Well, it's finally here after TWO DAY'S of waiting to post it! Read, Review and Enjoy!
Chapter eleven - (Louisiana, February 1862)
Rogue smiled gently at the sweet expression on Amélie's face as she delivered another soft flurry of tickles to the small child's tummy, a gentle laugh emitting from her as the little girl cried out in gurgled mirth to the playful attack, her full rosy tinted cheeks rising and puffing out into an evidently innocent, youthful smile. After a moment or so, Rogue let up on the childish assault and found herself falling into the captivating hazel eyes of the young infant wriggling around on the Chinese floral rug beside her, the soft orange hued glow from the quietly burning fire from the large open fireplace, lighting up her clear, flawless skin.
"She really likes y'" A fair accented feminine voice told her. Rogue broke her gaze and looked up to where Mercy was sitting on one of the extravagant chaise lounges, her hands expertly threading a needle and dyed thread through and out an expanding tapestry.
"Ya think?" Rogue asked with a smile as she looked back down to Amélie and made a funny face, another bout of babyish gurgles emitting from the playful little girl.
"Oui, she always smiling an' laughin' when y' around. Y' mus' b' more maternal den y' let on Anna?" Mercy teased her with a smile, making Rogue laugh at the blonde woman's jovial observation.
"Ah dunno 'bout th' maternal part, but ah do lahke spendin' tahme with her" She admitted quietly. The house felt eerily silent, the progressive tick of the grand, mahogany varnished Grandfather clock could be heard reverberating throughout the seemingly vacant building and despite her often desire for such a circumstance - she didn't like it. Kitty, Kurt and the troublesome twins were undergoing their daily schooling, her Mother and Priscilla had gone for afternoon tea with an acquaintance, Henri had returned to New Orleans for a few days and Owen was locked away in his study as per usual - all else who were left, were either slaving away in the kitchens and parlors or out in the fields. Rogue had never experienced it so quiet and given the damp, bitter chill in the air outside - she found herself unable to go out and read as she normally would have done on such a lonesome day and instead found herself at a loss as of what to do - incidentally, she had ended up voluntarily playing nursemaid to Amélie most of the day, while Mercy took the chance to relax a little - though like any new Mother, she unconsciously kept a close eye on her rapidly-growing daughter.
"So when's Henri comin' back?" Rogue asked absentmindedly as she watched Amélie pick up and shake a woolen knitted doll in youthful wonder.
"Soon I hope. He said he'd b' gone only a few days but . . who knows wit' de LeBeau famille" Mercy sighed wistfully. Rogue looked up to her and gave as reassuring smile as possible - it wasn't the fact that Henri had left for such a short period of time that was haunting Mercy so, it was the increasing worry that he might be dragged into the seemingly endless crusade against their Northern counterparts. She had watched from afar as men, boys even - signed up for the continual campaign and then a few weeks, sometimes months later, their families would be seen mourning for their loss. The higher authorities had made faulty promises of the war being over by Christmas and for some strange, unidentifiable reason - people believed their lies and held positive hope that it would all be over, that their loved ones would return to them unharmed and untainted by whatever horrors they would have experienced.
But it was not to be. Over two months had passed by since Christmas day and if anything, the raging battle only seemed to have intensified from what they had heard. News was slow to reach their ears, trade was dieing slow and painfully - at many times, it made Rogue wonder why they even continued to fight - and then she would remember that it was because of change, the conservative South - who were quite content with their way of life and were disinclined to transform into the industrialized epicenter that their misguided President had envisioned. Southern pride - it was born into her very soul and despite thinking that perhaps it was time for the traditions of her homeland to change, she would always and forever remain loyal to her roots, even to the death - and that was what she concluded, was the feeling of those who went off into the depths of conflict and of those who were left behind.
An incoherent cry sounded beside her and she immediately looked down to Amélie, who looked particularly displeased and on the verge of one of her now infamous, incoherent baby tantrums.
"I t'ink it's time f' someone t' take a nap" Mercy observed tenderly and Rogue watched silently as she placed her tapestry on the seat beside her and stood up - taking the few steps between herself and her daughter swiftly and bending down to pick up the now wailing infant in her arms and rocking her gently, cooing to her softly. Rogue pushed herself quietly from the floor where she had been sitting with Amélie and smiled faintly at Mercy as she continued to try and soothe the disgruntled girl in her hold.
"Ah'll leave ya to it" Rogue relayed softly, not wanting to disturb the small child anymore than she had become.
"Where y' goin' t' go Anna?" Mercy asked as she made toward the exit from the cozy drawing room.
"Ah think ah might take a walk," She replied after a moments thought.
