Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dead fingers talk” a dark voice whispered in the depths of her mind.

“Dead fingers whisper. Dead fingers claw at one million eyes…”

The Crawler laughed.

Bile caught in her throat. That sound. It was so... unnatural. She listened to him over and over in her head, the Nightcrawler and his many threats. She tortured herself replaying that laugh. Slowly. It was as if the being itself lived inside her mind. It was a knot in her stomach that would never be untied.
The fur beneath her hand snapped her back from the thoughts. She looked down to see those faithful eyes staring back at her. Samson had always comforted Nastarana, but since these intrusive thoughts had started he seemed even more attentive. She realised that proceedings had moved on without her; the décor had been chosen, but after that? Her mind had slipped into the darkness - the unknown. The niggling voice in the back of her head had got bigger… to the point that it was completely impossible to ignore.

She looked away from her faithful friend and drew her attention to Reaver and Kalin. Nastarana could see the overflowing attacks of the Crawler had taken their toll on her ally. Her eyes were dark, bags underneath them. In Kalin’s visits to the castle she’d spoken about how she was also afflicted by the Crawler’s touch; the nightmares, the quiet voice growing louder. The knowledge that someone else had these symptoms loosened that knot ever so slightly. Nas could see Kalin’s eyes had turned increasingly more troubled through the proceeding. Her jaw clenched, arms crossed as Reaver delivered his proposal. In comparison to the others, Reaver seemed decidedly calmer. He stood in front of Nas with his usual pompous stance. “There is an abandoned mine in the Auroran desert that holds enough materials to benefit the whole kingdom.”

Nat studied his face, it was filled with such a devilish glee. How some hero’s fall, she thought. Many of the books in her mother's study revolved around the old Hero Queen and her adventures, but the one thing never mentioned was the identity of the Hero of Skill. Almost as a favour to the man himself, he seemed rather absent of identity from the books she had sprawled over. It was only when Nas was in the midst of revolution did she feel the strange energy resonate from Reaver. The stories flooded back, making more and more sense.

“Let us employ Kalin and her people to gather what resources there may be. That can be their payment." He placed his hands purposefully behind his back, cane tapping against the throne room floor. Kalin’s eyes were afire with rage. She narrowed her sights and stepped forward into Reaver’s face, pointing her finger into it.

“You are talking about forced labour!”

The tycoon merely smiled, unfazed by her presence in his personal space, and rather happily lapping up her disdain. “Let’s not get bogged down in semantics” he purred, as he knew it would only rile her further “it’s a fair transaction.”

“Enough” the monarch interrupted. Murmurs rippled through the crowds. Walter’s demeanour changed somewhat at the interruption, his worry easily picked up by Nas. Although she had rejected every one of Reaver’s proposals in the past, she always waited patiently for the argument's end before giving her ruling. Reaver seemed fascinated by this intrusion. His eyes darted to her as she spoke, now studying her movements with a level of curiosity.

“I will keep my promise. Aurora will become a part of Albion and its people will be our equals” she stressed, locking eyes with Reaver as she did so “in every way”.

His eyes flashed with a form of glee. Walter repeated the ruling back to the court whilst the Queen and Reaver kept their gaze. She felt a strange mix of disdain and resolve when looking into the man’s eyes, but she could tell Reaver, on the other hand, felt nothing but sheer delight.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kalin said, obviously relieved. “You are a woman of honour, Aurora will be proud to stand by your side.”

“Court is adjourned” bellowed Walter, and the crowds began to disperse.

“Kalin,” the Queen called “you may stay.”

Reaver made a crude half bow to the Queen and began exiting the hall. Nas put her arm warmly around Kalin and embraced her, locking eyes with Reaver once more and he smirked on his way out.

Nas threw her crown on the armchair in the corner of her chambers and flopped onto her bed. Notes were scattered around her: official treasury documents, midnight scrawlings of half-thought out plans, notes from Jasper and Walter, court applications. The treasury funds continued to dwindle, despite her best efforts. She could see a new document has been gently placed on the pile next to her bed. More debt analysis. She reached down slowly and looked over the folder in her hand, preparing herself for more bad news.

The days before the Crawler’s coming seemed so finite.

In an instant, Nas had thrown the folder across the room. Hard. She held her head in her hands and clenched, her body glowing as she did so. She was a hero. Or so she thought. Nas tried to recall the advice of her council. Remain within the confines of the castle except for social events. The proposal seemed ridiculous to her. She needed to be outside. Her adventures would not only allow her to gain funds, but the thought of wandering outside...

It brought her a sense of peace.

They had been against it. They assured her that any absence from the castle would be seen by the people as her ‘running away’.

She scoffed at the thought.

The very idea of abandoning Albion after everything she had fought for? It was such an insult. She agreed to their demands though, there was no way that she would be allowed not to. Just in case, they appointed more guards to her. It unnervingly reminded her of her time living under Logan.
She rose from the bed and walked to her wardrobe, determined. Samson sat beside her, tail wagging. He knew what was to come. Just because she had agreed to this imprisonment didn’t mean she listened.

She looked out of her window to the land beyond. Her land. The darkness of the night began to claim the sky of the sunset. Nas shivered at the sight, feeling that cold darkness trying to spread from the knot in her stomach to her mind.

Nas changed quickly, letting her old mercenary jacket adorn her, replacing the soft and embroidered material of the Queen’s jacket. She never was one for the finery that came with being royalty. She found during the resistance that the feel of the mercenary jacket and its woollen vest was a much more appealing comfort. Even now she couldn’t fully conform. To her royal court’s disdain, she wore her highway woman’s leather trousers to every proceeding. She smirked at the thought of the nobility; horrified by the sight of her. Almost as if she were going to rob them of their gold herself.
The Queen set off out of the open window. With Samson comfortably in one of her arms, she scaled the ivy with the other. After managing to get to the appropriate statue she opened the manhole next to it and made her way through the tunnel. Once at a safe enough distance, she activated the Guild Seal.
The flash of the Sanctuary was a comfort. “Welcome to the Sanctuary” Jasper said, almost automatically. Samson bounded towards his bed in the corner as Nas stood pensively as if waiting for Jasper’s approval.

“Ah, Your Majesty, I see tonight is another of your adventures,” he remarked. She wasn’t sure if Jasper wholly approved of sneaking around, but it seemed as though without Nas’s usual adventures he welcomed the intrusion.

She looked as though she was about to speak, but Jasper held up a hand in surrender, smiled warmly and said “It is quite alright Your Majesty, Samson can stay with me until you are finished. I know how you like to be discrete.” Jasper held out her a hooded cloak and Nas took it gratefully. Without a word uttered, she dissipated in a shroud of blue hue.

Jasper observed his new companion, who happily began to sleep. Now the Queen was adventuring he began to make tea, as he would every time. He sat in a chair next to Samson, stroking the tufts behind his ear. He would wait until she returned, like a parent for their child. He sipped tea and simply waited.

Chapter Text

Reaver shot the last hollow man that stood in his way. How he loathed them. Not because they were any sort of threat, no, purely because they were the rats of the proverbial afterlife. They scurried around, appearing wherever they deemed necessary. Apparently, they deemed it necessary to be in front of him which was a very stupid error on their part.

He moved swiftly through the rest of what remained of Bowerstone Cemetery; a place not really cared for anymore, left to overgrow and degrade over the years. Reaver was not at all accustomed to wading through cemeteries in the middle of the night. Usually he would have others do his bidding, however, the news that the missing Dragonstomper.48 may be found to be in a tomb nearby was something he couldn’t resist to find for himself. He smirked. The concept of the complete set was rather marvellous to him. Count Zamoyski was a pesky little thing, the thought that all those years ago the bastard held out on him panged Reaver’s ego to no end.

Once at the grave of his long-departed enemy, he began to search for any form of secret tunnel or entrance. An hour or so passed and Reaver’s patience had thinned to breaking point; the thought of killing his informant brought a sly grin to his face and renewed his energy.

At that moment he heard gunshots. Very. Distinctive. Gunshots. Someone had beaten him to it. The anger and annoyance boiled inside of him. Now he was very sure that he would kill his informant. He unholstered is weapon. How terribly inconvenient. He set off in pursuit of the sound, with his own weapon ready to be reunited with its kin.

