A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter nineteen. It hurts knowing that I'm on the home stretch of this. Only seven chapters left to go, before I get to finally scratch this one off and mark it as complete. It has been a very fun ride, even though this fandom is dead as a doornail.
Dark Desires
Summary: When Reaver is bored in the throne room waiting for the king, he and the princess, Annabel, have a talk about her one day taking the throne. He didn't expect to help her in a bloody coup.
*Hail the Queen*
Annabel looked up from her newly acquired royal garb to see that Sir Walter and Jasper had entered the royal chamber. The old soldier snapped crisp to attention and Jasper knelt down in front of her, holding the crown she had coveted so much over the course of this little rebellion.
"My lady, it is my honour to bestow to you, the queen of Albion, the royal crown." Jasper offered it to her and the new queen accepted it, letting it sit on her head. "And if I may, madam, I would very much like to continue serving you as I once did your mother."
"Thank you, Jasper," Annabel replied swiftly. "You may. Sir Walter, how are the preparations for the trial proceeding? Are we still due for this morning?"
"Yes, your majesty." Walter bowed his head. "Logan is still pleading for his life in the prisons. I don't see a way out of it for him. He's hurt our country too severely to get away with it. Too much bloodshed on his hands for him to weasel out of. I'll send word to the men to drag him to the throne room when you wish to begin."
"Excellent." Annabel let out a purr and picked up her katana, tying it to her belt to dangle from. "We'll begin immediately then. It is merely the beginning of what is sure to be a busy day in the court." She wasn't lying, either. Representatives from all across Albion, including a few from Oakfield and Westcliff had come to swear their allegiance to their new queen and see their former king hang from the gallows for his crimes.
'Once all that tosh is done, the first thing we need to do is build our army again and bring about new means of industrialisation. Something Reaver should enjoy very much, though I don't expect him to be pleased about the laws that will have to be passed to keep the gold flowing and the peasants pleased. Bloody imbeciles, the lot of them. If I wasn't so focused on getting their support, I'd do away with them.' Annabel rolled her eyes and began to pace back and forth in her quarters. Jasper and Walter had both left her to see about their tasks, and the queen began to run through several ideas on whom to appoint to key positions of power.
Reaver, undoubtedly, would retain his position as the kingdom's financial advisor. No one in Albion had a better knack for making money than him, so why remove him from the position? Doing so would be preposterous. Still, with Jasper being the royal steward and Walter training the men, she would need another advisor. Hobson, maybe? Even though he was ghastly to look at and his voice made her fall asleep, he was very good at toadying, time management, and public relations. He'd do fine setting up court meetings and other matters, so she'd speak to him about becoming her own assistant to help her manage her time better.
'No one knows about my relationship with Candace, so maybe I can get away with putting her as the head stewardess. She gets her tasks done efficiently and effectively. On the other hand, her inexperience might put a dampener on things. No, Jones will be sufficient for now as long as he doesn't lay a hand on her pretty head. Perhaps he can take her as an assistant?' She pursed her lips at the thought. All Candace lacked to be put into a more prominent role in the castle was experience. With the right mentor, however, she'd flourish into someone they looked up to. 'I'll wait for her to be more prepared for the role as opposed to just throwing her into the fire.' It would take time, but it was the smart move to do.
Annabel was interrupted from her thoughts by a soldier entering the royal chamber, clad in the steel plate armour of a veteran officer of Logan's elite guard. "Ma'am. The false king has been escorted to the throne room. We're waiting for your arrival."
"Very well." Annabel stretched her arms above her head and glided down the stairs, glancing in the throne room and seeing that quite an audience had gathered. Representatives, nobles, and normal citizens alike were all waiting anxiously for her arrival and the queen chuckled at the sight of her older brother in irons. His ankles and wrists were chained up to prevent any means of escape and she entered the throne room, basking in the applause from the audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the queen!" Walter announced, earning a roar of approval from those attending the trial. Annabel ignored the desperate plea in Logan's eyes and took her seat on the throne, preparing to make history.
Walter turned to Logan once the applause died down, and he cleared his throat to get the attention of everyone. "Logan, former king of Albion, you stand accused of crimes against Albion and her people. The queen brought you to face justice, but we will hear the testimony of those who aided her."
The representative from Brightwall stood up, smirking at the shamed king. "Logan, your harsh taxes had nearly put us on the brink of total collapse. Many died by the hands of your own soldiers. Aren't they supposed to protect the people instead of oppress them? If it weren't for the cunning and quick thinking of her grace, we'd be starving right now."
