Thanks/AN

Thank you to xXBluefangXx, ROMYFan, dog444, DragonRose78, E, AmberLady42, couplest, Kalternativa, Warrior-princess1980, Jehilew, Ardhoniel Marvelite, ferretlady, ooo Blue Rose ooo, TrOuBLeDObSeSSioN, and Guests! This chapter is dedicated to each of you for sticking with me. Your feedback makes me want to get updates out to y'all sooner!

To quote Samuel L. Jackson in Jurassic Park, "Hold on to your butts!" We're in the downhill stretch and things are going to be pretty nonstop from here until the end.

Chapter 33

Soft lips pressed against his chest, gently waking Remy from the first restful night he'd had in weeks. Momentarily forgetting where he was, he burrowed into the warmth of the sheets while wrapping his arms around the woman bestowing sweet kisses across his shoulder and neck. As her fingers tentatively caressed his skin, the grogginess of sleep slowly lifted. She smoothed over each ridge of his abs, lingering in the soft hair dusting his stomach. He instantly became aware when her small hand brushed over his morning arousal before closing around it with a hesitant squeeze.

Remy's pulse pounded in his veins as blood rushed to thicken his excitement. A lazy smirk graced his lips as he throbbed against the stroking grip. Finally cracking his eyes, he was met with the verdant gaze of his lovely wife. An innocent blush tinged Rogue's cheeks, even though they had spent the better part of the last seven days lowering her inhibitions. Days that ended with newly discovered physical explorations and nights wrapped in a tangled knot of naked limbs. A delicious contradiction, his wife exhibited both naivety and experience. Their still rocky relationship had added to her shy insecurity, but she had quickly grown confident with a little encouragement from him. The fact that she was initiating this encounter added to his pleasure.

Pushing off the covers just enough to reach his waist, Rogue gently pressed on his shoulder. Remy took her cue and rolled onto his back, never breaking contact with those sparkling green depths. His pupils dilated as he watched her glide down his body, settling between his muscular thighs before swiping the tip of her tongue around his head. Still held tightly in her grasp, he throbbed and twitched as she sucked him into her mouth. Her tongue drew a firm line up the underside of his tip, making his hips flex in an attempt to get her to take more of his length. Rogue quickly obliged with an up-down, in-out rhythm.

Remy groaned, his head pressed back into his pillow while his left hand reached out to fist the sheets. The effort was in vain. As soon as his tip hit her throat and Rogue hollowed out her cheeks, his right hand shot out to tangle in her hair. Guiding her strokes, he reveled in the twisting movements of her tongue across his sensitive flesh. When her free hand gently grasped his balls, he buried both hands in her hair. Remy's hips lifted up to meet her downward momentum, but he held her head in place as he pistoned back in to her warm mouth.

Humming in pleasure, his wife followed his lead. The buzzing sensation pulled a guttural purr from Remy's throat. He unexpectedly jerked up when her finger ran across the line on his sac. He could feel the coil building in the base of his spine, winding tighter as he came closer to orgasm. But it was the sudden pressure from her knuckle that released the tension with snap in an overwhelming, uncontrollable explosion. Convulsing waves rolled through his muscles as he came multiple times. Remy moaned in ecstasy, barely registering that Rogue's lips were still tightly wrapped around him. He gasped for air, unable to suck in enough oxygen.

As Remy slowly came down, his whole body trembled. Like he couldn't hold his own weight if he tried, if his life depended on it. Rogue continued to gently stroke and massage him, easing off his body to help him gain control. Except her gentle ministrations over his hypersensitive skin only delayed his efforts. At last pulling away, she crawled up his body and nuzzled into his side. Her fingers traced odd patterns against his chest, occasionally brushing against his nipple and causing a new twitch from his relaxing member.

"Good mornin', Rem." Rogue softly whispered against his skin before pressing a sweet kiss over his still racing heart.

A rough chuckle rumbled through his body as he hoarsely answered, "Bon matin t' y' too, mamour."

If this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life, he would die a very happy man. And yet, it was the expert way in which she'd handled his body that gave him pause. Remy was still having a hard time reconciling that his very innocent wife was very experienced in the bedroom.

"Chère?" He broached, unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question. He debated over the phrasing before finally settling on, "How'd y' know 'bout de knuckle thing?"

