
Naveena did not know what to say to that. She stood there, in the dusty ex-living room, watching as Reaver placed his curios and odds and ends in various containers. He now seemed to completely ignore her, as if she were a spider on one of the various cobwebs in the house.
"I'll be on the ship." She whispered, after a short while. She moved to leave, pausing abruptly at the doorframe. "And I should have known better, Reaver, than to think you anything but what you really are."
"And what am I, meurtrier?"
"A monster."
And she walked out.
"Oh no!" Whispered Naveena, looking up at her mother. "What happened next?"
"The Wolf approached Little Red Riding Hood, at first with the intent to swallow her up, but he didn't because of some woodcutters that lived nearby. So instead, being a sly old wolf, he spoke to her. He told her good day, asked her where she was going, and if she needed help getting there."
"She should have listened to her mama." Said Naveena, her big blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight.
"Indeed. Anyway, Little Red Riding Hood, who thought the Wolf polite in his manners, thought that her mother was wrong in her assessment of the Wolf. And so, she told him that she was headed to her grandmother's house. She told him that she was to bring her grandmother the cakes in her basket.
And the Wolf asked Little Red Riding Hood if her grandmother lived far off. Little Red Riding Hood told him that her grandmother's house was the only one in the entire wood, and that it was secluded and alone. The Wolf then came up with a cunning plan. He invited Little Red Riding Hood to a race. He would take one path, and she another, and they would see who got there first. Little Red Riding Hood, who enjoyed games, accepted."
"But why?" Naveena asked. "That seems dumb."
"Let's just say that Little Red Riding Hood was none-too-bright, shall we?"
She couldn't shake the feeling she had, even as she sat in the room Reaver had given her for the ship. Shakily, Naveena opened a glass of wine, and not even caring to pour it in a glass, she drank straight from the long neck of the bottle. She could almost feel everything inside of her just beating on the inside of her skull with little hands, screaming to be let out.
A monster?
She was a monster.
Naveena took a drink again, grimacing as the liquid went down. This wine was especially dry, and seemed to crawl down the throat with the gait of several smashed spiders.
Guilt. Anger. Sorrow. Betrayal. Hatred. All of it was gouging pathways inside of her, carving niches in her very being.
Naveena wondered just how big a fool she really was. She had known, from the get-go, from the very first time she had expressed even a smidgen of interest in Reaver that this, all of this, was a very bad idea. Emphasis on the very bad idea part of that sentence.
What a fool she was.
Slowly, Naveena began to cry. It began with a choking sound, and the feeling of an itchy throat. And then, the tears just came, suddenly. Her mind felt fried, overloaded with everything that she had heard from not only Reaver, but Alden as well.
She cried for a very long time.
"So the Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood when their separate ways down separate paths. Unfortunately for Little Red Riding Hood, the Wolf had chosen the quickest path, knowing the woods as well as the back of his hand, and he had arrived at the grandmother's home first. And so, pretending to be her granddaughter, the Wolf was allowed entrance into the home and he ate the grandmother, took her clothes, and inherited her identity."
Naveena gasped, eyes widening, fingers tugging the edge of her bedsheets above the bridge of her nose. Sparrow nodded, grimly.
"Yes, the Wolf was planning to trick Little Red Riding Hood."
"But why?" Naveena asked, eyebrows furrowing. "Why is the Wolf so mean, mama?"
"Because he had been so cruel for so long, that it was in his nature, Veena. He forgot what it was like to be nice, to have friends and people that cared about him. He was an old, old wolf, who had forgotten his mama, his friends, his wife, all of which who had died so very long ago."
"That's awful, mama." Naveena said, frowning cutely. "I'd be nice to him!"
Sparrow chuckled, "Would you? Even if he had threatened to eat you up?"
"Everyone deserves a friend."
"I see." Sparrow smiled, and ran a hand through her hair, tucking curly bangs behind her ears. "Well, Little Red Riding Hood arrived at her grandmother's house, finally, and knocked on the door, twice. The Wolf, mimicking her grandmother's voice, asked who was at the door and Little Red Riding Hood, believing the Wolf to be her grandmother, said that it was her at her grandmother's door.
"The Wolf, making his voice even softer to sound even more like her grandmother, told her to enter, and Little Red Riding Hood did. The Wolf hid himself underneath the bed sheets, and as Little Red Riding Hood approached, she gasped in surprise. 'Why grandmother,' she said. 'What big arms you have!'"
