A/N: Part of a larger story I have in mind with a character that I've had for around 5 years now, who I can't seem to let go. Consider this a trial piece. I would appreciate any feedback you have for me.
A muffled sound escapes her, but it is auditory. She closes her eyes for a second, thinking that everything that has happened, and what now lies before her has all been part of some elaborate dream. Or perhaps spirits have addled her brain again, making her see and hear what is not there and what does not exist.
But as she allows the blue of her eyes to scan the world before her once more. She finds herself once again presented with a choice.
Zara, the Hydra, does not have choices. She is a soldier, who does what she is told because it is her duty, no more and no less.
She clasps the wooden staff she keeps partially hidden beneath her coat. But she maintains the thin line spread across her lips, unwilling to show any discomfort around others that she does not know, that she does not trust.
"Miss Zara?"
Her name on the blue-toned German boy's tongue stirs her from her internal thoughts, and refocuses her attention on the small group of X-Men before her. She does not know their names, except for Kurt, who helped her during harder times, the redhead is also there, and their professor sits in between.
She is not here to fight, nor are they, but even still, she keeps her rightmost hand tense, prepared if things go south. Though she hopes it will not come to that, she is not a fighter, that is not what Magnus keeps her for.
But as she maintains eye contact with the three before her, observing their movements for the slightest sign of deceit in their intentions, her mind dwells back to the choice she has been presented with.
Their professor has offered a place for her among his X-Men, an escape from the life she has lived for the past twenty years, a sanctuary where she will never have to experience fear because of what she is.
And a small part of her, perhaps the child in her that could never quite come to terms with what she has become, wants to desperately accept that choice. But she remains still, her free hand unflinching, her face set in a stone like gaze that tries so very hard to mask her inner insecurities.
To take the professor's offered hand means freedom, a new life for her to forge as she pleases. She would no longer be subjected to Magnus' whims.
But, perhaps then, that is the problem – that she will loose him. She will loose one of the first people outside of her family that did not see her as a monster, and who has been a constant in her life for over twenty years, just as she has been in his.
She tells herself everyday that it is not love that compels her to remain by his side. That it is a personal necessity related to security and safety, and it helps her feel purposeful. But when she truly thinks about it, when she thinks about what faith and loyalty masquerade behind, she becomes aware of her buried sentiments.
But whatever feelings she may harbor for the man are inconsequential, because he will never look at her in the same light that she does him. She is important to his goals, yes, but not in that way.
No
.
The word comes forth from her tongue suddenly, without any prior thought, automatically. At first she is unsure if the word merely popped into her head, loud and clear, but as she notices the professor withdraw his hand back into his lap, and the contorted faces of the students beside him, she knows she has said it aloud. Perhaps too loud, too forceful. She has never been very tact about such things.
The faces of the students contort into expressions of confusion and uncertainty, while their professor merely nods his head. As if that was the answer he expected from her.
But her tongue pierces the thin line of her mouth, feeling need to express her reasons for rejecting his offer.
"I would not be… beneficial to your X-Men. My power is unwieldy, at times." A brief stutter. "You would be allowing more than just me into the X-Men."
She falters somewhat as she explains, searching for just the right words as to express a point, but without revealing anything that might come back to bite her later. Uncertainty flows within her words, and her nervousness is there for all to see.
Fear is present in her skin, and despite her resolve, she finds she is unable to expel it completely.
"Of course, Ms. Bordeaux, but if you ever change your mind, know that there will always be a place for you among us."
Her choice made, the X-Men and their professor turn to leave her. She does not move as they do so, her eyes glued to their retreating backs, perhaps expecting something foul to come in their place. But nothing does, and as they fade in the distance, her heart relaxes, and her breath resumes its normal pace, fear expelled as her mind becomes calm once more.
Then she turns to leave as well, moving forward at a snail's pace, with her staff to guide and support her. She tries not to think of what has just occurred, best leave that to tomorrow, when it no longer lingers as a floating poison in her brain.
She will return to her home, to her sanctuary, just as she always has after she does her work. It is how it is, and how it will always be, if she has any choice in the matter.