Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, I have been informed that Castle Fairfax happens to have a new owner. Of course, that property is not cheap. Why, it is even more expensive to own than my manor in Bloodstone. That means that this new owner must be awfully wealthy.

Now I shall make my request simple. Kill this new owner. Frame it as though they were unfortunately killed in a break-in gone wrong. The people of Albion will no doubt grow fearful of buying the castle, following the fall of the Fairfax family and of this new owner, and I can swoop in and add the castle to my assets.

You will, of course, be paid a fair amount for making this happen. And if you do not, you know the consequences.

- Reaver

P.S. Destroy this note before carrying out your attack. We wouldn’t want anything incriminating left behind, do we?

Sparrow gritted her teeth as she read the note left behind on the body of a bandit who had attacked her newest property – Castle Fairfax.

Initially, she had been suspicious of the butler who was present at the castle when she first stepped through the doors as being responsible for the attack. He had told her to try out the bed in the royal chambers, and upon waking, he was stood over her, saying that bandits were attacking. Before she was even out of bed, she was surrounded. Luckily, in spite of her lack of weapons at that point, she could still use her will abilities.

But now... Now she knew exactly who was responsible.

Reaver.

He had supposedly left Albion over a year ago to go to Samarkand, but clearly, he had returned.

Of course he would have, he needed to make his annual sacrifice to the Shadow Court...

After working with guards to remove the bodies of the bandits, Sparrow left her property, locked the doors, and made her way towards Bowerstone to prepare for her journey.

She had a pirate king to talk to.

Upon reaching Bloodstone a few days later, following what felt like a horrifically long time in Wraithmarsh, Sparrow tutted. It was late evening, and knowing the one who she was seeking, he would most likely be up to... Particular activities. Whether he was up to something or not though, she would be having words with him tonight. Even if it meant dragging him out of his bed as bare as the day he was born.

She made her way uphill towards the manor, and saw two guards stationed outside the gates. They hadn’t spotted her yet, in spite of her will lines making her stand out in the dark, so she reached for her rifle, and aimed.

Two gunshots later, and her way in was clear. She grabbed hold of a key from one of the dead guards, unlocked the gate, then kicked in the door. It did hurt her foot momentarily due to it being a heavier than she was expecting, but she quickly recovered and marched into the building.

Within seconds of entering she heard a click, and the barrel of a gun pressed against her temple.

“My my…” Sparrow bit the inside of her lip, and exhaled loudly through her nose. “When I heard a disturbance outside, I was certainly not expecting it to be you, Sparrow.” His voice was just as cocky as ever.

She scowled as he took a step closer to her, but kept his gun positioned against her head. “I wouldn’t have had to cause a disturbance if I had no reason to, Reaver.” Her voice was laced with contempt as a few small sparks crackled around her fingers.

“Oh? And what is this reason?” Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could envision the raised eyebrow and hint of a smirk on his face. “Do be quick about it though, you disturbed my preparations for something very important, and I would like to return to it as soon as possible. Chop chop!”

Sparrow finally glanced towards Reaver from the corner of her eyes when she went to respond to his question, and grimaced when she saw that the man was shirtless.

“Does Castle Fairfax ring any bells?”

The pistol was brought away from her head as Reaver hummed with amusement. “So... The one who managed to somehow wrangle enough funds to purchase the castle...” He began to laugh, then grabbed hold of the woman’s wrist tightly. “Come with me.”

“Remember that I can use my will just as quickly as you can pull out your gun, Reaver... You dare try to kill me, and I will bring you down with me – immortal or not.”

“Oh, I so do love when a woman is as feisty as you are, my dear.”

Soon, Reaver opened the door to a room, pulled Sparrow inside, then locked the door behind them both. Once again, she found his pistol pointed in her direction, though she could tell that he was not serious about shooting her – she wasn’t too sure why or how she could tell, but she knew that he would not pull the trigger. Perhaps her threat had been enough to stop him?

“We can discuss the Castle Fairfax situation after my party, so if you would be so kind, put on one of the dresses from the closet and join me as a guest of honour,” he smirked at her, before using his gun to gesture towards one of the wooden closets to make her approach it. “It would be an incredible sight, ma chérie. Two of Albion’s most beloved people attending side-by-side...”

