Authors Notes

I don't know if this has ever been done on ff.net before regarding X-Men Evolution, but I got the idea for this and I thought it would put a new twist in.  Basically my story is in a fantasy setting – think of it as Lord of the Rings inspired X-Men Evolution.  All the main Evolution characters will be appearing in the story at some stage (although right now only a few you will recognise).  This story will be a little long, but some people seem to enjoy that.  So off we go.

Chapter 1

          Although dawn had come on the small village of Bayville, light did not spill over the run down shacks, nor over the small farms and markets.  Heavy white clouds hung overhead, threatening a fierce snow storm that had been expected for days.

The air was still, quiet and crisp.  A solitary rooster crowed pathetically from a neighbouring farm. 

The girl known as Rogue raised her head from her bed to glance out of the small lattice work window and gazed over the frosty village, "damn rooster," she uttered sleepily, she rubbed at her eyes and clumsily tumbled out of bed.  She washed her face in the basin of icy cold water on the oak table nearby, and dried her face on her nightgown, shivering in the cold.

"Rogue!" she heard a yell downstairs gruff and tired, just as she felt.

Rogue pulled her brown cotton dress over herself quickly, and grabbed her head rag and tied it on , stumbling out of the room across the creaking floorboards of the attic of the small cottage and descended down the stairs.

"ROGUE!" the yell came again.

"Yes, Logan, I'm coming…" she tripped up on a log that had tipped out of the log pile near the fireplace, and fell.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you are at your most elegant in the morning?" Logan asked, he was pulling on a taupe coloured shirt that had been drying in front of the remaining embers of the fire all night.  It had faded dirt stains upon it, and slight signs of soot.  Logan glanced down at her, not offering to help her up.

"I'm still half asleep," Rogue defended as she got to her feet, she dusted herself off a little, she noted the darkness that was still spread through the cottage.  "The sun has not risen?" she asked, "when I looked outside, it seemed still dark…" She lit a few candles. 

"I think we're due for that snowstorm tonight," Logan replied with a cold tone, "light the fire," he commanded of her, he pointed to the fire which had died out during the early hours of the morning, "I'll go out and chop more wood."

"We have plenty," Rogue gestured to the pile by the hearth. 

"That won't last for the months I'll be gone," Logan replied and left the cottage through the nearby carved wooden door, it slammed crudely behind him.

          Rogue glanced out of the nearby window as Logan made his way towards the thickets at the back of the cottage – the cottage being directly closest to Bayville Forest – his source for wood.  He grabbed a large axe from its wedged position in the stump he would chop wood upon, and disappeared off.

          It would be strange with Logan gone, Rogue decided as she knelt before the hearth and began to build a fire, outside she heard the distant sounds of the axe thudding against the trunk of a small tree.

          Logan would be gone for several months.  He was a carpenter by trade, but a great war was brewing in the north, and all the able-bodied men in the village had been called upon to join the Bayville armies.

It hadn't been the first time Logan had been called to battle.  However, this was the first time he'd intended to fight so far away from home, and Rogue fretted how she would manage without him around.  Money was tight, the little he made from the furniture he had created would barely cover food for a month, maybe more, and there was no telling how long he'd be away.

Rogue wished she'd learned to fight, so that she might join him in his adventures, but the women of Bayville were limited to sewing, cooking, cleaning and keeping a fire going.  These things were not much to fill up a day, while the men had their beer in the tavern, worked their trades, and hunted for game.  A woman's place was not to fight, Rogue had always been told, and Logan had never let her touch his sword, that beautiful two handed sword he always had in a sheath at his back whenever he went to battle.  He even had a name for it.  Storm.  When Rogue had asked why he'd chosen that name, he'd said that the blade, when she hit the light, she flickered like lightning, and so she'd gotten her name.

Right now, Storm was upon the large table by the door, sheathed, sitting next to his items of armour and supplies.  Rogue watched it for what felt like an hour in complete awe.  She wanted to touch it, to hold it with her hands and feel the balance of it.  She felt drawn to it, drawn to hold a sword and swing it.

