'Sup? So I was switching back and forth between Fable 2 & 3, keeping record of the change in scenery between the two games (I love seeing how the Fable 2 towns change). I got to Bower Lake/Millfields and started wondering why the entire lake hadn't just been drained and why Reaver's house was overlooking it. So I daydreamed up this little story. x) I know it's dumb, but I just wanted to write this. Enjoy!
P.S. The story takes place between Fable 2 and Fable 3.
"Reaver, I know I've said this already," Sparrow said sheepishly, "but you really have outdone yourself this time." She gazed out over the horizon, taking in the sight of Bower Lake in all its splendor. It glistened, bathed in the light of the moon. She heard the sounds of children laughing from the nearby gypsy camp and suddenly felt happy. She glanced up at the sky. The many stars twinkled up above. They dazzled her into speechlessness and wonder.
Reaver's eyes darted from the rim of his wine glass to Sparrow. Oh, how beautiful she looked on that particular night. Her long wavy brown hair fell gracefully about her slender figure, and her lovely hazel eyes sparkled as she gazed into the starry night. She alone never failed to render him awestruck. He shook himself out of his trance and smiled slyly.
"Don't I always?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.
Sparrow, still staring upward, smirked with amusement. "Shut up," she said.
Reaver chuckled quietly. "Here," he said as he held out a glass, "have a drink."
She turned and walked toward him. She took the glass and sat down beside him.
"Remember the last time we were here?" she asked, taking a small sip of wine.
Reaver smirked. "How could I forget?" He looked around at the three stone pillars surrounding them, then at the runes symbolising the Hero of Strength, Skill, and Will on the stone floor. They were atop of Hero Hill, the stone monument that overlooked Bower Lake. It was here that the four Heroes gathered to create the Weapon that could ultimately destroy Lucien. Reaver remembered how he and the other two Heroes combined their powers, which flooded into Sparrow, making her the most powerful and skilled of them all.
"That was when you became a god, am I correct?" he asked sarcastically. Sparrow rolled her eyes.
"What a shame it had to come at such a cost to yours truly," he continued.
Sparrow looked up at him with an annoyed expression. "Cost? What the hell did you have to sacrifice?"
Reaver glanced down at her. How cute she was when she was angry. "I'm no longer the best, mon cher."
Sparrow blushed, although she was a tad bit annoyed at his blatant arrogance. She leaned her head against his shoulder sipping her wine, and they sat quietly for a short time.
"Someday, this will all be mine," he said dreamily, breaking the silence, "and it will be fantastic."
Sparrow moved her head from his shoulder to gaze up at him. He stared into space, like she herself had been moments before.
"What do you mean?" she inquired curiously. He broke his stare and rested his eyes on her briefly.
"I've had an epiphany; I am a businessman. I can get money out of anyone and convince anyone to do anything for me. I can surely turn this place around."
"Just because you are talented at stealing and threatening doesn't mean you could make an excellent businessman," Sparrow said bluntly.
Reaver smirked, but continued. "I would be wealthy! Well, wealthier than I already am, of course, however impossible that may seem. But imagine: huge, exquisite mansions lining the shore, shops at every corner. And in the middle, mon amour, in the place of that miserable 'Guild Cave' (or whatever it's called) will be the largest, grandest manor in Albion, and the two of us may reside there forever! Now that would be excellent."
Reaver proudly looked down at Sparrow to see the expression on her face. He was surprised to see sadness in her eyes. She put her empty wine glass on the stone floor beside her and rose. She walked to the side of the monument that overlooked the lake. She folded her arms over her stomach and stared endlessly into the night.
"But why the Guild?" she asked quietly.
Reaver stared at her confusedly. "Why not the Guild?" he asked.
"I...it's..."
Sparrow's voice trailed off into silence.
Reaver rose and stood beside her.
"It's...?" he inquired quietly.
"...History."
Reaver stared at the lake.
"History? My dear, I had no idea you were interested in historical preservation. Don't you want to move on to greener pastures?"
Sparrow turned to face him with a sad look in her eyes.
"My history. Theresa's history. Garth's history. Hammer's history. Your history, Reaver. That cave holds our ancestors' knowledge and power."
Reaver continued staring at the lake.
"It's where I became a real Hero. It's where Theresa, Hammer, and I met after so many expeditions. It's a part of me. I cannot give up a part of my past."
Reaver finally turned to look at her. He took both of her hands in his and stared into her eyes.
"Well, then, I won't make you," he said.
"Do you promise?"
"Ma douce, I would go to the ends of the earth if it meant keeping you happy. I promise you that no one will alter that Guild as long as I have the power to stop it."
Sparrow smiled sweetly. "Thank you."
Reaver kissed her forehead gently and pulled her in for an embrace.
"Please, ma belle, there's no need to thank me."
He pulled away and grabbed her hands once more.
"Now then, my dear, let us celebrate. I think we'll both feel much better after this chalice of wine."