Piper: I've been playing Fable 3, and I feel sad for Logan, so I made this.

Hints of Princess/Ben, Logan/OC(VERY, VERY SMALL HINT, please don't stop reading just because the OC. She's hardly mentioned at all).

Warnings: Maybe ooc? I don't know...

I don't own Fable.

Forgiven

He didn't quite know if he was welcome there. He was not dead, and that was a good sign. it suggested that she did not completely resent him, or maybe she just had such a good heart that she choose not to kill him despite how she would like to. It was odd to think like that, to think that his younger sister may hate him. As an older brother, he did care for his sister, but he hadn't shown it well once the fear of the darkness consumed him.

Taking a step, he was in the threshold. No guards had stopped him, told him he wasn't allowed in. That was another good sign. If she hadn't given them orders to keep him out, then maybe, just maybe she had forgiven him. Forgiven him for taking so much from not only her, but the rest of Albion. He surely knew that Albion didn't forgive him, it was still hard for him to find a place to sleep and eat without being turned away by a sneering Albionite. But, his sister was the kindest of any in Albion, so maybe her heart was kind enough to do what not even he himself could do.

He continued, his boots shuffling against the familiar stairs. How many times had he walked up and down these steps? How many times while his heart was still in the right? How many times while he was engulfed by his hidden fear? How many times chasing his five year old sister, both of them giggling and laughing along the way? How many times while being chased by his mother, her Hero strong legs pretending they weren't as fast as he?

Taking a left, he made his way towards his sister's new room. It had belonged to their Mother, a room he never slept in himself. To many memories of running around the room, playing with his sister and mother when he was child. He entered the room, but it was empty. He could hear her voice floating from the room on the left, and looked through the door way to the child's play room.

There, on the floor, was his sister. Dressed in her old training gear, the queen of Albion sat cross legged on the floor. She had dyed the main part of her skirt and shirt sleeves black, the trim dyed white. She had a book in her hands, her voice painting the story in the air. Around her were the three children she adopted from the orphanage she had built in Bowerstone Industrial. Two boys, one five and the other six, and one little four year old girl. The boys were both pale skinned, the five year old having wild hair the color of ebony. The six year old had hair the color of dark chocolate, its length going to below his ears in slight curls. The little girl's skin was the color of snow, with hair so blond that it was almost white. Her hair was in long ringlets that went to her shoulders.

The young girl almost looked like she was his sister's biological daughter, his sister just as pale if not more so then the girl. Her hair had been cropped into a short pixie cut once she escaped from the castle. The light, almost white, blonde color came from their mother, while he got his dark hair from his unknown father. His sister had gained a glowing look about her once she triumphed over the Crawler. She had faint elegant designs near her eyes, and her lips painted a delicate shade.

He knew that she knew that he was there, but she continued to read on. The little girl, her small head rested on his sister's right thigh, began to drift off. Her eyes lids were fluttering, the story wrapping its soft words around her small mind. As the story neared its, which he knew was coming because was a story his mother had read both of them often, the little girl fell to sleep just like her two brothers.

When the book ended, his sister lay the book down on the floor beside her and her three children. Her eyes did not meet his at first, she continued to look at the designs in the carpet. He frowned a bit, before speaking in a tone loud enough to get everything across, but not too loud that it would wake the sleeping children.

"Hello, Rose," He greeted.

She looked up at him, her face frowning. His mother's inherited blue eyes stared at him from his sisters face, and he found himself remembering that his sister and his mother had looked very much alike even when his sister was just a child.

"Brother," She greeted finally, her tone devoid of anything but the natural kindness it held.

She gather her two boys in her arms, and he quickly took his chance. He strode forward, stopping just a foot short of his sister. He bent down and gently lifted his adopted niece into his arms. Rose sent him a slightly grateful look and lifted herself from the floor. The black haired boy sighed in his sleep, his small hand fisting a handful of his mother's collar. The six year old made no noise, but buried his nose in Rose's neck.

The little girl shifted in his arms, and his heart warmed slightly. His niece stirred, bringing her small hand to her mouth so that she could suck on her thumb. He cradled her gently, and followed his sister back into the main part of the bedroom. They crossed the room, into the small child's room on the right. Three children's beds were inside, the floor littered with various toys brought from the play room.

