A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter 21. After this, we'll only have five chapters left. It feels kind of weird to be wrapping a story up after writing it for more than a year. But at the same time, it's nice.

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.

*Masquerade of Death*

Annabel sighed as she signed another piece of parchment, dipping her quill in a vial of ink to give the bill her royal seal. The politics of the royal court were getting very tiresome and her frustrations were becoming more and more apparent. To the young queen, it seemed as though the nobles lived in an idyllic paradise completely deprived of conflict and their protests about her approach were becoming more grating by the day. 'Do they not understand that we are at war? The Darkness is not going to care about their money or their jewels. If we don't build an army big enough to stop it, then we will all die. I'm not going to let my kingdom fall because the greedy few aren't getting their way during a time of crisis.'

The young queen flexed her fingers, hearing a satisfying crack from the joints. She liked to imagine she was snapping the necks of the nobles and the brunette woman looked up at the sound of a gentle knock. "Who is it?"

It opened a tad and Candace poked her head in. The servant's cheeks were bright red and a new black leather collar was around her neck. "It is me, your grace...prepared to serve you." The queen's lips curved up. Was there truly a better way for her to release her pent up frustrations with the uselessness of the court?

"Oh, my little darling." Annabel stood up from her seat and sauntered over to her, lifting Candace's chin up and giving her a chaste kiss. "You have no idea how nice it is to have someone who doesn't drive me up the damn walls. Is there any information for me, my sweet?"

"Y-yes..." Candace let out a mewl as the queen's knee rubbed between her legs. "Auroran representatives have arrived in the capital. They wish to speak with you, your grace."

Annabel hummed. The court was a priority, especially if they wanted to become part of the kingdom like she suspected. Aurora was closer to the threat than anyone and had no real army to defend it. It was only natural for them to seek salvation from the only power on this side of the ocean, especially with them so close to ruin. The queen had full intentions of absorbing Aurora into the kingdom, for it would be good for business. Traders especially would make a fortune selling exotic goods that one wouldn't be able to obtain under normal circumstances. In times of war, every defendable position was needed to hold off the coming darkness.

"Pity that politics have to come before pleasure, hmm?" The queen smirked and lazily dragged her finger over the servant's lips. "I better see what Reaver has come up with. No doubt he has a proposal regarding the Aurora situation."

Reaver had of course visited the desert city once, burying his autobiography in the deserts surrounding it. He wasn't impressed by Aurora itself, saying there was an abundance of hot nights and an appalling lack of uninhibited people. But he was the queen's financial advisor for a reason; if there was any way money could be made, he'd find it. His knack for making gold would only help fund the armada she planned on building.

Of course every major town and city had a garrison stationed for the people's safekeeping. Nobles complained about the presence of soldiers, but the poor fools didn't realise that the soldiers knew far better than to do anything that would infuriate the queen 'Blasted fools. They'll be the first to die when the darkness comes. Not a big loss if they do perish.' The donations she had received aside, they didn't exactly benefit the kingdom in any way.

Candace was left a blushing and stuttering mess when Annabel swiftly turned away from her; the brunette queen had work to do and it wasn't going to get done if she stood around toying with her favourite all day. "Don't fret, my sweet. I'll be back to enjoy you later."

With her hands behind her back Annabel made her way to the throne room, a few guards saluting her on her way. The court was in full attendance, with Reaver and the Auroran representatives bowing upon her entrance. Walter called for the audience to stand to attention and they did so with cheers, applauding her name.

Annabel didn't bother trying to hide her satisfaction. Logan never had an audience cheer for him like this. Most of those in attendance to the court when he sat on the throne did nothing more than give empathetic nods. They never loved him and were too happy to see all remnants of his rule be destroyed.

The queen sat on the throne, crossing her legs and resting her chin in her hand. Her fingers tapped the side of the throne and she glanced over at Walter, the old soldier ready to being the court. "Your majesty, the matter before us is the future of Aurora. Kalin, the representative of her people, will offer her proposal. Reaver will stand against her. With your permission, we can begin the proceedings."