After being led down into a catacomb irritating close by, Reaver found himself in a room of coffins. The person in front of him was surrounded, battling their way through hollow men. Although he was annoyed that they indeed had the last Dragonstomper.48 in their hand, he was interested in seeing how they used it. The woman was one of, it seemed, immense skill. Obviously not on par with his own. The fighter appeared to be handling herself rather well, but after a short time, he began to grow impatient. He raised his weapon and disposed of the rest of the enemies in a very quick secession.

Nas had sensed when Reaver had come into the room. Although the man was extremely stealthy, the aura of his hero blood was something that radiated the atmosphere of old magic. She had slowed her movements, killing the hollow men more clumsily than her senses normally allowed. After Reaver’s ‘help’ she turned to him, placing the Dragonstomper.48 in its holster.

“Well I’m glad you finally decided to help” she remarked from beneath her hood, distorting her voice, making it sound slightly more common.

“I was rather interested in seeing your own talents, Bien-aimé” he purred back. Hot blood flushed to her cheeks, the sudden lack of etiquette a shock. She brushed the strange feeling aside.

“I didn’t realise it was so interesting to watch someone fight for their life, I’m truly flattered.” Although dry, the sentence came out slightly warmer than she’d meant it, through the hood she could see his eyes flicker at the sarcasm.

“Well” he stepped forward “as enlightening as this may be I believe you have something that belongs in my possession” gesturing toward the gun that lay in her holster. Nas smirked slightly.

“I don’t believe I recall it being yours” she retorted.

Reaver took a step towards her, as if to touch her. She stepped away. She didn’t want to be discovered.

“Mon chéri, it may not have been in my possession, but it does belong to me”. Reaver remarked. How he had not lost his temper and shot this poor girl was a mystery to him.

“How fitting your name is, Mister Reaver” Nas returned “To steal and to plunder, one’s mother would never give their child a name such as that.” The remark only added to the tension of the room rather than to resolve it.

“Well, how inquisitive one is. You make assumptions on my name” he began, getting ever closer to Nas, backing her into the wall.

“How could I possibly do the same” he leaned into her ear “when I do not know yours?” he purred.

At that moment she felt a surge of energy, a tingle through her spine. Her lips parted slightly. This whole situation was too precarious. She certainly did not want Reaver discover her, that would be too much to deal with among her other responsibilities. Reaver tried to remove Nas’s hood but instinctually she rolled out of the way, shooting a lantern of wisps as she went.

The room descended with hollow men. Reaver made a last attempt to grab Nas but only found her cloak, which fell through his fingers. She made her way up the stairs, hoping the hollow men would hold off any advance Reaver made to follow her.

Chapter Text

The next two days moved rather quickly, allowing Nas to forget the details of her adventure. The castle bustled with movement, décor in each room began to change from royal purple to the somewhat purer blue. Maids came and went, aiding decorators in their massive task. Nastarana felt rather saddened by the change, the purple wasn’t something Logan had insisted on, the walls had been that way for as long as she remembered. Her mother loved the colour, as did she, but the people only saw it as the tyrant’s symbol. Superiority and extortion leaked from the walls. So… the blue went up, lighter and purer. The mark of the new hero.
Nas walked through the halls towards her study; it was the only room in which she wished the staff left untouched by the new decoration. She thought back to her mother, the many days she spent in that room researching one thing or another. New treasures to pursue, new techniques to learn, all the while little Nas sat by her side. She smiled fondly, her heart warmed in such a bittersweet way. She would sit countless days next to her mother, not doing anything at all, just listening to her ramble on. She would want it to stay exactly the same. So, it did. She opened the door to an already roaring fire, the room full of neatly stacked books and paper, encroaching all over the desk and onto the floor. The staff always tried to keep it tidy, but it was useless; the piles grew and grew no matter what they did to tame them.

The silence of the room was a welcome change, the calm of the fire promising warmth and solitude.

Nastarana sat on her favourite armchair, her crown weighing heavily as it always did, its hope and light waning slightly. Its once pure and honest intention had slowly turned from that to a burden. "You bring the light. But it betrays you. It knows you are unworthy of its toxic gleam..." The nightcrawler constantly niggled at the back of her mind, it had nested there, fed on insecurities. Even though she had come all of this way, fought all of these people and obstacles she still wasn’t ready. She still wasn’t her mother’s daughter. Not ready. Not worthy.

“You feed us! You feed us!"

There was a gentle knock on the door, a rather flustered maid peeped her head around the corner. “Sorry to intrude your majesty… y-you have a visi…” Before the maid could finish a tall figure swiftly entered the study, cane in hand. One slow tap ensued.

“Ah your Majesty, I do hope I’m not intruding on your little détente” he said. Nas stood to greet Reaver, he came before her and delicately lifted her hand to his lips.

Nas found the gesture was both unusual and slightly repulsive. Never the less the slight tingle they both felt from the interaction was one that neither party could ignore. The blood of the heroes trembled slightly at their touch. Reaver’s eyes flashed deviously to Nas’s, studying her. She snapped her hand away, perhaps a bit too sharply.

“Thank you, Mary.” She motioned to the maid before her head could disappear “Would you mind bringing some tea, please?” The girl nodded, smiling sweetly at Nas before she closed the door quietly behind her.

“I have appointments for a reason, Reaver” the Queen stated, rather harshly, as she made her way to the fire. She stood in facing it, hands behind her back, waiting for his response.

The reaction from the Monarch to both his unannounced visit and the kiss of her hand delighted Reaver beyond measure. The subtle eruption of the Queen’s emotion in court had peaked his interest, he couldn’t deny. It was simply scrumptious that the women from the tomb he followed a few nights ago had entered a tunnel that inevitably lead to the castle. It had allowed an excuse to further investigate the ways of the Sovereign.

And investigate he did, rather greedily. As she stood before the fire Reaver found that the soft light only accentuated her delicate curves, her battle-hardened body fitting rather nicely into her royal attire. The highway woman’s trousers always made him smile, not only did they do wonders for her beautifully sculpted behind, they were proof to him that the Queen also had a deviant side. The idea of that little rebel princess… seeing beneath those clothes…

Nas turned to face him and coughed, locking her eyes to his, the Will flickering in their depths.

“Well I’m terribly sorry if I’ve intruded your grace” he began, venturing over to her desk, moving papers with his cane. “I had just assumed one wasn’t busy today as there was no court!” A paper in front of him caught his eye, as he spoke he looked it over. “If you needed an alleviation from boredom there are several delightful things I could suggest to help dull the tedium of your quieter moments. My particular favourite…”
Nas’s sword appeared as if out of nowhere, pinning Reaver’s cane against the desk, cutting off his sentence. “I don’t really have time for your shit right now Reaver, why are you here?”

Reaver’s body prickled with a deep level of satisfaction. To make the Queen have such a temper, how fiery she must be under the sheets. “My my, one is frosty this afternoon, mmm?" he removed his cane from underneath her sword, she responded by sheathing her weapon. “Very well. I have come to parley.”
Nas raised her eyebrow at him. This was an unexpected interruption. She was so very sure he hadn’t discovered her that night. Panic overcame her body, but she did her best to subdue it. She gestured to the seats by the fire, to which Reaver gracefully accepted. However, he took the chair closest to the window, Nas’s favourite seat.

This, of course, Reaver knew.

Many a time he had sat in this room with Sparrow, their discussions had not been about industry or the crown but of pure adventure. She had always chosen this seat in which to sit, he could only assume the new Hero Queen would do the same. This was only confirmed by the slight furrow of her brow, which, of course, made him smirk internally. He knew the Monarch may be young, but she had a level of composure that was, on some level, to be admired. Managing to break through even the slightest of her defense was so very thrilling.

She uncomfortably sat in the chair opposite and crossed her legs, placing her hands delicately on her knees, waiting for Reaver to speak. He stared at her for a while, as if sizing her up. She finally gave in, “You may proceed.”

He sniggered with a sense of triumph, as if he had been challenging her to break the silence. “I merely have acquired some information I thought may be some use to you,” he said, rather innocently.

“And your reward would be?”

His eyebrow peaked interest “how bold of you to assume I would want anything in return, can’t one just appear before his Monarch to offer their assistance?”

She scoffed at him. “We both know you would never do anything without it benefiting yourself. Now what is it you want Reaver?”