Rose tucked the two boys into their beds, and Logan made his was to the last, empty bed. He pulled the comforter back, not quite sure if he was doing anything of the bedtime quota correct. He tucked her small girl in the sheets, her small body almost swallowed by the plushness and size of the bed.

His sister cross the room and plucked a small ragdoll from the floor, bringing it over to the small girls bed. She pulled back the covers for a second, placing the doll within the girl's grasp. Unconsciously, the small girl clung to the worn doll and drew it closer to her body.

Rose motioned for him to leave the children's section of the room, which he did so without trouble. He was not very good with children, or at least that was what he told himself. He could care for them, yes, but it was not fully in his nature and when it was not something he was used to doing it was awkward.

She led him to the other side of the castle, keeping quiet the whole walk. She stopped walking once they reached the war room, the model of Albion in the middle littered with all kinds of things. The doors to the treasury were open, and he could see piles and piles of gold his sister had given to Albion. There were chests resting in the gold, filled to their brim. Cloth sacks of gold were lost inside the sea of fortune. Almost every single piece of that gold had come from his sister's pockets. How she gained such a sum, he would never know. To be honest, he didn't want to know. Something told him that if he did, it would loose its majestic quality.

His sister rested her palms across the model of the Albion map, her hands touching each town, hill, mountain, tree, and body of water with her gloved hands. His eyes landed upon the castle model itself, and found it amusing that a small pin had been stuck into the top of the castle. The end of the pin was a small pink heart, which he guessed symbolized that the castle was the home of her and her three littles ones.

"Why are you here, Logan?" Rose questioned, looking at him from her side of the map.

Logan moved his hand down, touching an old piece of parchment of his that hadn't been moved from the table yet. It was one of his old battle plans, one they had considered using during the Crawler attack. In fact, many of the papers littering the world map were the old ones they had been planning on before the war. Why his sister kept them he had no idea.

"I do not quite know myself, sister," He spoke the truth.

What exactly was he doing here?

He thought he saw her smile a bit, but when he fully looked her face was peaceful once more.

"I think I know why," She spoke again, her voice holding the elegance of a queen and the strength of the Hero she was.

Rose moved away from the table and sighed a bit. She looked up at him, her blue eyes shining, "Want to spare?"

Well then. That was something Logan did not expect to happen. He and his sister had stopped sparring once their mother passed and Logan took hold of the throne. That was about the time both of them stopped training together, and started taking separate lessons from Walter. The sudden distance from her brother had affected Rose at that time, he knew that for a fact. He himself had missed spending time with his little sister, but did not show it.

He nodded slightly, and the two made their way to the training room.

"It's been some time since I have faced off against you," Rose mused, a confident smile on her face.

Some of the tension eased, and he nodded.

"Unless you consider a year and a half ago, when you over threw me from the throne," Logan mused with her, his eyes soaking in the familiar castle halls.

"I didn't over throw you," She corrected, "you surrendered."

He couldn't hold his tongue, "And when given the chance to destroy me for all my wrong doings, you chose life for me."

It grew silent, the air a bit more stale. When he glanced at her, Rose seemed to be lost in thought. Her eyes were clouded, and her face concentrated. When they reached the training room, however, she snapped out of her thoughts. She strode over to the sword rack and pulled her sword from its hold. It was an odd blade, he had to admit.

The handle of it seemed to be made from sort of bone, something you didn't expect to see the loved Queen to be wielding. The blade was a jagged cut, and there were odd glowing designs along each side of the blade.

He was surprised to see his sister looking a bit doubtful as he unsheathed his silver long sword.

"It's been a long time since I've used this, I'd taken a liking to using my war hammer in the middle of my adventures," Rose admitted.

Yes, that was right. He could remember back then, when they were fighting their way through the darkness surging through Bowerstone Market. She had been smashing shadows three at time with one swing of her mighty hammer, crushing fallen enemies with a thundering blow to the skull. Said hammer was propped up on the other side of the room, clean and fresh for use. In a case next to it was Rose's favored pistol.

Suddenly, she smiled, and took a defensive stance, "But, even if I'm a bit rusty I bet I can beat you!"

The sore winner in him rose up, and his scarred lips twitched into a smirk, "If that's what you wish to tell yourself, Sister."

