Authors Note: I got a sudden hit of inspiration and finished the second chapter today, as always I don't own Fable 2, if I did Reaver would be everywhere and Lucien would be king of everything.
ENJOY - TempX
Chapter Two: Up
Farmer Don was a simple man whose simplicity spanned for an average childhood to an average adulthood; it was obvious in every aspect of the man. His appearance was nothing to comment on, standing at an normal height with brown hair and eyes the colour of used bath water he would hardly stand out in a crowd. He and his wife had lived in Rivernt, a small isolated little farm village on the far outskirts of Bowerstone, for the entire of their 10 year long marriage. On the 3rd year of their marriage they were blessed with their darling daughter Lizzie who quickly became the centre of their small but comfortable world. Living in such a secluded area visitors were scarce and those that did come were only passers-by looking for a bed to rest and wait the night out. They had even been spared from the problems caused throughout Lucien's tyrannical hold on Albion and thus were not well educated in exactly what had occurred. Occasionally word would catch the wind and drift through Rivernt, words of a Spire, kidnappings, and the most common was word of a Hero who later sought to stop Lucien and put an end to the madness.
But Don was an easy going man and didn't put a lot of interest into such matters, he simply wished to wake up at sunrise and work till the late evening, then come home to the smell of dinner being cooked by his loving wife and feel the warm welcome home hug from his little spider-Lizzie. Which was why when his little girl found the injured man, who appeared seemingly from nowhere, he was a little unsure he didn't dream the entire thing.
The presence of the man himself was odd, he thought as he sat down by his bedside, a cup of scolding warm tea clutched in his rough hands, burning his fingertips enough to force him to rearrange the hold of it every now and then. He didn't look as old as when he had first laid eyes on him, his hair was white as opposed to grey, almost like the colour itself had been removed, his skin was drained and aged, pasty and creased like it hadn't seen the sun in hundreds of years. And his frame, tall and thin, looked like it would break if it caught a strong gust of wind. Yes, on second glance this man couldn't even have been in his 50's.
Don took a small sip from his tea to test the temperature, he clucked his tongue and swallowed hard when the hot liquid burnt the inside of his mouth, but at least it kept him awake. A quick glance at the clock told him they were well into the early hours of the morning. Lizzie had been put to bed hours ago and his wife, Diane, had taken to their bed after tending to the strangers wounds as much as she could. Diane had requests Don stay awake and keep an eye on their injured guest, she had justified such a appeal by the desire to make sure his wounds didn't open during the night and bleed out, however he knew that look in her eyes, she was uneasy with him being in the house.
A mumbling from the bed caught Don's attention, he watched as the stranger rolled his head to the side, his chest heaving up in pain like he was struggling for breath. His pale hands gripped the covers of the bed and in the light of a nearby lamp small beads of sweat could be seen forming on his forehead and trickling down into his hairline.
"A fever"? Why he had spoken out loud Don didn't know, he raised a hand forwards and placed it gently on Lucien's face, touching his forehead, cheeks and then finally the back of his neck. He defiantly had a temperature, what did that mean again? Don wasn't a doctor, his wife was the one with medical knowledge, should he wake her up?
"Daddy"? A small voice broke the silence; the farmer leant his head back and stared at the doorway where Lizzie stood, half hidden by the frame. Her big blue eyes were filled with worry, she clutched her blanket tightly, occasionally fingering and picking at the edges.
"What is it Lizzie"? Don winced at the horse way in which his words came out, he coughed to try and ease up his next sentence.
"You should be in bed, come on go back, you'll be grouchy in the morning". The little girl puffed her cheeks out, little face going red in defiance. She strode forwards, trying not to fall over as the blanket bunched up around her feet. When she got to her father he hoisted her up onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around her to make a cocoon.
"I was worried for him Daddy, I had bad dreams". The small girl crawled off of Don's lap and onto the bed Lucien slept in, she crouched herself on the end of it, knowing better than to get any closer just in case she hurt him.
"Bad dreams, you know they say if you tell someone your bad dreams they never happen".The chair creaked as he dragged it a little closer, the legs rubbing against the floor. He clamped a hand in Lizzie's hair and ruffled the blonde mass even more, making it messy. He chuckled as she quickly pulled away and began to try and flatten in back down. As soon as she was happy she took a deep breath, ready to explain her nightmare.
