Chapter freakin' 6 is finally here. I hope you enjoy it. Also, thanks again for the reviews, alerts, and favorites. It means a lot to me!
Industrial had changed little since the last time Lyra had laid eyes on it; it was just as filthy and full of outstretched hands as it was five long years ago. As she and Walter walked through the crowded streets, he had explained how bad things were, but it really needed no explanation. The princess could see with her own eyes how miserable the people were, though she felt no pity for them. "Why don't they leave? They could leave Bowerstone, couldn't they? I didn't have a penny when I left the castle, but I earned enough to get by. There are opportunities everywhere," she said, sneering at a kneeling woman who tugged gently at her pant leg as she passed by. The knight looked back as they walked and sighed at his protégé's naivety. "These people aren't like you and me. Many of them are too old or too young to go chasing beasts and bandits for gold, or they just don't have the experience. Others are sick or injured. But maybe you're thinking they ought to try and steal what they can't earn, hmm? Well, that's a good way to end up imprisoned or dead."
Lyra shrugged and picked up the pace, eager to get away from the beggars as soon as possible. "I'd rather be dead than sit in the street with my hand out all day. That's no life," she scoffed, "But I guess their laziness is what keeps people like us in business. These people are too ignorant to take charge of their own destinies and change their lives for the better, so they'll gladly support this revolution. They'll support me." Walter shook his head, wondering when the princess had taken such a grim view of the world and the people in it. He certainly hadn't taught her to think that way, but he still believed that somewhere deep inside, past the cold indifference and the complacency, Lyra held some shred of compassion for her people. It was his hope that the revolution would not only free Albion of tyranny, but also help the princess grow up and shrug off the lingering audacities of youth so that she could become the ruler he knew that she could be. The one Albion deserved.
"Hey… look," Lyra said, suddenly pointing towards one of the factories up ahead. Walter squinted his eyes in the indicated direction and stroked his goatee curiously. "I wonder what's going on up there," he pondered as he studied what appeared to be a gathering of protestors, "Let's see, shall we?" The princess nodded and led the way, Boy barking and wagging his tail in agreement as he trotted towards the crowd. "Reaver is exploiting us! We deserve fair pay," bellowed a man standing atop a makeshift stage. Lyra frowned, realizing that it was nothing more than further complaining by the ungrateful citizenry as they came to a stop just outside the entrance to the small courtyard-type area in front of the factory. She glanced at her companion and smirked "This brings back memories, doesn't it, Sir Walter?" The old knight was, in fact, thinking the same thing. "Balls… It's just like that day at the castle. Well, at least your brother isn't likely to have any of these people executed."
"We demand better working conditions," Farrell continued, failing to notice the newcomer behind him on the factory's balcony, "We're workers, we're not slaves!" Lyra's gaze lifted from the protestor when a loud ping echoed across the courtyard. Though they had been drooping with boredom up until that point, when her blue eyes came to rest on the one responsible for the sound they shot open. Her lips parted slightly in shock. She hadn't expected to see Reaver, not there. The princess' cheeks flushed as she stared, her heart racing. He hadn't changed a bit, not that she had expected him to, and he was just as dashing as she remembered. Though their first encounter had been fleeting, it had left a lasting affect on Lyra, forever shaping the way she viewed the world around her and what she perceived as appropriate or inappropriate. To see him now nearly made her go weak in the knees.
Reaver tried once more to get Farrell's attention by clanking his cane against the rail, but the oblivious rebel ignored the sound yet again. "There's only one thing for it," he said firmly, "We have to stand up to Reaver!" Fed up with trying to do things peacefully, the eccentric aristocrat took aim and fired into the back of Farrell's knee. As he fell, grabbing his leg in pain, the frightened crowd finally gave Reaver their full attention. "But lying down is so much easier than standing up. My dear friends. In order to raise morale, I am offering prizes to the most deserving workers. The rules that will govern what I like to call the Reaver Team Spirit Award, are these: firstly, any worker that so much as murmurs another complaint," he paused to fire another bullet into the wounded protestor, "will be shot."
While Walter flinched at the business tycoon's appalling behavior, his young companion could not hide her amusement. Though she received a disapproving nudge from her mentor, Lyra snickered uncontrollably like an adolescent with a crush on the schoolyard bully. "Secondly, any worker who takes more than a three second break will be shot," Reaver said, punctuating his statement with yet another shot at Farrell, "Thirdly, any worker who breaks any other rules I have yet to formulate, will, yes, you guessed it, be shot." The last bullet seemed to do it and Farrell took his last forced breaths before death ceased his painful writhing on the stage. The workers attending the protest were horrified. Some cried while others trembled with rage and fear, but Lyra could only marvel at how easily Reaver had handled the situation.
