Chapter Two
A loud shot rang out through the morning air causing the old butler to startle. The platter of breakfast he was carrying clattered in union with his jump and he sighed.
"That blasted chef must have lost another of his poultry." Shaking his head, he silently opened a door to the princess' room, closed it, and set down the tray.
He slowly looked about the dark room only to rest his gaze on the sleeping masses under the bed sheets. As per his ritual he slowly opened up the curtains allowing light to filter in.
"My," he sighed. "What a pitiable scene. Once again you seem to prefer wasting away in that bed rather than enjoying another beautiful morning." Shaking his head he opened another.
Stirring under the sheets the princess slowly uncovered her head, her ice-green eyes drowsed and glaring at the offending light.
"Go away, Jasper." Syeira groaned, turning over onto her side.
He chuckled softly opening the last set of curtains.
"Come now, get up my lady, and greet the day." He reasoned as he slowly approached the bed.
"Shut up…" she moaned turning over to the other side away from him. "It's too early to greet anything…"
Jasper let out another soft chuckle and slowly placed his hand upon the covers, ignoring her. "Allow me to wake your sleeping companion at least." With that he pulled the covers down uncovering both her and the slobbering canine resting peacefully beside her. Kain looked up at him and panted letting his tongue flop out. "What regal bearing…" the old butler remarked placing his hands on his hips as he watched the dog jump lazily to the floor.
They stared each other down as the princess sat up and rubbed her eyes, watching the sight. A small giggle escaped her lips as she watched the old man's lips purse before he gave a heavy sigh and kneeled down petting the Alsatian. Taking this as her cue she slid out of bed, her bed shirt lifting slightly. Yawning she scratched her slim stomach and pulled the shirt down.
"What a pair…we're all doomed should we fall under your rule." He remarked looking between Kain and Syeira.
"Hah, at least it'll be one hell of a ride!" She chortled with a grin.
"Is that any way for a princess to speak?" Jasper sighed as he walked over to the platter and began to set out everything upon the table.
Ignoring his remark she ambled towards to the table and sat down in one of the fine chairs, pulling a leg up to rest on the seat with her, the other dangling off. She picked at the biscuits on her plate and stared absently at the dying embers of last night's fire. As she did this Jasper prepared two outfits for her, naturally he was explaining the day's schedule however she didn't pay any attention to him, as she was too captivated by the glowing cinders.
"…Elliot…"
"Hmm," she turned her head instantly to Jasper at the mention of her love's name. "What about Elliot?"
He stared at her blinking slightly, the look on his face nearly comical. Heaving another sigh he turned his back to her hiding the small smile that was etching its way onto his lips.
"I said that he's waiting for you out in the garden."
"What?!" She shot up and instantly grabbed the more practical outfit of the two and quickly ran behind the dressing screen.
After fumbling with the outfit in her hastened dressing, she darted out the door her hair loosely braided and no makeup upon her face. Jasper watched her do so with a small smile before recalling her elder brother and quickly headed to the door and called out.
"Mind your brother, Lady Syeira. He's in one of his moods again."
"Thanks, Jasper!" She hollered back, already down the first set of stairs and waved up at him before turning and barely able to avoid one of the nobles perusing the garden. "Oh! Sorry!"
The nobleman bowed to her and tells her it's quite alright before he watched her dart around to the back of the garden. Once Elliot came into her field of vision she stopped running and bent over trying to catch her breath. Kain barked and ran around her multiple times before darting over to Elliot and jumped up on his chest giving him wet kisses. The princess laughed watching them both before straightening and walking over. Elliot knelt down and began speaking softly to the canine while patting him affectionately.
"You'll help me keep her safe, won't you boy?" Elliot chuckled as he stood and faced the woman he loves.
"Are you two talking about me?" Syeira cocked an eyebrow and stood with her hip jutted out a hand resting on it, a stance she made popular with continued use.
"Perhaps…" he smiled at her as he looked her over; to him she was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Not that he would dare say this to her, she would most likely laugh and punch him in the arm. He pushed the humorous, if slightly painful, thought from his mind and continued to gaze at her. He noted she wasn't going to budge until he admitted it, sighing he gave her a small smile. "You know it's about you…it always will be…"
"I can take care of myself, you know." She stated placing her other hand on her hips as well.
