Title: Wounded Wings of Hope (Sequel to Hope)
Author: © Renee Reel (Kymaerah@yahoo.com)
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG so far
Comic or Movie-Verse: Movie
Brief description: What Logan finds after leaving the mansion is not exactly what he expected.
Feedback: Surely!
Archive: Hey, if you want it cool! Just let me know! The series can be found at fanfiction.net as well (I write under the name Erisyn there. =) )
Thanks: To Hugh's excellent portrayal of Wolverine that inspired me to write again. And to Mandy who always encourages me. =O) (And also helped me with the groovy title!)
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Logan stared at the mutant before him. Was she lying? What reason would she have to do that? Why lie and tell him that she too had been tortured. The claws that had popped out at her taunting now sheathed themselves and he stretched his fingers, willing some warmth back into them.
"You know me? You know what happened to me here? How did you know I'd be here?" his questions were fast, furious, determined. Kymaerah frowned as she came forward, her dress skimming the ground. Logan hadn't even noticed that she wore clothes that were nearly threadbare, but she had not expected him to. The Professor had told her he was a bit rough around the edges. But she had already known that. She had known him before . . . long before any of this had ever happened.
"I didn't know." she answered as she took a seat on a rather large boulder. She looked up at him, her brilliant green eyes boring into his. Familiar. Her voice, her eyes . . . everything about her was familiar. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring up an image of her before now. He could not remember seeing her in this laboratory. Another scowl crossed his lips, anger at the people who had done this to him surfacing again. "So much happened to all of us here. There were many mutants, not only you and I, but scores of others who were given much worse gifts than the ones you and I were blessed with." Logan looked up suddenly from the spot he had been eagerly perusing during her words.
"I don't see anything wrong with you. You don't have an adamantium skeleton do you? You don't share these?" He raised his hands, cursing himself for the fact that his question had sounded almost hopeful, but to have someone who shared something with him would be a new experience. Kymaerah heard the hope in his voice and she frowned again, her eyes leaving his.
"No. I do not share your *gift*." she answered sadly. Logan opened his mouth to ask what they had done to her when he saw her face contort in pain. The cloak she wore was torn away as her wings spread open. The pain was so excruciating she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from flowing down her face. Logan stared openmouthed for a moment. A woman with wings. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting. The wings shone like stars, the gray feathers seemed almost silver in the early morning sunlight. "They gave me wings, but I cannot fly. How horrible is that?" she said and dared to look at him again. His face was shocked and she didn't blame him. Who had ever seen a woman with wings before?
"W . . ." he began, but his voice failed him for a moment. "Why wings? Why can't you fly?" questions again.
Kymaerah shrugged slightly, her wings moving with her shoulders. "They wanted to train me for surveillance. To teach me to fly over villages and cities and report back to them with what I'd seen. I can not fly now because I decided against helping them. They gave me an assignment to fly over a small village in my homeland; they wanted to know the best place to bomb. I refused to tell them, and so they clipped my wings. I can no longer fly. But enough of my story." she said and looked at him again. "You wanted to know of what happened to you. Why they did this to you? Who it was, I assume, so you can seek your revenge?" she questioned. Logan grunted his assent.
"Of course. Those bastards deserve a little vengeance." he snarled. Kymaerah nodded in accordance.
"Well what first? Shall I tell you who they were? Or shall I start with how you got here?" she questioned as her wings settled into a more comfortable position close to her body. Logan watched with fascination. This creature, this woman, seemed so vulnerable and yet, he knew somehow that there was something in her that made her more dangerous than he could ever be.
"Why did they bring me here?" he questioned simply, unable to start anywhere else.
"You know the answer to that Logan." Kymaerah answered shortly, barely before he had finished speaking. "They were manufacturing killing machines from mutants with regenerative abilities. I have a limited amount . . . nowhere near as powerful as yours are." Jealousy rippled through her. Perhaps if hers were more developed it would not hurt to move the damned wings that they had surgically grafted to her shoulder blades. She sighed.
Logan watched the winged girl with wonder. "I'm sorry," he said simply as he turned away from her. He was unsure of why he was apologizing, but it felt right. Kymaerah let her eyes drift over his back and she nodded.
