DAMN PLOT BUNNIES!
This fandom isn't even big and Fable 3 came out ages ago but damnit this wouldn't leave my brain. For anyone new here - this will contain incest. Which I write a ton of anyway.
-F3-
Louisa took the crown off and ran a hand through her hair. Still short, cut while she was on the road for ease. Without the creature comforts of a spoiled princess in a castle, things like hygiene weren't to be taken for granted, and short hair was far easier to manage overall. She hadn't decided to grow it back out again; yes, she was a monarch now, but Logan had said a fight was coming. She'd have to balance training and preparing with ruling, and undoing Logan's messes...
She sighed, mind wandering again back to her brother. He awaited her down in the dungeons, one of those areas even now she wasn't really meant to go to, but had seen people 'escorted' to a few times in her teens, before being shooed off by a nearby servant or maid.
That barely felt like her own life anymore. She'd seen too much, done too much to be that naive young princess any longer. The day that had begun like any other, her dog licking her face and Jasper laying out a choice of expensive clothes for her to meander about the castle, trying to pass the time. Perhaps visiting with Elliot... Louisa shook off thoughts of him. If she went down to Logan angry, it wouldn't help her control her powers, powers that had grown even stronger since she was crowned and the final hurdles to their full potential were lifted by Theresa.
A glass of extortionately expensive wine appeared when she asked for a drink; she was much too used to cheap tavern spirits to really appreciate the probably-delightful flavours, and necked it with all the grace of a tavern wench. Louisa had already been chastised for her lack of manners once that day, though Walter had barked a swift reminder to whoever it was complaining that Her Majesty had spent a whole year in disguise as a commoner to help save Albion, and a little adjustment was to be expected. After a quick glance at the gauntlets that adorned her hands, they swiftly left her alone.
"So, what are you going to do, my Queen?"
"Oh Walter, please, call me Louisa. Give me some familiarity in all this, would you?"
Letting out a gruff chuckle, Walter nodded.
"As you wish, my Q- Louisa. What are you going to do?"
"With Logan?"
"Well, yes. His trial is rather soon."
By 'rather soon', Walter meant the following day. It was essentially her first duty after the celebrations.
"I know. And the choice is entirely down to me. I presume the allies will want to present their for and against on execution?"
"Indeed. They've all been told they can make their case, but all have agreed not to abandon you as an ally over your decision."
"Because that makes it so much easier."
She considered asking for another drink, but then realised that allowing herself to overindulge would mean spending the first day of her reign with a stinking hangover. Hardly confidence inspiring.
"First, I'm going to take this overly frilly... thing off. I feel like I'm at Reaver's ridiculous murder masquerade again. Then... I am going to go and see my brother. You're excused for the night, Walter, and I want my chambers to be empty when I come back. I'd hate to return upset and hurt somebody."
"I'll see to it. Good evening."
Walter inclined his head, and went to ensure her instructions were passed on while Louisa waited to be alone to head to the Sanctuary. Jasper was full of congratulations and bows and general joy that the last year had been worth it.
"Anything I can do?"
"Whatever it is you do with my clothes when I leave them here, you can do to... this" she gestured to her coronation attire "once I've changed into something comfortable. I'm much too used to practical over pretty."
"You carry a regal air of power regardless of your attire."
She smiled; Jasper was a breath of familiarity too. Something Louisa needed as her life changed so dramatically overnight. Jasper let her re-dress in peace, assuring her he'd launder and press and whatever-else-he-did to her clothes, giving her practical bottoms and warm jumper a nod.
"Keep the crown though, my lady. Just in case you don't have time to change before you start work in the morning."
Once she'd slipped some sturdy boots on and readjusted her gauntlets, Louisa reached over and plucked the crown from Jasper's hand.
"Thanks."
"Any time. Was there anything else? Should I prepare the armoury for you?"
"No, I'm good with what I have for now thanks. Once you're done with the dress, the night is your own. Take a break. This will be a long year coming, so relax after the long year we've already had."
