A/N: Well, now there are only six chapters left. It was a fun run while it lasted. In terms of actually playing her, Annabel was a very enjoyable Fable run. Manipulating the minds of the people and doing whatever she felt like did bring back some of the magic that Fable always had.

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.

*Ill Met By Moonlight*

"My queen." Hobson bowed before Annabel, the royal treasurer in constant awe of her presence. "I'm happy to see that you have wasted no time in making necessary preparations for the army we will need to save us from certain death."

Annabel sent him a sly grin and looked past him at the large pile of gold currently being stockpiled in the kingdom's treasury. "A wise ruler makes the best of the time they have. Albion's needs required me to act accordingly." The country had recovered from the effects of a revolution in a very short three weeks, and so far the queen had proven to be a tactical and efficient leader. Representatives from Aurora had heard of the revolution and were braving the seas to pay their respects and give their own proposition. Their arrival would be in five days' time, which gave her plenty of time to prepare for it.

Of course, she had full intentions of absorbing Aurora into the kingdom. They would get the voice in the court they desired, and Albion would benefit from having the largest military presence outside the kingdom's main defences. They were the closest to the dark threat that lurked in the desert caves and needed protection. She wasn't going to let her kingdom be wiped out after she worked so hard to wrench it free from Logan's grasp.

"And you have done just that!" Hobson beamed. "With the fetid attack on the horizon, it does bring me pleasure to see the treasury full. However, I am afraid that there is some business in the court that requires your attention."

Annabel prevented herself from groaning in annoyance. The politics of the court were always a nuisance, even though most agreed with the course of action she was taking. 'Of course. If this isn't extremely important, I'm going to be a bit miffed.'

"Well, I am afraid that while it will keep you busy, it won't be an exactly stressful time. Two of Albion's finest interior designers want to know how you want the castle to be decorated. I know it seems trivial, but it can have an effect—"

"Make this a fortress of dread," Annabel interrupted quietly. When Hobson was stunned silent, she dove into her explanation why. "Our kingdom is mocked by the powers across the sea. I want those who look at the castle to feel terror. Any who dare to lay siege will run with their tails between their legs like the cowards they are."

She knew how the Albion psyche worked. They were a predictable lot, easy to charm or anger with the simplest of actions. The commoners of the kingdom were already in awe of her power and knew better, but there were still the foolish few amongst the nobles who did not believe she was the rightful ruler. They would either accept her rule out of fear or perish. There was no room for disloyalty, not when the Darkness was plotting their very destruction. Terrifying the nobles into submission was sometimes necessary to ensure the right courses of action could be taken to prepare for such a threat.

"As you wish." Hobson bowed in acceptance. "I will inform the interior designers of your choice. I'm sure that the editors of Fashion Weekly will simply love your sense of good taste and fashion."

The royal treasurer skipped away in delight and the young queen let out a sigh of relief. 'Nice to see the man is so eager to carry out my commands. Loyalty like his is hard to come by in times of crisis. Even still, that nasally tone of his can drive a monarch mad.' Her lip curled in disgust and to distract herself from the unpleasant reminder, she thought about how her kingdom was coming along so far.

The development of Westcliff's naval base was proceeding well. Workers from the hamlet were thrilled to have new labour opportunities and the winners of the Crucible were eager to earn a chance at the benefits the elite of the military were providing. Consistent pay, a steady work schedule, and some were living out their dreams to see more of Albion's shores. She did need to go a little out of pocket to give them some funds to work with, but it was a minor and necessary sacrifice.

Shops in Bowerstone were much busier too; trade between Westcliff, Oakfield and Brightwall meant that the kingdom was not projected to suffer from any shortages in the near future. They would remain stable through the crisis and beyond, despite Logan's barbaric policies nearly causing a total economic collapse.

Oakfield's docks had been expanded and the Albion Historical Restoration Society had mended the bridge spanning between Rookridge and Bowerstone, connecting the regions together. A garrison had been sent out to eliminate any bandits hiding in the woodlands and safe trade routes to and from the farming community were established. Albion's rise to becoming a powerhouse was proceeding very well. One didn't have much room to complain; it was too hard to argue with the results thus far.