"Hmm, you know I think you'll have to prove it to me somehow." Elliot gave her a wily smile.
Chuckling, the princess slowly approached him until they were only inches apart. She gazed up at him, being far shorter than he…a trait, Walter had told her, she had apparently inherited from her father. For a silent moment they shared a loving gaze before Syeira lightly placed a hand upon his chest and stood up on her tiptoes, her other hand going to the back of his neck, as she laid a tender kiss on his lips. His arms wrapped about her small frame and loosely held her to him. After several long seconds they reluctantly pulled apart from one another.
"Well?" She asked once again using her favorite posture, a slight smirk on her lips.
"Hmmm," he put his hand on his chin grinning. "That won't much help in a battle, though it'd probably stun your enemies if you tried." Elliot chuckled before heaving a heavy sigh and looking at her. His smile faded, a serious expression took its place. "I assume Jasper told you I wished to speak to you…"
It wasn't necessarily a question, still she nodded giving him a worried glance; they both knew each other well enough to tell when the other was troubled.
"What's wrong? Did…did something happen?" She was standing straight now, the smirk having faded and her hands beginning to fidget with the hem of her skirt.
"I don't know for sure." Elliot once again placed his hand on his chin his eyes revealing he was in deep thought before looking at her. "It's your brother…"
"What about Logan? What's going on?"
"They're saying that one of the factory workers was executed this morning." Turning his back to her, he walked over to the garden's stone railing and jumped up looking out over Bowerstone. "I'm sure it's only a rumor…" he tried to make it sound convincing but even he could hear the doubt laced heavily amongst the words. She heard it, but could only manage to look down at her feet, not sure herself. "People are beginning to talk and the staff in the castle is troubled," he continued and turned his head, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "They're frightened and I'm afraid of what may happen if their fears aren't quelled." Jumping down he stood in front of her and lifted her chin giving her a reassuring smile. "I had hoped that you would speak with them."
She looked away from him, pulling her chin from his grasp and stared out uncertain, as if contemplating the matter. The people were kind to her and in return she was good to them; however, even she feared speaking on her brother's behalf. Making promises she wasn't sure she could keep, or subduing fears that she herself possessed made her seem a hypocrite…it all made her stomach churn; especially when she recalled how her mother didn't particularly favor hypocrites, liars, and chicken kickers. 'But I have to do something…' she thought biting her lip slightly and looked at him again.
"I will…if you think it may help…"
"Yes, though they're apprehensive towards Logan, they still care deeply about you." Elliot stated with a nod before holding out his hand to her. "Will you let me escort you to the castle? They're all waiting for you in the kitchen."
Without saying a word she took his hand and let him lead her off. Normally she'd be the one pulling him along; however, her mind was plagued with leaden thoughts. Could Logan possibly allow a worker to be executed? Or was it Reaver's doing? What could the worker have done to incite such a rash and merciless punishment? With each question she grew disheartened. Slowly they passed the statue of the king and she peered at it as they did. Her head turning gradually to keep her eyes fixed upon the stone austere face of her elder brother.
'He wouldn't fall so far…would he?'
A slight squeeze of her hand and she peered quickly at Elliot, who indicated before her with a nod of his head. Turning and looking she saw they were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, the staff watching the two silently. Walking forward her hand slipped from Elliot's and she gazed softly at the people before her.
"Listen," she began her tone authoritative before becoming gentle and diplomatic. "I know you have all been through some difficult times, and the king has been too…preoccupied to treat you as he should. But I ask you all to ignore any wild rumors you hear. I promise to speak with my brother about improving conditions for both you and your families outside the castle. Thank you…" Syeira finished by peering at them all, but quickly looked away too afraid they may see the doubt that was burrowing its way into her heart.
"You call that a royal speech?!" A voice rang out from the foot of the staircase.
The boisterous voice broke her from her dampened thoughts and she smiled at the figure who stood with his arms crossed and a slight grin on his lips.