"As you wish."
After a stretch, she left the Sanctuary, crown in hand as she sat in her now-empty personal chambers. She could have gone to the War room, but that was likely to be where she spent a lot of time soon. Sleep, rest and the simple luxury of a permanent bed were probably not going to be things she indulged too often in.
Unless she counted falling asleep on the throne, as she'd seen their father do sometimes when someone was droning on and on. She was going to have to ask Walter to ensure she never fell asleep at work.
Gathering herself for a minute, Louisa stood up and left her room, dismissing the guard that still lingered outside the door.
"Your Majesty-"
"I wish for a peaceful night, which includes not having to work out how to sleep with somebody I barely know so close to me. Leave."
Grunting, the guard made themself scarce. It often felt like something of a ridiculous formality - what could a guard defend against that she couldn't? Magic literally flowed in her blood, ready to be fired out in... she glanced at the gauntlets, forgetting which ones she had on. Flames and Shock, apparently. The guards swords seemed a little feeble in comparison to her ability to electrocute people at will.
Making her way through a handful of doors and dodging tipsy servers and celebration stragglers, Louisa sighed in a strange sort of relief as she crossed the last door. The warmth of the castle faded within a few steps, air cool and a little musty as she climbed down the stone steps. It actually felt more normal for her, after splashing through sewers and battling through caves. She'd been soaked in the blood of more creatures than she could count in the last few months.
Which is probably why she found it increasingly grating when guards stopped her again.
"Move."
"We're not meant to let anybody visit the prisoner."
She rolled her eyes.
"And who exactly gives you orders that supercede mine?"
They spluttered and shared awkward glances, before finally stepping aside. She took the keys from one, then turned back toward them.
"Leave us."
"Ah, now Your Majesty, I don't think-"
Fighting down the urge to punch him in a display of just how easily she could defend herself, Louisa lifted one of her hands up so he could see the shine of her gauntlet in the candlelight.
"What, exactly, do you think he can do against a Hero? What do you think you can defend me against that I'm incapable of fighting off myself down here? Now, leave."
Logan potentially faced execution in the morning. She wanted the chance to talk without eavesdroppers she hadn't had the time to trust yet. They finally left, and she waited to hear them leave at the top of the stairs before she let herself in.
The cells were empty other than him. He'd taken off his armour and purple jacket, stripped down to only the thin black jumper he wore beneath it. Even his gloves were discarded. Logan looked smaller than she remembered, even hours before when he'd been taken from the War room. He looked scared, really.
"Brother."
He hadn't looked up when she entered. Stared down at the ground, knuckles white where he gripped the bench he was sat on. Her voice made him look up, a myriad of emotions flickering across his features as he looked from her crown all the way down to her boots, before finally returning his gaze to her face.
"Sister. Or should that be Your Majesty now?"
Despite his obvious fears and exhaustion, he still had the energy for that damned sarcastic tone of his.
"If you want to pick a fight, I'll leave you here by yourself until morning."
All at once, the fight seemed to leave him and he slumped back against the wall, kicking one of his boots against the stone.
"I don't. I just don't know why you are here."
Louisa leant against the bars at her side, folding her arms across her chest.
"You could face execution in the morning. This might be the last chance we have to speak alone."
"Am I to plead my case amongst the damp and the shadows?"
"No. I doubt there's much you could say to excuse what you've done. Not to me, and certainly not to the people of Albion and Aurora."
Logan shrugged, head tipping back to rest on the wall, eyes closed.
"I suppose we shall see in the morning."
Truthfully, she'd half expected him to try and figure out what she planned to do in the morning. Equally truthfully, she had no idea herself. Silence hung thick in the air for a few minutes, almost long enough for Louisa to give up trying to talk to him as a bad job before he spoke again.
"You've grown."
She blinked, confused.
"It's only been a year."