Sparrow was puzzled about two things – one being her curiosity about as to how Reaver happened to have a closet filled with dresses, the other being how nonchalant he was regarding the attempt on her life just so he could buy himself a castle. It took a moment for her to pull herself out of her mind however, and she began to stare at him once again. “I didn’t come here for a party, Rea-“

“I insist, oh ‘benevolent’ hero of Albion. And you shall also hand those weapons over to me. If not, then we have finished talking and I shall have you… ‘removed’ from the premises.”

Sparrow stared at the hero of skill with wide eyes for a few seconds before relenting. She had a bone to pick with him, and she was not going to let him brush her off as though the entire situation was nothing.  “Fine. But try anything funny while I change, and you’re dead.”

“Do not worry, I must prepare myself for the party. My perfect looks rely on sufficient preparation – which you just so happened to disturb,” Reaver stated, before picking up a red dress shirt from the bed which had been there since before she had even entered the room. “I shall insist that you wear the red dress.”

Grumbling to herself, Sparrow took hold of the dress which Reaver spoke of, and got into it as quickly as she could so that the pirate king could not catch a glimpse at her body.

Her question from earlier had returned and was now playing on her mind even more. How had he managed to get a closet of dresses which perfectly fit her?!

When done, she turned to face Reaver, who was now dressed in a dark suit lined with white furs. He was pulling out a box, and had a devious smirk on his face. “Now, for the final touches... Your mask, my dear.”

“My... mask?”

Reaver tutted as he walked over to her, and placed the accessory in her hand. “So, you have not been to a masquerade before? Oh, how... innocent.”

“Do not mock me, Reaver.”

“I was not ‘mocking' you, simply... expressing my surprise. A masquerade is where all attendees of a party wears a mask. It makes you almost completely anonymous. Though perhaps with those... glowing markings on your body... You may not be as anonymous as you hope.”

She snatched the mask from his hand, and secured it to her face. “Don’t think that a party will distract me from the attempt on my life, Reaver. We will be talking about that afterwards.”

“Yes yes, of course. Now, come along, the guests should be arriving now, my dear.”

Sparrow could not argue back about how he had addressed her, for he had taken hold of her wrist and was leading her down a set of stairs, where chatter and music began to fill her ears. How, in those few minutes she had been in that room with him, had the entire downstairs of his manor fill with all these revellers? She surely would have noticed people flittering around Bloodstone dressed for this masquerade party when she arrived…

A loud clinking of a glass echoed through the room where she recalled hearing poor Barnum be shot because of how long it would take for a picture to develop… She didn’t even have the chance to see if he still had hold of the picture of herself and Rose in the Bowerstone Old Quarter from over twenty years ago, she was that busy with gathering heroes and completing quests.

The voice of a man called out from the room, presumably drawing the attention of all the people there. “Dearest guests, please give a hand for the host of this delightful evening, Master Reaver!”

Sparrow struggled to hold back a yell of surprise as Reaver pushed open the doors dramatically, still tugging her along as he did so. She then saw crowds of masked people in the most outrageous attempt at looking fancy applauding for the man who still wasn’t letting go of her arm... The man who was grabbing hold of his pistol with his other hand and aiming it towards a man who didn’t participate in the clapping.

A loud bang reverberated across the room, and Sparrow could have sworn that she could feel the noise through the floor.

Yet, in spite of what had just happened, the gaudy people did not care about the man bleeding out on the floor. They simply just continued their festivities, as though they were used to Reaver’s spontaneous killings. That, or they were fearful that they would be next if they did not participate.

“Now, go off and get yourself a drink, Sparrow. Go forth and make merry, though do not allow yourself to be lured into bed with any of those... miscreants,” Reaver muttered as he leaned into her ear, pulling her closer to him by her wrist. “If you end up in bed with anyone tonight, it shall be with me.” He then proceeded to release his hold of her, and pushed her away, leaving her scowling as she watched him disappear off into the crowd. Just as he had said that she would be identified through her will lines, it was hard not to identify him due to his height and unusual plague doctor mask. Then again, he probably wanted to stand out in spite of the supposed anonymity that the masks provided.

She also had no intentions of ending up in anyone’s bed aside from that of her own home in Bloodstone – she had acquired homes in each of the main towns and cities in Albion just in case over the past year, and clearly, it would be paying off tonight.

A few moments later, a masked attendant approached her, a tray of drinks in his hands. “Care for a drink, Madam? The finest of wines from beyond Albion's shores, courtesy of Master Reaver.”

Sparrow frowned, before giving in. One drink of wine wouldn’t hurt, right?