"Proceed." Annabel gave the order and the audience ceased their cheers to listen in on the proceeding.

Kalin was a woman clad in a tan strapless dress, with several tribal designs on her exposed shoulders. Her head was completely shaven to show the white war paint that came from the back of her neck over her scalp and down her face, her large golden earrings jingling as she bowed before the ruler of Albion.

"Your majesty, we in Aurora were overjoyed to hear that King Logan was removed from his seat of power," she said. "He neglected to tell you that he too faced the darkness that lurks in the deserts surrounding my city, and nearly met his end there. He survived thanks to our care and promised to come back with an army to save us. He didn't cause the attacks, but his broken promise led to four years of constant death and destruction. I ask of you to let Aurora to become part of your great kingdom; we have ships and will be more than willing to let the queen use them as the beginnings of an armada."

Reaver's turn to speak was next and the king of thieves wore the same smirk he always did when he had an idea. "I am all for integrating other cultures into our kingdom, but they must work for that privilege and I know how they can achieve that. There is a very large mine in the city that is filled with valuable metals. I propose we enlist Kalin and her people to mine these resources; they can be their payment."

"You're talking about forced labour!" Kalin snarled, balling one of her hands into a tight fist.

"Oh please, nothing so barbaric." Reaver let out an unamused snort. "If we wanted to exploit you we'd blockade the city until you were desperate enough."

"That's enough." The queen raised her hand, silencing both of them. "I propose a slight alteration. Albion will lend whatever resources to help rebuild the city, however, that mine is too valuable for all of us to pass up. Kalin, why don't you appoint someone you trust to be overseer and use it as a way to fix the unemployment issues plaguing your city? This is a good opportunity to create work for those seeking it and in turn, bring in resources we will desperately need to build the fleet dedicated to protecting Aurora's shores and station a garrison to patrol the streets."

The proposal hung in the air for a few brief seconds, but Kalin eventually consented. "I thank you, your majesty. I shall make the necessary preparations. We will not forget this gesture. Speaking of the defences around the city, may I ask what your plans are? A naval fleet will only bombard the city."

"I am aware," the queen said coolly. "Hence why I am authorising a defendable position to be built in the surrounding desert. Troops will be stationed once it is complete and will be able to buy your people time to evacuate should the darkness come." Annabel was well aware there would be those who would object to this ruling, believing that she was throwing good soldiers away into an empty desert only to be a diversion. But she needed troops there to send a message. Nothing would stand in her way.

The brunette queen looked over at the recently promoted General Swift, the veteran soldier standing aside the throne. "General, make a list of those you want to be the first line of defence in the desert. We will send them in once we have the fortress is complete. Supply runs will be established to ensure they don't run afoul of faulty equipment in such a harsh environment."

"As you command." The general saluted and left the court, beckoning for a pair of elite soldiers to follow him.

The audience erupted with applause upon hearing her decree. Walter was nodding in approval and his voice rose above those cheering. "The queen has spoken. Aurora is now a part of the kingdom and will be treated as such. With her permission, this meeting is adjourned."

Annabel stood up and her commanding tone rippled through the throne room. "The court is finished for the day. Walter, I leave it to you and General Swift to choose the men you want stationed in Aurora. There is one more thing I'd like to say."

She cleared her throat and placed her hands behind her back, standing with the confidence of a leader. "Many rumours are circulating about me having an affair and I'd like to address them. I am not wed and can assure you of this; the rumours are false." Her gaze briefly met Reaver's and he smirked. "There are no suitors who have come forth and asked for my hand in marriage. My priority is ensuring this kingdom is ready for whatever comes at us. Starting a family is nothing more than a dream right now."