What he'd really wanted to ask was from whom she'd learn it, but he really didn't want to always have a name, a third person, in bed with them. Instead, her answer surprised him.

"Yer memories." She matter-of-factly stated.

His memories? True, it wasn't the first time he'd had a stimulated orgasm. It had happened one other time during that year long break from Bella Donna when he was nineteen. But it wasn't like he'd thought about it in years. From what he understood of Rogue's mutation, she had to go looking for memories. And the only time she'd absorbed him had been when they were sparring in the master thieves' training room right after they were married. Had she been using her powers on him without his knowledge, or consent, all this time? The perceived betrayal soured his already weak stomach.

"I thought y' didn't take memories unless y' actively looked fo' 'em?" He challenged, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Ah don't." Rogue answered, her fingers pausing on his chest.

When he didn't respond, Rogue sat up to look into his face. She reached to gently brush a lock of hair off his sweaty forehead, but he intercepted her hand.

Squeezing it a little harder than intended, Remy asked, "Then how'd y' know 'bout that."

Rogue stared in his eyes, trying to understand what set him off. When were they going to stop taking two steps forward only to fall back one?

"It was linked ta yer memories 'bout controllin' yer mutation. That's all Ah took that day in the gym. Yer mutation and the memories of how ta control it." She answered, hoping he believed her.

Remy's brow furrowed in anger, then confusion as he thought over her words. There was no way that memory was related to controlling his mutation. If anything…oh! Realization dawned on him.

That was the first time he'd lost control of his mutation. The same sensations that had him paralyzed with pleasure now had ripped through him then. Only he'd been less experienced with his mutation. Using it had always come easy. A simple thought and it manifested. The same was true for the reverse: stop thinking about it and it disappeared. Except that day he'd barely had any control over his thoughts, much less his body. So when the pillow started glowing with his mutation and he couldn't withdraw the charge, he'd had to throw it out the window. The experience spooked him and he'd spent the next six months inadvertently charging, sometimes blowing up, random things. It wasn't until he'd nearly blown off Henri's finger that he focused enough to remember what it felt like to de-charge an item.

Lack of control went hand in hand with ability to control.

As the knowledge sunk in, he immediately reached out for her.

"Anna, je suis désolé!" He said, his hand running up and down her arm as he silently prayed she wouldn't pull away.

"Remy…" Rogue held her breath for a moment, needing him to understand the levity of what he just did. "Ah forgive ya, sugar, but we gotta stop doin' this ta each other."

"I know, chère, I know!" He pulled away long enough to run his hands through his hair. "It's just…habits are hard t' break. Be patient wit' me?"

A soft smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she leaned down to kiss him. With her lips barely brushing his, she said, "Ah'll try, Cajun, but patience ain't exactly somethin' either of us is good at. Ah might need some gentle reminders myself."

Another kiss had him wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body. The sweet flutters quickly turned into open mouth nips as their tongues tantalized each other.

"Mm. I can do gentle remindin'. In fact, I think there's some gentle remindin' I need t' do right now." Remy smirked before flipping them over so she was on her back and he was resting between her thighs.

Rogue giggled as he playfully attacked her neck, his scruffy cheek grazing across her tender flesh. She pulled the covers up over their heads and wrapped her legs around his waist. Bucking her hips, she tried to knock his heavier weight off her, not willing to surrender so easily to his impassioned caresses.

(X)-(X)-(X)

As Remy drove the armored black SUV through the steel gates, Rogue observed the dull gray building in front of them. Situated on neutral ground in the Port of Orleans, the location was accessible only from the Audubon District via a restricted service road. Specially designed RFID scanners opened the gates when authorized vehicles approached while blocking out curious passersby. Otherwise, the unimpressive structure's exterior belied the opulence of the interior and its grandiose purpose.

"So this is the new Unified Guild headquarters." She observed, her eyes roaming over the nondescript façade until Remy pulled the vehicle into the warehouse's designated interior parking.

As he shifted the SUV into park, he grabbed Rogue's hand in his and gave it a little squeeze as he asked, "Y' ready?"

"As Ah'll ever be." Her tone was grim, not looking forward to the next few hours.