"Yes, but father once said something about certain kinds of Hero magic making you taller. You may even be taller than me now."
Logan rose to his feet, proving himself wrong, though the difference in height was much smaller than it had been the last time they stood so close to each other. She hadn't realised her added height until then.
"Nope. Perhaps not all about the Hero genes."
She commented. Up close, she noticed Logan had lost weight. Though she wasn't taller than him, she might well have been broader than him by then. Neither of them had their father's breadth though. Louisa remembered Logan at about nineteen, trying on one of their father's coats and it absolutely swamping him.
Logan turned and went to sit down again. Louisa noticed the tension in his frame, the hesitation before he lowered himself; the back of the cell was mostly in shadow, the candles all on the other side of the bars. The darkness...
Even Walter had been afraid, and Kalin and the Priestess said Logan had barely survived the same injuries. Leaving him there was tantamount to leaving him to suffer all night long from that same fear. Some might say he deserved it... but something her father had once said to her when she asked why he always gave the condemned men a final meal and a drink.
"When someone faces execution, you're seeing them on the worst day of their life. Don't be the one to make it even worse."
"Wait."
Logan faltered, turning his head to look at her, eyebrow quirked in confusion.
"What?"
"Oh, I'm going to regret this. But I'm not leaving you here all night. I know you're afraid of the dark."
He tried to deny it, tried to play bravado.
"Just give me a candle."
Louisa gripped his arm, forced him to face her.
"I've been to Shadelight. Tell me, how restful would your night be with the shadows dancing in candle light? How much sleep would you get watching the candle burn down to nothing?"
He turned away, but she caught his scowl.
"Why do you care?"
"You have a case to plead in the morning. I want you at your best."
"The guards will never let even you just walk me out of here."
Louisa shrugged.
"So I won't ask them. Come here."
Visibly confused, Logan complied, leaving his armour, his jacket and his gloves on the bench. Louisa slipped the Guild Seal from her pocket, and it brought recognition to her brother's face.
"Father's seal?"
"You've seen this?"
"Yes. He kept it in a display box for years, and he even let me hold it once. After that, I never saw it again."
Louisa frowned.
"I sort of remember the box, but I found this hidden in his tomb. It has quite a few tricks. Give me your hand."
Despite the damp, cold cells, his ungloved hand was warm against her own as she closed it over the Seal. It connected her to the Sanctuary, and so when she went there holding Logan's hand around the Seal, it brought him along too. Thankfully, Jasper was either in the dressing room, or gone for the night. Either way, he wasn't there to see Logan.
"Is this what I think it is?"
"Yes, but for now, it's a shortcut."
The Map table was an obliging transport system, and seconds later the two were stood in her chambers. Formerly his, and there hadn't been time to redecorate so she supposed it all looked rather familiar. Neither seemed to realise they were still more or less holding hands for the moment.
"That is quite a trick."
"I thought so. Go and clean yourself up. I don't think your clothes have been thrown out yet either. And I know where the escape route in here is, so don't make me have to chase you."
They finally let go of each other, and she found she missed the warmth of his hand as Logan crossed over to draw away one of the wall panels. It swung open to reveal a wardrobe, and sure enough his clothes still hung there. After she locked her door, Louisa toed off her boots and sighed as she sank into her bed, shifting to sit in the middle of it while Logan was in the bathroom. He looked a little less haggard when he returned, oddly unsettled as he waited for permission for once when he asked what to do with the clothes he'd taken off.
"Leave them in there. Nobody will be coming in here until morning anyway. And I hardly expect to be accused of improper activity with you of all people."
Logan swallowed thickly, but turned and left his clothes as ordered. Giving orders... that was still going to take getting used to. Particularly orders to Logan, who was rather used to giving them all and taking none.
Louisa shifted up on the bed and gestured for him to come over. Logan moved slowly, and sat on the very edge of the bed rather than next to her properly. The light seemed to help settle him somewhat. Not unlike Walter in that regard. She stared at his stiff back for a while, wondering if he planned to spend the entire night like that. Hand turning over the Guild Seal she'd slipped from her pocket, she shook off the memory of his warm fingers brushing hers.