They sprung at each other, swords at the ready. Their blades clashed, the sound of grinding metal screeching into the air. They drew back and swung again, hitting each other once more. Rose suddenly lurched forward, rolling to his side. She sprung to her feet and swung out with her sword. Logan blocked her swiftly, pushing her blade away with his neglected strength.

He had often wondered if he himself had inherited any of his mother's Hero genes. The fact that his sister was now on the throne told him no, yet he found that he was slightly stronger and faster then many of the people had come sword to sword with. He would never be certain, due to the facts of his mothers corpse resting a grave and that he truthfully didn't wish to know.

They moved around each other now, calculating a strike to make. Logan lurched forward and struck, and Rose blocked his blade. She drew back, preparing for a big blow, and Logan barely had time to get out of her way. His sister truly was a fierce battler, that was for sure. Her moves were graceful and planned, unlike how they had been back at the old battle.

During the old battle his sister had almost seemed possessed, fighting with such anger and passion for Albion. Her normally kind face had worn a deep mask of anger that day, which had switched to sorrow at the end. He remember the end of that battle so clearly, it was almost as if it had happened a few days ago.

He remembered the anger and sorrow he felt himself, watching his sister hold onto the man she considered a father figure as he died. The death of Walter had take a toll on the Queen, and she had been reduced to hysterics after Walter passed with his symbolic last words. She had been pulled into the arms of that one rebel, Ben Finn he believed was his name. Ben had held her close as she clutched to him, crying as if she had lost one of the biggest parts of her. Considering how she had basically lost her other parent, she probably had.

Rose had been much more composed at Walter's funeral, at Walter's statue over his grave. Towards the end when everyone was leaving, however, she had seemed much more morose. Almost as if she was being abandoned.

Clink!

Screech!

There was a swooping noise as both of their swords cut through the air. They both stopped, and examined their tie. Rose was angled so that he blade was inches from Logan's throat, and he was standing with his blade about to slash her stomach.

They both pulled away, and Rose smiled slightly, "Looks like we both are still pretty sharp."

He nodded slightly, sheathing his sword.

Rose gentle placed hers back on the rack, and it suddenly got more quiet. Rose looked out the windows, examining the world below. Finally, she looked over her shoulder, "Logan, does this visit having anything to do with Elliot?"

Elliot. The annoying old boyfriend of his sister. Sure, he did not like the boy, but that did not make it alright for him to kill the boy off. Technically, his guards did the killing, but it was Logan who gave his sister the ultimatum. It was one of the hardest decisions for her to make, that he knew. Back then his sister was easily a follower, and she had danced to the Piper's tune when Elliot told her to never forget what Logan had done. Even so, it wasn't something she would've forgotten anyway.

"Not just about him, sister, but everything else I do believe," He spoke, and looked at the portrait of their mother smiling upon them.

His mother had the crown rested in her blonde hair, the hair long and straight. She wore royal attire similar to Rose's Queen outfit, the one she clearly had stuffed in one of her wardrobes somewhere.

"You know, I've done a lot of thinking since then," Rose spoke, and his hopes lifted slightly.

Only to come crashing down seconds later.

"I cannot forgive you completely for what you did to Elliot, or the rest of Albion," Rose spoke, "But forgiveness should not just come from me. I cannot fully forgive you unless you forgive yourself. I can see your self loathing in your face, Logan. I've been able to read you like a book since we were small."

That was something he could not do, or at least what he believed at that time. He had chosen the easy way to deal with the threat. He had become the soul thing his people feared. He gave into Reaver's ideas and corrupt money schemes, and the nightmare of the economy became real because of him. People were neglected, souls were crushed, and hearts of innocents were blackened.

"I'm getting married," Rose voiced, and his head snapped towards her.

She continued, "To Ben. You remember him?"

He nodded, and found himself finding a feeling he hadn't felt since Elliot held his sisters heart. He pushed the older brother figure inside him away, realizing he had no right to have a say in his sister's life.

"Could you... Could you walk me down the isle?" She asked, and looked at him.

At that moment he saw the little sister that always looked up at him. The little sister that came to him when he was scared. The little sister that could hardly pronounce his name in her youth. The little sister he was jealous of when she was infant, always holding their mother's attention. The sister he saw change due to his neglection, the reign of Albion slightly poisoning his brain.