Annabel faced the pile of gold that was only growing by the day and smiled in triumph. Her brother was far too weak to see what needed to be done. Under her careful leadership, Albion would flourish. 'How satisfying to see that I was right, brother. You were indeed unfit to remain on the throne. If left in your hands, Albion would be destroyed.'

She breathed in the gilded air and turned on her heel, leaving the treasury and sealing it shut behind her. Once it was locked, two elite soldiers moved in to take position on either side, barring entry to anyone who didn't want a face full of steel. 'My labours bore great fruit. I have everything I could have possibly wanted. And yet...it doesn't feel like enough. If we are to survive, we need more power.'

Bowerstone Old Quarter's road to Rookridge was about more than merely establishing the trade route from the capital to Oakfield. The road was built along the seaside cliffs and there were several abandoned mines that were still rich in valuable ore. Only a great fool would pass up such an opportunity for more resources.

Her kingdom was preparing for war and every asset they got would only benefit them.

Annabel caught a brief flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see Alexander standing patiently in anticipation. The young blond man was clad in the finest black robes that money could buy and his katana remained in one hand.

"Your majesty." He bowed respectfully.

"Alexander," the queen greeted cordially. "I noticed your absence during the coronation and Logan's trial. Pity you couldn't make the events." 'What does he want? Surely he wouldn't bother me unless it was of the utmost importance?'

"I do apologise for my absence," he replied. "I'm afraid that urgent business had called me away from Albion's shores. Nothing too important, but it did require my presence and my...unique talents. May I?" He gestured to a seat next to him, asking for permission.

Annabel gave her approval with a subtle nod. "As nice as it is to see you again, you didn't merely come up here to have a nice fireside chat with a monarch. What brings you here? You have the look of purpose in your eyes."

Alexander sat down and let his sheathed katana rest between his legs, folding his hands to prop his chin up. "Business that does in fact pertain to you, if you're willing to hear me out."

"Oh?" The queen's curiosity was piqued. "You have my attention."

"A noble family that I keep in contact with fairly regularly was preparing to make a very sizeable donation to the cause. In the eyes of the nobility, what is the purpose of clutching onto priceless heirlooms if we're going to suffer fates worse than death? I know you won't let Albion fall," he added hastily upon seeing the queen's expression darken. "But they're scared. Fear leads many to doing questionable acts. The heirloom that would be donated, however, was stolen by a thief who reportedly ran off into Silverpines Forest just outside of Millfields. I would retrieve it myself, but I know better than to enter those woods alone. The place is infested with bloody balverines and since the trinket was stolen, their attacks on trade caravans passing through have gotten more coordinated. Almost like they're learning."

Now this, she wasn't anticipating. Why hadn't she heard of the theft sooner? Annabel let out a soft hum; something else was at work here. Magic, perhaps? "You think that little trinket has anything to do with it?"

"I do." The blond man nodded gravely. "I've seen enough in my travels to know that foul deeds and witchcraft exist in all of the world's darkest recesses. That statue was rumoured to be used for necromancy and supposedly cursed. Experience tells me that something is not right here, your majesty. I would consider it a personal favour if you would be willing to get it back."

The queen paused to think out her decision clearly. There was a war to prepare for and Albion needed its leader to be alive and well when the Darkness came; without her on the throne, Albion was doomed. But Alexander wouldn't come here to waste her time unless he felt as though she would benefit from it. Having nobility in her pocket couldn't hurt. Plus, if that trinket was as valuable as Alexander said, then it would fetch quite a hefty price tag that would go immediately into funding her army.

"I'll need a bit more information." Her smirk was not subtle and she took a seat across from him, offering him a glass of brandy. "There's more to it than that, isn't there?"

"Smart as a whip." Alexander chuckled and graciously took the offered drink. "I can see why Master Reaver is so smitten with you. Don't look so surprised; information is my business."