Reaver smiled at Nas. She seemed ever so sure of herself. “Well, you certainly have come along since the days of your little rebellion. What the Queen you have become, Mademoiselle.”

She blushed slightly. She wasn’t used to being spoken to this way, most people would only keep strict conversation with her. She readjusted her hands in her lap, shifting in her seat. A sly grin danced across Reaver’s face, pleased with the result of his words.

“My patience may be long, Reaver but it does grow thin eventually” she spoke, softly. “What is it you wanted for this… assistance, to the crown?”

“I merely would like you to peruse over a previous ruling and consider an alternative strategy.”

To this, Nas just laughed. This gave a twang of annoyance within Reaver, she so readily decided against it, as if he was just another advisor and not her equal. He imagined if this were any other person he would have simply shot them (or spanked them, depending on his mood).

“Very well, your majesty. If that is so readily off of the cards I could make another proposal.” He purred, trying to regain his sense of charm and dominance. “I would simply require my old Manor and something else… related… to the information.”

Ah. So, this is about the other night. Nastarana suspected the thing Reaver wanted was the Dragonstomper.48, he couldn’t live without the set. Nas observed that if

Reaver had any real leverage he wouldn’t have come to her in this manner.

“Reaver” The Queen leaned a little, perhaps smugly “You have demanded two things of me without telling me what I get in return.”

“Now now, your royal highness. One can’t be expected to divulge all of their secrets at once, mmm?” The heat of the fire was warm on both of their bodies. Reaver removed his hat and placed it on the table, running his spare hand through his hair.

A knock was heard at the door, Nas called for Mary to enter. The maid came in sheepishly holding the tea set and began to set it down. Nas looked over at Reaver whilst the maid laid down the tray, pouring the tea for each of them. She had never actually seen him with his hat off. He does look a lot better without it. His hands had continued to run through his hair, as if to pamper it into place, showing its black, silky nature. She found herself staring; Reaver’s face looked so much more human now. Softer. His eyes were so… captivating, the beautiful brown encompassed with gold flickers inside of them, like his skill resonated within them.

Focus. “I understand you like to play these little games, but you really need to give me something to bargain for, here.”

Reaver looked toward Mary, a tiny sneer across his face, “you can leave us now, my sweet. I hope you consider my offer… seriously” with a wink. Mary blushed ferociously, she stammered a goodbye and left, stumbling into a suit of armour as she went.

Nas looked at Reaver with a kind of bewilderment, for a moment she had completely forgotten he was Reaver. When she looked at him now his face was at is usually was, a sleezy, overconfident tycoon. “If you would please stop flirting with my staff and actually get to the point?”

He smiled a small, cheeky smile at her “Jealous, are we? Very well. I have come across some information regarding a member of your staff. I believe they are participating in some salacious activities.” Reaver looked at her, sipping his tea.

Nas picked up her own, stirred it thoughtfully.

“Salacious, you say?” replied Nas.

Reaver looked as though he had caught a fish he had spent hours baiting. “Oh very”.

“Well” Nas said, putting down her cup and standing up from her seat. “As much as I know you love gossip Reaver I do not. So, thank you for your time but I have things I need to attend to.”

Reaver sat there, slightly dumbstruck. He was never so easily refused. The anger of the rejection and her smugness riled him in a way that didn’t happen often. “I can assure you it isn’t something I would waste your time with if it wasn’t important,” he said through gritted teeth “your majesty.” He stood up as to not have to look up at the monarch. He was a head taller than Nas, an unusual occurrence for her due to her stature, a side effect of her skill abilities. “I can wholly assure you that you are making a mistake.”

“The only thing that would make me consider your offer isn’t gossip, Reaver, it would be your aid in the treasury funds. I am well aware of issues within my own castle, anything illegal or otherwise I know about and will handle. Alone.” She stated. He sniggered at the concept. Knowing the meeting was a waste of his time he collected his hat, gave a half bow, and began to walk to the door.

“There is something I feel as though in your need for preservation you haven’t quite considered” she inquired, with a progressively annoying smugness.

“Oh? Mon Chéri?” he turned towards her, his patience was so wafer-thin the façade of his etiquette towards her dropped. “What exactly would you be referring to?” he snapped in response, trying to hide his impatience.

“If we lose this battle there will be no people left for you to exploit. I doubt even you could control the shadows. Even if you could, you wouldn’t find it as enjoyable.”

He could barely contain himself at that. She was correct, Reaver did so enjoy doing as he pleased. The use of people, although limited, was ever so easy and pleasurable. He never was really one for being heroic, save the one time he was made to (not from his lack of objection). However her point had crossed his mind before, when it came to a more universal threat, it was hard to ignore.

“Or perhaps,” she said, with a tentative, challenging smirk “You believed in me enough that you didn’t think I required help.”

He turned with speedy precision. He pushed her against the wall of the study, his cane across her throat, her head tilted to look at his, demanding her in that position.

“On the contrary, I do so like to see you squirm” he leaned into her ear “Princess” he hissed, venom in his tone.

The moment did not pass either of them easily, they stared at each other, not quite knowing what to do next. Reaver’s outburst wasn’t one of dominance, but anger. The intensity of his stare was deafening. He pushed the cane slightly harder onto her throat, her lips parted in the need for air.

She struck his leg, causing him to fall to the floor. Reaver pulled Nas down with him, her crown and his hat flying across the room. Both tried to gain leverage over the other. Nas pinned him to the floor, using her strength to push his hands above his head. He then wrapped his legs around hers, pulling her in closer so she collapsed on top of him. With a smirk he rolled over, pinning himself on top of her. “Well this certainly is a precarious position indeed, your majesty” his voice rumbled in a low, seductive tone.

Her breath caught slightly in her throat and her pulse raced faster. The threat of harm seemed to dissipate, Reaver’s eyes intently looking into her own. Her chest was heaving from the interaction, her blood far more alive than moments ago. Reaver himself also felt his blood thrive at her touch, a feeling he had only associated with battle before.

“This is not exactly the way I would expect you to treat your Queen” Nas managed, blushed and breathless.

His eyebrow arched “My queen? What a delicious concept. Maybe this intrusion of your time could have a… satisfying outcome for us both, mm?” He leaned in closer to her, using a hand to hold her chin in place. She tried to look away but Reaver snatched her gaze back to his, his eyes burning intently into hers. “I would treat you far worse if you were mine, Bien-aimé.”

Her chest heaved with every breath, she tried to convince herself it was due to the scuffle.

Reaver leaned closer.

There was a moment of deafening silence.

Suddenly, Jasper’s voice could be heard around them, completely unaware of the situation Nas was in. “Your Majesty, sorry for the disturbance of your research, there is something that I believe you should come and look at.”

The air between them began to feel a lot clearer, like the tension had left the room. Nas realised Reaver’s hand held her face in place, leaving hers free. She put her hand across his chest and, with her will, used her force spell. Reaver flew a few feet away, crumpled. Nastarana walked across the room to her crown and placed it on her head; picking up Reaver’s top hat, she held it out to him. Still taken aback by the sudden push, he begrudgingly snatched the hat from her hand and placed it vainly upon his head. Nas also offered to help him up but he got to his feet by himself, in silence.
She cleared her throat. “Well. Thank you for stopping by Reaver. I suppose I’ll see you in court soon” she said, somewhat awkwardly. Nas walked to the study door and opened it in anticipation of his departure. He walked toward the door, just before he left he placed his hand on top of hers. He demanded her stare into his eyes. “I hope to parlay more successfully with you soon, my little Queen.” With that, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Reaver sat in his armchair, nursing his whisky. Ever since the resistance had taken over his Mansion in Millfields he had resided in his country home just on the outskirts of Silverpines. The room was filled with the soft light of the fire, the moonlight melding into the room. He sighed. The day’s events were far from ideal, it had been a while since things had gone completely his way. In fact, ever since Nas had started her rebellion more and more of his plans had backfired. She really needs to be dealt with he thought, half-heartedly. Her righteousness made him feel uncomfortable, everything was so dull when it was black and white. Grey was much more interesting.