"I was standing in this room with no lights, and I could hear people talking". She paused to reposition herself, crossing her legs; she took a hold of some of her blonde hair and began to plate it idly.
"There were these three people, a really big woman, a man who glowed and some guy with a fancy coat, they were wriggling on the floor, I think they were hurt". Another pause so Lizzie could change places once again and move to lean back on the wooden wall the bed was against.
"Then out of the darkness this person walked forwards, I couldn't see their face but I knew they were scary, and strong, they stood in front of Roof-Man". Don took a second to figure out who she was referring to, his eyes now on the bedridden man. Lizzie did have a penchant for giving people nicknames and sticking to them even after learning their real names.
"He was sad about something, and started talking to the scary person, but they must have not been friends because the scary person took out their sword and stabbed him so hard he fell backwards and into the darkness". Don could hear the uneasiness in Lizzie's voice; he took another sip of his tea and placed it on the dresser table. He scooped up his little girl and hugged her tightly.
"Don't worry Spider-Lizzie, it was only dream, Roof-Man is still here and look, he's getting better". He gestured to Lucien, Lizzie smiled brightly and nodded, reaching out and patting his hand a little.
"Do you think he'll be awake tomorrow, I want to show him my secret hide out and introduce him to Trucy". She giggled and slid off her Dad's lap again, grabbing her blanket as she went.
"Oh I'm sure he will; Mummy will get up early and make him all better". Don patted her on the back to send her on her way, he wrinkled his nose however. Lizzie had never allowed anyone to know where her secret hideout was, and Trucy, her stuffed Balverine, apparently never spoke to anyone but her. He felt a twinge of jealously at the obvious attachment she had formed to the man into the bed next to him.
Don listened to her footsteps pad on the floor, walking down the hall and back into her room, the sound of the springs on the bed reassured him she was going back to sleep. He waited a minute or to, just to check she didn't sneak back out. Silence again. He took the finale sip of his tea, it was an unpleasant sort of lukewarm now. How depressing.
He managed to wait out the rest of the night, just about awake as the sun began to rise. He shifted in his chair trying to crack his back and neck, the two now aching from being in a fixed position for too long. A stretch showed to be the perfect cure, he stood up, palms to the ceiling, letting out a satisfied groan. He then doubled over in shock and pain as someone prodded him sharply in the side. He swung around to see the face of his amused wife, snickering at catching him off guard.
"Sorry, I just couldn't resist". Her light brown hair fell across her face before she quickly tucked it back and tied it up in a high ponytail. Don grabbed her lightly and brought her towards him, hugging her tenderly, fingers running through her silk hair. He sighed in heavily and gave her a quick squeeze before pulling away.
"You off to bed now, I can take over from here"? Diane picked up the empty mug, shaking it a little and sloshing the left over contents inside.
"Yeah I think I should, get a few hours before I head off to Bowerstone Market". Don kissed his wife gently on the head before walking out the door.
Diane waited till he was gone before she headed into the kitchen and dumped the empty cup in the sink. She breathed in lightly trying to gather her thoughts that for the most part centred around the their current guest. She just couldn't place it but something about him made her uneasy. She'd always been a perceptive one, even as a child, to her people just gave off an aura and you could tell friend from foe, those to trust and those not to, but him with him it was as if there was a mixture of everything. After tapping her nails on the draining board for a good ten seconds she spun on her heels and walked back into the guest room, grabbing the first aid box off the dresser and dumping it on the bedside table. She removed the lid and got out a few items, one by one she placed down some gauze, fresh bandages, anti-septic cream, and some small cotton clothes to clean the wound. She couldn't help but laugh at such a pathetic excuse of items to deal with the man's wound, but there was little more she could do given their circumstances.
"Okay Sir I'm just going to undo your bandages and have a look". Diane spoke as if he were awake, a tender smile as she patted his shoulder, maybe hoping he was conscious enough to divulge her growing curiosity as to who he was an how he came to be in such a state. But alas Lucien remained silent and gave no cry of protest when she began to peel back the now sticky white bandages, her face grew grim as layer by layer she saw the extent to which he had bleed out during the night. How he was still alive she didn't know but she knew better than to question such luck and drive to stay apart of this world. Diane began to hum a little ditty tune in an attempt to sooth her own nauseous feelings, living on a farm she had seen her fair share of injuries, she recalled last Summer when Don had managed to embed and axe in his foot while chopping fire wood, or when her daughter fell while climbing trees and broke her arm. Living with such troublesome family members had hardened her up but not enough to fully cope with seeing someone's ribs exposed. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled back the large gauze, she needed to blink a few more times to register what she was seeing.