"Damn, then it appears as though my affair with him isn't as subtle as I initially thought. Oh well, I was planning on announcing our union in the future anyway." She shrugged and knocked back her own drink, lightly smacking her lips. "Very well, tell me everything you know about this statue."

"It is carved in the shape of a balverine," the blond man replied smoothly. "Specifically, the White Balverine of Knothole Island. The supposed curse laid on it is said to gift one the ability to transform into an alpha balverine at will. Be very cautious, your majesty. It most certainly smells of an ambush."

Almost everything was guaranteed to be a trap of some kind. Her suspicion alone warranted an investigation yet she had little time to be chasing trinkets as valuable as they might be. There simply was too much to be done. Plans to build up Albion's shipyards were now underway and more soldiers were enlisting by the day. But this was not an issue Annabel could solve simply by throwing a battalion of elite soldiers at. This was something she needed to do; Alexander sought her out specifically because he knew of her power and skill. He wouldn't waste her time with something that could be fixed by a show of brute force.

The soldiers under her command were skilled, having been trained by her late brother and now Sir Walter, but they were no match for the sheer power of an alpha balverine. Cunning, agile, and deadly, the wolf-like monsters were not an enemy to be underestimated. One small slip up and that was it. Claws would rip and tear flesh from bone, sinews gnawed upon by gnashing blades fit for cutting even the toughest meat. Even a normal feral balverine was more than a match for most of the kingdom's soldiers.

She could send out a full garrison to secure the area, but the possibility of the trinket being damaged in the raid was too great to risk. No, she'd have to attend to the matter personally and that meant taking a nice little stroll through moonlit woods. 'A perfect chance to stretch my legs. I hated being confined to the castle and see no reason to continue hiding in its walls.'

Her magic began to pump through her body eagerly, wanting to test itself against the might of a balverine. The oldest monsters of Albion would know what true unlimited power was. She'd set out at once and anyone who got in her way would be put to the sword. There was no room for hesitation.

"I'll set out at once and recover it," Annabel announced softly. "Don't fret; balverines might be dangerous monsters, but I am a Hero and they will burn." 'As will anyone who gets in my damn way. I've seen what needs to be done and I'm not going to let anything stop me from doing it. Albion will be stronger.'

"Thank you, your majesty." Alexander breathed a sigh of relief and fished out a piece of parchment for her. It was a map of Silverpines Forest, something that would come in handy to prevent herself from getting lost in the woods. "Here; this is a map of the region. There's a village in the middle of the forest; if I were you, I'd start the search there. Someone there is bound to know more about what's going on. Hopefully they can point you in the right direction."

It wasn't much, but it was much better than going in blind. At least she had landmarks on the map to go by and she knew how to use a compass. It was standard training that all soldiers had to tell which direction they were proceeding in. Walter had not wasted any time giving her the same knowledge when he began to mentor her. 'First expedition outside of Bowerstone's protection. Should be interesting to see how this all plays out.'

"Thank you for the information," she said with false sweetness. "You may go now." Annabel had dismissed him. Alexander dipped his head courteously and left the war room, taking his katana with him on the way out.

Once he had gone, the young queen looked more closely at the map she was given. The village was more towards the northeast side of the forest. A trade road from the village to Millfields was already established, but with no guard presence more traders ended up missing rather than making it through. A large cemetery was to the southeast of the village, not too far from an ancient Old Kingdom ruin. It wasn't in the most accessible place, meaning it was still intact and had been spared from the Age of Industry's unending hunger for resources. Who knew what powers lurked within the depths of the crumbling walls?

'If we're to win, I need more. More power. Power to bend the damn world to my will if need be.' She felt the desire to have more burning fiercely inside her and even though her nation's military and magic grew stronger by the day, it still wasn't enough. To rid the world of the Darkness's foul influence, she needed the kind of power that would rival the Archons themselves.