"What happened when you held this?"
He finally turned around, watching the Seal roll back and forth between her fingers.
"Nothing. I suppose father planned for you to be tested too, but he died before you were old enough. It takes time for Hero blood to assert itself, and the Seal won't awaken it until you're ready. So he hid it until you were ready, and died before he could take you there himself."
That sounded about right, she mused. When she first touched it in the tomb was when she first felt her powers truly flow through her.
"What else do you know?"
They both knew Hero didn't always pass on - though Hero blood was all but gone from Albion by then, there were tomes and tomes on them in their father's personal collection. It wasn't uncommon for the bloodline to pass on but the magic to skip one sibling, or even a whole generation. Though he himself lacked the powers that Louisa carried, if Logan had a child, there was a chance they'd be a Hero too.
"I heard talk you'd been to the Reliquary, found father's music box?"
"I did. Sabine wanted proof I wasn't pretending to be powerful. The box never worked for him though. He couldn't even open it."
"No. He wouldn't have been able to. It will only open to one of a Hero bloodline. You should get it back some time. It may be needed for future generations... assuming there are any future generations. It's been long enough... is there a child out there somewhere?"
Louisa shook her head.
"No. I won't pretend I behaved like a princess out there, but I wasn't careless."
She'd lost Elliot, after all, and while their relationship had been more one of gentle flutters than passionate heat, it had still been a blow to one that had barely begun to see the truth of the world beyond the protection of castle walls. So while she'd sought the occasional stranger to ease the loneliness, she'd also been mindful to use contraceptives with the men.
Louisa edged a little closer to Logan, frowning when he did his best to move away, though he couldn't move much without toppling off the bed or getting to his feet. Before she could question him, there was a sharp knock at the door. Giving Logan no time to argue, she grabbed him by the arm and bodily shoved him in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Then she headed to her bedroom door, and opened it a small amount.
"What do you want? I'm resting."
"Apologies, Your Majesty, but the prisoner - that is, your brother Logan... well, he seems to have escaped his cell. And report is that you were last with him."
"Yes, I was, and I left him there to visit with Jasper before I retired for the evening. If my brother has evaded you, I rather think you should be out searching for him, not bringing your incompetence to me."
"Ah... yes. Good point."
As they turned to leave, she made a parting comment.
"If your search takes you beyond the castle boundaries, do not harm the citizens."
"Yes, my Queen."
She shut the door and locked it behind her again, rolling her eyes and supposing that at least for the next hour or so, they were all off searching for the escapee currently hiding in her private bathroom.
"You can come out now."
Logan reappeared, face a picture of confusion again.
"You sent them away."
It wasn't a question.
"I inherited your staff. I haven't had the time to trust them yet."
Logan let out a small hum.
"Interesting. But clever."
He still kept a distance between them, and honestly it was starting to annoy her. Each time she took a step toward him, he stepped back. So she kept going until he could go no further back. Even though he stood taller, he looked a little small backed in to a corner.
"Are you afraid of me?"
"No."
"Then why do you act like you are?"
Her heart beat a little quicker with the look in his eyes, his chest moving with quicker breaths.
"I am not afraid of you. I am afraid of myself."
"What do you think you could do?"
They both seemed surprised by his next move, gripping her at the waist and turning them so she was pressed to the wall, not him. If her hands had been on him in that moment, he might have been shocked or set on fire, but the magic of her gauntlets simply crackled in her hands, which hung loose at her sides.
"Do you know why I still called you a child, even when you were grown?"
Her heart began to beat harder.
"Because you always look down on those beneath you."
"Because..." his hands tightened at her waist "if I didn't see you as a child, I might have seen you as a woman. And that was too dangerous."