"I know." she said softly and examined her fingers again before continuing. "I guess I'll start from the beginning ... that would be the easiest, yes?" she questioned but did not wait for his answer to continue. It was going to be a long day, and she had a story to tell . . . one that would not easily be devoured by the man before her. It would test not only her spirit, but his as well. He would need all the strength he had to face it. She took a deep breath, and continued . . .
"Well, first things first. I knew you before this place." She said as she gestured at the ruins and then looked up at him, seeing shock in his eyes. "We hadn't known each other long, mind you. I . . . " she smiled slightly, remembering how they had first met. It wasn't funny, of course, but they had become sort of fast friends afterwards. "I hit you with my car." She said and looked up at the sudden grunt that he made.
"You hit me with your car? That's how we met?" he grumbled, disbelieving. Kymaerah smiled again and nodded.
"My fiancé had just found out about my mutation." She said, her smile fading as she remembered that night. "I was driving home, crying, after he had told me that he never wanted to see me again. You were crossing the road and I didn't see you. I was devastated that I had done something so horrible, but when I stopped the car and climbed out to see if you were all right, you were already on your feet. The cuts on your face healed rather too rapidly for you to be human." Logan nodded, not remembering, but imagining what their initial meeting might have been like.
"You were so angry!" Kymaerah exclaimed, becoming rather animated in her discussion of her memories. It was then that Logan realized how truly beautiful she was. What really made her lovely was that she didn't know she was gorgeous. Her voice was husky and thick like honey. Logan found himself imagining that he could listen to that voice all day, all night. As long as she kept talking the world could crumble around them. "I apologized and I told you I'd pay for whatever hospital bills there were, and of course, you laughed." She said with another smile. "I'm not exactly sure what happened thereafter . . . I just know that we ended up becoming friends . . . I think perhaps we had dinner a few times, you, me, and your fiancee." Logan looked up; his heart pounding painfully loud in his head . . . it seemed his blood was rushing through him, a roaring sound in his ears.
"My fiancee? You're sure you're not mistaken there?" he questioned, his hazel eyes worried. His fiancee . . . he was to be married? And yet he didn't remember a fiancee, hell – he remembered nothing from his former life, not even his mother and father's name. He scowled and his desire for revenge grew even stronger. Those that had done this to him, to her . . . they would pay.
To Be Continued (will try to get out next installment as fast as I can!)
Author: © Renee Reel (Kymaerah@yahoo.com)
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG so far
Comic or Movie-Verse: Movie
Brief description: What Logan finds after leaving the mansion is not exactly what he expected.
Feedback: Surely!
Archive: Hey, if you want it cool! Just let me know! The series can be found at fanfiction.net as well (I write under the name Erisyn there. =) )
Thanks: To Hugh's excellent portrayal of Wolverine that inspired me to write again. And to Mandy who always encourages me. =O) (And also helped me with the groovy title!)
%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*
Logan stared at the mutant before him. Was she lying? What reason would she have to do that? Why lie and tell him that she too had been tortured. The claws that had popped out at her taunting now sheathed themselves and he stretched his fingers, willing some warmth back into them.
"You know me? You know what happened to me here? How did you know I'd be here?" his questions were fast, furious, determined. Kymaerah frowned as she came forward, her dress skimming the ground. Logan hadn't even noticed that she wore clothes that were nearly threadbare, but she had not expected him to. The Professor had told her he was a bit rough around the edges. But she had already known that. She had known him before . . . long before any of this had ever happened.
"I didn't know." she answered as she took a seat on a rather large boulder. She looked up at him, her brilliant green eyes boring into his. Familiar. Her voice, her eyes . . . everything about her was familiar. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring up an image of her before now. He could not remember seeing her in this laboratory. Another scowl crossed his lips, anger at the people who had done this to him surfacing again. "So much happened to all of us here. There were many mutants, not only you and I, but scores of others who were given much worse gifts than the ones you and I were blessed with." Logan looked up suddenly from the spot he had been eagerly perusing during her words.