"You may return to work now. As you know, I am a generous man, and likely to start handing out prizes right away. So go on. Shoo! Be off with you! Chop chop," he smirked brandishing his pistol menacingly while the workers scattered. The princess grinned to herself and wished Walter wasn't there. If she'd been on her own, she would have blown her cover and fired on Reaver just to see him in action. Lyra desperately wanted to meet him again. She wanted him to notice her, to look at her the way he had looked at her in the ally. Alas, she could not risk someone as close to the king's ear as Reaver recognizing her. He was an avaricious sociopath who'd be all too happy to collect the bounty on Lyra and Walter's heads. So as much as she admired him, she knew that now was not the time to go chasing after childhood crushes.
The pair turned away as Reaver disappeared back inside the smog-spewing factory and continued on their way. "That's why we're here. That's why Albion needs you," Walter said, "Your brother must have been out of his mind when he handed control of Industrial to Reaver." "Is it really so bad? He's giving these miserable peasants work," she said, flinching when the knight turned on her, eyes blazing. "That's just the sort of thing I'd expect Logan to say, not you. Don't be so callous, Lyra! What would your mother say if she heard you talking like that?" While she was initially shocked by the outburst and even momentarily regretful of her words, the princess clenched her jaw tightly and stared back. She stood toe to toe with Walter and proudly lifted her chin. "I don't suppose she would have much to say these days, do you? My mother is dead," she spat, shouldering past the seething man and crossing her arms.
Walter's gaze fell to the street and his eyes softened. Lyra was putting up a tough front, but he could tell the mention of her mother had cut her deeply. It wasn't because she was dead, but because the old Hero Queen had not spared much time for her daughter even when she was alive. "She never cared much for bloody complaints either," he said, turning towards the princess with a smile, "Your mother was born on the streets of Old Town, but she didn't sympathize with those unwilling to work and make a difference in their own lives." Lyra looked over her shoulder and dropped her arms back to her sides. For a moment, she almost wanted to have the old knight tell her one of his famous stories about her mother, but decided against it. Knowing that the Hero Queen had held a similar view of the beggars in Bowerstone was apology enough and she smiled faintly.
"We should go on," Walter said, squeezing her shoulder gently as he continued on, "It's time you met the Bowerstone Resistance." The princess nodded solemnly and looked once more towards the factory before following her mentor. "Oh, Walter… not a pub," she groaned as they neared the Riveter's Rest. He chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. As parched as I am, we're not going in there," he grinned, leading her past the busy pub and down a short flight of stairs beside the canal. He paused outside a rusted door and gestured towards it with a wave of his hand. "Right, this should be the place. Somewhere beyond this door is the base of the Bowerstone Resistance. Ready when you are." Lyra eyed the door with a frown. Why did all of their potential allies have to reside in such unappealing locales? The Dwellers in that dreadful, freezing mountain, the Swift Brigade in the putrid swamp, and now the Resistance in a stinking sewer. "It's like we're gathering up a bunch of filthy rats to try and take on a lion," she sighed to herself, pulling the creaking door open slowly.
"I really love how much time we're spending in caves and sewers these days," Walter said sarcastically as they trudged through the muck, "No, really." Lyra chuckled. The old knight's speluncaphobia strikes again. She had asked him several times over the past few months why he had such a disliking for subterranean areas, but he always declined to answer. It was one of the few things he seemed tight-lipped about, which confused the princess. It wasn't like him to keep anything to himself, but she supposed everyone needed their private issues. Avo knows she had plenty. "I should warn you, I don't know what kind of reception we'll get. I know their leader well enough, but it was never safe for me to come down and meet the rest of them," he said, "And they're not exactly the most trusting of people." "I would imagine they aren't. And probably not the trustworthy kind either. Are you sure this is a worthwhile venture? I've never been that fond of sewer rats."
Walter smirked and didn't dignify her question with a response. As they neared a crossway in the tunnel, he plucked a torch from the wall and held it aloft as he called out to anyone within earshot. "Hello? Hello? …Maybe we've got the wrong place," he thought aloud, shrugging to Lyra, "Let's, you know, get out and- -" "Don't move," came a command that caused them both to jump. The culprit cocked his pistol and trained it on the pair, prompting the princess to unsheathe her blade while several other rebels joined their friend in preparing their firearms. "We won't move if you won't shoot. Deal?" Walter held both the torch and his free hand upwards to show he didn't mean any trouble, but Lyra merely scowled, ready for blood. In fact, she was probably a little too eager to spill some. Kidd seemed to pick up on the bloodlust in her eyes and gestured towards her with his pistol. "You better tell your friend that."