Eventually, she'd be much more willing to produce an heir to the throne. But time was not on her side. Getting pregnant during a time of war would severely weaken Albion. If Albion wasn't heading into battle in the not so far future, she would have given it much more consideration. Rulers had to deal with reality, not mere ideals. 'Patience. Our land is still not ready for the darkness. Once the threat is disposed of, then I will make the news of my union public.'

In the meantime, her and Reaver would need to be a little more discreet about their frivolous bedside activities for the time being. The kingdom didn't need any distractions during a time of war. They needed to remain focused on their objective; making Albion the greatest power in the world. It was as if she had been blessed by Skorm himself. The gods were watching.

"Barring any other news, the court is adjourned for the day. We will resume tomorrow morning," Annabel announced. There was a lot of work to do. Aurora's reconstruction would take time, but she trusted Reaver would find a way to speed up the process while not cutting corners. The city would be no use if it toppled over the moment the darkness came.

The audience filed out of the throne room, her generals and advisors following suit. They had work of their own to do and it too was not something that could be taken lightly.

Reaver stood his ground, not budging until the last member of the general populace had left. "Impressive work, my dearest. You have knacks for making money and making yourself seem like a wise ruler."

"This is my kingdom," Annabel answered smoothly, striding over to her beloved. "And I will do everything I can to bring it to its rightful glory." She wrapped her arms around his neck, one leg rising up to let him dip her down like it was a formal ball. "Is this merely a proposition to enjoy your company or something else?"

"Oh, I have something that you will enjoy very much." Reaver smirked. "You may recall the dancing hall I mentioned the time I claimed you in my manor. How would you like to enjoy a glorious display of gruesome violence without even having to draw your blade or cast a single spell?"

Annabel smiled. A man after her own heart. "Oh my dearest, you certainly know just the things to make me feel all hot and bothered under the collar. Allow me to change into something a little more comfortable and appropriate for witnessing whatever display you have in mind."

"May I escort you to your chambers, your majesty?" Reaver offered his hand to her and the queen graciously accepted. She let his gloved hand entwine with hers and she allowed the King of Thieves to escort her to the royal chamber to help dress her for the occasion.

"Now remember, darling," Reaver cooed, his silky tone sending shivers up her spine. "Business first. Then pleasure."

"Mmm, sounds delicious."

"Oh it will be."

The last time the queen visited Reaver's manor on the farthest shores of Bower Lake, she had been a princess desperate for someone to make her feel alive in the most primal of ways. Everything had spiralled into a sloppy mess, yet she could remember it flawlessly. Annabel could recall every time she scratched Reaver's back, every time his warm seed flooded her.

Yet, she had still only seen Reaver's pleasure chamber, which definitely lived up to its name. The rest of the inside of his magnificent mansion was just as tidy as the rest of it; servants toiled and laboured over every square inch, only pausing from their duties to bow at Reaver and the queen as they strode up the carpeted staircase to the ballroom.

Annabel looked down at the clothing she was currently wearing and despite it being the sort of extravagant robes that would seem out of place anywhere minus the castle, it was fairly comfortable. The frilled white lace over her wrists and neck accented the pale yellow of the bodice nicely, and the skirt was long enough to prevent prying eyes from wandering too much while still hugging her form.

Having grown more accustomed to her royal attire, the shoes were a little tight but manageable. She wouldn't utter a complaint on what was supposed to be a night out.

The grand dining hall was completely empty save for a few intoxicated nobles blabbering about in their chairs, complaining about them not being able to fit in their robes anymore. Bloody drunks.

"If you'll follow me, my dear," Reaver whispered. He led her through the hall and took a staircase to the left, spiralling up until it was looking down at the dance floor. "Voila."

Dangling from the rafters was a large metal cage big enough to fit a balverine in, but inside was a beaten and bruised man in torn grey rags who had obviously done something wrong to earn Reaver's ire.

The Pirate King noticed her silence and he smirked. "Something the matter?"