Exiting the car, Remy chivalrously came around Rogue's side of the vehicle to hold her door open. As soon as she was out and the door closed behind her, he wrapped his arm around her waist. With a gentle tug, Remy bumped his hip against hers as they walked toward the heart of the meeting rooms. Rogue looked up at him, giving him a small smile for his efforts.

Despite their early morning escapades, the last few weeks had been nothing but a whirlwind of pain and despair for the couple. Barely a week had passed since they had buried Etienne in the family caveau with a small graveside service. Needless to say, Toussaint hadn't attended the beloved Marceaux cousin's funeral. Instead, he was in Thieves' custody where he had been ever since Remy called for the ceremony to revoke the lesser thief's mastery. The day had finally come to excise one of their own from the Unified Guild.

No sooner had they crossed into the antechamber than Theoren approached them. He gave a fleeting once over to Rogue before addressing his cousin.

"Nonc Jean-Luc says he needs t' see y' before de ceremony begins." He said.

"It can wait." Remy dismissed and tried to walk past him, but Theoren grabbed his arm.

His jaw flexed as he ground out, "Yo' père says it can't."

The two men eyed each other up for a moment before Remy shook off his cousin's grip.

"D'accord," He answered before turning to Rogue and softly asking, "I'll meet y' inside like we planned?"

"Yeah, sugar. No worries." Rogue gave him a gentle smile in return.

Continuing on her way, she passed through a corridor that led to a secret consultation room. Only she, Remy, and the construction crew knew about the corridor since it was supposed to be where the guildmasters would retreat for any private strategizing. It also served the overly dramatic purpose of letting them slip into the council chambers as if out of thin air. Before she could reach the hidden doorway, Marius stepped out of the shadows.

"Fille." He addressed her.

Rogue internally cringed but held her chin high. She hated when he called her that. In French, the word meant both daughter and girl, so she could never tell whether he was being more condescending than usual.

"Père." She nodded her head.

"I've had enough stallin'. Y' kill that fils now, during de ceremony, or I take out his death warrant and assign it t' y'."

"Are you mad?" Rogue spit out before she realized what she'd said. Unwilling to back down, she continued, "If I kill him now, every thief will attack every assassin in that room."

Instead of blowing up over her insolence like she thought he would, Marius just slowly backed her into the corner. When she hit the wall and had nowhere left to go, he leaned down and said, "Non, they won't. They'll attack their patriarch's murderer. Do y' think it'll be Jean-Luc or Henri that wraps his hands around that deadly li'l neck of yo's first?"

Rogue's eyes widened as she imagined the scene that Marius described. The thieves would go after her, still covered in Remy's blood, while the assassins sat back and watched. She was just as much a stranger to them as any thief. They held no allegiance to her other than they were told to do so because she was their matriarch. When it was all said and done, she would kill Remy, the thieves would kill her, and the assassins would agree that justice had been carried out so the peace of the Unified Guild could survive.

Reading the dread on her face, Marius roughly grabbed her arm, spun her around, and used the leverage to twist it up behind her back. The pain was tolerable, but the fear that he would fracture her humerus left her immobilized. The counter movement to break the hold required her taking a step to her right and looping her leg around his to knock off his balance. Except he held her in the corner where the wall prevented her from making the critical first step.

Pressing his body into hers, spittle landed in her ear as he said, "Ah, I see it now. Y've no intention of fulfillin' yo' purpose, now do y', hein? I bet y' even fancy yo'self in love wit' him?"

"NO!" Rogue violently objected, vainly struggling against him.

"Did y' spread yo' legs fo' him, too, sale pute?" Marius continued. "Maybe I should just let Julien have his way and kill y' now. Save me de trouble later."

"NO!" She repeated, seeing no other way out than to agree with her adoptive father. "Ah'll do it! Ah'll do it."

"Durin' de ceremony." He stated, waiting for her confirmation.

Defeated, Rogue sobbed as she said, "Yes."

Twisting her arm a little tighter until he saw her wince, Marius prompted again, "'Oui quoi?"

"Yes, Ah'll do it durin' the ceremony." Against her will, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

"Bon." Her adoptive father stepped back, but kept her arm twisted behind her. "Don't fail me this time, fille, or there will be no next time."