"Looks like it's goin' t' rain" The other woman observed indifferently as she hushed a slightly calmed Amélie, rubbing her small back ever so lightly in a comforting motion. At her remark, Rogue simply smiled slyly and continued on her way, leaving Mercy to tend in peace to her young offspring.
She walked for a good distance before the sharp and forceful wind finally picked up, the harsh bitterness blowing against her vehemently, causing her to look away from the old decrepit millhouse that was her desired destination, up into the increasingly darkening sky - the sun disappearing swiftly behind a hefty visage of angry, billowing black clouds. Pulling up a hand, she clasped her fingers tightly around the nape of her thick gray mantle and watched with intense intrigue and awe at the magnificent show of Mother Nature performing before her very eyes.
In truth, the spectacle before her, reminded her of the strong emotions tearing about inside her at times, one of those moments being just a day ago when Raven had revealed to her and Kurt that she would be selling their Father's Plantation back in Mississippi. No amount of words could have described how she had felt when her Mother had told her this - hurt, betrayal, homesickness. She had wanted to scream and yell at that instant, despite the childishness of the action - it was like a part of her life, her heart had just been ripped brutally from it's place between her lungs. She had been in every right mind to carry out the action, but her wisdom prevailed and she knew not to blame her Mother entirely for her choice in abandoning her beloved childhood home - if anything she blamed it on the powers that be. If Abraham Lincoln had not won presidency, if the North was not so set on building industry, if the South was not so set in it's ways - she would still be in Mississippi, in her own room - carrying on with life as she imagined she would be.
Specks of rain began to hit her face sporadically - the droplets of clear water bouncing onto her fair skin, before giving in to the forces of gravity and sliding slowly down her exposed face. At first they were light, gradually becoming heavier and falling more rapidly, stinging her bare skin in severe assaults. She stood there just a little longer before a great crash of lightning illuminated the gloomy shaded heavens above, a brazen crack of thunder emitting from overhead following the powerful bolt of electricity and causing her to flinch visibly, throwing her instantly from her incensed reverie.
At once coming to her senses, she turned about and looked back toward the grand house, her eyes squinting against the sharp torrents of rain rudely attacking her sensitive eyes - it would be a good run back and probably not a good idea to travel the long distance in such heavy weather. Without another thought she lifted the tail of her long dress and headed as fast as her legs would carry her over to the closer distanced millhouse ahead.
Making it below the outer shelter of the small, wooden edifice - she released her grip on her clothing and allowed the deep, shallow breaths that were aching to be released out into the atmosphere. Shivering just a little from her sopping wet clothes, she raised a hand tentatively and pushed the equally soaked strands of hair that had somehow plastered themselves onto her face, away. She had not been up to this area of the Plantation land for a good while and inquisitively she started to slowly pace her way around the hexagonal porch of sorts. She had but taken a few steps when without warning, she heard a voice that turned her stomach full circle.
"Rogue?" At the deeply accented use of her nickname, she spun around defensively with an audible gasp and looked up wild-eyed and open mouthed to the one face she had been least expecting to see.
"Re . . Remy? Whaht ar' ya doin' heah? Ah thought ya were in New Orleans?" She questioned swiftly, still shaken from his sudden and as yet unexplained appearance. He looked guiltily at her for a moment at having scared her so, running a hand through his unruly dripping wet hair, pushing it away from his face.
"Je suis désolé chére, I didn't mean t' fright'n y'. Forgive m', we . . . me an' Henri arrived not long aft'r y' left an' . . I followed y'" He mumbled the last part almost incoherently, looking away for just a moment before looking back into the widened green eyes before him. Rogue looked on in astonishment, making sense of the few words that had been said and allowed a few silent moments to pass between them - the backdrop of pelting rain becoming completely oblivious to her, the strikes of electricity across the sky doing nothing to faze her intense gaze.
"Ya followed meh? Why?" She asked quietly. He seemed uncomfortable at her words and looked intently back at her.
"Rogue . . Anna . . I . ." Remy's words drifted off and with little reaction from Rogue, he scrunched his eyes up in frustration at not being able to get his words out and paced about in a restless circle, pulling yet another hand through his sopping wet hair before with a final deep breath he rushed toward her and took hold of her motionless hands at her side, looking intensely into her wide confused emerald eyes. A moment of silence fell between them as another violent fork of lightning flashed across the sky followed by a distinct crack of rumbling thunder - the forceful display of nature doing nothing to draw their attention from each other's gaze.
"Would y' do me de honor o' takin' m' hand in marriage?"
Big thank you's to those who reviewed chapter 10 - Lee, Rogue-Slayer13, Enchantedlight, RAMALOT4, Cajuncrazy, Retrimesuroth, Musagirl15 and Black Clove for your lovely reviews, hope y'all liked this chapter too.
So, until next time (Which isn't too far ahead may I add) . . .