A/N: I just replayed through Fable 3 on PC, and I just had to write a Reaver and Princess/Queen centric story. Hope you enjoy it, and PLEASE leave feedback. I would love to hear it!
*UPDATE* Unbound has now been finely tuned to correct some slight errors. There is now one completed sequel 'The Bargain' to enjoy, as well as a second sequel 'Resistance' that is currently unfolding! Please follow, favorite, and most importantly (love it or hate it) review! Nothing makes an author want to continue providing great stories more than hearing the thoughts and feedback of the readers, so please take a few moments to leave yours at the end of each chapter!

-Prologue-

The sun shone bright over the garden behind Bowerstone Castle. I decided to take my reading outside for the day. Elliot had been away for three days now, and I found myself missing him more than I thought. We had been friends all our lives, but over the years it had transformed into something else. I smiled vaguely to myself as I settled down onto a bench by the view of Bowerstone. Elliot's father was ill, and I hoped to The Light that he would come through.

I found my bookmark, and I glanced down to the book. It was the story of The Old Hero King, my father. I missed him desperately. I hadn't really known my mother, so Father was my everything. When he died, the whole nation dipped into a black depression that still hadn't quite lifted. I opened the pages, to find that I was coming up on the introduction of the least favorite of my father's companions. The book referred to him only as The Hero of Skill or the Pirate King.

Father wouldn't go into much detail about the circumstances surrounding the master gunman's recruitment, and the book wasn't clear either. It glossed over a lot of details concerning this man, and I wondered what could be so terrible that it couldn't be published.

When Father was on his deathbed, a mysterious, cloaked man had come to him. I could only assume that was him. The Hero of Skill. He had left the bedchamber clutching his shrouded face, apparently having been punched in the face by my dying father. The morning after the man came, Father died.

I delved back into the story, though I knew every detail by heart. I lost myself in the book, devouring the story over and over again. I craved adventure, and I hoped one day to become a true Hero like my father had been.

Logan stepped into my view with a tall, handsome stranger in a finely tailored suit and a very tall top hat. I set my book down in my lap, and I saw that they were approaching the bench where I sat. I stood, and I curtsied softly to my brother as he approached. He had taken on a rather cold demeanor since he had returned from his trip to Aurora, so I tried to be as obliging as possible.

"Good Afternoon," I greeted them, smiling.

"May I present my sister," Logan said, motioning toward me. "Princess Lilyana."

Logan's companion returned my smile as his eyes drifted slowly over me, making me suddenly very aware of the length of my skirt and the cut of my blouse. "My, my, Your Majesty, I had seen The Princess from far away, but I had never been able to take in her truly breathtaking beauty before."

"Lily," Logan said, "This is Mister Reaver, my new business associate."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Reaver," I said, holding out my hand.

Reaver took it, and he pressed his mouth against my knuckles, his eyes sparkling with a dark playfulness.

I was used to my hand being kissed, but the way he kissed my hand, suggested that it was more than just a greeting. I felt my face blush.

Logan cleared his throat, very obviously annoyed, and Mister Reaver released me, straightening his posture and adjusting his hat.

"I'm glad to see that little friend of yours has finally decided to go home," Logan said.

I pressed my lips into a hard line, but I softened my expression. "Yes, Elliot's father has fallen ill, and he rushed home to spend what may be his last days with him."

Logan's lip twitched, but he just nodded dismissively. The Logan I had grown up with would have taken me into his arms and comforted me, but my brother had become a completely different man since losing his entire fleet in Aurora. He had become hard and cold and distant. I missed him.

"It is quite a beautiful day for some reading," Mister Reaver said, glancing to my book. His eyebrows raised, and his smile broadened. "Are you interested in the tale of your father's heroics?"

I nodded, smiling. "I aspire to be as noble and heroic as he, one day."

Reaver laughed softly to himself, and his eyes drank me in.

I found myself looking over Mister Reaver's face. My heart thudded, and I drew in a deep breath. Something about this man screamed that he was dangerous, but I couldn't help but find him attractive. His face was like a sculpture: with high cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, and a square, chiseled jaw. He belonged in a museum. I was drawn deep into his dark eyes.

When he noticed me inspecting him, he tilted his face to better capture the light, giving the perfect view of every, beautiful angular contour of it..

I blushed and averted my eyes, grasping my book tightly.

"Lilyana, your dancing instructor is probably waiting," Logan said, giving me the very obvious hint to leave the two of them alone to discuss business. "It's his job to teach you how to dance, not to wait for you all hours of the day."

I curtsied, and I bade them each goodbye.

"I hope to see much more of you in the future, Princess," Mister Reaver told me, bowing deeply once more.