Walter looked to his protégé and spoke calmly. "It's alright," he said, relieved when she actually obeyed by lowering her blade, "Just do as he says." "Who are you and what're you doing here?" "I'm Walter and this is… well, that really doesn't matter right now. We're here to speak with Page." Somewhere behind the stacked crates, a rifleman grimaced, "I say we shoot them!" The old knight did his best to calm the situation, but the hardheaded rebels simply didn't want to give him a chance to explain. "Listen! We're on your side! Just hear us out!" "We don't make deals with spies," Kidd growled, "Shoot." "Wait!"
Lyra was prepared to defend herself; she could already hear the triggers being pulled and tensed. "Put your weapons down," said a dark-skinned female, approaching from the tunnel behind her companions, "I thought I gave the orders around her, Kidd." The man highly resembled a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before supper as he lowered both his weapon and his head. "Sorry, Page. Got a bit carried away." The princess scoffed, but Walter gripped her shoulder before she could say anything that might put them right back at a disadvantage. "Walter," Page said, "Glad you're alright." "And I'm glad you came when you did," he chuckled.
The woman grinned and veered off slightly to move in a different direction. "I wasn't exactly expecting you. Let's talk somewhere a bit more private," she said, waving them over. Lyra put away her sword, though reluctantly, and sneered at the guards as she and Walter moved past them to follow the resistance leader. "I had this whole plan, you see, but I… well," the knight said, seemingly disappointed in how his plan hadn't gone smoothly, "We ended up leaving the castle earlier than I thought." "I heard. Pity. Your messages were always useful." "I can offer you something better." The princess regarded her mentor with a raised brow. Messages? So Walter had been keeping something else from her all this time. While they were in the castle, he was spying on the king all along. She grinned to herself. She had to applaud his cunning. Logan hadn't suspected a thing.
As the trio entered a room that bore a striking resemblance to the War Room in the castle despite the fact that it was in a sewer, they gathered around the large, circular map in the center. Walter turned to his young companion and raised his hand to say, "Page, I'd like you to meet- -" "I know who she is," she interrupted without even looking in the woman's direction, "I thought you'd know better than to bring the princess here." Lyra narrowed her eyes on Page. She could tell right away that they were not going to get along. Then again, it clearly wasn't a social call and the only thing she needed from this rude little sewer rat was a pledge of support. "She's not just the princess. She's a Hero," Walter said, easily noting Lyra's rising temper. Page rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Great. Give her a medal."
The princess gritted her teeth, only holding her tongue due to the pleading look in Walter's eyes. He was silently begging her to be on her best behavior and lucky for him, he was the only one she'd make a real effort to do so for. Boy, on the other hand, sensing his mistress' dislike for the stranger's rudeness, raised his hackles and growled. He wouldn't dare act unless directed by Lyra, but he could at least voice the disapproval she was unable to. Page glanced at the collie and frowned, but turned her attention back to the knight when he spoke again. "No. I mean she's a real Hero. Like her mother." Only then did the mocha-skinned rebel lay her eyes on Lyra, though she regarded her skeptically. "Really? It doesn't change anything. Your brother is the reason we live underground. He's the reason we fight. How do we know she's any better?" "Let her prove it," he said.
The princess sighed as her honor was once again called into question. Though she always felt that people had the right to be wary, she grew weary of proving they had no reason to be. It was an act she'd have to keep up until her shapely backside was resting easy in the throne, though, so it was as necessary as it was tiresome. "It's not just me she needs to convince," Page said, "The people of this city need someone they can believe in. Prove to them they should follow you. Then we'll talk. For now, I have work to do." With those parting words, she left Lyra and Walter alone. The knight turned to her and grinned, seeming to know just how much she dreaded what he was about to say. "Looks like you have work to do too. You have a whole city to inspire." Lyra nodded and smiled half-heartedly as she turned to go. She waved sluggishly over her shoulder, heading towards the exit reluctantly.
And there you have it. Chapter 7 will follow soon. Reaver will not be joining us for that one, though. I know this isn't much of a Reaver/Princess story so far aside from her pining for him, hehe, but I didn't want to just go at it from the get go. I want you to get a feel for my Lyra. I want it to be clear that she is evil as well as why she turned out the way she did. coughMommyIssuescough.
I don't want you to love her or to hate her. I know she's pretty abrasive and unusual for a main character, but like some of my precious reviewers have claimed, there really aren't enough stories with an evil princess. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's definitely mine! Heh, well, remember to leave those reviews if you have the time, pretty please. See ya next chapter.