But how grey it was now. His feelings for her should be anger and annoyance but there was something keeping him from having the urge to shoot her. The fire reminded him of her in front of the fire, her trousers tightly clad around her body. When he had pinned her against the wall he felt immense anger, the scuffle had caused his blood to pump. He could feel hers too. Blood racing. Body gasping for breath, heaving, pressing against him. What did it mean that he felt so much more alive in those moments than any sex or battle had given him? He sipped his whisky thoughtfully and grimaced. If there was anything to know about Reaver it was that he loathed not knowing. So, he would have to find out what it meant.

A muffled sob came from the back of the dimly lit room. “Yes, yes. I will get to you soon. Patience, my dear fellow.”
It would be interesting to spend more time with the monarch, maybe one good romp would free him from this confusion. His eyes sparkled slightly, what a marvelous idea.

It seemed as though the Queen had information on this woman he had met in the tomb, he underestimated Nas’s ability. The Queen was known to be extremely moral, perhaps she is investigating this woman? Or an even more exciting prospect, the innocent Queen was actually employing her? How delicious that would be. His informant had already revealed where her next destination was, with the help of some… persuasion on Reaver’s part. She could be very good leverage against the Queen.

Reaver rang a bell, one of his servants sheepishly shuffled into the room. “Be a dear and put these away for me” gesturing towards a roll of bloody tools that lay on the table. The maid looked at them in disgust, she picked up the tools, holding them at arm’s length as she went to exit the room. “Oh, and take his gag out, will you?” The maid gently removed the ball from the man’s mouth, making sure she didn’t hover too long, not wanting to incur Reaver’s wrath. His face was severely beaten, blood dripping from his mouth down his torn clothes.

Reaver continued to nurse his whisky, looking at the fire as he spoke. “Are you positive you don’t know who this woman is?”

“No, No. I just leave the information in the tunnel like I said. I’ve never seen her face or nothin’ I swear to ya Mister Reaver.” He said, his voice tired, but hopeful of being freed.

“Thank you so much for your time, I appreciate your honesty in this matter.” Without turning, Reaver raised his pistol in the direction of the man and fired, a small silence followed with a soft thud on the carpet.

Reaver rang his bell.

Chapter Text

Nastarana slammed her hand down on the table. Forgetting her strength, the wood cracked from her touch. Heat rose within her, she felt an uncontrollable urge to punch Hobson in his little hobbe face. “Watch your flesh turn to black. Watch your thoughts turn to black... Watch your fates turn to black” she heard in her head, the Crawler seeping into her mind. Her every worry.

“I do not understand why I wasn’t told sooner. The more people you send to look into this ‘Desert Star’ the more people we lose. I go, it benefits the treasury and the army. I’m a HERO, I think I can handle one palace ruin.”

“Yes, but we didn’t want to bother you with things that we could get soldiers to look into. Your place is here!” Hobson stammered, slightly shaken by the Queen’s outburst.

“Well, obviously they can’t bloody do it because you’ve sent ten men and they have all died.”

Nas, Walter, Logan and Hobson stood in silence around the world table in the war room. Ben was listening intently, leaning against the wall by the door. “I could go if you wanted, Nas? I wouldn’t mind a little adventure” he piped up.

Nas looked at Ben warmly, she could see that even though he itched to travel, his time in the castle had done him well. His face was healthier, he seemed happier and more content, she couldn’t possibly send him back to a posting.

“There is no way I would let you go to Aurora, alone, after ten men have died there already.”
Hobson peaked out from behind Logan “Well your majesty, he couldn’t possibly leave anyway, recruitment isn’t anywhere near high enough, he can’t saunter off without fixing it.”

Nas snapped her neck round at Hobson, walking towards him slightly.

“HE has a name. Ben is the only reason that we have new recruits in the first place. If we had stressed the importance of female recruits like I suggested to you, then our numbers would’ve been double what they are now. Don’t you dare suggest that Ben is the problem.”

Hobson sulked behind Logan whilst in the corner Ben beamed with pride. Ever since he had become the recruiter numbers had been steady.

“In my defence battling an unknown foe and possible death is a really hard sell” Ben input from his corner.

“Yes, but if anyone is up to the task is you, no one else is charming enough” Nas smirked, winking at Ben.

Walter and Logan had remained out of the conversation for a while, stood together in hushed whispers. Ever since Logan had been pardoned, their relationship had just gone from strength to strength, a long way from their constant clashes a few months ago. Walter caught Nas looking at them as if waiting for input, he cleared his throat and nodded at Logan.

“Well I think we both agree that you should have a look for this treasure yourself.” Walter began. “Logan suggested it might be a good opportunity to build relations in Aurora; make it an official visit.”

Nas huffed. “I could easily be there and back using the cullis gate within a few days. A royal visit would be a week minimum.”

Logan looked at her thoughtfully. They hadn’t really spoken a lot despite his relationship flourishing with Walter. Nas felt that they had some sort of understanding. It would take time to rebuild the trust; every time she looked at him all she could think of was Elliot’s face being led away by the guards. Her heart panged with guilt and anger… it was too soon for anything more than small conversations. “I understand, sister. You wish to get it over quickly. But if people notice your absence here or your presence in Aurora without an official reason people will speculate. We can’t afford unrest in the population.”

She splayed her hands either side of herself on the wood of the table, head hung low. She thought on Logan’s words for a while, weighing the options in her head.

“Yes. I believe you’re right. But you are all needed here. Set up preparations but I’ll go alone.” She could hear them all start to protest but before they could finish she pounded her fist onto the wood of the table, silencing them. “This is not up for discussion. I am doing this the way you want even though it goes against my wishes. You can do this one thing for me. I cannot think of a better room of people to run the castle whilst I’m gone. You’re dismissed.” They all started to walk out of the room, except for Walter who waited until everyone had left.

He came up to Nas and put his hand on her shoulder. “I really think you should let me come, Nastarana. I don’t like you being… out there. Alone.” She knew exactly what he meant. Neither of them had been back to Aurora since their incident with the crawler, going back into that desert filled Nas with dread. She felt like the crawler had seeped into her mind already, being that close to where he resided, being back in that desert after seeing those hallucinations… she didn’t know how to prepare for that.

Nas hugged Walter abruptly, it surprised him, but he leaned into it and smiled, squeezing her tightly. “I’ll be okay Walter, honestly. I’m a big girl now.” She pulled away to look at him. “You should’ve told me about this earlier, those men didn’t deserve that fate.”
He frowned, guilt riddled his face. “I just didn’t want you to have to go back there yet. I just wanted you safe. Here.” She almost understood why Walter and Logan had not told her, they both knew what the crawler was capable of, they knew what it would mean to have to go back. She stepped back from him and gave him a half-smile, “I’ll be alright, I’m a hero remember?” and with that Nas gave him a bump on the shoulder and walked out of the room, Samson at her heel.

Chapter Text

She wanted to claw him out of her head. Could she? 

She screamed, digging her nails into her scalp, trying desperately to dig into her brain. If she could just reach him she could kill him. 
She could be her again. 

"Do you feel that music flowing through your veins? That's our heartbeat. The children put it forward out of love... Do you know how to love? It is the same as dying..."

It laughed at her menacingly, which only made her try harder. She scratched at her head aggressively, blood dripping down her hands and flowing along her arms. She stared at them. All she could see was blackness. It seeped from her.

“We are inside you. Your heart, your lungs, your thoughts will all be blackened."

All she could do was scream, she felt her whole body convulse. She had to get the void from her blood. She started at her wrist, trying to rip her skin with her mouth. 

If she could get it out she would be fine. 
It would go. She could think. Be herself. 

Please let me be me, 
please 
please 
please.

Bitter blackness filled her mouth from her veins, she spat it out like venom had infested her. 
… please. 

Walter had rushed in after maids had told him of the screaming. The blood was the first thing he saw. Nastarana was writhing in the bed, her screams were raw. He could hear the desperation in them, the pure terror and anguish that he never wanted to hear again.

He shook her and kept saying her name over and over, trying to break her from the nightmare. She slowed, as if she responded to his voice. Her eyes snapped open, looking into his eyes “he’s right, he’s right, he’s right” she kept repeating, not blinking or looking away from Walter. He stroked her hair, like he used to when she had nightmares as a child. “Who, Nas? Right about what?”
She stopped speaking and in a low whisper, only just audible she said, almost in her childhood voice, “We’re… we’re all shadows now”. Walter felt sick to his stomach, but he cradled her, her blood seeping into his nightclothes. Walter rocked her back and forth, telling her stories of her mother, the great hero Queen, who would come to her rescue and save her from her nightmares. 