Rogue listened for the thudding of the axe, it was still going strong, he would not be back for several minutes.  She got up, intent on just examining the sword.

Tentatively she made her way towards it, when her foot pressed against the creaking floorboard in the middle of the room, her heart felt as if it might have stopped, and that Logan might have walked in, she swallowed and approached the table, took hold of the sword, it was heavy that she could just barely lift it and no more. 

          The door opened again and Logan stood with an arm full of wood, he looked at her, displeased with her touching his prized sword.  "What are you doing…"
          "There was dust on the sheath, I was wiping it off," Rogue said sheepishly, she pretended to quickly wipe the sword with her sleeve, then put the sword down.

          Logan frowned a little, but decided to let it go, "I've cut enough wood to do you a while, there's some larger chunks of it out there, but you can work an axe pretty well, it won't take too much effort to chop some more," he said, he placed it down in the pile.  Make sure you always have plenty in the house.  This shall be a harsh winter.

Rogue nodded, understanding.

"I need to leave soon."

          "Must you go?" Rogue asked, "I don't know if I can be here alone for months…especially through the winter…"

          Logan touched her shoulder tenderly, and smiled softly, "you'll be fine.  You'll have chores, and you're good with a needle, you can always mend clothes for a coin or two in the village."

          Rogue looked down, it had been the first time he'd softened to her in the last few days.  Since he'd been ordered to join the troops up north, he'd been hostile.  It was unintentional of course, but she understood he needed to maintain a cold attitude and stay distanced, to prepare himself for battle.

          Logan stepped over to table and picked his sword up, "Hold this…" he commanded, sounding cold once again.

          Rogue smiled widely, "Really?" she asked.

He nodded, and handed her the sheathed sword carefully.  Rogue accepted it, and held it within her hands, relishing the weight of it.  It felt right to be holding it, she felt powerful, and privileged.   She scrutinized the length, four foot of the finest steel in Bayville.

Logan pulled on his thick leather greaves, and then his armour, his armour was Bezainted armour, leather with thick metal discs studded into it.  He looked splendid in his armour.  He seemed taller, broader and more fierce. 

Rogue approached and handed him his sword.  While he strapped his sword sheath to his back, Rogue grabbed his knapsack and began to fill it with the items he'd need on his journey. 

Bread, cheese and water, just enough to last for a few days journey.  A wineskin, filled with a bitter homemade wine a friend had given him for saving his life.  Along with these other things, Rogue added in some rope, a small vial of herbal medicine bought from the apothecary nearby, and an extra shirt. 

Logan watched her, there was something almost ritualistic about the way she carefully wrapped the cheese and bread cloth, and placed them neatly in the bag, she checked the vial stopper was in securely and folded the extra shirt and added these.  She closed the bag.

"The bread and cheese will only last a few days," Rogue said as she handed him the knapsack, she kept her head low, to hide the expression of sadness upon her pale face.

"Its' fine, I'll be passing through more than a few villages on my way up to the north, there'll always be an opportunity to buy more food."

Rogue nodded, and kept her head low.

Logan sighed, "I know you're upset that I'm leaving, I don't have much choice…you know that."

Rogue raised her eyes to his for a few moments, "I know…just go, I'll be fine, I promise."

Logan smiled softly, "always chop as much wood as you can on fairer days, you never know when you might be snowed in.  If you must be snowed in, at least you'll be warm…" he picked up his coinbag from the table and spilled a few gold, silver and copper coins into his hand, and counted, "this is all I can spare.  Spend it wisely, haggle with the shopkeeps, and don't carry it all at once," he instructed, "I bid you farewell now."

He did not hug or kiss Rogue goodbye.  He simply squeezed her shoulder, gave her one last glance, and then left, the door closed quietly behind himself, and Rogue fell to her knees and sobbed.