She's a Rebel // Ben Finn x Princess

Chapter 5

Walking into the bustling pub, my ears slightly ringing from the din of cheering, it did nothing to ease the throbbing in my head. I looked around, expecting some kind of spectacle, but found nothing unusual in the activities happening around me. Say what you like about the people of Bowerstone, but they certainly know how to spend a Thursday night. I considered a beverage myself, but I was here on business - and Albion Ale wasn't exactly the nicest refreshment. I spotted my target, alone at a table in the raised section at the back, slumped over a beer.

"See that man over there, the blonde one?" I pointed, addressing a passing waitress. She nodded, her brown curls bobbing slightly at her shoulders as she did so. "Don't serve him any more drinks tonight, okay? Tell your co-workers, the crown's orders."

"Would you like us to bar him, my queen?" She asked, earnestly. It still felt strange for everyone to instantly do my bidding; I could see why Logan easily went power mad. "We have extremely effective security."

"No, thank you," I smiled, and she nodded again, smiling back at me. "I just don't want him getting too wasted or I fear our interaction may get hostile pretty quickly."

"Oh, I think he may be pretty drunk already," she giggled. "He tried to -"

"I know what he's capable of, unfortunately." I interrupted, not wanting my anger to escalate and she giggled again. "I shall see if I can get him out of your hair. Just don't serve him anymore tonight." She curtseyed, another action I was still uneasy about, and walked away, empty tankards in both hands.

I stalked over to the table, adopting an air of annoyance, and sat down opposite Ben. My entrance seemed somewhat wasted on him - he remained completely oblivious to my existence. I wondered momentarily if he was asleep, or even dead, but he was clearly breathing, his shoulders moving steadily with each breath. I cleared my throat, loudly, but the sound was lost in the hubbub. I even tried saying his name, quietly, attempting to avoid attracting any attention. I placed my hand upon his shoulder, lightly, and his head snapped up.

"Hey, what the fuck do you - oh," his anger quickly faded, to be replaced by discomfort. "As I live and breathe, the queen of Albion. To what do I owe the pleasure?" His hair haphazardly fell either side of his face, the locks distracting from the bruises down the left side of his face. The blue of his eyes hadn't changed from the first day I met him, although the playful glint had evaporated. A mercenary uniform just looked wrong on him, but he wore it oddly well. "Are you here to finish me off?"

"I would if I could, Benjamin." I laughed, and he didn't engage. "I want answers, more than anything. I just want to talk, like we used to - comrades, remember?" My smile was forced, I felt my chest tighten in alignment with every pulse in my head. The pain was unbearable, and Ben's emotional walls weren't helping. "Come on, you surely don't want to be a mercenary, there are other ways to demonstrate your talents."

"What would you know?" He raised his tankard to his lips, and upon finding none left, raised his hand to order another. None of the waitresses even looked in his direction. I fought back a genuine smile. "You know nothing about me, my life. If you had any clue, you wouldn't be here interrogating me. If you're going to punish me, put me in jail or kill me or whatever, I have nothing left." His hand rested on the table, and we both stared at the spot. "At least criminals don't pretend to care."

"I'm not pretending, Ben. I care about all my subjects..." I trailed off, realising that probably wasn't the best choice of word.

"Is that all I am?" He laughed, sharply, and his indignation cut me deep. "All that time, both fucking wars and I'm your subject? You're so blinded; it's just so high up in that castle, right? Every fucker below is just a spec, an ant, so in... insig.." he stuttered, stumbling over sentences, his speech for the first time betraying his level of intoxication and I didn't know whether to correct him or if that would make the situation worse. "You know what I mean." He looked down, into his empty glass.

"You know that's not true. I'm not Logan, if I was, you'd be in Ravenscar for opposing me or worse..." I thought back, to the wanted posters and Swift's execution and it was a safe bet that he was thinking the same. "You know for a fact I'm not like that."

"But that was your family, wasn't it? That was someone in the same position as you, who took away my family. All of them." He spat, his venomous words making the pain in my head all the worse. "You really wanna know what it is? Do you have any idea what it's like, having every single platoon, every single gang, every single family you're a part of die around you? I'm always the last bastard standing, always. Even my newest family, despite their illiteracy and their anger issues, they're all dead and I'm still here. I'd give my life for this kingdom, but it doesn't seem to want me to. All of my brothers, my parents, the entirety of the Swift Brigade, even most of Blackholm..." He looked into my eyes, finally, and I saw the real pain in them. "Why is it always me?"

"I know you don't want to hear this but," I put my hand over his, moving closer to him, holding his gaze steadily. I saw his feelings, the hurt and the fear, mixed with the drink, and my heart stirred. Maybe I wasn't as angry as I thought. "You're alive, Benjamin Finn, you're here and you're young and you're fucking strong. It's not some kind of curse, it's not fate. Things just happen this way sometimes."

"What about William, huh? Why did I have to go through that? Why did I have to fight to save him, fight to have him back, just for it to end like that? Every time I've ever felt hopeful, it's always ended in disaster. Reaver, that sick bastard, he turned my brother, my only living relative into one of those... them, half-breed, mutant creatures, and asked me to kill Page, my only ally and an extremely beautiful woman," I felt a spike of anger rush through me and hoped to Avo it didn't show, "I thought leaving the army, travelling some more, being a lone wolf, that I could escape it all. But even Page, she..." his thought evaporated as he sighed. He looked back down, away from me, and moved away. "I'm just tired of it, Rose... uh, I mean, your majesty..."

"Rose's fine," I corrected, smiling although he couldn't see. "You know, I've always admired that about you. You're... loyal. Dependable. Why do you think you're even accepted into everyone's family?" I lowered my tone, the honesty seeping through my words. I wasn't just probing for answers anymore. "Page is a damned fool for treating you like she did, and Reaver, well... Reaver's Reaver, sociopathic and selfish, simple. There's no reason for anything that's happened to you and I know, I know that makes it worse, I'd love to give you someone to blame, but there just isn't."

A silence settled between us, filling up the empty space. The pain, like a drum beat in my head, regular and almost crippling, caused me to struggle to find any path forward. Ben, however, was slouched, defeated, staring thoughtfully at the wood grains on the table. I ached for something to say, anything to make it better for him, but I knew nothing would work.

"What do you even want from me?" Ben asked after what felt like an age, sitting up straight and wiping his brow. "You've beaten my gang; you've got your answers. Tell me, what's next?"

I didn't know the answer. The noise in the pub had lowered, but the tall, unfurnished walls seemed to grow around me, and the words I wanted to say twisted around my lungs like ivy, suffocating me. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know what to do. I wanted some sense of normalcy, to not have one of my closest friends running a mercenary gang, to not have my brother possibly dating a less-than-respectable experimental scientist, to not have Page nagging at me. I wanted to go back to quests to find people's engagement rings, or to find books for the Academy or anything.

"I don't know, Ben. Do whatever you want," I stood up, touching his shoulder lightly as I turned to leave, "just don't fall back into old ways." Ben gave me a tight-lipped smile with sad eyes.

I watched the drunken folk of Bowerstone stumble home, as I leaned against the external walls of the castle grounds. They were returning to families, wives, husbands, children, to sleep until the next day, with jobs, chores, school. Modest houses with candlelight shining through the windows, lives with the warmth of love. I almost envied them. I took a moment to glance up, to the stars scattered across the sky. If I believed what I preached to Ben, was there really no reason I was alone too?