"Oh, no." Annabel grinned and gestured to the prisoner. "I was just thinking that whatever he did to deserve being dangled in a cage, he probably deserves more."

"You are quite right." Reaver's smirk grew all the more devilish. "But we will wait until the rest of my...guests, for a lack of a better term, show up. In the meantime, would you care for some refreshments?"

"Why certainly. Who am I to deny hospitality?"

"Excellent. Barry!" Reaver clapped his hands once and a slightly dishevelled butler appeared, wearing a dark blue suit accented by gold trim. His red hair was unkempt but fashionably so and he bowed before them.

"How may I serve?" he asked.

"Fetch the bottles of Tenebrous for myself and my esteemed guest," Reaver ordered silkily. "As for the ingrates still in the dining hall stuffing their faces like pigs, inform them that there is only cooking sherry left."

"Of course! Master, would you like for me to arrange a nice orgy for later on? It has been many months since you last held one." Barry grinned.

Reaver sighed and reached into his jacket where his pistol remained hidden. "I'm going to give you until the count of three."

Barry wasn't stupid enough to hang around; he knew what happened to those who annoyed Reaver. He scurried off in a hurry and the Hero of Skill rolled his eyes. "So uncivilised..."

Annabel laughed and adjusted the black mask that covered the top half of her face. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes. We don't want these fools to recognise you," Reaver replied and he didn't reach for his pistol when Barry returned with two bottles of Tenebrous. Supposedly, the wine was used in ritual sacrifices by followers of the Temple of Shadows. Initiates would drink the wine after the victim's blood was mixed into it and those who had the stomach for it were then granted membership amongst the shadows. Nowadays, it was imbibed by the extremely wealthy and those who knew how to get their hands on it for it was now considered very rare.

Reaver popped open both dark brown bottles and offered one to the queen. She took it and may have purposely let the King of Thieves get a good look at her cleavage in doing so. He stared hungrily at the covered mounds of flesh and his soft growl made her knees weak.

While they sipped on the very expensive wine, other noble guests soon filed into the ballroom, taking their seats around Reaver and her. Annabel could hear words of jealousy from some women about being so close to Reaver and she smirked. If only the fools knew of the affair.

Reaver stood up from his seat, lazily dragging a finger around the queen's lips. "My esteemed guests, before you all is this evening's piece of the Resistance. Though I suspect we will be rudely interrupt—"

"REAVER!" The ballroom doors were kicked in by a very angry dark skinned woman with dreadlocks, clad in lightweight leather armour, flanked by two equally angry men. They were armed, and the woman leading them raised her flintlock pistol and aimed it up at the Hero of Skill. "Let him go this instant!"

"Or what?" Reaver asked mockingly. "He tried to kill me in my own manor. I'm well within my rights to see that he faces proper justice. You holier than thou idealists, always so dedicated to sticking their fingers into Reaver's honey and thinking in the most binary of ways. As much as I would enjoy seeing what kind of lightning you are under the bedsheets, my guests are beginning to feel...restless thanks to your rude interruption."

One noblewoman twitched uncomfortably, her long blonde hair beginning to fall from its neat bun and her eyes slowly turning an unnatural blue that the queen had only seen once before. The eyes of a balverine. 'So, this is the little secret. His guests are actually balverines who have mastered the ways of transforming at will.' She had assumed that the only ones capable of transformation were the white balverines like Connor. But as she could see, she was wrong.

Completely oblivious to the danger, Barry reached over to the noblewoman uncomfortably shifting in her seat. "No need to get restless, sweetheart, Barry Hatch is here to take care of you! Fancy a quick jig?"

Rather reluctantly, the blonde woman silently agreed to the dance and let him spin her around. Her fangs began to grow and Barry only noticed something was wrong when she had completely transformed. In place of a beautiful woman was a balverine covered in coarse black fur, saliva dripping from its jaws.

"Rough one, eh?" Barry grinned, looking the wrong way. "I like that in a woman..."