"If that is what you want of me," Logan said, and felt more lost then he ever had.

He was strong, yes, but a man with no home was bound to feel emotions. A man who ruined lives he attempted to save, when he was to blind to see the right way to rescue his people.

Rose frowned a bit, and crossed her arms over her chest, "Are you even going to try? Even if you didn't do the right thing, you still tried to save Albion, Logan. We all make mistakes, and some are larger then normal. But, you're only human."

"And you are the Hero," He pointed out, making her frown deeper.

She jabbed a finger into his chest, "You may not have gotten all of mom's 'Hero' blood in you, but you know what? I saw you fighting the darkness with us, killing shadows that could've been taking lives had you not stopped it. You may not have Hero blood, but you are a Hero. People may not be able to see it because of your past actions, but you did fight. You fought for Albion, and you defended Albion."

Logan could say he was shocked, but that didn't quite cover it.

He looked down for a few moments, lost in his thoughts, before he looked back up, "I would like to walk you down the isle, if that is alright with you, Sister."

Rose smiled.

Rose could hardly take it any longer. Today was her wedding day, supposedly the best day of her life. Well, the best day of her life shouldn't consist of being poked a prodded like this. She knew that the pamper and attention came with being Queen, but the stylists that had been hired had moved the crown on her head several times. They claimed that it had to be in the right position before she got to walk out.

Her dress, even she had to admit, was beautiful. It had a see through, white long sleeve shirt sowed in it. The silk snow white dress it self was considered strapless, even with the "undershirt". It was high enough to cover herself, but low enough that one could see the blue glow of her royal tattoo on her chest.

The dress billowed around her with a graceful appearance. She had arm slips, going from her elbow and hugging her arm down. They stopped at her wrist underneath her arm, the top side going to her middle finger in a point. She wore soft white slipper type shoes on her feet, which were slightly uncomfortable. An old necklace of her mothers rester around her neck, a silver choker with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds embedded into it. Silver earings dangled from her ears, gleaming in the light.

Her make up consisted of shades of white, silver, and a soft gold. The look added a certain calming quality to the natural designs that appeared on her face through her travels. It made her blue eyes stand out against the pale shades of her face.

The stylists were just finishing stringing little white flowers into her white blonde hair when there was a knock on the door. It was opened, and the familiar face of Page peered into the room. She looked at the Queen and smiled, speaking aloud, "It's time to get you down the isle, everyone's getting anxious. Sabine said and I quote, 'If she doesn't come out soon I'm gunna blow the door down and have Boulder drag her down the isle.'"

Rose laughed, and lifted her self away from the vanity mirror. The stylists bowed to her, and she exited the room. Page led Rose through the castle, until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Logan stood there, dressed elegantly in his dark colored attire. He looked upon his little sister and saw his mother's beauty within her, and he managed to offer her a small smile.

Page gave her a soft punch to the shoulder before darting up the stairs. She entered the throne room, and from where Logan and Rose were they could hear the chatter people become quiet. Music began to play softly, and Logan hooked Rose's arm in his own. She smiled at him, and the two slowly began to follow her three children up the stairs.

The two boys were both the ring bearers, and the little girl was obviously the flower girl. There were no brides maids or anything else, Rose having reluctantly admitted that she did not have enough female companions to actually have the correct wedding qualities. It didn't seem to bother her now though, as she smiled at the backs of her children.

Logan led her up the last step, and they crossed the hall. They went into the throne room, were a second seat had been installed, and were instantly seen by millions of Albion inhabiters. They made their way down the isle, stepping on the small white petals her daughter, who Logan had learned was named Lily, tossed adorably here and there.

Adam and Rufus, the five year old and the six year old son, made it to their positions. Next was Lily, and then it was Rose. He released her arm, and she gave him a smile. He moved to his position off the side, and watched as the golden haired Ben Finn took his sisters hands. Ben was slightly taller then his sister, just barely. It was quite a accomplishment, to be taller then one with Hero's blood.

The priest began to speak, and Logan looked out at the sea of people. He could spot Sabine and Boulder near the front, the larger of the two looking a bit teary eyed. Next to them was Page, and he was surprised to see the feisty woman in a dress. It just didn't seem to fit her, yet that didn't stop it from complimenting her features. She did, however, look a bit irritated that Reaver had chosen to take a seat next to her.