"Walter."
"You didn't shout. You didn't threaten. And you were far too reasonable." He let out a hearty laugh. "It was bloody marvelous." Winking at her slightly to indicate how proud he was he then turned around. "Right, ready for today's training?"
Elliot waved goodbye to her and smiled softly before departing.
"If I say no can we skip training and go straight to the snacks?" She asked attempting a grin as she followed after him.
"No." He chuckled as he walked beside her. Glancing down he caught the solemn look that had begun to form in her eyes and sighed. "I suppose, you've heard about the rumor…I'm afraid to tell you that it's true."
Her heart sank deeper.
"C-could Reaver have had something to do with it?" Syeira questioned not allowing herself to hope.
"Hmmm…possibly, but we both know that your brother isn't the easiest person to manipulate. That aside, it was only a matter of time with how he's been acting."
Nodding, she continued to follow him in silence, her stride slowing slightly as she grew lost in thought. She ignored the prattle of people who stood waiting to have an audience with his majesty, tuning out all their complaints and whispers. Suddenly she ran into Walter, her gut slammed against his tankard and she stumbled back grabbing her abdomen. Wincing she gazed up to see that he had stopped to speak with a petitioner.
"You alright?" The old soldier asked softly as he adjusted the tankard attached to his belt.
"Y-yeah." She nodded and gave him a slight grin before turning her attention to the petitioner.
"Like I said, I doubt my name would make much of a difference. However, if you're trying to eradicate poverty on our streets then maybe the princess can be of some help." Walter looked down at the young woman, the petitioner's gaze following his.
"It'd be the greatest honor, y-your majesty." The man stuttered, either due to the awe of having met with the princess face-to-face, or because she was the sister of a man whom he greatly feared.
"I'd be glad to sign." She remarked taking the petition from him and writing down her name. 'Every little bit helps…right?'
The petitioner thanked her enthusiastically and Walter laughed softly as he began to walk again.
"That was a brave move. Nothing will probably come of it, but maybe your brother will finally realize you have a mind of your own."
"You mean he hasn't already? And I was trying so hard." She gave a soft distant chuckle and tried to smile convincingly even though they both knew her heart wasn't in it.
He chuckled with her before placing a hand on her shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, Sye, we can still blame it on Reaver. I'm sure the slippery git had some part in it."
She chuckled, a bit more truly this time. Blaming everything on Reaver always cheered her up. It gave her a means to vent out anger; when it was his smug mug she imagined slicing at in training, she hardly missed a beat. Even though she knew he couldn't really manipulate Logan into doing something he'd never do…if he had shot the worker first then maybe all Logan was guilty of was pardoning the narcissistic bastard. At least that's what she hoped for. Still the thought cheered her somewhat and she felt ready to continue on.
"Thanks, Walter…" a genuine smile came to her lips and she nodded to the old warrior.
"Now, you've been making a great deal of progress these past few weeks-"
"That's probably because you've been having me train every single day nonstop for those past few weeks." She grinned as she slowly approached the weapon rack and looked over the swords displayed on it.
"Yes well, we're not training today…I want you to fight me." Walter's tone was serious as he watched the young woman turn slowly and look at him with slight confusion. "I have to see if you're ready…"
"Ready for wha-"
"Now," he unsheathed his blade. "FIGHT ME!" With that he lunged at her.
Adrenaline kicking in, along with an immense fear of being struck down, Syeira's hand grabbed the first sword her hand came in contact with and blocked his attack. Sparks flew from the clashing of their blades, the clanging of swords echoed throughout the large hall as she staggered back against the wall from the force of the blow.
"W-walter?! What are-"
"Fight like your life depends on it!" He lunged once more towards her.
A fleeing instinct took hold and she rolled out of the way and back onto her feet. Panting slightly she took a battle stance. If Walter wanted her to fight like she meant it, then so be it. She charged at him, her sword meeting his. He chuckled lightly and grinned nodding as he pushed her back.