His voice trailed off as he turned his head and saw the wolfish monster that only resided in the nightmares of the unintelligent. "W-what!? Oi, Reaver, help!"

The balverine descended on him with a lunge, the poor butler not even having time to scream before razor sharp canines tore his throat out. Barry's body hit the floor and as if enticed by the smell of blood, the other nobles began to shift into their true forms and join in on the feast.

Reaver rolled his eyes, unamused by the unnecessary bloodshed. "Dear me. Don't you brutes know how bloody hard it is to find good staff? Still, might as well enjoy the show."

He tapped his cane once and the prisoner in the cage was dropped to the dance floor, the man crying in pain as bones broke on impact. Reaver looked over at the pack of balverines, who had now finished eating Barry's corpse, and jerked his head to signal them to attack the intruders who were now paralysed with fear upon seeing the balverine horde ready to tear them to shreds. "What's the use of a secret society without a little secret, after all?"

The pack leapt on his command and soon the screams of the intruders and furious snarls filled the ballroom. Reaver tipped his hat and looked over at the true guest of honour. "Enjoying the show, my dear?"

"Oh yes. You promised me a spectacle and you have delivered," Annabel said with a purr, twirling her wine. She took a sip and leaned over to watch the feeding frenzy, part of her groaning in content. Whoever the intruders were, they had been ripped apart in a matter of minutes. Poorly aimed bullets found their way into the ballroom walls and Reaver let out an annoyed grumble.

"Can you kindly stop putting holes in my home?" he asked mockingly, peering down and grinning when he saw the ringleader was the only one left alive. If one could call it that. Her arms had been ripped off at the elbow and she was on her knees, dark eyes wide in terror as Reaver addressed her. "Oh, you must be Page. The leader of the Bowerstone Resistance. To think that you of all people would attempt to assassinate the one man who has helped this kingdom more than anyone save the queen. Pity you were unintelligent enough to try it. You might have been spared."

Reaver then looked at the pack of hungry balverines circling her and gave his order. "Kill her. Make sure there is nothing left to bury."

Page's terrified wails were cut disappointingly short. Annabel quivered in her seat and waited for Reaver to return to his own before leaning over and giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Oh my love...this is wonderful. How can I ever repay you for giving me such a magnificent display of carnage?"

Reaver smirked and cupped her chin, his dark eyes burning through her mask. "Well, once my guests have settled down and go on their way with full stomachs, the two of us can elope to my quarters and have a private party if you so desire."

The queen purred and plucked his own ballroom mask off to let him ravage her neck with kisses. "O-ooh...I could do with some fun. You're the only one who knows about my little white lie in the court."

"Which part?" Reaver smirked.

"The part about no suitors coming to me. They can ask as much as they like, but there's only one man who has my body and heart." Annabel moaned as he kneaded her breasts through her bodice. "You."

And that was not a lie.

A/N: That is it for this chapter, but since this a rather special story that has somehow been more enjoyable than most of my popular work, I thought I'd inject a bit of humour to it in the form of an omake.

Omake

"Lieutenant Daniels?" Sergeant Davis walked up to his superior officer, concerned about what his men were doing in the deserts of Aurora outside of the fortress they had finished building.

"Yes, sergeant?" The lieutenant loomed over him but was a gentle giant. He just looked intimidating as all hell.

"Do you think we're being too literal about this?" the sergeant asked weakly, gesturing to the group of soldiers dragging abnormally sized combs through the desert.

"Of course not." The lieutenant shook his head. "We're merely following her majesty's orders. She ordered us to comb the desert, so we're combing it."

With Sergeant Davis staring dumbfounded, the commanding officer cleared his throat and shouted out to the first group. "Find anything!?"

"Not a thing sir!"

"What about you lot!?"

"Nothing yet!"

"...what about you two!?"

"We ain't found shit!"

End Omake

Kagerou#0007