She helped herself to a glass, and swirled it around, looking at the blood-like crimson colour of the drink. She then brought it to her lips, and had a small sip.

It wasn’t too bad. Made the back of her throat burn somewhat, but it tasted sweet enough to compensate for that.

Aside from having her drink though, Sparrow felt completely out of her depth. She wasn’t one for parties and festivities, the closest that she had ever had to being in one was living in the Bower Lake Gypsy Camp as the people there would often dance together. Even then, Theresa kept her occupied with preparing for the day she would leave the camp to get her revenge on Lucien.

Once she finished her drink, she was surprised at somebody approaching her with two drinks. She blinked at the man for a moment when he stopped in front of her, and offered one of the drinks to her. “I happened to notice that you were almost finished with your drink, and thought I would get you another. ‘s only wine, Miss ah… Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

As the glass was more or less pushed into her hand, she felt the man moving even closer to her in order to draw her complete attention away from the party – away from Reaver. She then stared at him, and realised just why he was invading her personal space. Though he hadn’t phrased it as such, he was asking what her name was.

“Oh, sorry… It’s, um, Rose.” She mentally apologised to her sister for using her name as a way of deterring this man who seemed to be on the verge of tipsiness.

“Rose, hm? A lovely name for a flower such as you… Even your dress and mask fit the name.” As he remarked on the name which she had given, Sparrow began to feel extremely awkward in this situation, and was actually contemplating seeking out Reaver because at least she could stand his unwanted advances. “Did you come alone tonight?”

Sparrow silently gulped, and then brought the wine to her lips to give herself a few moments to think about how to distance herself from this overly inquisitive man. Once more, the hero of skill drifted into her line of sight amongst the crowds, and an idea sprung to mind. “Actually… I was brought here by Reaver.”

“That’s what all the women say for a chance to end up in that man’s bed. I’ll take that as you saying that you came here alone…”

If she weren’t wearing that mask, the glare that she was casting towards the man would not have gone unnoticed. To stop herself from snapping at the man to leave her be, or using her will to heavily imply that she should be left alone, she drank even more of her wine.

“Dance with me, Rose.”

“I would rather not…” She then decided that enough was enough, and that she was going to go over to Reaver to tell him that she had enough of his little games, and would be waiting in her nearby home when he was ready to talk. She went to walk past the man, but very quickly lost her balance. He held out his arm in front of her stomach, and caught hold of her and kept her upright.

Then came a quiet whisper down her ear as her vision began to grow hazy and dark. “Don’t think that I don’t know who you are, hero.”

Chapter Text

From a distance, Reaver was watching his surprise guest as she adjusted to the party from the corner of his eyes. Yes, he had asked for the owner of Castle Fairfax to be killed, but he hadn't known that it was Sparrow who had bought it. If there was one person in Albion he did not want dead, it was her. She was his only competition, and one of the few women who resisted his perfect good looks and charms. It made him tempted to find a way to conquer her, to bring her down to his level... He quite liked the woman, actually. Unlike all the other whores and harlots throwing themselves at him.

Then he saw her take a glass of wine from an attendant... How surprising, Sparrow actually had taste in alcohol.

At that point, he found himself being pulled away by some of the guests, and who was he to deprive them of his presence? Of course, it was quickly established that they all clearly had the ulterior motive of getting in bed with him, though he had just one person who he wanted to sleep with that night, and she was...

My oh my, somebody was trying to get her attention.

Reaver scowled in the direction of the man who was talking to his Sparrow. He had clearly brought her another drink, and...

He noticed the way that she kept trying to avoid the man, and the way that she was repeatedly sipping her drink whenever he seemed to speak to her and move closer. He was tempted there and then to simply shoot the man, though he had been the one who had told her to participate in the revelry... Perhaps she was simply unaccustomed to high society pleasures such as parties.

What quickly changed his mind was the uneasiness in her movement which was growing worse each time that he looked towards her. She suddenly faced in his direction, though she seemed to be unaware that he too was looking at her. She began to try to walk away from the man. The emphasis was on the word ‘try'.

Sparrow had fallen forward, and the suspicious man grabbed hold of her.

That piece of rotten filth was kidnapping her in plain sight.

And it seemed that there were a few co-conspirators too. Across the room, he saw the bookshelf which concealed his manor's rear passage shift slightly, just enough for a person to slip through.