"Everythin' okay here?" Remy asked. Rogue whimpered, stifling her relief at hearing his voice.

Marius quickly maneuvered so it looked like he was helping Rogue adjust her clavicle. "Nothin' but tryin' t' help ma fille re-align her collarbone. Said it was givin' her a pain somethin' fierce."

His false smile didn't fool Remy. He'd been standing in the shadows for several seconds, long enough to know Rogue had agreed to do something during the ceremony and that Marius had literally twisted her arm into capitulating. All the same, he wasn't about to give away this morsel of intelligence.

Turning his gaze to Rogue, he coldly asked, "Feelin' better, chère?"

A reminder tug on her arm had her gritting out a pained smile as she said, "Yeah, all better now."

"See, we're good, ain't we?" Marius patted her shoulder more roughly than necessary but strode away from her and toward Remy. "Y' take good care of ma fille now, y' hear?"

As soon as Marius started walking, Remy kept his gaze focused on the other man. There was no way he was taking his eyes off this viper.

"Oui, monsieur." He mock saluted, turning his head ever so slightly so he would be able to see Marius' retreating form.

"Bon garçon!" The former patriarch condescended before leaving the couple in the antechamber alone.

Once she was sure Marius was gone, Rogue rushed over to Remy. She flung her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest, choking on a dry sob.

He paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around her shoulders. His heart ached when she winced at the tight embrace.

"Are y' okay, Rogue?" Remy asked.

She nodded, incapable of coherent speech as she tried to catch her breath. When she finally felt like she could talk, she said, "Ah love ya, Remy. Please remember that."

He held her closer, rubbing his hands up and down her back, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything more than an acknowledgement of her words. How could he when that hint of betrayal was back again.

"'Course y' do, chérie. 'Course y' do."

(X)-(X)-(X)

Designed specifically with both guilds in mind, the council chamber was the perfect mix of Thieves' and Assassins' traditions. A soft murmur buzzed around the half lit, high ceilinged room. Two uneasy groups congregated as far away from each other as possible, speaking in quiet whispers.

The large space was dominated by an ovaloid table, the center of which was carved out and a brightly lit dais stood in its place. At one end were two chairs, cloaked in pitch black. Their high-backs and ornately gilded design were mere faint golden outlines. On the opposing end, the table opened wide enough to allow a single person passage to the platform. Seats were positioned around the perimeter, spotlighted or enshrouded in an alternating pattern. The rest of the room was as dark as night, save for the pale warm glow accenting the walls.

Soothing, rippling chimes sounded over the din, indicating those assembled should take their seats. Thieves assumed the lighted positions while the assassins took the shadowed ones. The arrangement forced the mutual trust of an occupant's neighbor since there was no way to watch for simultaneous attacks.

With everyone settled, the doors leading into the council chamber opened. A blinding light backlit three silhouettes standing in the doorway. As the trio moved closer to the table, the shadows turned into Gris Gris, Toussaint, and Emil. The assassin Besider and thieves Mercurial served as prison guards to the accused. Approaching the opening in the table, Toussaint stopped and refused to step forward. Gris Gris gave the thief a shove onto the dais, his flexing jaw the only indication that the assassin took pleasure in the role. Emil uncomfortably shifted his weight during the display. He had never really liked Toussaint, but he wasn't thoroughly convinced the man had anything to do with Etienne's death.

As Toussaint assumed his position in the center of the platform, a bright light flooded the two seats at the head of the table. Raising his bound hands, he tried to shield his eyes from the additional spotlight. The fixtures had been positioned to create a halo effect over the two occupants while blinding anyone standing on the dais. As his eyes adjusted, he could barely make out the new Unified Guildmasters. The Duumvirate in turn simply stared at him, emotionless in their appraisal.

Without anyone detecting their entrance, Remy and Rogue had slipped into the room and their high-backed chairs while the thieves and assassins still huddled in their respective groups. From their outwardly relaxed position, it was clear they had been there for quite some time. Though neither of them acknowledged it, both were aware that every eye in the room was zeroed in on them. The symbols of the new Unified Guild were laid out in front them: a round stone the size of a softball and antique balance scales.

Lifting the basalt maul, Remy rhythmically knocked the smooth black stone on the table three times. "De Duumvirate parlays this Invalidation t' order."