Annabel placed a hand over her chest, trying to suppress the hunger to no avail. The temptations were too strong. It was because she had gotten a taste of giving into her darkest desires once and that was enough. Once ignited, the flames of her temptations craved more to keep burning. 'And look at what it has done for me. It has given me the throne of Albion and a lover that can put me in a state of complete euphoria. I have one of the deadliest weapons known to man in my possession. Why should I try to resist it?'

The queen folded her arms behind her back and left the war room with a smile on her face. She wouldn't have to worry Hobson while she was out; he knew that Annabel enjoyed the freedom wandering around Albion offered her when she could and didn't ever fret when she would disappear from the castle for a few hours. Her treasurer had faith in her abilities. In his eyes, she was infallible.

Annabel intended on proving him right.

When she arrived at the beginning of Silverpines Forest, Annabel could tell that Alexander's suspicions were warranted. Something was indeed very wrong. The minute she stepped foot into the woods, it was as if the entire world had become silent. Birds stopped singing almost immediately and even the bushes themselves had become still. 'I can feel it. There is a lot more to this than a simple thievery.'

The queen gripped Scarlet Flame's scabbard firmer as she set on along the trade route, her eyes scanning for any sense of movement. It almost felt as though she was being stalked by some sort of vicious predator from the shadows and instead of making her afraid, it made her seethe. She was the damn queen of Albion, not a simple barmaid who fainted at the sight of mice. 'I know something is out there. I just can't see it. But I will rip them to shreds if they even think about attacking.'

With her thumb lightly pressed against the handle of her katana she continued along, hearing only the sound of her footsteps. The silence was maddening and she felt her anger bubble up to near dangerous levels. If something didn't leap out of the shadows soon, she'd snap. 'Dammit, where the hell are you!?'

Annabel rounded a corner and only a handful of meters away was one of the most dangerous creatures in all of Albion. A white balverine towering over three meters away was looking at her with fangs bared and the queen felt her blood ignite. 'That's a white balverine!? It's massive!' Her lips curved into a sick smile. Its head would make quite a nice trophy for her to put up in the castle.

Scarlet Flame sprung into the hand of its master and she was prepared to set the blasted monster ablaze, but the white balverine made no move against her. It merely dropped down on all fours and howled at the moon shining through the cracks of the trees before leaping away out of sight.

Annabel tried to run after it, but it was too fast. The wretched monster had vanished from her sight. 'Dammit!' Turning around, she looked at where it initially stood and on the forest floor was a single piece of worn parchment. 'Was it carrying that?'

The queen walked over and picked it up, seeing it was a note addressed to her.

Looking for the statue, your majesty? Follow the white balverine.

The alpha balverine from before jumped down in front of her, landing on all fours. It set off in that position, looking back at the queen and growling. It was telling her to follow. 'This thing really is a human in wolf form. Alexander was right; this is definitely more human than your typical feral balverines.'

In terms of dealing with the creatures, she had never encountered one until now. The most she knew came from a few books in the castle library that she read prior to setting out. Vicious and savage, balverines started appearing in history a millennia ago following the collapse of the Old Kingdom. Their origins were still debated by Albion's scholars even today, but most believed that they were initially brought to life by necromancers who performed dastardly rituals on the corpses of wolves. Presumably they were used as guard dogs, albeit guard dogs that were two meters tall and bipedal for most of the time unless they were sniffing for prey or marking their territory.

The stench of balverine urine was strong along the road; it was if this alpha had marked every single bush and tree with its scent. The balverine still hadn't made any hostile move towards her and its glowing blue eyes shone with unrivalled power as it led the queen through the Silverpines Forest.

On the far left lay a monument of some kind, but time had not been forgiving to it. It was more of a mess of rock than anything; whatever it was used for, it was in an age long lost to Albion's history. Annabel dismissed it as irrelevant to her objective and continued following the white balverine.

Eventually, they reached the village that lay in the centre of the forest. It was guarded by high wooden fences and several torches burned with light blue flames and past the gate she could see the village was completely still. Not a single person was out; perhaps they knew of the threat that lurked outside their walls.

