Hey everyone! Thanks for all the reviews and constant patience with my lack of updating. You know the usual reasons why I don't update so I won't bother you with repeating them ;) lol I'm sorry I take so long but when I do something I need to do it right and sometimes that takes time…

BTW: I've noticed that there is a need for some editing in the previous chapters, I'll be looking into that and making some adjustments!

Thanks guys!

-Gams

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Chapter Thirteen – Return

A week later...

The cold air billowed fridgedly around the grounds. Though the snow had ceased since sunrise, white snow caked the grounds like frosting and clad the window pannels of the mansion in ice. Grass and once fruitful trees lay hidden and barren in the wintery wasteland. Éowyn's warm breath turned to mist in the air as the snow crunched and crumbled under her hooves. Rogue kept her to a steady, slow trot as she followed her own tracks around the mansion. With the roads clad in ice, it was perilous if not foolish to attempt to ride out of the confines of the estate. Though Rogue itched to stretch Éowyn's legs beyond the congested confinements of the manor but there was more than just perilous roads that kept her from trying. After being confined to her bed for three solid days, she had sworn she would go mad if she had to stay another day in her bedd-riden prison. John, who periodically checked up on her by the hour, had taken pity on her after the fourth day. He allowed her to walk about the manor so long as someone stayed with her and that she promised to not strain herself. Though she had scoffed at the idea of walking being anything strenuous, she gave her word. Sarah or Jean, who had extended her stay to keep watch of her condition, had been more than obliging to the task. By the fifth day however, Rogue was beyond reasoning or promises; she had to leave the manor or resign herself to madness. On the sixth day, she feigned exhaustion and had Sarah and Jean sent away with the assurance that she only wished to sleep. With her friends preoccupied, she took on her riding habit and cloak and set off the stables. Seeing Éowyn after such a time apart had been liberating but slipping onto her own saddle had felt like summer had arrived in sudden haste. After that, practically nothing could dampen her mood or stop her from returning the day after. Though her route remained continuous and silent, she took her chances as a blessing.

Rogue had just passed the corner of the manor where a monstrous gargoyle snarled its open mouth. She passed it without even a glance but was stopped abruptly when when a familiar voice broke through the frosty silence.

"Begging y' pardon m'Lady but aren't you s'posed t' be on bed rest?"

Rogue silently swore as she turned Éowyn around to face the open window above. As her luck would have it, there stood John from the open window with his arms crossed and a disapprovingly raised brow. She would have been humbled by the disapproving look had she not caught sight of the slight rise in the corner of his mouth. She gave her best mockery of an apologetic smile as she reasoned with a none too innocent tone of voice.

"It has been a week, just lahke the doctor ordered."

John raised his brow a little higher at her reasoning. She was certain he was aware of how his mouth formed a slightly crooked smile.

"And yesterday's ride? That was what the doctor ordered was it?"

Rogue's innocent smile turned feeble and useless in a mere amount of seconds. However it returned shortly when an amused chuckle erupted from John's smiling lips. She realised then that it wasn't his disapproval that caused him to cross his arms but the cold. He shuddered slightly as he wrapped a frail looking scarf tighter around his throat. Rogue smiled amusedly at the sight of him. He looked so out of place with his orange red hair and tanned complexion. She daftly wondered how a man, of John's class and origin, could be so tan. Most men of his status were pale faced and slender in frame but here stood John; tanned, lean but considerably thicker compared to any other manservant she had come across. Her suspicions were cut short when John let out a trembled sigh and spoke.

"Y' a crazy girl bein' out here y' know? Riding out in that bloody cold..."

Gave a gentle chuckle of amusement as he let out another trembled sigh and shook his head. To be honest, the cold irritated her to no end but she'd rather the cold's bite than stay congested in her heated bedroom. At the thought of it, she subconsciously rested a finger to her temple. The stitches had been removed the day before last, leaving a fresh scar to continue healing on its own. Her fingertips trailed the small line as a slight frown spread across her brow. A deep sigh escaped shortly after, turning to a cloud of mist before being corrupted by the cold. No matter what she was doing, somehow her thoughts led her to a pair of red-on-black orbs. It was bad enough they plagued her dreams but as she pondered over the last week and a day, they cotinued to glow in her mind's eyes. After Damien had departed, she had been visited by Alex and Scott. Both had looked haggard with exhaust and worry but nonetheless looked pleased to see her conscious. They, along with Sarah and Jean, spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what she had missed in her absence. Though she enjoyed their company and listened intently, at the back of her mind her thoughts circled around one thing; the night Lord Delmar assaulted her. Even after a week, her memory of the night remained patched and unsorted. Only certain memories stuck out in her mind as she revisited them time and time again. She had hoped that being free of the manor's walls would revive her memories but it only proved to chill her fingers and deepen her suspicions. There was something that Damien- if that really was his name, was hiding from her and he had barely let it slip that night in the library.