Typically, he would have just gone and shot each of these kidnappers one by one. However, he found himself in the precarious situation that if he were to shoot the man holding onto her, she too would be wounded. The man seemed to know of his capability with a pistol, and was using her as some sort of barrier.

Fine. He would play along with these little games. It would end with Sparrow back with him anyway, and this party was growing oh so boring – he needed some entertainment.

A few moments after she had been pulled away from the party, and the passage was closed once more, Reaver pulled out his Dragonstomper .48, then fired it into the air. Once everyone’s attention was on him, he began to speak. “My delightful guests, it has unfortunately come to my attention that my presence is required elsewhere. You may leave, or resume the party on board my ship at the docks,” he stated, and for a few moments, there was no movement whatsoever. He tutted, and added more onto his previous statement. “I want this room empty within the next five seconds, or you all shall be shot. Five... Four...”

Once the room was vacated, he began to make his way towards the back passage of his manor, making sure that he had enough bullets for each of the people who dared lay a hand on Sparrow.

He descended down the stairs, then heard voices.

“What do we do then? Ransom?”

“She's that damn hero, of course we're gonna put her up for ransom! An' if we don’t get the money, we can sell her overseas. ‘m sure some slavers would pay a pretty penny for the most famous person in Albion.”

“D' we tie her up?”

“Obviously. Woman knows how to use all that magic crap, we can’t risk her escaping when the drugs wear off.”

Reaver scowled at what he heard. They had drugged the wine that they gave to her, that would have explained the way that she began to stagger around and then collapse. But the mere fact that they knew who she was, and were intending to either hold her to ransom or sell her made something inside him burn with anger. He may not have had morals, but even he would not have stooped this low to do something like this to Sparrow. Yes, he had asked for her to be killed for buying Castle Fairfax, but that was before he had learned that it was her!

From the shadows, he saw Sparrow limp on the ground, being bound tightly with rope. The mask which he had given her was abandoned on the ground, and the lovely red dress which he had loaned to her for the night was covered in dirt.

Before they could cause any further harm to her, he began to shoot.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

They were all on the ground in moments, as he hadn’t shot to kill. Each of them had received a bullet to either the kneecap or the foot. That was when he stepped out, spinning his gun around his finger.

“Tut tut, drugging and trying to kidnap Sparrow? For shame...” He shot the closest one of them in the head. The one who had asked about a ransom was dead. “I may be... hmm, loose in my morals, but even I would not stoop so low.” A second one was brought to a swift end. The one that had suggested selling her to slavers if a ransom wasn’t paid. “Find yourselves grateful that I am granting you the mercy of death by killing you all here I can imagine that it wouldn’t be a pretty sight when she wakes up and realises what is happening. No ropes can stop her from using her magic, you see.”

Three successive gunshots echoed around the passage. The remainder of the kidnappers were dead.

Clicking his tongue, he proceeded to remove his mask and approach the unconscious hero. Pulling out a blade from the still warm hands of one of the dead kidnappers, he cut at the ropes which seemed to be digging into her skin they had been so tight. Fortunately, she had only been bound by her wrists and ankles.

As he picked up the woman, who, for the first time since he had met her (aside from that one time on Hero Hill, which he refused to acknowledge), looked so fragile and delicate... He knew that she now owed him a debt of gratitude for saving her. Perhaps a night with her in one of those supposedly luxurious beds in Castle Fairfax would suffice...

Ah, but that was not the priority at present. He needed to get someone to dispose of those bodies, and whilst he took Sparrow away from the back passage. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were others who would attempt to finish what those fools had started.

How fortunate Sparrow was that he would not be leaving her side until she was safe at her modest little castle in Bowerstone.

It took approximately an hour for Reaver to tend to the chafing from the ropes on Sparrow’s limbs – he wouldn’t have even had to deal with doing that himself if not for him realising that his attendants were still serving drinks at the relocated party. Had it not been for the risk to Sparrow being snatched away again, he would have gone down there himself and… had a ‘word’ with them. Perhaps he would let them off if Sparrow were to wake up soon, as she seemed to spark what one would call ‘a little bit of generosity’ in him when she was around.

In addition to that, he had even gone as far as getting her out of the dress which she was wearing, and even allowing her to rest in his bed until she was to arise! If that did not talk of this generous nature which she inspired, he wouldn’t know what could.

Finally though, once he was certain that she was resting well, he sat down on an armchair beside the window, and picked up a book which was resting there to read to pass the time. He also poured himself a glass of wine to drink.

He more than deserved it, after all.