"My word". Was all she could muster out, the gaping wound from yesterday has healed beyond what one would expect. Prodding her middle finger into the wound only furthered her disbelief when her nail hit healed ribcage. Without thinking she rolled Lucien over roughly to check his back, it was the same story, anyone would assume the man was sliced by a sword twice instead of being impaled.
"Who are you"? Her curiosity had peaked to the point of fear, she may not have been a doctor but healing so quickly in one day was something anyone would see as out of the ordinary. Diane grabbed the anti-septic and began to clean the two wound gently, even the bleeding has stopped a fair bit now, only occasionally oozing when she caught a sensitive part. She then grabbed the finale bits of gauze and pressed them down, it took a bit longer to wrap the bandage since she did have to keep lifting his back a little to get the white ribbon all the way around, after about ten minutes she curled the end under and fastened it with a safety pin. The ending product was a little rough around the edges but she was pleased none the less.
"Right breakfast for Lizzie". Diane clapped her hands together and got up marching out the room, she closed the door behind her out of habit and headed into the kitchen. After opening a few cupboards she decided bacon and egg was in order, it was a Sunday after all and their hens had laid eggs yesterday morning. She got out a frying pan, splashed in some oil and began to fry absent mindedly, adding the bacon first and then the eggs, turning them every so often.
The sound of the frying blocked out the little footsteps coming from the hallway as Lizzie crept from her room and into Lucien's, a mischievous cat like grin on her face since she knew she would be in trouble if she got caught. After closing the door gently and slowly to avoid making noise the little girl turned her attention to the bed, mincing her creep like walk she tip toed across the floor boards and leant up on the bed to get a good look at her new friend.
"Roof-Man". Her voice was a low whisper, she glanced back at the door to make sure her mum hadn't heard her.
"Roof-Man". She said a little louder than the first time, eyes narrowed when she got no response, she flung Trucy up onto the bed first and then climbed up herself. She stood upright for a while with her arms crossed. Why wouldn't he wake up she wondered. She began to bounce a little, pushing her feet into the mattress then allowing it to spring her back up. Lizzie did that over and over again gradually getting harder and harder.
"Stop it".
Lizzie instantly froze when she heard the man speak for the first time, her face went from a open mouthed shocked expression to a big wide smile. She began to bounce again to get his attention once more.
"Amelia I said stop it". Lucien opened his eyes and stared at Lizzie who was now stood still, looking down at him with a confused face, head tilting to the side.
"My name isn't Amelia sir". She corrected rather coldly, put off at him not knowing her real name. She none the less sat down and grabbed Trucy, hugging the floppy doll to her chest so hard the head bent awkwardly making it looked broken. Lucien didn't say anything but Lizzie could read his face, he had that same look Daddy got when he woke up after a long night drinking with his friends. What was it mummy called it? Hung Over?
"Are you feeling any better Roof-Man"? Her loud intake of breath made it obvious she had become bored of the silence and was expecting to be humoured.
"Roof-Man"? Was a confused response.
She let out another breath of annoyance this time at him repeating her, now she knew how Mummy felt when her and Daddy argued.
"It's what I called you, because you hit a roof yesterday". A slow nod followed by Trucy's head becoming even more crushed as Lizzie tightened her grip. Lucien closed his eyes again and managed to raise his hands to his face, he began to rub the bridge of his nose, trying to wake up properly, he felt himself being watched like a hawk as he sat up in the bed, grimacing a little at the slight pain in his chest. He turned his gaze onto Lizzie, eyebrows raised.
"I hit a roof huh? Well that explains why my back hurts". As if on cue he cracked the part in question and then rolled his head from size to side, another crack resulting in an 'ew' from Lizzie who suddenly threw Trucy at Lucien with force. The soft doll hit him square in the face and then rolled downwards landing onto his lap, plush legs folding over one another, the Balverines soft fluffy head lolled upwards in a possessed sort of way. It was by far the most sinister children's toy Lucien had ever seen.