The balverine snarled and gestured over to the village, backing away from the lamps and leaping up into the trees. It had led her here. This is where the search would begin.

With her katana ready Annabel ventured into the village and jumped back as a bullet pinged off a tree in front of her. Her sword flashed out, ready to send whoever fired at her into the pits of the Void, only to see an elderly man in blacksmith clothes with one of his eyes blank and glassy.

"Oh, so sorry about that!" he apologised weakly, lowering his rifle and putting his hands up. "I heard howling and assumed the worst. Damn balverines are always trying to break in and rip us to shreds."

"I'm looking for a statue that was stolen from Millfields and brought here," Annabel said curtly, sliding her katana back into its scabbard. "Do you know where it could have gone or who took it?"

"No idea what this mess about a statue is, but we did recently have to banish someone for letting one of those lamps go out." The old man gestured over to the burning torches. "We burn silver nitrate to keep the balverines out. Kills them pretty quick if they hang around for too long. If two of them go out...I'd like to not think about it. The one that did go out was lit again fast and the one responsible, this bloke named Connor, got punished. Severely. Before he ventured out into the forest he tells us there's going to be a reckoning. He's probably in ten different stomachs right now, that's my reckoning."

'Exiling one of their own people into these woods? If he's alive, then this Connor is who I need to find.' "Do you know where I can find him?"

"Nope." The old man shook his head. "All I know is he went off in that direction, by the old cemetery. No one here knows if he's even alive anymore."

Not much of a lead, but it was a start. Now she had more information about what the ruddy hell was going on. 'Somehow, I feel as though this banishment and the theft are connected. Did Connor steal the statue and become a balverine?'

She had her suspicions, but nothing solid yet to confirm whether or not they were true.

"Thank you. I'll be on my way then." Annabel gave the old man a false smile and walked through the village, watching as people cautiously poked their heads out of their homes to see if it was safe for them to walk freely again.

The village wasn't as big as she initially thought; it was smaller than Brightwall by far and the only thing of any notice was a quarry mine on the opposite side of town. 'After this threat is dealt with, that mine will be quite valuable.' A few miners were going back to work in the mine with their pickaxes slung over their shoulders and the queen made it to the other entrance of the village, where two more silver nitrate lamps burned fiercely.

When she was about twenty meters away from the village the white balverine from earlier dropped down in front of her, landing on all fours. It let out a curious growl and sniffed at her for a few seconds before turning around and walking away deeper into the forest.

If it was once a human, then perhaps the person underneath was still able to be reasoned with. 'Imagine having an army of balverines to lead the front charge against the Darkness. They'd tear through their terrible machinations with ease. Nothing would stand in my way.' It all hinged on whether or not the white balverine would be willing to listen to reason, something that Annabel wasn't thrilled about betting her life on. 'Not exactly how I planned on spending a night.'

The trail the balverine led her on dipped to the right and it jumped into the trees with a howl. The trees parted and the queen reached the Old Kingdom ruin that was buried in the forest. Two massive stone pillars rose on either side of a platform and sitting on a worn throne was a middle aged man with slightly receding black hair and in fine robes. He tapped the arms of his throne and smiled when he saw the young queen approaching him. "Ah, your majesty. I've been waiting for you."

Two black balverines dropped down from the trees to flank him, taking up a guard position as if he was their master. "Were you?"

"Of course. I knew that prig in Millfields would swallow her pride and ask for your assistance sooner or later." He smirked. "You've been through the village, I assume? Charming little hamlet. Full of warm wonderful people who'll give you the shirt of their back and condemn you to death for one simple mistake."

This was Connor, the man banished into the woods. "Any man can fall asleep on watch, especially with a damn cold. You exile him into this forest and call it justice?"

"They did what?" Annabel felt her lip curl. 'He was sick and those villagers exiled him for falling asleep? This is their damn fault then.'

"Yes." Connor nodded with a hint of fury flashing in his dark eyes. "But enough of that. You're here for the statue. Quite a remarkable thing. It did everything the legends said it would. And now, I don't need it anymore. Funny how things...change." He chuckled. "So if you want to take it back to that pompous prat, it's yours. Nearly free of charge. All I ask is a small favour from you."