"Mama," Naveena pursed her lips. "Little Red Riding Hood is really stupid!"
Sparrow chuckled, her laughter ringing throughout the bedroom, "Indeed, Veena! I very much agree! But anyway, the Wolf answered her, 'All the better to hug you with, my dear'."
"And then Little Red Riding Hood said, 'Why grandmother, what big eyes you have!' And the Wolf answered her, grinning, 'All the better to see with, my dear'."
Naveena shook her head.
"Finally, Little Red Riding Hood said, 'Grandmother... why... what big teeth you have!'"
Naveena leaned forward, watching her mother with unmoving eyes.
"And The Wolf said, 'All the better to eat you up with, my dear'."
Eventually Reaver was on the ship and they were setting sail from foggy Bloodstone once more, and headed home. Naveena had stood on the deck of the ship, with Reaver beside her, and the two of them watched as the foggy village disappeared into something indecipherable on the horizon line.
The silence between the two of them stretched on, and then she said, "I think we should talk."
Reaver regarded her with a very bored sort of look, his arched eyebrows high up on his forehead, half-hidden by perfectly styled bangs. Naveena kept her face forward, watching the tide as it pushed and pulled, listened to the almost distant sound of the seagulls.
"Whatever about, meurtrier?" He said, voice thick with disinterest. It almost amazed her how quickly he'd gone from having fun with her to having so much doldrums over her very presence.
"In the Wraithmarsh," She felt her body tense at the very mention of the name, and she had to force herself to calm down. "You mentioned something about my mother. About her being... poisoned. You know something, don't you?"
It was easier, for her, to talk about this than anything else that was festering between them.
Even Reaver seemed surprised, because his eyebrows raised even higher and he grinned, "Well, haven't you become interesting yet again! To think, you take rejection with such grace, such apathy! You certainly are not your mother's daughter, meurtrier!"
"Just answer the question." Naveena hissed, forcefully, her teeth clenched.
"All business are we now?" Reaver tutted, shaking his head, though the corners of his smile were curled almost wolfishly, exposing perfect white teeth. "Anyone with at least half the intelligence of someone like myself would know your mother was poisoned."
"By who?" Naveena gripped the railing of the ship. The seagulls were very distant now. "You know something, don't you?"
"Nothing!" Reaver chortled, jovially. "When there are so many devious little minds out there, the cutting down of a list of culprits is quite difficult, I'm afraid, Your Majesty."
Naveena glared at him, her gaze lingering for several seconds before she turned her head away, narrowing blue eyes at the equally blue sea.
Finally, she said, "I'm going to find who killed my mother." Then she looked at him, with eyes that could have cut diamonds. "And if it was you Reaver, so help me..."
"Well, you will have no need to worry, meurtrier! I had better things to do than monopolize my wealth and power by killing our dear old Hero Queen!"
"Then you shouldn't mind it when I take the time to sort through everything of yours. Your business files, your personal files..." Threatened Naveena, watching Reaver for any hint of a reaction.
Reaver shrugged, "Go ahead, Your Majesty. I've certainly nothing to hide."
And then he left her to watch the sea by herself.
"And, saying these words, the wicked Wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood and ate her all up."
So, I feel as though I should say something about this chapter. I don't like it at fucking all. So if the writing is not on par with the rest of Avarice, the reason is because I didn't feel like writing this. It'll get better, though. We're finally out of the Wraithmarsh and Avarice is 2/3 of the way done.
Also, as you may have noticed, Reaver has stopped calling Naveena ma belle. Now it's meurtrier, the meaning of which, in French, is very ironic considering the circumstances. It is like this to portray the, at the moment, antagonistic relationship between Reaver and Naveena. And no, the relationship does not end here, in case any of you were wondering.
On a final note, I'd like to direct you to very talented artist on DeviantArt: Celestialess. She does Fable 3 artwork. More specifically, Reaver artwork.
Here are a few of my personal favorites of hers: (Some of these links may be a little effed, if so just search for Celestialess on google)
http:/ / deviantart . Com/ art /Have-A-Valentines-Reaver- 197553298?q =gallery%3Acelestialess% 2F29081628&qo =77
http:/ /celestialess .deviantart . com/art /Don-t-Say-No-186961660?q= gallery%3 Acelestialess%2F29081628&qo =106
http:/ / deviantart . com /art/Don-t-Ask-Me -To-Do-That-Again- 272738154?q =gallery%3Acelestialess%2 F9940121&qo=17
Feedback is appreciated~!