"Careful Captain! I didn't see it but I know she hit her head hard. That bastard I'll…"

John's words riffled through her thoughts as she set her gaze on the horizon. Why would he call Damien 'Captain'? At first she had thought it a strange nickname or something but upon closer inspection she didn't recall having heard John call his master by that title. However it wasn't this name that caused her suspicions to rise. Another memory surfaced from that night. John's apologetic voice tremoured with emotion even in her patched memories.

"I'm sorry Remy, truly. If I had only got there sooner, I-"

Rogue frowned at the clouds as they slipped none too discreetly across the sun. The grounds seeme a little colder with the loss of the sun's touch and in turn her brooding thoughts darked.

The name Damien didn't seem to fit anymore.

Nor did the trust she had developed for the liar who wore the name like a mask.

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That night...

The midnight air nipped at his face as Remy set his gaze on the black canvas above. No clouds disturbed the night sky and thus the air was intense with cold. His breaths turned to smoke in the fridged air as he continued to pace the deck. The gentle crash and hush of the tide tickled his ears as the wood planks of the dock creaked and winced under his feet. Apart from the brisk cold, the night was as clear and calm as the city that slept around him. Not a light nor window was lit around the docks and he was grateful for the cover it gave. He and the few crewmen he had with him were disguised in the cloak of darkness, saving them the hinderance of having to hide themselves under the docks or in the water. Remy shivered uncomfortably at the thought of hiding in the water. Give him warm Caribbean waves any day but curse the hour he had to swim in the cursed ice that surrounded the harbor. If all ran swift and smooth this night, he was sure that the event would barely have to cross his mind. For the third time in the last five minutes, he checked his pocket watch only to close it with a silent curse of French. They were running late. He continued to pace the deck, his footsteps careful and muted by the gentle crashes of the tide until finally a new sound caught his ears. His head turned, as did the crewsmen not a minute later, to watch as a shadow passed over the narrow street passage ahead. The large shadow was followed swiftly by a common horse cart.

The sight caused a triumphant smirk to spread lazily across the Captain's face. As the cart came to a halt at the mouth of the gangway, four cloaked figures climbed out. While other three began to unload the cart, the stockiest of the four approached the Captain. A gruff grunt of acknowledgement was how he greeted his Captain before he spoke.

"Everythin's set Cajun."

"No problems wit' de transaction I take it?"

The older man gave an amused snort and grinned as he removed his hood. His black hair was shaped like a pair of wolf ears in its pointed, wild form. James Howlett's blue eyes, though filled with dark amusement, constantly flickered about their surroundings. The ever watchful First Mate was suspicious of their surroundings as he replied the Captain.

"We got in an' out without a sound, Cajun. But-"

As if on cue, the sound of brisk horse hooves beating against cobble-stone road broke the conversation. Both men turned in time to catch the blackened, clustered shadow of French Soldiers on horseback. A second later, both plunged into action. With the last of the trunks settled into the two long-boats, Remy ordered the three men to one boat while he and Logan took the other. The troops had just passed from being mere shadows to flesh and blood when they arrived at the mouth of the empty jetty. Their leader ordered them to dismount and follow as he stepped out onto the jetty. The boards groaned and creaked in uneasy protest under their boots as they made their way down the spine of weathered wood. Each set their eyes to the dark blindly as they shuffled carefully down the jetty as one step too far would literally sink them. However as they came to the end of the jetty, it was clear that whatever had come here was well and truly gone. Their commander gave an aggravated grunt as he eased his rifle from a pointed hold. One of the men questioned him in an anxious French accent.

"You do not think it was him do you?"

The commanding soldier gave an audible scoff of disbelief as he turned to his inferior. A disbelieving scowl played across his face as he retorted.

"Do not be a fool Claude. Le Diable Blanc is a foolish Sea tale cooked up by love-sick ladies and half-mad ruffians!"

Claude gave an anxious glance about the docks he clutched his rifle so tightly it quivered in his hands. His commander gave a roll of his eyes as he set back down the jetty. The others followed in tow as he replied.