"Name your price." Annabel folded her arms, willing to listen to reason. She had no quarrel with Connor; his anger and hatred were directed at Silverpines Village, not her.

"Destroy those silver nitrate lanterns," Connor requested. "Then the village will get a taste of justice. Do that, and my pack and I will swear fealty to you. Now that I'm leader, we have some brains to go with our brawn and I will cease attacks on the trade caravans in Millfields."

A tempting offer for sure. Having a pack of balverines answering to her beck and call was something that should not be passed up, even if it meant a few villagers ended up torn to shreds. Not only that, but Connor was also promising to stop raiding caravans making their way through Millfields. He wasn't stupid; he knew that invoking the wrath of the queen was a very painful way to die. His offer was on the table and she had a decision to make.

Annabel felt a side of her yearning to take the offer. A side that she was no longer holding back and a cold smile crossed her face. "I like the way you think. The village will burn."

"Excellent." Connor's wolfish grin grew. "Two of my brothers will be waiting for you to destroy the lanterns on this side. Once they're gone, we'll handle the rest. You just have to sit back and enjoy the carnage." He stood up from his throne and in a burst of red magic, he transformed into the white balverine that led her here.

'So he is the alpha. That statue really does gift someone the ability to transform at will. Even though it is dangerous knowledge, it is still knowledge and therefore useful. Usually turns out to be the most useful.' The queen let her power flare out from her body and the dark magic swirled around Scarlet Flame. It too yearned for blood and who was she to deny its hunger? It had yet to lead her astray thus far.

Annabel drew her katana and with a sick smile she ran back to village, pushing through bushes and trees until she was met the two balverines that Connor said would be waiting for her. They stood far back from the silver nitrate lanterns and they barked at her, ordering her to break them and let loose their savage fury.

She was only too happy to oblige.

Her katana swung in a series of quick lateral slashes and both lanterns fell to the forest floor, now extinguished. The balverines roared as one and charged in, more of their brethren following the two into the village.

Annabel stood back and watched with a smile as the wolf-like monsters tore villagers to shreds. Claws cut through flesh with ease and the queen shivered in delight as the man who had fired at her upon entering the village earlier had his arms ripped off. He fell to his knees with a wail of agony, blood spurting out of the little stumps he had left.

His gaze fixed on the young queen and he opened his mouth to beg for her help. "Please! Save us! We're going to be slaughtered!"

Annabel let out an unimpressed scoff and turned her back, her katana sliding into its scabbard with a soft click. "Your lives mean nothing to me." Her shoulders shook from laughter as he continued to scream and eventually, he succumbed to blood loss. The second he keeled over, a trio of ravenous balverines descended upon the fresh corpse and dug into it hungrily, their jaws snapping the bones.

Annabel glanced at the other side of the village and saw that the two other lamps had been taken care of and she folded her arms behind her back. It was time she got to enjoy the sight of carnage after many dreary days in the court.

Connor reverted back to his human form and wiped a smear of blood from his cheek, grinning savagely. "Beautiful, isn't it? Revenge is so delicious, a trait many of my former friends shared. As promised, here is the statue. My pack and I swear fealty to you now. Return whenever you wish; you will always be welcome in these woods."

He handed her the statue and the queen took it, watching as the pack of balverines feasted on the remains of the villagers. "Thank you." Having an alpha balverine at her beck and call would make even those across the seas squirm in fear and think twice about crossing her.

Beams of moonlight struck the centre of the village and lit up the statue of the white balverine, the queen marvelling over its beauty for a few moments before tucking it securely on her person.

'Once more I am proved right. No one will get in the way of my goals now.'

Now it was time to go back to the castle. She had a war to plan and she intended on winning it.

A/N: Fun fact: this is actually named after Hircine's daedric quest in Skyrim. I thought it was appropriate, given the circumstances.

-Kagerou#0007