Chapter Text

Nas’s hood blew in the wind, she grasped it gently, placing it firmly back onto her head. The night bit with a cold promise of adventure. She had left the castle shortly after nightfall, the last few days had been awkward and silent, with everyone avoiding each other after the argument. Nas turned into the row of crypts that contained the entrance to the Ossuary. Morningwood was a dangerous place to venture at night. Her mind drifted back to the night at the fort, meeting Ben and Swift those first few months of the revolution. Hollowmen everywhere. The fight was young and fast, she felt so alive. A heavy sigh left her lips, it felt like so long ago… When did she start feeling this old? This worn down? 

She thought back to her most recent nightmare. It had been the worst. Everything had been much more of an effort since that night, something clung to her, something she’d never be able to rid herself of. She shook off the feeling, trying to focus on getting back into the catacomb, pushing harshly on the door. 
Once inside she was greeted with the sight of hollow men and a heavy atmosphere of old magic. She felt her hair stand on end. The Ossuary made her feel uneasy, when she had entered before it had the same sense of magic and death. Nas tried to focus, she charged at the hollow men who fell easily under the precision of her blade. She sensed the last two behind her and performed a huge flourish, causing them to shatter against a wall of the Ossuary. She climbed the stairs to the golden door and made her way to the sarcophagus inside. 

She thought back to the Dragonstomper that was still in the sanctuary, she would have to sell it with the new rifle. Her informant was supposed to meet in the usual place, she waited for hours but he never showed. The Dragonstomper.48 had quickly become her favourite weapon. A part of her had wanted to keep it. Selfish, she knew, but the idea that Reaver wanted it also made it hard to part with. She pushed off the lid of the sarcophagus and grabbed the rifle out of from between the skeleton’s hands. The Shrieking Pilgrim. She shivered at the thought of holding a man’s thigh bone. Poor guy. She picked it up and tested the weight in her hand, aiming at the wall she tested the sight. 

Reaver had watched the hooded figure since she had entered the Ossuary. He had waited the last three nights for her to appear, each time he had sat, picking off hollow men from an incredible distance. When she had finally arrived, he watched her dispose her foes. My my, she is tenacious. As she entered the golden doors he had gracefully jumped down from on top of a smaller tomb. He made his way up the stairs, his blood pumping faster the closer he got to the figure. She stood in front of the sarcophagus, appraising the rifle. Reaver raised his own weapon. 

Instinctively, a surge of energy surrounded her. Reaver shot. Nas moved quickly but the bullet tore itself through the shoulder of her sword wielding arm. She rolled. Nas shot at Reaver, he deflected the bullet with ease. Nas charged at him, using her wounded arm to lash out at him with her sword. He dodged her lunge, hitting her across the back with his cane. Nas yelped at the sharp pain, and Reaver pulled her backwards, digging his fingers into her wound. 

Reaver tore off the hood. 

Blue, arcane eyes radiated back at him. The sockets of her eyes alive with Will magic.

His face was one of complete shock. Nas got the upper hand, pushing him to the floor. She stood above him and pointed her newly acquainted rifle at his forehead. A strong pit formed in the bottom of her stomach. Her thoughts were whirling, the air was hard to breathe but Nas pushed through. The initial shock subsided, his face changed into a smugness that turned her stomach even more. “How fitting your name is” he purred from underneath her, unfazed by the rifle, grinning in delight at discovering Nas’s identity.

“Madame Nastarana, the unfulfilled potential of a beautiful garden rose.” He shifted slightly, as if reaching for his weapon “how sentimental your mother was.” Nas smirked, half pained and half angry. The Will left her eyes, exposing her natural brown irises.  Reaver unclipped his holster but before he could take out his weapon Nas fired quickly, aiming at the floor next to his head. “Ah” Reaver retorted, putting up his hands in a mock surrender “and of course… the thorns.”

“I only use force when needed to.”

“Oh, how frightfully dull.” Nas felt her face blush. Reaver was crude, even in the presence of royalty. He smirked ever so slightly at her face, enjoying the uncomfortableness it brought her.

“Why are you following me?” She asked, her arm beginning to ache from the gunshot wound. Normally she healed faster, but the wound lingered.

“Well how was I to know it was you? The Queen of all people! I have to say I am indeed surprised your majesty.” She waited. They looked at each other for a moment, Reaver fought with himself not to answer her, but Nas was not playing a game. She was angry. If Reaver compromises these outings it could be shit for the whole of Albion. 
Reaver looked into her eyes, he could see the stone-cold response that greeted him, unaware of the gross amount of worry underneath. He began to realise she was serious, her eyes commanded an explanation.

“I was just curious as to what you were hiding” he admitted, still using a smug exterior to hide his concession. 

“You were looking for leverage”

“Well you weren’t particularly kind to me at our last meeting. You weren’t interested in any aspect of my information even though it could be different from yours. You also goaded me.” 
She smirked. The idea that she had riled him made her stomach settle slightly, the feeling of heaviness was replaced slightly with butterflies. “Well, I feel honoured, to be able to goad Mr Reaver is surely a great achievement.”

“Keep on like this, your royal highness, you’ll be due a good spanking.”
She lowered her weapon slightly “Excuse me?”

Reaver kicked her legs from under her. He tried to regain his footing but Nas threw him over the top of her, he landed hard onto the floor. Reaver winced in pain, but as Nas went to punch him he pushed her to the ground swiftly, putting his gun to her head. “Your majesty, we really have to stop ending up in this position. People will start to talk” he said in a low, rumbling tone.

A mixture of butterflies and dread filled her stomach. “Reaver you are literally pointing a gun at my head.”

 “Well, one has to make things more adventurous, mm?”

They brooded in silence for a moment. Realising defeat, Nas simply said “I think maybe we should have that negotiation.” 
He thought for a moment. The surprise of the Queen being the hooded figure had railroaded his original plan. Perhaps this was better? He hadn’t expected this at all, but it still could be to his advantage. “Yes,” he replied as he stood up, “Perhaps we could parley more successfully in my bedchambers?”

Nas got to her feet by herself, “You are genuinely repulsive.” Reaver’s face flashed with a playful smile, enjoying her reaction. 
“Just come with me” Nas said, holding her hand out to Reaver. He stared at it for a moment, slightly perplexed. He took it, tentatively, and instantly regretted his decision. In a flash they were transported to the sanctuary. Reaver’s stomach turned. He loathed teleports. 

“Ah, hello!” Jasper said, having heard Nas teleport in. He turned to talk to her but saw Reaver, his face dropped. The warmth that was reserved for the Queen disappeared, his trained butler expression adorned his face instead. Nas clutched her shoulder and winced, Jasper rushed to her side. He pulled her jacket back, exposing her blood-soaked shoulder. “Miss Nastarana what on Earth happened!? I’ve never seen you have a wound this bad.” 
She eyed Reaver from the side, “It’s fine, the bullet went straight through. Just stings a bit. Can I talk to you for a minute?” She gestured Jasper to the side of the room, leaving Reaver standing alone by the Cullis gate.

As Jasper and Nas spoke, Reaver made his way around the map table, circling the room. Of course, he had been here before, only a few times with Sparrow. They had had a few run ins over the years, it was only natural. Although they had their differences they sometimes found themselves with mutual goals. They’d had their fair share of adventure together, although they maintained the upmost decorum within social circles. The room seemed different from his memory. Nothing was quite out of place, but it seemed somehow… newer. It had a youthful glow, perhaps reacting to the new hero occupying the space. 

He glanced over at the promises that hung on the walls, rather intrigued at Nas’s sense of nobleness. He normally would roll his eyes at this kind of morality, but a small part of him found it endearing. His hand danced across the wood of the map table. He tried to retain as much information as he could, all the quests and markers she had made. Rather begrudgingly, he realised she was just being moral. He huffed. How frightfully dull. She was helping people, no inkling of treasure in sight. Perhaps a slight twinkle in Aurora, how interesting… 
Samson stood up in his bed, realising there was a new, unfamiliar-smelling person in the sanctuary. He growled at Reaver in a low, threatening tone. 
“Sam!” Nas snapped. The dog looked at her, puzzled. She flicked her index finger downwards. He sighed, admitting defeat. Samson buried himself back into his bed, never taking his eyes off of his enemy. 