Reaver eyed the marrying couple, but Logan could not distinguish what was going on inside that man's head. He certainly didn't want to.

Logan turned, and watched as Ben got down on one knee. Rose had a specially made King's crown in her hands, and she delicately lay it in his straw colored hair. Ben rose from his feet, smiling softly at his sister. As much as he annoyed him, Logan knew that Ben would be good to his sister. He could tell that they cared deeply for one another, and everyone one in the room could feel their love.

"You may kiss the bride," The priest said, looking up.

Rose looked into Ben's eyes, and saw many things to come in the future. They both smiled slightly, and bent forward. The light from the windows glowed around their kissing silhouettes, and people stood up and cheered. A few people began to throw white confetti into the air, raining it down upon everyone as the couple began to leave the throne room. They were followed as they made their way down the stairs.

The after party was booming with life in the gardens of the castle. Various tables of drink and food were set up around, and couples were dancing to the hired band's music. While everyone was enjoying these festivities, the newly weds found themselves at the back of the garden. They stood at the grave of their fallen friends, and Ben rubbed his hand across Rose's shoulders. She sniffled slightly at the standing statue of Walter Beck, but did not cry.

She plucked a flower from her bouquet, and placed it at the statue's feet.

Ben smiled at her, gave the statue a thoughtful glance, and led his wife back to the part before she had to much time to dwell.

Logan himself stood along the sidelines, watching the part unfold with a glass full of ale. He took a gulp from his mug, and watched as Reaver strolled past with two woman, one under each arm. He narrowed his eyes, and said loudly, "If you are going to be making your own party, Reaver, take it to your home. Do not soil the royal family's castle with your 'activities'."

Reaver waved a hand, "Pshaw, I wasn't planning on it," He gave the two girls a silky look, "yet."

The girls giggled, and Reaver was looking after a male figure that had walked past. He made up a loud speech to the girls and trailed after the poor male, and Logan shook his head. Reaver was probably going to be breathing down his sister's neck all the time now, asking when the next royal party would be.

Logan saw a group of three girls off the side, giggling and looking in his general direction. He frowned a bit, before the white, flowing material of his sister's dress came into his view.

Rose stopped in front of him, offering a hand, "Can I have a dance, Brother?"

His scarred lips twitched slightly, "You may."

Logan could tell that Ben still didn't like him very much. How could he, when it was he who sentenced Major Swift to his grave? He tried to keep his spirits up, thinking back on his sister's words that day he gained enough courage to come to the castle.

"How're you?" Rose questioned, as they spun around in synchronization with the few other couples dancing in their area.

"Fine," He replied, and saw his sister three children running around people a few feet away, "How does he feel about them?"

Rose glanced at her children with a fond smile on her lips, "He loves them. They adore him, also. You know, Lily keeps asking me if her 'Unca Logan' is going to be living with us."

Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, are you?" She asked.

"I did not know that I was offered to stay," He mused.

She gave him a look, and he was once again reminded of his mother.

"If your new partner does mind my presence, living here would not be to bad," He said, teasing slightly.

Rose smiled, her face lighting up.

A finger tapped his shoulder. He turned, and looked down slightly at Ben, who wasn't holding much emotion in his face.

"May I take my wife from your hands?" Ben asked, and tried to put the usual humor in his voice.

It was hard to do, knowing that Logan was the one who had Swift sent to death. But, he had to try, for Rose's sake.

Logan nodded and handed Rose off to Ben once more in that day. He went back to the sidelines once more, and found that the giggling group of girls were still there. There was a short black haired female in their group, her face covered with a blush. He acted upon an impulse, and walked towards their group. The girls froze as he neared, and once he was close enough he realized that the blushing black haired girl had the most soft royal blue eyes he had ever seen.

He extended his hand to her, and she was nudged forward by her friends. She blushed heavily, and shyly took his hand. He joined his sister and brother-in-law in a dance. His partner had hands as soft as silk, and a voice as gentle as a butterfly. He couldn't help but begin to think to himself. This time, he wasn't haunting himself.

Maybe it was time to forgive. Time to forgive, but never time to forget.

Piper: Whoo, done! I hope you all liked it!

Please review, and tell me how I did on my first Fable fanfiction!