There hadn't been enough time to determine how to run the Invalidation, so they decided to take turns speaking.

"Mercurial," Rogue alternately answered. Her projected voice made Emil snap to attention. "Roll the Ministers and Enforcers."

Since a thief was on trial, Jean-Luc went first followed by Marius. After the former patriarchs, the Thieves Ministers and the Assassins Enforcers called out their names in order of their previous guild ranks. As each council member declared their presence, Rogue lined up small weights behind the scales. The motion helped keep her mind off the heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

While a moue turned down her face, Remy 's hard expression belied the storm raging below the surface. Whatever had gone on between Rogue and Marius fueled his turmoil over losing his cousin. Even after everything he'd discovered in Atlantic City, he still laid the blame at Toussaint's feet for messing up the job in the first place. Maybe Etienne would have still gone after another foolhardy opportunity, maybe not. But in Remy's mind, he would have at least been available to help protect his cousin regardless of the younger Marceaux being in love with Rogue.

Suppressing the rising desire for vengeance, Remy read the charges in a strong, commanding voice. "Vincens Toussaint, y' have been found in violation of yo' vow of loyalty t' de Five Oaths. Quintus: gross negligence of de Cove Mise. Quartus: defamation of de Unified Guild. Et Primus: involuntary manslaughter fo' de death of Etienne Marceaux."

Rogue reminded the group, "The first two of these violations is punishable by exile. The last, by execution. Defend yerself and assert why we should show mercy."

"As I have previously stated," Toussaint locked his jaw and sneered at Rogue, causing Remy to raise a brow at the man's insubordination. "It was not my intention t' defame de Guild's reputation. Nor did I know a mistake would inadvertently cause Etienne harm."

Remy was quick to counter, "And yet that 'mistake', as y' put it, only would have been made by an apprentice awaitin' de Tillin'. Even a novice thief would've known better."

"Oui, mais that's de nature of a mistake. An error in action." Toussaint directed his emphasized plea at Remy.

Suspecting he might go down this route, Rogue had come prepared with the rest of the definition. "Ah think yer forgettin' the part 'bout how that error is caused by insufficient knowledge, poor reasoning, or carelessness."

"So which of those three was it, Toussaint?" Remy questioned. "Did you, as a master thief, fail t' properly surveil de mark et speak? Or were y' so grossly incompetent that y' never should've attained de rank of master in de first place? Or maybe y' were just sloppy after gettin' assigned a menial whip off?"

"Je ne sais pas, guildmaster," Toussaint smarted off. Out of spite, he purposefully used the generic title. "Why don't y' tell me?"

His eyes darted to Rogue and lingered just long enough to get his point across. Then he conceitedly glanced back to Remy. The layout of the table ensured no one saw the gesture except for the two guildmasters, Jean-Luc, and Marius. To the rest of the council, it would appear as if Toussaint was just being insubordinate. But to them, the challenge had been issued.

Without uttering a word, Toussaint had managed to turn Remy's line of questioning against him. How could Remy, as a master thief, not realize his bride wasn't Bella Donna, the woman he'd been very intimate with for years? Was he just as grossly incompetent or plain sloppy?

Rogue's body stiffened at the unspoken accusation, but she refused to acknowledge her adoptive father. Even in his darkened seat, she could feel his devious smirk. This spectacle was playing out exactly how he wanted.

If they ruled against Toussaint, then Remy was as equally guilty. If they spared Toussaint to prevent Remy from being accused of the same crime, they set the example that such behavior would be tolerated. Then of course there was Marius' whole ridiculous demand from before the Invalidation started. No matter which path they chose, there would be no walking away from this without blood on their hands.

Next to her, rage roiled through Remy. It took all his self-control not to charge the maul his hand still rested on. All the same, a familiar magenta glow faintly outlined the edges. Realizing the danger they all were in if Remy unleashed his fury, Rogue rested her hand on his thigh in a soothing gesture. She held her breath as she hoped he would take the comfort she offered. The seconds ticked by as the two men stared each other down, as if no one else was in the room. Rogue could feel the tension in Remy's body, the steel of his muscles beneath his skin. From the corner of her eye, she saw his jaw flex and relax as he ground his teeth.