He sat back down and Reaver took his place, giving a subtle wink to Annabel. The queen purred as her lover was next to express his grievances. "Logan, Logan, Logan. You, my good sir, are nothing more than a mere shadow of a tyrant. You passed a law allowing snotty little indigents to work in my factories in the capital's industrial sector. Child labour, in this day and age. Such a pity. It is a good thing that your sister and I are already making plans to change this country's labour laws to make them more efficient; with your barbaric policies we were on the verge of a bloody economic collapse. How are we to face threats when we are too poor to pay our soldiers?"
"I had damn good reason for the crimes you claim I'm guilty of!" Logan snarled in defiance. "When I returned from Aurora all those years ago, I received a visit from a blind seer. Theresa, our mother's guide. She warned me that the darkness in those caves is coming here, bringing death, destruction, the end of our very way of life! The choices I made...I did it to protect us! If a few had to suffer, it was to build an army. If a few had to die, it was to save the country. Annabel, please...spare me and all my soldiers will be yours to command. I've spent years preparing for the attack. We need to fight this darkness together!"
Annabel let out a soft chuckle and before she realised it, she was laughing loud enough for everyone in the throne room to hear. "Oh, darling brother, you're already too late. Your men already swore themselves to me the moment they received word that I was now on the throne. Sir Walter here has made contact with the Swift Brigade and their officers are stepping up recruitment, taking anyone who volunteers with promises of fair pay. I'm aware of the threat, Logan. And I can assure you that by the time it comes, we will not only hold our own, but we will rid the world of the threat. You cannot escape the consequences of your decisions."
Taking a deep breath and looking him straight in the eye, she gave her verdict. "I sentence you...to death."
"NO!" Logan screamed, shaking his bound hands in despair as the crowd roared in approval, many whistling and cheering her decision. "You can't!"
"I can...and I will." The queen smiled coldly and glanced over to the elite soldier standing rigid to the right of the throne. "Kill him. And make sure there's nothing left to bury. We will begin this new age in earnest."
"As you command, my lady." The soldier saluted and snapped his fingers to summon two more to assist him in taking Logan away for his execution. The former king was still pleading for his life, throwing his hands up in some sort of futile resistance. He screamed and begged for them to show mercy as he was dragged away from the throne room, that he had done what was necessary to ensure the overall safety and wellbeing of the kingdom. But his cries were drowned out by the thunderous applause of the court and no one wanted to hear him plead.
Once the doors slammed shut behind Logan and the men guarding him, Annabel held up a hand to silence the masses. "Spread the word throughout the land. The execution of the former king will be a public event that all can bear witness to if they so desire. In the meantime, rid Albion of his tainted presence. Any statue commemorating a tyrant has no place in our kingdom. We will show the darkness in Aurora that we will not go quietly into the night!"
With the crowd roaring its approval before filing out of the throne room, she leaned to Walter, beckoning the old soldier to her side. "Do whatever you deem necessary to fortify Albion's defences. If we can't stop the darkness from coming, we have to be ready for when it comes."
"Agreed, your majesty." Walter nodded solemnly. "In the meantime, you may need to appoint an official commander of the Albion Army. May I suggest Major Swift?" The commanding officer of the Swift Brigade, Major Jack Swift, was a veteran soldier who had fought alongside the queen's very mother to unite Albion after Lord Lucien's downfall. He was experienced, a master tactician, and a good leader that men and women looked up to. His charisma would go a long way towards recruitment for the army they would need.
"Yes, Swift will be a fine general." Annabel snapped her fingers to get the attention of Hobson, one of the aides she had acquired from Logan. "Hobson! Bring me my pen and the good parchment."
"Are we...writing a letter, my lady?" the old advisor asked warily.
"Yes. To Major Swift. It is time that I mend the bridge Logan has burned with him," she answered smoothly. "Anything else for the court today?"
"Yes, I'm afraid," Hobson admitted. "We need to decide the annual guard budget and whether or not to introduce a complete outlaw on alcohol. Some high ranking members of society believe that it causes all sorts of nasty behaviours."
Annabel hummed. The treasury was filling up quite nicely thanks to a few schemes she had pulled off when Logan was still king. The admission fees to Brightwall Academy and the child fines were pulling their weight in gold, as was the reopening of Pepperpot Mine. With crime rates currently at an all time low thanks to Nigel Ferret's demise, forcing more soldiers into the cities than needed was a sure way to make the people be reminded of the darkest times of Logan's rule.
"Keep the guard budget and our limits on how much alcohol one can purchase in a day," she answered. "I suspect things here will be a lot more difficult in coming weeks and they'll require my full attention." She took the pen and paper offered to her and began writing her letter to the established major.