He was so close she could feel his breath on her face by then. Without his gloves, she could feel the warmth of his hands soaking through fabric to her skin.
"And now? How do you see me now?"
Whatever tenuous control he had dissolved, and Louisa barely drew another breath before his mouth was against hers, a low growl echoing in his chest. For just a second, she pretended to herself. Pretended it was just giving a man his dying wish. And maybe that would have worked if she wasn't fresh out of Aurora, hadn't had those shadows whispering to her.
They saw it all, every dark secret that pulsed through someone's veins. They'd whispered it in her ear, too low for Walter to hear or he'd have surely been horrified by what he learned. A twisted longing for someone she should simply have loathed, desire to be under the hands that had caused so much pain for others. The shadows weren't there any longer, but the whispers still echoed in her mind.
His fingers dug in to her back, the urgency of a condemned man evident in his touch even as he pulled away, shaking his head and refusing to look at her.
"Why did you stop?"
She hadn't meant to ask, but the words slipped from her lips all the same. Logan turned, but looked away again a second later.
"Because no matter what you think of me, I would never force myself upon somebody."
Entirely aware of what she was admitting to, confessing to what appeared to be a shared sickness between them, Louisa stepped forward.
"And what if it wasn't force?"
He was still too hesitant, but one thing he wasn't was stronger than her. So Louisa took her chance, and turned him around, silencing his attempts at protest by kissing him herself. It took little time for him to yield to it, seconds more before stumbling steps had her feeling the mattress press against the back of her legs. Still, he pulled away from her again.
"I have to know, sister" his voice was little more than rough whispers by then, barely heard once there was space between them "are you allowing this, or are you just as sick as I am?"
"Must be a family affliction. I wouldn't simply allow this."
That was all the confirmation he needed, and their next movements were to climb atop the four poster bed, his mouth clumsy against hers even as he pressed hard enough for her to feel the dip of the scar on his face. He hissed in pain, recoiling from her touch when her hands landed on him.
"What?"
"You shocked me."
Oh. Of course. She'd always taken them off for... such things before, fearful she'd lose control of her magic in the heat of the moment. Logan watched as she tugged each of them off, flexing her hands now they were freed before she put the gauntlets aside, resting them against her crown on the bedside table.
"Better?"
His answer was physical rather than verbal, his slender body pressing back against hers and there was no recoil when she touched him that time. Logan kissed her greedily, tongue tasting the wine she'd imbibed earlier as it explored her mouth, hands tugging her jumper up before his thumbs found the muscles of her stomach. Goosebumps erupted along her skin at his touch, and the heat inside her was unlike any other she'd experienced. Which was, frankly, a bit irritating. Why him?
Logan's mouth dropping to her neck and sucking drove the thoughts from her mind, her legs tightening around his hips. That made him grunt in pain again, Logan breathing a reminder that she was much stronger than him now. With his weight loss and lack of heavy layers, he seemed almost fragile between her hands; she was more than capable physically of breaking him if she wished. The bruise she felt forming on her throat would be gone by morning; Heroes healed themselves constantly. It took a great deal of damage to even leave a permanent scar.
His urgency slowed for a moment when her jumper was removed, eyeing the voluntary markings that now adorned her skin.
"You got tattoos?"
"I did. A mix of Dweller and Auroran. To remind me."
That seemed to be the end of conversation again, Logan's fingers working to remove her bra and the unmistakeable feel of his hard cock pressing to her inner thigh. Fabric became little more than an inconvenience, and Louisa was hard-pressed not to simply tear the damned material away from him. Finally, their clothes were fully discarded, thrown to the floor and forgotten before they landed. Logan's hands roamed her bare skin hungrily, groping and squeezing, dark eyes taking in her every response as she twitched and moaned.
Louisa's own hands did not lie idle, though she was more careful than he, holding back more strength as she dragged manicured nails down over his ribs, one hand reaching down to close around his cock. He bucked into her grip, groaning and squeezing her breast harder in his rough, calloused hand. His free hand slid down her stomach, fingers moving lower and lower until they found her, wet and wanting as she tipped her hips up to chase his touch.