Realizing she needed to do something to redirect his attention, she gently squeezed his leg before letting it slip away. With her decision made, Rogue refused to look at Marius as she dropped her hand to her waist and slipped her thumb through the familiar ring of her karambit. Taking a deep breath, she quickly tore the blade from its sheath, brought her right hand up high over her left shoulder, and swiftly plunged the claw like blade into her intended target.

The council gasped in shock before stunned silence painfully echoed through the room.

Slowly, Remy turned to look at her. Utter disbelief left his jaw slack and his eyes wide, but Rogue couldn't bear to see the horror painted across his pale, blood-drained face. Instead, her gaze zeroed in on the knife: her fist still clenched around the handle, the blade buried deep. Never before had she hit a mark so true. The deadly move was perfectly centered between Remy's hand on the maul and the balancing scales.

When she was sure she could speak without trembling, Rogue's voice boomed across the acoustics. "The Duumvirate calls for the council ta cast its vote!"

Finally, she slid her hand off the handle but left the knife imbedded in the table.

Regaining his composure, Remy cast the first vote as Duumvirate. "Guilty."

Rogue reached out and carefully picked up one of the weights to set it on the right scale. Her eyes never strayed from the task set before her, even though she felt the burning gaze of three men: Remy, Jean-Luc, and Marius.

Continuing in the same order as the roll call, Jean-Luc was the next to vote. After a long pause, during which he leveled his stony glare on Rogue, he finally declared, "Guilty."

Next in succession was Marius. But when he made no move to speak, the council's attention rivetted on him. With no option to keep the votes going, Rogue finally turned to face him. An evil glint sparkled in his eye and a sardonic smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his face remained otherwise impassive. Her pulse pounded in her neck. One…two…three thumps painfully beat out their rhythm.

Still, she fought to remain composed under the pressure as Marius at last answered, "Guilty."

Rather than give her adoptive father his victory, Rogue nonchalantly added another weight to the right side of the scale. She knew the word was spoken as much for Toussaint as it was for her. She'd had the perfect opportunity to enact Marius's revenge and squandered it by jabbing the knife into the table instead of Remy's chest. The details of her punishment remained to be seen.

Thankfully, Belize Marceaux broke the tension in the room when his voice rang out a clear, 'Guilty!'

And so the voting resumed. Surprisingly, Emil voted 'innocent', as did two of the other Thieves' Ministers. In almost perfect opposition, the Assassins' Enforcers counterbalanced the scale, including a 'guilty' vote from Gris Gris.

As Rogue placed the last weight on the scale, the balance swayed and tilted before dropping down to the guilty side. The verdict was clear; however with so many innocent votes, the sentence would be exile instead of execution.

"Vincens Toussaint," She stated, "the Duumvirate and Council find ya guilty. Do ya have any last words before yer exile is enforced?"

"Oui," He sneered at Rogue. To the rest of the council, it looked like he was directing his response at both of them. "C'est sur ta tête."

Remy's response was immediate and swift. Jumping up, he leaned over the table and shouted, "Ta gueule! Get him out of my sight before de sentence is execution!"

He hefted the maul like a baseball, that familiar magenta glow burning brighter than the spotlights. Gris Gris and Emil rushed forward, each grabbing an arm to restrain Toussaint. The exiled man violently objected, struggling with the two guards as they dragged him kicking and screaming obscenities out of the room. It was only when the council chamber doors closed and Toussaint's shouts faded away that Remy removed the charge from the maul and sank back into his seat.

He kept his back straight, but a deep breath served to purge some of the rage out of his system. After the stunt with the knife, he wasn't completely confident of Rogue's allegiance. Nevertheless, she was his wife and he would defend her until his end, whatever brought it about. The weight of the council suddenly pressed down around his shoulders like a physical weight.

Needing to get away from the prying eyes as soon as possible, he said, "De Duumvirate terminates this Invalidation."

The bright spotlight over his and Rogue's chair darkened, throwing them into pitch black. Remy quickly stood, not waiting for his wife before marching to the antechamber. He had to put distance between himself and the oppressive burden of leading the Unified Guild.