"That's it!" He chimed as he barely blocked her next blow. "Do you remember the stories I used to tell you when you were younger? About your mother, the great Hero Queen Sparrow?" As he questioned her she landed a blow on his shoulder. 'She's gotten faster…good.' Their blades resonated again as he blocked her once more and pushed her back swinging his sword down about to clip her shoulder when she danced out of the way and countered with a thrust to his side. He felt the sword rip through the fabric of his coat and shirt, the cold of the blade causing him to shiver as it slid past his skin. 'Heh, a bit too close that one…' He watched as she barely nodded to his questions removing her blade from his clothing and swinging it at him again. "You'd never get tired of hearing them." Blocking another blow he forced her back against the table knocking over the bust that sat idly upon it. The sound of the crashing stone upon the floor did not deter the fighters; instead it seemed to coax them onward. "And after each one, do you remember what you'd say?" She lunged at him her blade coming down to his head meeting his blade with a loud clamor.
"Teach me," she grinned, as a small bead of sweat rolled down her temple, "how to be a hero…"
"Every single time." He stated with a chuckle and whirled his fist at her, aiming for her gut. Her eyes widened slightly and she jumped back panting heavily staring at him. "If only that was something an old soldier like me could teach you. This was the best I could do…" he stood and stared at her, panting a bit as well. "Now it's time for you to do your best. Strike me!" Walter waited his sword at his side ready to block when need be. She stared at him dumbstruck. She was already giving it her best, what more could he possibly want? "Come on; strike me as hard as you can!" His eyes narrowed. "What are you waiting for? Hit me!" He cried out never letting her out of his sight. She heaved and charged at him striking his sword. "Is that all you've got?! Make it count! Strike me!" She jumped back panting still and stared at him before attempting it again only to be pushed back by him. "Those blows are too weak! What are you afraid of?! Hit me!"
Her mind went blank, her body rigid, as a distant memory began to surface.
"My, my, those blows are far too weak. How can you ever hope to even hurt me with such poor strength?" He gave a soft chuckle as he taunted her, his chocolate brown eyes boring into her.
"B-be silent!" The young princess yelled as her twelve year-old hands gripped the hilt of her blade tighter.
He chuckled again, quite amused with her angered expression and vigor, and leaned against his cane, his choice weapon for this little scrap.
"What are you afraid of?"
"W-who said I'm afraid!" Syeira stomped her foot and looked at him indignantly.
"Why you must certainly be afraid, my princess," he took a few steps and quickly closed the space between them. A gloved hand reached out and took the young girl's chin between its thumb and forefinger. "You're trembling." Reaver's eyes narrowed but the smirk, which he had kept glued to his lips, only grew.
She was forced to stare into those eyes she hated so much, forced to realize that she was indeed trembling. She wanted to cry out, to slap him into next week, but she restrained herself and just stared at him loathingly, she couldn't let him know he was right.
"It's out of anger!" Syeira sneered pulling her face from his grasp.
"Is that so?" He replied with mock surprise as he kept his proximity to her. "Prove it, my little princess." The man teased. "Show me how terribly angry you are." A low sultry chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to stare at her.
"W-what?" She looked at him taking a step back her eyes catching his hand edging ever slowly to his gun holster.
Letting out another sultry chuckle he grabbed his gun and pressed it to her temple as he backed her against the wall his other hand pressed on the wall, his cane between it and his hand as he leaned over giving her a menacing smirk. "Well princess? I'm waiting…hit me." He whispered in her ear, cocking his gun. Syeira shivered from the warmth of his breath against her neck and ear, and her body trembled more as fear gripped every part of her. She could smell the wine on his breath, for some reason it began to calm her. The scent of grapes mixed with spices and a faint hint of leather and wood, it smelled exactly like the port wine her mother would drink on special occasions when she was little. The port Walter drank when he wanted to remember the good times. And the very wine Logan seemed to have an affinity for. She knew its name by heart for she had promised herself she'd try some once she was old enough. Any Port in a Storm. It sent electricity through her body and made her frown, to think he drinks the same port wine all those she cares about personally enjoy. He chuckled, his smirk growing smugger if possible. "Times up…" In that instant she grasped her blade tighter and swung it, the blade barely cutting the leather of his holster. He jumped back and looked down at it on the floor the gun not once lowering. "What spunk, what spirit…surely you would have made a great conquest, it's a pity you didn't do that sooner though."
