A.N. : Hello! I just want to say that this is my first Fable fanfic and I am hopelessly obsessed with Logan 3 This little story just popped into my head over the summer when I read a couple of cute stories where Logan was the son of Reaver ^^
Disclaimer: Any and all things in this story from the game all belong to Lionhead Studios no matter how many lamps I rub... REGARDLESS, I will never give up!
And now, without further a do;
A Son of Reaver.
He woke with a start as his small frame shot up from the comfort of his pillows and sheets. He was breathing heavily, plagued once again by the nightmares he had no memory of the moment he woke. Logan ran a shaking hand through his midnight hair. His feet touched the floor soundlessly after he struggled out of tangled sheets and blankets with as much strength a half asleep and frightened seven year old could manage.
Glancing around his bedroom he could make out details of the lavish furnishings and various nick-nacks that adjourned his walls and shelves. Assuming it must be early he decided to wake up now, finding no point in falling back into a hellish sleep. So he went to his closet and dressed and once finished he walked towards his window, his eyes still heavy with sleep and he groggily pulled open the blinds. He winced as soon as he did though, the bright glow of dawn burning his retinas.
Logan pulled the blinds back, the dark purple velvet cool against his fingers. He trudged with heavy legs over to his nightstand where three items sat; An untouched glass of water, a book and most importantly to Logan, a candle.
A ghost of a smile was formed on his pale lips as he looked upon his book. He had found it in the library only a week ago and was immediately captivated by its tale. Lucien the Lunatic was the title of this brilliant work. Logan's small smile grew slightly as his thumb ran across the intricate symbols that adorned the calloused leather bound book. It saddened Logan to know that he only had 17 chapters left out of the forty-two that he started out with a week ago. But that would not stop him from finishing this book. He took great pride in his reading ability and comprehension of novels such as this, unlike his father, King Gabriel. A sharp shiver shot up Logan's spine as he remembered his father and his absolute animosity towards reading- and Logan for that matter.
He shrugged it off. 'Can't think about that now,' he thought to himself as he grabbed his book, 'if I distract myself like I did last time I'll waste precious sunlight and when I try to read after he wakes up...' Logan's thoughts trailed off, not wanting to remember the incident that took place the time Logan spent the entire afternoon reading- Avo forbid- instead of doing something more "productive" like wrestling in the dirt with the Nobel's sons or training with Sir Walter.
Logan scowled as his father's words echoed in his head. "Reading will never help you to become a great ruler. All reading does is waste time, and when you choose to waste your own time, you become a waste of time to others. Guess it's too late to fix that, eh boy?" He walked away laughing, stumbling slightly from the alcohol, his laugh raspy from years of smoking and his disgusting, out of shape stomach jiggling as his laughter boomed and his head- covered in non-existent hair- was thrown back over-dramatically, as if what he just said was the funniest thing in the whole of Albion.
Shaking his head, Logan pulled himself from furthering his bitter thoughts and tiptoed out of his room and into the castles private gardens. He took his usual place beneath the tree in the farthest corner if the gardens, never much in the mood for the company of others, especially as he read.
He reached chapter nine before he realized there were footsteps off in the distance. He stole a glance from his book to look in the direction of the gates as they opened. Letting someone out? No, they were letting someone in. That someone happened to be unusually tall, pale, thin, and very handsome, he noted as he saw the maids swooning and the male servants bristling with jealousy at this stranger's clearly superior looks.
The stranger's boots clicked against the cobble walk way and his cane tapped along with every other footstep. His tall top hat bobbed slightly with each step and his long white coat, lined at the collar and sleeves in black fur, blew out behind him dramatically as the wind blew against him. As he got larger in Logan's vision he noticed that this man had the same rare characteristics as his own; bright green eyes, incredibly pale and flawless skin, superior height (thanks to Logan's height, he looks more like a ten year old then he does a seven year old), and most noticeable of all, though mostly hidden under the stranger's humorously large hat, they both shared the same raven hair color. The stranger looked over to Logan and froze. He stood and stared for a few moments before smirking at Logan and proceeding towards the castle.
At the front doors of the castle stood an impatient looking Queen Sparrow and an impassive- and no doubt tipsy- King Gabriel. Reaver smirked as he approached the couple and bent into a steep bow. " Your majesty," he took Sparrow's hand in his own and kissed her knuckles softly, earning a growl from the King at his right. " Ah, I see you've brought your pet Hobbe to the meeting as well! Splendid, absolutely marvelous. It's truly incredible how well behaved it is without it's leash. How do you do it your majesty? Must be the Hero's charm, eh Love?" Reaver cooed at Sparrow who only rolled her eyes and gestured for him to follow her and her husband inside.
How could he have gotten away with that? He just insulted the King of Albion, and to his face no less! Whoever this stranger was, Logan decided, he rather liked him.
A.N. : Well here it is, chapter one! Hope you liked it, please review I would appreciate it greatly! Also, if there are any errors with my grammar or punctuation please tell me! Any questions, feel free to PM me or leave it in the review, I will answer it :D Thanks for reading!