"She likes you". Lucien rolled his eyes towards the girl who was inching closer every now and then, almost like she was trying to get close to a cat without scaring it. Her child-like chubby hand patted Trucy the Balverine on the head before picking her back up and making her stand.
"So, what's the name sailor"? The Balverine was rocked backwards and forwards to make it seem as if it were talking, and Lucien couldn't help but laugh at the rather fake Irish accent Lizzie used when making Trucy's voice.
"I am-". He stopped mid sentence, not very subtle but he didn't know what to say. He couldn't very well say his name was Lucien, that alone would raise suspicion and when put together with his appearance they were bound to figure it out. Maybe a fake name would suffice, although sooner or later he might slip up and not respond. Amnesia was the next option, she said he'd hit the roof, what was the say he didn't smack his head as well. Yes that would have to do for now.
"I don't know young lady, I don't seem to be able to recall much". To seal the deal he raised a hand to his injured head and tapped it.
"Roof-Man it is then, or maybe Bill, I like the name Bill". Lizzie yanked Trucy backwards and dangled her in mid air letting the toy sway from side to side, obviously growing bored.
"My name more certainly isn't Bill". Lucien snapped, who on the other hand despised such a generic name, Bill, only common children born of parents with no imagination named there child Bill, it was nearly as bad as Bob. Bob? The last name rang a bell for some reason, old acquaintance, didn't he have a Spire guard who registered his name as Bob? Oh well it didn't matter, all that mattered was he wasn't going to walk around with this little girl calling him Bill.
"If you don't know what your name is how can you know what it isn't"? That certainly shut Lucien up, he stared at Lizzie, dumb founded at the fact he'd just been put in his place by a kid not even ten years old. Shit, this was bad.
"Roof-Man it is then". He was defeated, utterly defeated by the little Machiavellian.
The duo nearly leapt out of their skin when the door to the room swung up with such ferocity it smacked the inside wall, causing a chain reaction of things falling off the shelves and onto the floor. Diane stood with a crazed look on her face, a steaming frying pan clutched in her left hand held menacingly up in the air like she was ready to attack the intruder with it. Lucien sat there, still as he could be, not even breathing.
"MUMMY HE'S OK"! Lizzie yelled and leapt off the bed running to Diane and hugging her around the knees, calming her instantly. The woman let her hand dropped and quickly hid the frying pan behind her back, laughing it off.
"I can see that Lizzie, now why don't you go have breakfast, it's getting cold". The prospect of breakfast made the girl charge from the room and straight into the kitchen without another word. She even forgot her beloved Trucy, now lazing by Lucien's side. The man in question was still trying to breath properly, his hands idly clutching at the cover in front of him, bringing it upwards to his chest. Diane walked forwards and sat down on the chair, she smiled brightly.
"I'm gad to see you are okay, from what I hear you had quite a fall, and from what I see quite a battle before hand". She bent her arm out for a second but brought it back when Lucien nudged away, respecting the fact he may be uncomfortable and confused. Diane cleared he throat, looking around the room trying to think of something to say.
"Would you like a drink, tea, coffee, water". Another bright smile on Diane's behalf left Lucien feeling rather unnerved, it was clear she didn't know who he was else he would be in prison right now, but the look she was giving him it was almost warm and welcoming. Something he wasn't used to and had long forgotten.
"Tea would be nice thank you". He reverted his face downwards to avoid eye contact, without thinking he took a hold of Lizzie's doll and began to toy with it. The woman in front of him just nodded and stood up, brushing her white piny down and tightening her hair scrunchy before making her way back into the kitchen to make said tea.
As she left Lucien relaxed a little, he dropped the doll, he began to try and calm himself. What do I do? He was panicked, he couldn't stay here for long, where ever he was. The clothes the kid and the woman were wearing suggested they were a working family, farmers, fishermen maybe, which mean he was in a village most assuredly. The fact they didn't recognise him also meant it would have to have been a small place, maybe Blueward, Rivernt, those were the two likeliest options. Either way he couldn't hang around for too long, guards always patrolled the near by villages and he highly doubted everyone was as world naïve as these people. He'd wait another day and then leave tonight, Lucien had no clue where he'd run to but anywhere was better than a populated village.