Back at their seat, Rogue sighed as she watched Remy's hasty retreat. The lesser Ministers and Enforcers had started breaking up as soon as the ceremony was over, but Jean-Luc and Marius remained rooted in their seats. The former was deep in thought, no doubt trying to piece together the events he had just witnessed. The latter hadn't moved a muscle since declaring his 'guilty' vote. All the same, Rogue wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to her. Besides, it wasn't like he could see her once the spotlight went out. As she stood to follow Remy, she completely missed the slight nod Marius gave to Gris Gris, who had returned after handing his prisoner over to the exilers.

Once she stepped into the antechamber, she was surprised to see Remy pacing like a caged animal. He ran his hands through his hair, never stopping his back and forth prowl. Rogue waited a moment before realizing he hadn't even noticed she entered the room.

Taking a step forward, she softly said, "Remy," but he violently turned on her as he choked out, "Arrêtez!"

In two quick strides, he was standing before her as he scathingly asked, "Is that what y' and yo' cher père were talkin' 'bout earlier?"

Rogue held her breath for a second before dipping her chin down once in affirmation, her gaze never wavering from his. There was no sense in lying to him now.

Remy swore under his breath before rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Was that always de plan? Or did y' think 'bout takin' me out instead?"

He couldn't bring himself to use the words that would accuse her of murder, but he also wasn't naïve enough to think that the rival family of assassins wasn't planning his demise. The tension coiled in his shoulders, knotting his muscles up in dreaded anticipation. His eyes darted back and forth across her face, looking for the crack in the veneer that would give her away.

For her part, Rogue lost herself in her thoughts for a moment as she imagined the answer to his question. Had she thought about taking him out? About sliding the blade neatly between his ribs and piercing the point through his heart? How the blood would trickle out at first until she twisted the handle to make the damage irreversible. Feel the hot, liquid warmth of the sticky arterial blood gush over her hands and between her fingers. Watch the light dim from his eyes as the last look on his face was one of betrayal.

Yes. Yes, she had.

And even imagining it, she felt so sick to her stomach that she could barely control her expression to calmly and quietly tell him, "No."

There was no sense in telling him anything otherwise. No matter what Marius commanded her, she wasn't going to kill the love of her life. Because that's exactly what Remy was, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with and would gladly give her own life for his.

Remy continued to search her features before he finally gave in and exhaled the breath he'd been holding. Wrapping her up in his arms, he held her close as he planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Dieu, chère, y' 'bout near gave me a heart attack." He whispered into her hair.

Rogue simply wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest, taking the comfort he was willing to give.

"Ah told ya Ah love ya, Remy." She answered. There was no admonishment in her tone. Only a statement of fact.

The guilt of not trusting her, not believing her, started to weigh on him. Rogue wasn't the enemy. Marius was. And the former assassin patriarch was pressuring his adopted daughter to fulfill his sick revenge plot. Well, Remy wasn't going to stand for it anymore. They'd face this common evil together and come out stronger in the end.

"Tell me everytin', ma chérie." He coaxed, never letting her out of his embrace.

But Rogue shook her head. "Not here."

For a moment, he thought about demanding an answer. The antechamber was private and sealed off, for their use only. Except he remembered how easily Theoren and Marius had infiltrated what should have been an unknown, nonexistent room.

Nodding, Remy pulled away just enough to tilt her chin up and press his mouth against hers. His eyes closed and he just lingered in the feel of her soft lips moving against his. Reluctantly breaking away, he guided her back to the interior parking garage and over to their armored SUV. Helping her into her seat, he quickly jogged around to the driver's side and hopped in. Grabbing her left hand in his right, he needed the physical connection to her. Remy gave her a little squeeze before navigating them out of the Unified Guild headquarters and back toward home.

(X)

Mercurial – (Canting) modification of Son of Mercury, which is a quick-witted thief. In relation to Mercury, the god of thieves, a Son of Mercury would be the eloquent, fleet-footed messenger of the guild.

Cove Mise – (Canting) cove means master, particularly of a trade and mise means an agreement or deal. In this case, the Cove Mise would be the Master's (Thief) Agreement. As far as I know, Marvel hasn't listed anything other than the Tilling for a thief's training.

sale pute – filthy whore

Je ne sais pas – I don't know.

C'est sur ta tête – It's on your head