There was something about him that sent a chill down my spine and a flush through my body. I turned to hurry toward the kithen's entrance. I needed to hurry if I hoped to arrive to find my instructor in a good mood. I hadn't intended to be so late. Dancing was my favorite past time outside of my lessons with Walter.

I skidded into the room to see Master Nordstrom tapping his foot impatiently at me. I heaved a breath, and I set my book on the table.

I skipped supper, not wanting to intrude on my brother's business. I, instead, had decided to ask Walter for an impromptu lesson in melee. After I had worn Walter out, I took back up in the garden, huddled under the nearest lamp, eating an apple and looking over a new book.

"Such a lovely face to keep buried in a book," tutted Mister Reaver as he approached.

I closed my book, and I glanced around, swallowing my bite of apple. He was alone. Perhaps Logan had dismissed him and locked himself in the war room again. He'd been doing that a lot as of late. "There's not much to do around here, sir," I replied, offering a smile.

"A princess surely has many options for activities to keep her busy," He said, his eyes twinkling.

"Life at the castle is not as exciting as one might think, Mister Reaver," I told him.

"Perhaps not, but that doesn't mean you can't make a little fun for yourself."

"Excuse me, sir," I said standing up. "I should be going."

"I hear Sir Walter Beck has been training you in the art of melee combat," Mister Reaver said, one of his eyebrows jumping up.

I paused. "He is."

"And has he taught you how to use one of these?" He asked, opening his coat. He drew a weapon I'd only read about in books. It was a Dragonstomper .48. I gazed down on it, and my mouth fell open in awe.

I shook my head, but then I stopped, nodding instead. "A little. He prefers melee, though."

"I have always preferred a pistol to hitting things with my hands like a savage," he said, his eyes moving slowly over his prized pistol. "Would you like to see how this fires?"

I nodded eagerly, a wide enthusiastic smile coming across my face.

"Throw the apple," He said.

"But it's so dark, will you be able to see it in the air?" I asked.

He laughed, as if it were preposterous to think that he would miss. "Go ahead, Majesty. I will see it." He reholstered his gun, and he pushed his coat open, readying himself for my throw.

I wound up and I threw the apple into the air as hard as I could, and It flew away quickly.

Just as quickly, he had drawn his gun, and fired it, causing the apple to explode in the air.

He looked so serene with the pistol in his hand, still aimed at the air. His eyes turned toward me, and his lips curled upward.

"Would you care for a small lesson, Princess?" He asked.

I glanced around. The guards watched us attentively after the first gunshot. Part of me warned that this was a bad idea, and that I should decline, but the larger part wanted to know how the Dragonstomper felt in my hand. I set my book down on the bench where I had sat, and I returned to Mister Reaver's side.

He placed the Dragonstomper in my hand, and he wrapped my fingers around it delicately. Stepping behind me, he pressed his chest to my back, and he put his hand on my hip to adjust my posture. He ran his fingers down my outstretched arm, moving it into optimal position.

"Now, what are you aiming at, Princess?" he asked in my ear, his breath ghosting across the side of my neck.

I could barely keep the gun steady, my insides trembled from his mere closeness, but I gathered myself quickly. "The knot on that tree," I managed to breathe.

"Good," He said, his hand placing itself on my diaphragm, feeling my breath."Breathe normally, Princess."

I steadied my breathing.

"Exhale."

I obeyed.

"Check your aim."

I focused on the knot on the tree intently.

"Now squeeze the trigger."

I did, and the shot that fired struck my mark very accurately, a feat I had never been able to do from so far away. I lowered the gun, and Mister Reaver took it from me, replacing it in the holster beneath his coat.

I turned to face him, and he was smiling that unreadable smile of his.

"Very nice, Princess. It looks like you are a very apt learner," He said, his voice smooth as cream. "Perhaps I can show you even more, if you will allow." He took one of my hands into his, and he stroked his thumb across my knuckles.

The thought of Elliot crossed my mind, and I hesitated. I knew in my heart now that what I felt for him was love, and I couldn't betray that. I pulled my hand away from the statuesque man before me, and I stood straight. "Thank you very much for the pointers, Mister Reaver, but I'm afraid that I must be going."

"Oh, what a pity, my princess," he said, his lips forming a pout. "But perhaps another day."

"I think I've learned all that I need," I said, stepping back to retrieve my book.

His eyebrows shot up, and he laughed, almost shocked. "I suppose you have." He cleared his throat. "Scurry off, little Princess. I'm sure we will be seeing much more of each other."

I turned, and I walked away, clutching my book to my chest. I chanced a glance back at him, and I saw that he was watching my every move with a deep, steady stare: the way he had looked at the apple in the sky. I gulped, and I turned the corner into the kitchen.