The sound of water boiling drew his attention, and when followed by the laughter of the girl from earlier Lucien caught himself smiling slightly, it was uncanny, her resemblance to his little Amelia. They were even alike in mind, adventurous and just looking for trouble. Trucy's button eyes bore into him as it was once against lifted.
"A doll should never be as creepy as you Trucy". He huffed out a small hum of a laugh, placing it back down gently, head propped up neatly this time.
He leant back into the bed, the oak ceiling looming down on him, the ambience of a wife and child in the other room nostalgic, and saddening.
(The previous night)
The carriage pulled up slowly, the horses head rocking backwards at the tightening of the reins, the clopping of horseshoes against cobbled pathway coming to a halt.
"This is your stop you two". The drive yelled in thick London accent. Sliding off the front of the carriage and tipping his hat as the door opened he tried not to laugh as the two males exited, averted gaze the give away to the argument they had just had and had been having the entire 3 hours journey.
"Take your stuff and leave Reaver". Garth's monotone voice spoke more emotion than he intended, he grabbed his own satchel and threw it over his shoulder, movements tired and agitated. He dug his hand into his pocket and brought out the gold, paying the drive and thanking him in the process. The Driver nodded and got back on his carriage, he snapped the reins and road away quickly heading back to Bowerstone.
"Come now Garth, don't be that way". Reaver sauntered over, hands raised delicately in the air as he tried to make an non-threatening posture. As he got close to the Will user he let one drop, the other snaking around Garth's shoulder trying to bring him into a sort of side hug.
"You can't say we haven't bonded over these passed few weeks". His sentence was bit short when Garth pulled away, the fingers on his left hand now dancing with small lightning bolts. It was of course only a threat but Reaver was no idiot and got the picture, and backed off quickly.
"Oh come now, surely one more night together wont break the ice". He could have happy set fire to Reaver right now, but he was not a violent man and kept his cool.
"I assure you, one night with me is all you'd need to loosen up a bit". Even for Reaver's standards his statement was perverse, made even more skin crawling by the dirty giggle that followed.
"Reaver, as I have told you, I am heading back to Brightwood in the morning and your presence is not necessary nor is it desired". The smaller man walked through the gateway in the low fence and up the main path that lead into Rivernt.
"You can be very cruel sometimes Garth". The closeness of the voice suggested that the gun slinger was still following him, like he had through out all of Samarkand , he wasn't sure whether the man didn't get the hint or was just doing it because he knew he irritated the Will user, Garth would bet all his money on the latter. The rest of the walk into the village centre was refreshingly silent only broken occasionally when Reaver made obnoxious 'ohhhh and ahh' noises, likely not impressed by the small farming town. As he got up to the tavern named 'The Black Sheep', no doubt for comic purposes, Garth turned to Reaver once more to clarify the situation.
"We are only coming in here to get information am I clear, you may have one drink but no more, I do not desire a repeat of your actions in the last tavern we were in". Reaver's mouth twitched into a wicked Cheshire grin as his mind went back to a few days earlier. He wasn't sure why Garth had been such a kill joy, he'd had the time of his life chatting with the two hookers and downing pint after pint of good old beer. The dancing after his twelfth pint had been the highlight of the evening, especially when he fell off the table and practically body slammed Garth into an overweight prostitute, he'd personally have loved to be sandwiched between her buxom chest. And then, when he'd gotten into a fight with that ugly, and obviously lesbian, bartender he had felt rather special when Garth came to his rescue, it was only after the two were dragged outside by the bouncer he realised they had just been barred for life.
"I promise nothing". Reaver looked half-man snickering to himself, Garth rolled his eyes and mentally slapped himself in the face, he walked in the tavern none the less and took a seat. Reaver collapsed down beside him and grabbed the menu.
"Well slap my ass and call me Nancy, they do cocktails". Reaver yelled loudly, Garth just let himself fall forwards and head butt the counter.
He should have just abandoned Reaver in Samarkand when he had the chance.
Oh Reaver you do bring out the worst in me!
As always please review, compliment, crit, but be nice, I'm so very very breakable. ;)
Reviews actually do make me work faster, I feel inclinded to not let anyone down.