Nas had leaned against the wall while Jasper fussed with her wound. Her jacket was strewn off of her shoulder. “Sorry, I’ll be with you in a moment,” She remarked to Reaver, he replied by nodding curtly. 
She watched him as Jasper tended to her wound. Reaver delicately removed his gloves and placed them in his pocket.  He waltzed around the room, reading the promises as he went, caressing the frames. She couldn’t help studying him. As he walked back towards Samson he tapped his cane on the stone floor. It echoed across the room and made her shiver slightly. She had always wondered why he carried it, it didn’t seem as though he required aid to walk. He’s just a pompous prick.

Jasper rubbed an ointment into Nas’s wound, she took a sharp intake of breath and cursed violently under her breath. Reaver couldn’t help but smile. 

“You barely missed the circumflex artery in her shoulder. You could’ve seriously injured her.” Jasper spat across the room at Reaver.  

“Well that was the intention,” he remarked, smugly, as he fiddled with wrapping paper on one of her presents, trying to peak at its contents. 

“It’s fine Jasper, it’ll heal.” Nas said, pulling her jacket up. He began to protest but she held her hand in the air to silence him “it’s fine, Jasper.” She turned to Reaver and waved in the direction of an alcove. “Shall we?”  

They made their way through the hallway into the Treasury. Jasper had insisted on moving chairs from the sanctuary shop into the space after they discovered the Seer’s prophecy. She had spent countless late nights delving through her personal finances to fund the army. In the beginning it meant many nights sat cross legged next to her small heap of gold, watching it slowly rise. 

As Reaver entered he couldn’t help staring at the mass pile of gold in front of him, Nas could tell he was eager to look at her books. “Hey” she snapped. Reaver turned to look at her, she gestured her index and middle fingers towards her face “eyes up here” she said playfully. He smiled at her attitude. Once she had entered the sanctuary her demeanour had changed, Reaver had observed she was more relaxed, much more open than he had ever seen her in court. He hadn’t really heard her speak apart from in those proceedings, he was intrigued to study her in this new setting.  

They sat down, Jasper brought over a decanter of whisky with two glasses and set it down on the table. He retreated to the corner of the room, not taking his eyes off of Reaver. Nas poured the drinks for them both. Before Reaver reached for his Nas drank hers quickly and placed the glass on the table. 

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you were nervous,” Reaver stated, sipping his whisky slowly from the glass, studying her closely. 

“Oh no,” she placed her glass on the table and leaned over to Reaver, a bite in her words. “It’s the being shot actually, it’s just to take the edge off.” 

Reaver laughed heartily, Nas replied with a look of stone.  “So… Your majesty. Why, pray tell, is the Queen of our great Albion skulking around in the middle of the night?”

She sighed, picking up the decanter to pour herself another drink. Her normal highly placed bun was replaced by a messy ponytail. She looked happier out of the castle, he thought. More human, not just a face on a throne or the poster girl of a rebellion. 

“I – I’ve been… forbidden to leave the castle unless it’s a social thing. I just wanted to earn some extra money for the royal treasury, that’s all. We aren’t exactly at our goal.”

“Ah I see. What a rather noble cause. And here I thought you were becoming interesting.”
She scoffed, rubbing one of her temples with her free hand. 

“Well you can count on my silence, your majesty. In return for what is mine, of course. You already know what I want.” 
Ah yes. The weapon. It seemed like a fair transaction to her, but there was something about the pistol… 

“It’s a fake” she said, the words leaving her lips before she knew what she was doing. Jasper tensed slightly. Her heart started to pound. She maintained her facial expression with a look of complete truth. Reaver raised his eyebrow at her. “I heard it, there is no possible way it was a replica. Don’t play games with me, I’m rather good at winning.”

“I thought the same as you, the sound is extremely close, but the gun has all the wrong markings. They look nothing alike. It can’t possibly be the same weapon.”

This is really stupid. 

Nas nodded to Jasper and he produced the weapon from his side. She waited. Nas pretended to be patient as Reaver began to look over the weapon. Her mind was racing, she needed to distract him before he realised it was her mutation ability that had begun to change the weapons appearance. 
“Maybe Count Zamoyski wanted you to find it?” She could see her words had peaked his interest, his focus on the firearm wavered. “If it were me” she began, his eye darted to look at Nas’s face. Her heart felt as though it were in her throat. “The best revenge from beyond the grave would be to make you think you had the set. You’d never know your task wasn’t complete.” 

He stared from her back to the weapon. He looked it over again. He looked back at her. 

Reaver threw the gun at the gold, the sound caused a metallic thump. “Well. What a disappointment. I feel as though this conversation is at its end. How disappointing.”

Nas’s blood ran cold, she was searching in her mind for something, anything that would be important to Reaver. She couldn’t think. “There has to be something else you want, Reaver.”

He tapped his cane and thought for a moment. Within a few seconds his face had gone from resembling an annoyed child to that of devilish delight. This did nothing to settle Nastarana. “I suppose there is something to be made of this situation,” he began. Nas instinctively picked up her glass and took a big mouthful.

Balls. He looks smug.

“However.”

Balls.

“I would require a satisfactory reimbursement.”

She took another swig. “Okay… your terms?”

“I will indeed keep your naughty secret and help your treasury situation for three small items in return.” 

Triple balls. She tried to cover her worry, hiding her face behind the glass. 

“I would require my manor… and each time you go on one of these little adventures you are obligated to tell me, and I will accompany you.”

If she had had drink in her mouth she would’ve spat it out. “Excuse me?” 

“Well it is clear you do in fact require help, and what kind of subject would I be if I didn’t oblige?” He sat before her with a devilish grin. 

She sat there for a moment, dumbstruck. It was such a strange request. What on Earth does he get out of this apart form my discomfort? She sighed into her glass and drank the remnants of the whisky. Of course, it’s probably just my discomfort. “What kind of help do you mean for the treasury?”

“Every time I accompany you I will donate to the treasury. Let’s agree, 250,000 gold coins or higher?”

“Those seem like agreeable terms” she poured herself her third drink. “What was your third request?”

He smiled at her, mischievously. “Well. I merely require an undisclosed favour from you. You would simply ‘owe me’ something.”

She saw his smile and knew he was planning something. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her sick to her stomach. “Oh no. no no no. You are not getting an unspecific favour to hold over me in court or, or make me kill someone or something.”

His smile didn’t waver, “Oh of course, I wouldn’t dream of using you in such a manner! The favour will be nothing illegal or immoral. How is that, your majesty?” 

She sat up in her chair slowly, darting a look over to Jasper. She could see he wasn’t amused at any of this, but he looked especially worried for her now. He nodded at her curtly, showing his approval for her decision. 

She sighed, yet again she picked up the decanter. “Yes. I suppose those terms are agreeable.”

Chapter Text

The carriage ride had been uncomfortable for Nastarana. She was unfazed by the uneven cobbles, the bumps in the road were nothing compared to the walking she usually did. The part she still found uncomfortable about her royal status were the crowds of people that came to greet her as she rode through Bowerstone. Cheers surrounded her.  That was good, wasn’t it?

The cheers? The light?

We are coming, for all those you wish to protect, all those you wish to control. Her hairs stood on end at the thought of the Crawler. The memories and dreams had only become worse over the days leading up to her travel. Walter had yet again had to stoke her from her nightmares, the reminder of the night came in the form of bandages, still encasing her arms under her clothes. This time Walter had not come out of it unscathed. 

He sat next to her in the carriage, searching the crowds for threats. She looked at his face, his eye was completely black from the blow she had laid upon him. A pang of guilt resonated within her. Ben kicked Nas in the shin, it snapped her back from her thought. “Come on, your grace, give ‘em a little wave?” he said, gesturing his head to the crowds. She wound down the window of the carriage further and stuck her hand out, waving to the crowds below. 
The masses of people cheered louder, elated at their Queen’s gesture. Ben beamed “See? A little wave sends ‘em wild.”

The carriage turned into industrial, the crowds thinned as the barriers to the port got closer. Walter visibly relaxed at the presence of more guards, he turned to Nas and smiled warmly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come, Nas? I really wouldn’t mind.”
She smiled, half-heartedly “I’ll be fine, really. Lots of people will be around, I’ll be fine.” She reassured him, squeezing his hand. He didn’t seem convinced. “Just look after Samson for me, okay?” he nodded, squeezing her hand in reply as they came to a stop just in front of the ship. 