When he first pressed inside her, he thrust a little too quickly and withdrew at her visible discomfort.
"Did I hurt you?"
"Just... sudden. Move. I have an idea."
Logan complied, moving at her insistence until he sat leant against the cushion. She climbed into his lap, able to control his angle and depth as she gripped his cock and guided him into place. Her body yielded more readily to his that time, and both sighed in mutual pleasure as their bodies came flush. His fingers traced the ink on her legs, though his eyes couldn't stray from her face for long, as though he couldn't quite believe it was her who sat atop him.
His hands returned to her waist, gripping at her back as Louisa began to move, bracing her hands against the headboard behind him - probably just as breakable, but far more replaceable and explainable than if she'd injured Logan when forgetting her own strength. Oh, he felt good inside her though, the heat she'd never felt before flaring hotter with every thrust, every grunt and groan her motions drew from his scarred lips. He looked dishevelled already, hair that was usually perfectly oiled in utter disarray, pale cheeks flushed and even his perpetually tired eyes were alight with many emotions.
When Logan sat up properly, head dipping to suck her nipple into his mouth, she heard the wood creak in response to her tightened grip. His hips bucked up into hers, meeting her thrusts, his little sounds of pleasure buzzing against her skin. She bit her own lip so hard she tasted blood to try and stay quiet, unsure whether they or the bedframe would break first.
It was both; the wood splintered and cracked as Logan's rhythm stuttered, hips bucking a couple of times before he held her in place, groans muffled against her breast as he climaxed. She wasn't there yet, but it didn't feel like it mattered as Logan trembled weakly, arms wrapping around her waist as he tried to get a hold of himself again. Louisa wondered briefly when he'd last even known human contact, let alone such intimate contact.
And that was without the added... complications, like the shared blood that flowed through their veins, the weight of the next morning that hung in the air no matter how distracted they were.
So Louisa expected it was a rather intense experience for Logan, and waited for her brother to get himself under a little more control. Once he let her go, she moved to lie next to him, the two side by side as they looked at each other. His features were half-shadowed at that angle, but the darkness didn't seem to truly touch him with her there.
Though she knew he was tired, Louisa didn't stop him from reaching for her again when he recovered, letting him stay on top that time. The two watched each other as he moved, slow and steady, savouring the moment more. He brought her over the edge before himself that time, and the moments after were silent save for ragged breaths, Logan's fingers tracing the shapes etched upon her back until their skin cooled enough to allow a closer embrace.
"I need to say this, before I lose my nerve or fall asleep."
Louisa made to turn over, but Logan stopped her.
"What is it?"
"I... whatever you decide, in the morning. I won't fight it. This wasn't something for me to use against you."
Well, that was good news. She hadn't truly thought he would, but supposed a man in fear for his life might use any means to defend it. It would do nothing for confidence in the new monarch if her first act as Queen was overshadowed by the knowledge she'd lain with her brother as though they were husband and wife. Her fingers flexed against her own stomach, well aware that she'd been careless with Logan and wondering if she'd have to visit that Healer down in Industrial, where such measures were commonly taken by those who simply couldn't afford another child.
"Hush. Let's not talk about that now."
Logan sighed behind her, though his arm didn't retreat from around her waist.
"I mean it. I've been there. I know that rulers have to make some impossible decisions."
The clock that ticked away nearby seemed to mock her, reminding her that time stopped for nobody, not even Heroes. Even their arcane magic could only slow time, and briefly at that. Sleep would offer no respite to her that night; she had to stay awake if she wanted to ensure that no-one found Logan in her bed come morning. So she let him fall asleep behind her, hoped his slumber was restful, peaceful even, since it might well be his last.
-F3-
Ahhhh, complicated feelsy incest is always fun to write. Now begone bunny!