"They must have gone the other way-"

He broke off suddenly as he came to a stop. Some of the troops collided into each other behind him and once again as he pushed past them. He made sure to hide his footsteps by stepping carefully. Not a sound breathed as he, and two of his men, moved slowly towards the end of the jetty. The commander's eyes set intently upon the wooden planks as a frow marred his face. The rest of his troops stood still and silent at the mouth of the jetty and watched as the commander came to a stop about ten feet away from the edge. Two short-cut seconds later, he drew his firearm and aimed at the silver of space between the frailing wood. A blast erupted, causing his troops to flinch, leaving a small hole between the planks. The end of the rifle continued to smoke as he took a careful two steps away from the gunshot hole. The air hissed a second time as another bullet embedded itself into the jetty. He was careful to keep the shots evenly spaced so not to unsettle the jetty as he took aim and shot a second time. He was loading another bullet when that same sound pinched his ears. Carefully, he stepped towards the edge of the jetty with his firearm paused for a clear shot. However at the last minute, he turned back and fired a few feet beyond his first bullet hole. The turn of surprise caused even his men to jump but nothing else stirred with action. An irritated sigh rumbled through his throat as he stopped noisily back to the road. The dark encased the soldiers once more as they disappeared down the same narrow street they came.

As soon as the sound of hurried hooves became deaf on their ears, the men in the two boats below the feeble jetty emerged silently from beneath. However their stealthy disposition was, quite literally, shot when their Captain let out a pained grunt. James was at his Captain's side within moments.

"You alright boy?"

Remy let out a stiff chuckle at the title the older man gave him but it turned to another grunt of pain as he rested a hand to his shoulder. Anxious, James quickly pulled the young man's hand back only to give an aggravated growl in response. Blood stained the young man's palm and clotted the torn fabric of his coat as the bullet wound bled freely.

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Several hours later...

Rogue's eyes flew open at a startled pace. She sat up almost instantly but that did not mean she was immediately wake. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes when the sound of a door knocking caught her ears a seconds time.

"What in the world-?"

A frustrated sigh escaped her as she slipped from the warmth of her own bed to the bitter cold of the floor. She shuddered a sigh as the cold floor boards caught her feet, causing her to jog quickly to the door. The knocker persisted impatiently even after she began to open the door. Rogue glared at the sudden candle light but swiftly turned her gaze to John as she whispered tiredly.

"John-? What are ya doin' here at this tahme-"

"I'm sorry Sheila but there ain't no time for explainations- I need you to come with me right this minute!"

It was then Rogue began to really take in John's appearance. Gone was the charismatic smile and laughing young man and in his stead stood a pale-faced man with unmasked anxiety. His blue eyes flickered anxiously as she questioned him. Worry swelled in her as she spoke.

"John- John what's happened?"

John let out a shaken sigh as he ran a hand down his weary face. He shook his head as he reached out to grasp her hand. His hold was gentle but a firmness remained as he spoke severely.

"Please- Rogue I- Just trust me. I need you to come with me. Please?"

Rogue bit down anxiously on her lower lip. All tiredness that had encrusted her eyes was gone as she silently considered his plead. She had been contemplating whether to trust John since her memories of that night began to surface. He was, after all, engrossed in the little lie that Lord Black had let slip. But one look into that anxious, pleading face was enough to set her distrust at ease. At least for the moment. With a silent sigh and slump of her shoulders, Rogue gave a light nod.

"Can ah get mah wrap first?"

John gave a hurried nod and let her return to the dark of her room. Rogue was quick to grasp her shawl from the end of her bed and wrap it around herself before joining John in the hallway. Taking her arm, he led them by candle light. Some thirty or so seconds later, they came to a stop at Lord Black's door. Rogue's heart began to rage against her chest as she stole a side-wards glance towards John. The worried Aussie gave her a sombre look as he squeezed her hand firmly.

"You're not faintish at the sight o' blood are you?"

Rogue stiffled a gulp as she shook her head.

"Ah don't think so. Why?"

John turned his grave expression back to the door. The door swung open and closed gently behind them before he led her to the main chamber. Rogue's heart stilled for a half a moment before it began to beat like a crazed animal at the sight before her.

Bedridden, a familiar figure laid still against the hill of pillows that cluttered behind him. Bare from the waist up, Lord Black was tucked in comfortably to the bed but the idea of comfort was lost on Rogue as she took notice of the poorly applied bandaging around his chest and his left shoulder. Across his upper shoulder, blood seeped almost as freely as the sweat that drenched his paled face. Those ash and blood eyes turned swiftly to meet her suddenly anxious emerald gaze. A moment later, a frown marred his handsome face and he spoke. His voice struggled to be beyond a rasp.

"Chére? What are y' doing here?"

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-smiles evilly- REVIEW!

-Gams