Although she had insisted on a ship that was minimal, Hobson had allocated a cruiser for a royal event. It wasn’t the large ship she had remembered from her childhood, but it was still larger than she would’ve liked; the ornate design was completely over the top for her taste. She had expected to see a boat similar to the one Ben, Walter and she had procured on their first trip to Aurora. Nas sighed. He can’t just let things be. The three of them got out of the carriage and walked towards the ship. People around them were bustling, shifting crates into the hull. 

She turned to Walter and Ben, both standing rigidly side by side. She beamed at her two little soldiers. Before anyone could say anything Nas pulled them both in for a hug. “Be good now, children. No squabbling.” She heard two chuckles over her shoulder, both of them tightened their grip for a moment in reply. She stood back and looked at them both. Although she was happy that she wasn’t being babysat on the trip, the idea of being alone set an anxious pit in her stomach. She longed for them to come. They could redo their original trip. Do it right. No nightmares, just the three of them and the sea. 

Everything was a lot more complicated than that. They all shared immense responsibilities. She had asked Page to accompany her, the two of them had planned it out together. Page had been called away last minute though, a tip-off child exploitation within the city. Act quickly and all that. Nas had told her it was okay. But then? She was completely alone. 

The Queen shuffled slightly on the spot where she was standing. “Well. I best be off. I’ve got… the desert and stuff.”
“Just don’t take any more naps in the sun, your majesty. I don’t think a tan would look good on you” Ben quipped, smiling as he did so.  

“Duly noted, Mr Finn.”

Walter looked at her, worry in his eyes. He wanted to go, but truth be told she did not trust Hobson at the castle without Walter there. They shared a brief nod and Nas gave him a reassuring smile. Both Walter and Ben saluted her as she walked to the ship. 
The steep slope she used to walk to the deck was sparse, with most of the people having entered the ship through the hull. The bannister on the deck supported the weight of her arms as she looked over the side of the ship at the people lining up to watch her, the people below pushed and shoved to see what they could of their Queen. The dockworkers detached the various ropes connected to the pier, allowing the captain of the ship to leave port. As the boat inched towards the end of Bowerstone harbour Nas directed her waves to the crowds, she was able to see the masses stretching back into the industrial section of Bowerstone. As the boat got further out to sea Nas felt surprisingly calmer. Before long Albion became smaller and smaller, to the point where had it completely disappeared on the horizon. 

She took a deep breath, filled her lungs with the fresh ocean air. They planned to sail for three days, counting on decent weather. The wind blew delicately. Nas pushed off of the bannister. The chambers had been filled with her clothes already, they had allocated her quarters to near a gangway at the rear of the ship. She walked towards the rooms, greeting deckhands as she passed. Before she could open the chamber door she heard a voice bellow behind her, the sarcasm dripping from his words. “Your most gracious majesty!” 

She cursed quietly under her breath and turned to look at the source of her displeasure. Reaver stood before her, complete with his own servants and many many cases of luggage. He extended his right arm out, taking off his hat to bow deeply to her. She saw the Cheshire like grin splayed across his face. “Reaver,” she replied, through gritted teeth. “How lovely to see you, would you like to join me on the gangway?”

“Why of course, your highness, it would be an honour!”

They walked the short distance to look over starboard at the sea. Inside she was seething. The night had ended quite abruptly after their agreement, Nas had gone home only to toss and turn. She had worried profusely over the last week, not knowing what Reaver’s long game was, but it was obvious he was up to something, other than just being a menace. They both stood in silence whilst deckhands passed behind them. 

“Reaver what are you doing here?”

He stood, smugly, beside her, the pinnacle of innocence. “Well, I heard that you were visiting our allies in the sands without a guide! What kind of subject would I be if I allowed our great Queen to wonder the desert alone?”
She played with her military gloves. “It’s simply an alliance visit. Nothing more.”

“Ah yes, my little Rose, nothing says official visit like a small ship and a few days notice. Trying to cut me out of something… mm?”

She placed her head in her hands, elbows leaning on the sturdy wood of the ship. “It’s an official request not a secret outing. I don’t belong to you and I certainly don’t have to tell you what I’m doing every second of every day.”

He looked out at the ocean, Nas rested her hand back on the bannister. With a swift movement, his hand was on hers. He placed his fingers atop her ring and middle fingers, jerking them back, just before breaking point. A sharp pain coursed through the fingers, it caused her face to twitch, but she maintained her composure, looking around to make sure no one was looking in their direction.

Reaver looked out to sea, unaffected by the pain he caused her. “If you create a trip around a diamond I can deduce that it isn’t something you wish people to know. Do not try to fool me again, princess.”

The fingers tightened around hers, willing them to break, Nas squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply. 

“I would suggest you rethink your strategies in the future, my Queen.”

He did not release her. 

She cleared her throat. “I apologise.”

Reaver removed his hand, patting hers gently, as if rewarding a pet for good behaviour. She snatched it away, repugnant. She managed to reply, with some form of authority. “I would prefer you stay out of my way until we reach Aurora.”

A scoff was let out into the air as he stepped away. The Queen received a half bow in response, to her it seemed he mocked her silently. “Very well, your highness. Tatty bye!” 

She walked away. The pace of her steps were fast, determined to put as much space as possible between her and Reaver. She approached the chamber door, opening it quickly, slamming it behind her. Slouched against the door she slid down onto the floor, hand covering her face. 
The hand he had grabbed pained her, she held both hands out, watching them shake in front of her. Fists clenched, she tried to regain control of them.
They had agreed on terms, she knew that. The situation had left her in an awkward position. 
As much as she’d tried to convince herself the deal was mutually beneficial she knew Reaver had the leverage. Not only would the outings cease, the ripples of gossip would cause increased unrest and tension in the population. Not to mention the lack of confidence her court would acquire. It was foolish of her to think Reaver wouldn’t discover the trip. He may have been an elusive man, but it seemed he had eyes and ears all over Albion. 

She tried to focus on things ahead of her, Reaver was an issue but she had to focus on something else. The room seemed to be well lit and comfortable. Of course, through Hobson’s demand, it was royally fitted, with an over-elaborate four poster bed and a covered corner area complete with a bath tub. It reminded her of her own bedroom, seeing the familiar decoration settled her nerves. But not enough. She walked back and forth in the room. The restlessness didn’t dissipate. Her eyes darted across the room as she searched for something, anything, to help alleviate the agitation she felt. She had been worried about the trip for days, as well as how to handle Reaver when she got back, now him being here had caused her head to whirr. 
The bath in the corner caught her eye. It had been a long day already, with the ship not having sailed until the afternoon. Perhaps… perhaps it will help. She strode over to the bath and turned the handles, water thudded through the pipes before spurting out into the tub. She thought back to Samson, her heart ached. She hardly went anywhere without her loyal friend by her side, but since the ship wreck to Aurora he hadn’t been the same around water. She had made the decision to leave him with Walter and save him the discomfort of sailing. Normally at these points she would sit with him, stroking behind his ears for comfort.

As the water ran she undressed, the bandage over her gunshot wound and her self-inflicted wounds. Despite the numerous ointments she had applied the area Reaver shot wasn’t healing properly. It bleed intermediately. It burned. Stung. She didn’t know what Reaver had done or what was happening to her abilities, she could only guess it was his weapon. Further down her arms were the scratches. They were deep, the parts of her arms that were affected were deeply bruised. Nas had been trying to claw out the blackness, or so she thought. When she woke she found Walter collapsed and her arms covered in blood. Thank God it wasn’t his.

The bath was steaming as she entered the water, enveloping the space around her in warmth and comfort. She plunged her arms into the water, gritting her teeth as she did so. The dried blood washed off into the bath. She submerged herself into the hot bath, her upper body stinging. 

She slipped lower into the hot water, relaxing into the heat. It had been such a long time since she’d been completely alone like this. Normally she was surrounded by maids and housekeepers, everyone keeping an eye on her. Her eyes started to waver, her blinks becoming longer. Her eyes closed. Finally, alone. 

