Ice Within the Fire: Aithne's Story Chapter 1, a x-men fanfic

AN: I don't own any of the X-Men Characters. I do own Aithne and Kelpie, however, Aunt Erika, the story-line, and all animal characters she converses with, including the gang members :P. Vixen belongs to one Melody S. (an ex-friend of mine), Aquifer belongs to Rob G. (soon-to-be famous fantasy writer!), Sensherak (aka Alan) belongs to an ex-online/rpg-bf whom no longer speaks to me. Phew! If I've missed anyone, let me know :P

If any of you have read my bio, you'll know that I'm not fluent at Gaelic at all, I only know a few words and phrases. If any of you happen to know Gaelic, and I make a mistake, please, let me know, it's the only way I'm gonna learn! There are some Gaelic words in here that I've acquired through reading and such, just not in this particular chapter.

Please review, guys, as it keeps me in good spirits and in the writing mood. At the moment, I'm merely doing this as a pastime but I'm back in school now so I'm going to need some motivation to continue posting.

CHAPTER 1

Aithne MacGealach tapped her flame red cane in front of her as she walked down the deserted street. Her red-blonde hair was tied back in a braid but loose tendrils curled about her face and bounced as she walked. She wore a kelly-green long-sleeve shirt under a black double-breasted long-jacket with white goddess-bootleg pants.

Her pale face was accentuated with black sunglasses that hid her once green eyes that were now a cloudy white. Only a slim ring of the palest green showed where her irises were. Aithne had been blind since she had been eight-years-old. Since the fire.

That had been eleven years ago. Now she was used to not seeing the things around her. Then again, just because she didn't see, didn't mean she couldn't see. She could hear much better than those with normal sight and smell just as well. Due to her mutant ability--creating and controlling fire--she could sense body heat.

All those senses helped her stay alive. After the fire that had killed her parents and her younger sister, she had been sent to live with her Aunt Erika, a woman she had hated with every fiber of her being. Erika had been a very powerful telepathic. So powerful that she could control others on a whim and did so frequently and without regrets. She had used Aithne for her powers.

Over the years, Aithne finally built up her mind against Erika's intrusion and escaped when she was fourteen. She had been on her own since then. She had relatives somewhere, but hadn't been able to find them. Her mother's sister was living somewhere in Colorado, she remembered the pictures of her family in the house before the fire. But it was hard to search for a family when one had to avoid the authorities or anyone remarkably involved with the system. She hadn't wanted to go into foster care. After Aunt Erika, she had trusted no one. She had survived on the streets by begging, borrowing and even stealing money and food.

Finally at sixteen she had landed a job at a clothing store in a mall. She had worked odd hours, accepted a meager pay, and was finally able to afford an apartment of her own above a restaurant after she turned seventeen. A year later, she had gotten word that Erika had died. Aithne had celebrated that night. It had been the best day of her life, knowing that the bitch would never be able to touch her or anyone else ever again. The last two years had been bliss for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Aithne heard four boys step from an alley behind her. She heard them follow in her wake and she gripped her cane firmer, her thumb caressing a hidden button, as her other hand gripped her purse. Other than that, she gave no sign that she knew they were there.

Why people thought she was deaf when she was only blind was beyond Aithne, but nonetheless the boys were sniggering and laughing as they formed a half-circle behind her. She quickened her steps but they followed suit.

A bolder one stepped forward and reached for her purse. Aithne suddenly stopped, turned toward them and, twirling her cane, she pressed the button so quickly that the boy barely had time to stop before the three foot long blade touched his throat. He stood there, gulping as the sharp blade rested against his skin.

"All of ye scram before I slit yer throats," she said steadily with a Scottish accent. She had never been to Scotland, swearing that one day she would, but her accent was authentic. She had inherited it from her father, a Scot born and bred, who had come to the United States with his parents when he was just a child.

Her heat-sensing abilities picked up the movement of one boy as he reached toward his pocket. Aithne pressed the blade closer to her prisoner's throat and pointed a finger at the moving boy. "Ye stop movin' yer hand, lad, or I'll run Mr. Macho 'ere through and start again with ye. Got it?"

"Do as she says, guys," said her prisoner. He must have been their leader because they did as he said and didn't move.

"Good, now get," she said, lowering her blade. They started moving away slowly. When they figured they were in safe range, they turned and ran down the alley they had appeared from.

She resheathed her blade then turned back around and continued walking. She took a few side routes, to make certain she wasn't being followed. She finally reached her home, her feet aching and dead-tired. Slowly she climbed the steps to her one-bedroom apartment, reaching into her pocket for her keys.

The sound of two motorcycles filled the night air and she listened to them as they stopped at the bar across the street.

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Vixen stopped her bike next to Wolverine's and dismounted, putting the keys in her pocket. She looked around her as she always did and did a double take at a figure across the street. As she watched, the girl slid a key in nat the same time she took off her sunglasses and slipped inside the apartment.

"Somethin' wrong, darlin'?" Wolverine asked as he saw her raised eyebrows.

Vixen ran a hand through her hair and then looked up at him. "It's been way too long since I've had a beer. I swear I just saw Kelpie with red hair go into that apartment."

Wolverine chuckled and grasped her shoulders, leading her toward the bar entrance. "Quick, then. We'll getcha a beer before ya start seein' Ra too."

Aithne locked the door and turned into her apartment only to stop in her tracks. She frowned. Something wasn't right. She had closed that window before leaving for work that morning. She felt air move to her right and spun, unsheathing her blade and thrust it toward the body heat that had suddenly appeared from the bedroom. She could smell them now; the same boys from the alley. How had they found her apartment and gotten in before her?

The boy that had charged her stopped in his tracks and back-peddled to avoid her weapon. "I told ye tae scram. Now get out before I call the police."

The leader's voice boomed with laughter. "There's eight of us now, girlie. And you can't see any of us."

Aithne smiled cruelly. "On the contrary." She twirled her cane then thrust it out to her right. The blade slid easily into flesh, through ribs and into a heart. She jerked it free and listened to the boy fall silently to the ground. He had never seen it coming and hadn't uttered a sound. "Ye didna think I kenned he was there, did ye?" Her voice became hard. "All of ye leave now before ye end up like yer friend."

She heard the leader grit his teeth. "Get 'er!"

No one moved.

"She's only one, we're seven!" the leader cried. Still, they hesitated "Fer Christ sake! She's fuckin' blind! Kill 'er or I'll kill you!"

That seemed to force the group into action. The four remaining men converged on her at once as the leader stood back and watched. Aithne slashed the first one across the throat and he dropped to his knees, gurgling with blood gushing. Turning, she thrust her cane forward, the blade embedding deep in the man's chest. She twisted and jerked the blade out and the man dropped.

At a signal from their leader, the last two fell back to stand beside him. A silent command traveled between the three and they turned, rushing her. She managed to impale one before she was tackled to the ground. The cane was kicked away from her and one held her down as she began screaming, hoping someone on the street below would hear her pleas. God forbid, she may have to use her powers, she thought as the leader began to pound her face in.

Both Vixen and Wolverine heard the scream that otherwise wouldn't have been detected over the din of the bar. They looked at each other then sighed and paid for their drinks, hurrying out of the bar.

"There!" said Vixen as she pointed to the apartment above the restaurant across the street. Flames were flickering through the window.

Aithne couldn't keep the fear inside anymore. It erupted out of her in a burst of flame, engulfing the man who was beating her. She heard the screams of the other as he was consumed by the fire. She smelled the smoke, felt the heat on her skin and heard a feint pounding on her door before she passed out.