The newfound calm and anger cleared her mind for a moment and she charged him seeing his finger beginning to pull the trigger. Syeira barely took two steps before a shot rang out. She stopped and stood trembling, her eyes squeezed tightly shut waiting to fall to the ground, for the pain to hit her hard and make her breath cease.
"Ack!" There it was the searing pain, but it wasn't where she expected. Out of reflex her hand gripped her arm, the bullet had grazed it, deep enough to bleed and hurt like hell but not enough to even pose a threat. Slowly she let her eyes open wide, and peered up at him anger bubbling up inside her mixed with traces of confusion.
"Don't look so shocked,my little princess," his expression smoldering, his eyes flickering with something she's never seen before, but in an instant it all disappeared and was replaced with ego, his usual smug grin accompanying it. "I know better than to kill the sister to the king of Albion. I quite enjoy our business relationship and I do believe that would cease to exist if I happen to even mar that pretty little face of yours. It distresses me to think what he'd do if I actually did kill you." He watched with glee as she slumped over and fell to her knees. Hot tears streamed down her face and her body shivered as her wounded arm finally released the blade. "Admit it, princess, you do not have what it takes to win a real battle. Though it pains me to say it, it was something your mother excelled in, better than me in some cases. She refused to give into death, to pain, she had no fear of them and that made her charge head-on into battle. No matter how many times she was shot, stabbed, or sent flying back, she got right back up and simply refused to give in. I'm quite sure Death himself would've given up trying to take her had it not been for-"
"Sh-shut up!" The scream escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She hated when he spoke of her mother, because he almost always mentioned her death.
He slowly made his way over to her, unfazed by her outburst as he had coaxed many a similar one out of her in the past; with a small devious grin he stood before her leaning against his cane looking down on her. "You are too afraid to die, little princess, too afraid to experience true pain, and so long as those fears have you in their suffocating grasp…you will never win." The cane came up and looked about to strike her, she flinched and watched as it tilted his hat and he smirked more. She had proven his point, even if it was unconsciously. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay and teach you more lessons and the like, I should return. Bowerstone Industrial does not run itself." Chuckling, he turned and began to saunter off. "Tatty-bye." He called out to her.
Syeira struggled through her trembles to stand; when she finally did she screamed out at him again.
"Reaver! I promise…I promise I will beat you! I'll show you!"
Reaver turned his head slightly giving her a leered glance, a chocolate-brown orb piercing into her.
"Such hollow words, however, I do look forward to seeing you attempt as much." And with that he walked back into the castle leaving her out in the garden trembling in anger…and fear.
She snapped from her thoughts as Walter called out another taunt and anger boiled within her. All she could see was Reaver's face grinning and gloating before her. Tightening her grip on her sword she lunged spinning around and flourishing. The sound of metal falling to the ground made her look up and she was shocked to see that Walter's blade had been sliced through.
"Ha-ha! You've only gone and broke it!" He looked from the blade to her. "Am I good teacher or what?" He chuckled.
"I'm sorry I didn't-"
Walter held up his hand and smiled warmly at her, giving her another wink, silently telling her it was alright. She nodded and straightened staring at him. He continued to smile his features becoming softer and more serious as the moment passed.
"Listen, there's somethin-"
At this moment the doors were pushed pen open with a thunderous slam and both looked over to see Elliot panting heavily.
"Elliot, what's wrong?" Syeira quickly made her way over to him.
"There's a crowd gathering inside the castle grounds! I think…I think it's a demonstration!" He straightened and grabbed her hand looking from her to Walter. "Come see for yourselves!" With that he ran off dragging the princess with him.
"Balls. This isn't good…"
Disclaimer: Fable III belongs to Lionhead Studios and Peter Molyneux respectively.
Sidenote: It's been a really really long time. And I apologize for that. I had lost the notebook I had written this chapter in, and only recently found the thing while cleaning out some old boxes a week or so ago. Again sorry!