The knock on the door woke her. The water felt freezing against her skin. The knocking on the door got louder, Nas shouted for them to wait. She could see through the cracks in the curtains that the daylight had all but gone, the remnants clinging onto the horizon. The robe slid onto her body, she clasped the pieces together and opened the door. One of the deckhands stood in front of her, their hat in their hands. “Sorry to bother you, your grace, it’s just dinner will be served in ten minutes.”

“Oh, yes. Yes of course, I’ll be down in a moment.”

The door closed behind her, she let in a deep breath. Nastarana was used to going about her royal duties, such as dining with hosts. The captain and his most valued deckhands hadn’t worried her but Reaver’s sudden arrival had left her feeling apprehensive.  She stood at the door for a moment, biting her nails, thinking of what to do first. 

After she had made her way over to the dresser she stood there. Her hand went back and forth between her formal Queen’s jacket and her practical shirt. The practicality of the prince’s shirt tempted her, but she felt herself drifting back to her jacket, formality distilled in her. 

Screw it.

She grabbed the comfortable shirt and pushed the drawer shut. The bellowing sleeves felt freer on her skin, her tense muscles relaxed slightly. Before she left for dinner she placed her crown in the lockbox by her bed, turning the lock with a sense of relief. She turned to the mirror, adjusted her bun and left her chambers.

Although the dining hall was grand and spacious it was a lot less overstated than the chambers had been. Sufficiently lit, the warmth bounced off of the wooden beams of the ship, echoing a sense of comfort. The regimented nature the ship demanded seemed to dissipate. The soft call of music flowed through the air. Reaver had sat next to the empty seat at the head of the table, she studied him, hanging back at the door. He sat sipping his wine, scanning the room, his normal attire discarded for a plain shirt. 

The thud of her boots alerted those near her to look, realising who she was they began to bow. People turned to see the commotion. One by one they realised the source of the disturbance, those at the table rose to greet her, a chorus of ‘your majesty’ rippled through the room. 

Reaver looked up, a twinkle in his eyes, and remained seated. 

She approached the table, nodding to crew members as she walked. The Captain approached her, pompous swagger exaggerating his steps. “Your majesty!” he bellowed. After a shallow bow, he gestured her towards her seat, indicating to the head of the table. “I usually sit here but our monarch being a guest was such an honour I wanted you to feel welcome.” 

She thanked him and sat, seeing Reaver out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you all, really, but please sit” people began to sit, another round of ‘your majesty’ was heard. She smiled, slightly embarrassed by their propriety. “Whilst on this trip I’d prefer it if you just treated me as another pair of hands, I chose to have a small crew to leave behind formalities.”

The Captain, who sat on her other side, placed his hand on top of hers. She looked at him, his middle-aged face staring back at hers, smiling at her condescendingly. “Your majesty, how could we possibly treat you as a common deckhand? You’re our Queen. It’s hardly the job of a lady such as yourself to do hard labour.” She looked at him, his bumptious attitude grating on her patience already. 

“I see.” She slowly removed her hand from underneath his. “Tell me, Mr…?” 

“Jonah, Jonah Henderson, ma’am.”

“Well, Mr Henderson, do you by any chance know my aide, Hobson?”

He perked up “Oh yes, he happens to be a dear friend! He simply insisted on me accompanying you across the sea for this journey!” 

Nas smiled, expected disappointment washed over her. Fucking Hobson. 
She turned to the table, the crew watching the interaction. “For the rest of the trip I am Nastarana or ‘Nas’, not ‘Your Majesty.’ Anything you need I would be happy to help.” She turned to Henderson and tapped his hand, sarcastically, flaring the Will in her eyes, letting it fill her sockets. “I’m sure a lady such as myself can handle it.”

She felt Reaver stifle a laugh next to her, Henderson looked shocked at her response. He managed to reassemble his pride and turned to the table, announcing they could eat. She sat at the head of the table, still feeling awkward but reserved in her choice, slightly smug at how well she shut the captain up.

The night went by slowly for Nas. The dinner had been awkward and uncomfortable, with the Captain being loud and brash, reciting many voyages and over exaggerating his abilities. She had not spoken to Reaver during the course of the evening, but she could see him looking arch out of the corner of her eye, his distaste directed at Henderson. 

The uncomfortableness radiated from her at the proximity she was to Reaver. His manners throughout the night had been agreeable enough, but she couldn’t shake the displeasure she associated with him. Her hand twinged. She clutched it, remembering his calm threat. The underline distain didn’t leave her, but she felt it take a back-row seat as the night went on, replaced by some form of morbid curiosity. Although outwardly his demeanour appeared frosty, he seemed relatively calm and unaffected by those around him, including Nas. 

She looked at him briefly, then back at her drink, staring at its bubbles. Maybe he’s so dismissive of others because he is so used to being alone?

She mulled the thought over, imagining herself being alone all of those years, how empty and meaningless life must be without a cause. Without friends. She turned to him, almost as if to say something, when she discovered his gaze had averted from Henderson. He stared, unapologetically, at a male deckhand, his eyebrow creeping slowly up his forehead, mind lost in thoughts. Nas sighed, swigging her ale. I guess not.

After dinner had finished the music got louder, the crew drank and socialised. The captain remained at the table, he had moved to the centre, accosting a female deckhand he was trying deeply to impress, she appeared to Nas to just be humouring him. 

The girl had an older demeanour than her young appearance, her weather-beaten face exposed as her copper, curly hair was gathered in a messy bun. Henderson drank greedily from his pitcher, the girl listened, pretending to appear interested but obviously exasperated by his attention. 

“The trick is to control the ship, you see. You need to know every part and how to make it obey you” he finished, patronisingly. The girl replied half-heartedly. Reaver mumbled under his breath into his wine, begrudgingly. Nas let out a small smirk at his childish behaviour.
“I’ll do an inventory tomorrow, sir. We need to make sure we are storm-ready.” She replied, his ramble had diverted the conversation from its original purpose, his mind dazed with the effect of ale.

He pompously put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “There shouldn’t be any storms this journey. Just be happy the sea is calm. It’s always best when it’s calm”
Reaver’s eyes remained on his drink “A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor,” he remarked under his breath.
Nas chocked on her wine, covering it by clearing her throat. 

“What was that, good sir?” Henderson said, unsure of what Reaver had said, but aware he was interrupting his conversation. 

He flashed the captain a devilish, social grin. “I merely stated my delight to the Queen that we’re in the hands of such a skilled sailor.” He accepted the compliment, laughing heartily whilst raising his glass to Reaver. Reaver smirked, tilting his wine glass to the captain and taking a sip. 

The other deckhands seemed blissfully unaware of Henderson and his behaviour, laughing and dancing, rejoicing in the success of the voyage. The room slowly thinned out, people made their way to their bunks, anticipating the next day's work. 

“Why do you feel the need to mock everyone?”

Reaver looked either side of himself, sarcastically and then turned back to Nas. “Sorry, your majesty, were you talking to me? This doesn’t seem to be Aroura.” 

She scoffed “I rest my case.”

Reaver smirked and clicked his tongue. “Why the sudden besoin for conversation?” 
She sat, contemplating her situation. She scanned the room whilst sipping her ale. “There is no one else here I know, I guess I’m desperate enough to engage in conversation with you.”

“I’m truly honoured.”

They sat, again, in silence. The room went on without them, unaware of the two heroes slouched in the corner. The silence was different after their quips, not alone in their brooding. 

“You never answered my question.”

He lit up a cigarette, drawing in the toxins, greedily. “He was irritating.”

She scoffed “that’s all?”

He sat and thought for a moment, drawing in more of the tobacco. He said, rather nonchalantly, “he’s managed to insult you and a fair amount of the ‘common’ deckhands at the table” 

“and you?”

“well his cocksure, uppity behaviour aside… he appears to be a very poor captain.”

She let out a giggle. It wasn’t a scoff or a fake laugh, but a pure, truthful giggle. She tried to cover it with a clear of the throat, but he had heard her. It left a warm fuzz in him, pleased at bringing her a small moment of joy, seeing the person underneath the defences. 

“You’re not wrong, you’re just an arsehole.”

They stewed in their silence, Nas felt increasingly stupid due to her outburst. She needed to break the silence. 

“And what about me? And everyone else you annoy constantly?”

He turned to look at her, a cheeky smile splayed across his face, making her stomach tighten. 

“It’s enjoyable.”