'I don't give a damn what the darkness thinks they can do to us. I will ensure Albion's survival. This is my home, my land, and we will fight with everything we've got to show the world that we are more than a barely held together kingdom. We are a new power.'
With her letter to Swift completed, she put her official stamp on it to show it was a royal decree and she handed the letter to her advisor. Hobson scurried away to see that it was delivered to its recipient on time and the queen slouched down in her throne.
Walter also departed to begin training soldiers at once, leaving her with the high ranking representatives from Westcliff and Oakfield to deal with. "Now, gentlemen, we have some time to ourselves. I hear that Oakfield has an interesting proposition for me?"
"Yes." A middle class man with short hair and messy beard stepped forward, bowing in respect. "Your majesty, we in Oakfield were relieved to hear that you had become our new queen. Under Logan's rule, he had destroyed the bridge connecting our fair town to Bowerstone, forcing us to resort to using ships to transport our goods instead of quicker carriages. We may be simple and honest folk, but we provide an excellent source of food and livestock and we'd be only too happy to share it with the rest of your kingdom."
"I'll see the bridge be repaired at once. Griffith Smith of the Albion Restoration Society will oversee the construction to make sure that we don't miss out on any potential resources," the queen said with a purr. "Do not fret; Logan was a cold and cruel tyrant, sacrificing others for his own gain. Oakfield is part of this kingdom and will be treated as such. My generosity also extends to those in Westcliff."
Westcliff had come far in the past sixty years. It used to be a dump filled with nothing but brawlers and thugs. The only thing of any worth was the Crucible, an arena that attracted the best fighters in the land after the Witchwood Arena had been destroyed. Now, with the help of both her mother and one of Albion's most brilliant inventors, it was a respectable village that had been cleansed of its ruffian issues and instead attracted the more civilised person. The Crucible was still active and those who won the deadly competition could potentially be drafted into the elite guard should it be necessary. More importantly, though, it also contained the second largest seaport outside of Bowerstone. Building a naval base there would offer more protection to Albion's shores.
"We would be honoured to be a part of your kingdom, your majesty." Westcliff's representative bowed his head gratefully. "And we will stand with you against the oncoming darkness."
The queen smiled. They would be foolish to not accept her offer. Both sides would benefit in the long run of things. Westcliff's port would bring goods to the rest of the kingdom and the naval base they'd construct would protect the village from an attack. Oakfield would also reap the rewards of being an official part of the kingdom. Their food supplies and livestock would be vital to ensure famine didn't break out and the queen could very easily use her power to begin expansion of the farming village's port. It would generate more revenue for Albion to spend on its military as well.
She would be a very, very busy woman in the coming months. Fixing relations that Logan had damaged would take time but it would be worth it. She had worked too hard to take her throne only for it to be all for naught.
"You are dismissed," Annabel said. "I have urgent work to oversee." The two men left her alone in the throne room and the young queen sighed in content as she stroked the arms of her throne. 'It feels so...nice, being able to take my proper seat. Logan was such a fool to think they would continue to support him.'
Annabel looked up and saw she was not as alone as she initially thought. She did have a visitor, albeit one who was very easy on the eyes. "No need to skulk in the shadows, my darling. It is just the two of us now."
Reaver stepped out from behind one of the many great white columns that decorated the throne room. He gave her a wink that said, 'Come hither,' and she found herself walking towards her lover. She put a sway in her step, watching his eyes follow the shake of her hips. What better way to relieve some stress that the day had caused thus far?
When she was within an arm's reach of him the queen let him tilt her head up. "What can I do for you, Master Reaver?" She knew how much he liked hearing her call him that, her eyes noticing a slight pitching of his trousers.
"There are many things you can do, my sweet." Reaver clasped one hand on her rear and pulled her to him, giving her a chaste kiss. Annabel whined into his lips and locked her arms around his neck, grasping tufts of hair.
"Is that any way to treat a queen?" she whispered.
"A queen, who if I recall correctly, was begging for me to breed her the last time I had a night with her," Reaver answered huskily. Pressed up against him she could feel his length poking her and she ground her hips into his, the queen moaning as he bit down on her neck. "And I never break promises to royalty."
"H-haaa~..." Annabel could feel her body beginning to warm up at his touch, letting him mark her as his. "Then are you going to fulfil it~?"
"Yes." Reaver scooped her into his arms, the queen wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the royal suite. Once inside, he merely kicked the door shut behind him and placed her on the vast mattress, the queen getting to witness a treat as he undressed.
Her mouth watered at the sight of his proud erection and she crawled over on her hands and knees, licking her lips. She could catch a whiff of the pixie tear perfume that he favoured so much, leaning forward to lick at the tip. Annabel smirked at the soft groan and subtle twitch he gave and went further, fully wrapping her lips around him. She had never performed such a depraved act on a man before and she could only take a few more inches before she began to gag.
She knew her limit at least and she hummed around his length as she bobbed her head up and down. It didn't take long for her to build up a rhythm of sorts, the queen looking up into Reaver's dark eyes. They were filled with hunger and he grasped tightly on her hair as her mouth worked on him. "Look at you, on your knees like a common whore. What would they think if they knew their queen was so depraved and promiscuous?"
Annabel tried to take more of him down her throat before pulling off, tapping his saliva-coated erection against her lips. "They would be envious. You are the only man who gets to have me however and whenever he wants."
He leaned down to kiss her chastely and spun his finger, telling her to turn around. The queen obliged and spun on her hands and knees, looking longingly at him as she shook her hips from side to side.
She gasped as one hand slapped hard on her backside, feeling the sting as the mounds of flesh jiggled from the impact. "Ooh~...you shouldn't be so rough with me~."
Annabel felt him tug off her trousers and she moaned as his length teased her dripping entrance. She bit down on the mattress as he continued to tease her, letting her wet folds lubricate him and gasping out as the tip slipped inside briefly. She tried to rock her hips back to take him inside but his reflexes were too quick for her to react in her lustful state. Reaver chuckled at the queen's impatient whine, grabbing a hold of her waist and leaning over her.
"Impatient are we?" he breathed huskily into her ear. Annabel whimpered in response, feeling his manhood rubbing against her and giving him a pleading look. Oh Skorm she wanted him so damned badly. She began to pant like a whore in heat, addicted to the sensations she felt when she was with her master.
"P-please?" she begged.
"You're mine, my darling." Reaver took her to the place she at first could only dream of.
Logan's hands were chained behind his back and his head was hung low as he was dragged through the castle, servants and soldiers sneering at the fallen king. How could he have not seen the signs sooner? Annabel purposely was making noise to consolidate her power; killing a notorious kingpin like Nigel Ferret ought to have been enough of a sign that someone was making moves.
He suspected her of trying to poison him but never acted on it; instead she remained the same sister he thought he knew even when she was being monitored by his men. Did she start with them first, making sure that they would swear fealty to her or suffer a fate worse than death?
Or was it the sudden disappearance of their old steward? He did notice that the servants were much more relaxed once he had gone missing, but none of them so much as said a word to him. They lost faith in his ability to provide stable and fair working conditions and chose to follow the one who would make a demonstration of what fate awaited those who disobeyed her. Reopening a formerly overrun mine to preserve Bower Lake was also a very cunning move. He didn't want to admit it, but Annabel's quick thinking was her greatest weapon. Her charisma too; it had inspired an entire kingdom to turn their backs on him.
Cunning, ruthless, and powerful. But how long would it last her? If she truly knew about the threat in Aurora, then why overthrow him? Too many questions and not enough answers. This change in her had caught him off guard completely and a king had to remain strong in the face of adversity. The fact he didn't was the reason behind his downfall. He wasn't strong enough to be the ruler Albion desperately needed, but he at least tried.
Logan held his head a little higher. He may have been on his way to the executioner's block, but dammit he was still royalty. He had an image to maintain, even if he was going to die. A king faced his death with dignity and honour.
The soldiers dragging him along like a filthy commoner stopped in the courtyard and tied him to one of the columns, ensuring that he couldn't wriggle his way to freedom. Logan took a deep breath as the men he once trusted more than anyone with his life now aimed their rifles at him, preparing for his execution. "May Avo forgive me." He accepted his life was now over; Albion didn't belong to him, but he belonged to her and would happily die in service to his country like a true man of the crown.
The ranking officer stood to the side and instead drew a pistol, aiming it at the former king's head. "Any last words, Logan?"
Logan faced the men who were about to kill him and sighed. "No. I have already accepted my fate."
"Fire!" the steel plated officer ordered. A series of gunshots rang out and Logan gasped in pain as bullets tore through his light rags, splattering the column behind him with blood. He fell to his knees, still barely alive, but it was short lived as the officer pulled the trigger.
Logan's headless corpse fell to the ground in a heap. The old guard had been destroyed and on its surface, Albion would be recreated into the powerhouse she was meant to be.
A/N: Smut, Logan dying, and of course Albion getting stronger thanks to smooth negotiating. Hey, say what you want about Annabel being a power hungry and murderous bitch, but she does know how to get things done.
-Classiest#8332