"I don't see anything wrong with you. You don't have an adamantium skeleton do you? You don't share these?" He raised his hands, cursing himself for the fact that his question had sounded almost hopeful, but to have someone who shared something with him would be a new experience. Kymaerah heard the hope in his voice and she frowned again, her eyes leaving his.
"No. I do not share your *gift*." she answered sadly. Logan opened his mouth to ask what they had done to her when he saw her face contort in pain. The cloak she wore was torn away as her wings spread open. The pain was so excruciating she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from flowing down her face. Logan stared openmouthed for a moment. A woman with wings. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting. The wings shone like stars, the gray feathers seemed almost silver in the early morning sunlight. "They gave me wings, but I cannot fly. How horrible is that?" she said and dared to look at him again. His face was shocked and she didn't blame him. Who had ever seen a woman with wings before?
"W . . ." he began, but his voice failed him for a moment. "Why wings? Why can't you fly?" questions again.
Kymaerah shrugged slightly, her wings moving with her shoulders. "They wanted to train me for surveillance. To teach me to fly over villages and cities and report back to them with what I'd seen. I can not fly now because I decided against helping them. They gave me an assignment to fly over a small village in my homeland; they wanted to know the best place to bomb. I refused to tell them, and so they clipped my wings. I can no longer fly. But enough of my story." she said and looked at him again. "You wanted to know of what happened to you. Why they did this to you? Who it was, I assume, so you can seek your revenge?" she questioned. Logan grunted his assent.
"Of course. Those bastards deserve a little vengeance." he snarled. Kymaerah nodded in accordance.
"Well what first? Shall I tell you who they were? Or shall I start with how you got here?" she questioned as her wings settled into a more comfortable position close to her body. Logan watched with fascination. This creature, this woman, seemed so vulnerable and yet, he knew somehow that there was something in her that made her more dangerous than he could ever be.
"Why did they bring me here?" he questioned simply, unable to start anywhere else.
"You know the answer to that Logan." Kymaerah answered shortly, barely before he had finished speaking. "They were manufacturing killing machines from mutants with regenerative abilities. I have a limited amount . . . nowhere near as powerful as yours are." Jealousy rippled through her. Perhaps if hers were more developed it would not hurt to move the damned wings that they had surgically grafted to her shoulder blades. She sighed.
Logan watched the winged girl with wonder. "I'm sorry," he said simply as he turned away from her. He was unsure of why he was apologizing, but it felt right. Kymaerah let her eyes drift over his back and she nodded.
"I know." she said softly and examined her fingers again before continuing. "I guess I'll start from the beginning ... that would be the easiest, yes?" she questioned but did not wait for his answer to continue. It was going to be a long day, and she had a story to tell . . . one that would not easily be devoured by the man before her. It would test not only her spirit, but his as well. He would need all the strength he had to face it. She took a deep breath, and continued . . .
"Well, first things first. I knew you before this place." She said as she gestured at the ruins and then looked up at him, seeing shock in his eyes. "We hadn't known each other long, mind you. I . . . " she smiled slightly, remembering how they had first met. It wasn't funny, of course, but they had become sort of fast friends afterwards. "I hit you with my car." She said and looked up at the sudden grunt that he made.
"You hit me with your car? That's how we met?" he grumbled, disbelieving. Kymaerah smiled again and nodded.
"My fiancé had just found out about my mutation." She said, her smile fading as she remembered that night. "I was driving home, crying, after he had told me that he never wanted to see me again. You were crossing the road and I didn't see you. I was devastated that I had done something so horrible, but when I stopped the car and climbed out to see if you were all right, you were already on your feet. The cuts on your face healed rather too rapidly for you to be human." Logan nodded, not remembering, but imagining what their initial meeting might have been like.
"You were so angry!" Kymaerah exclaimed, becoming rather animated in her discussion of her memories. It was then that Logan realized how truly beautiful she was. What really made her lovely was that she didn't know she was gorgeous. Her voice was husky and thick like honey. Logan found himself imagining that he could listen to that voice all day, all night. As long as she kept talking the world could crumble around them. "I apologized and I told you I'd pay for whatever hospital bills there were, and of course, you laughed." She said with another smile. "I'm not exactly sure what happened thereafter . . . I just know that we ended up becoming friends . . . I think perhaps we had dinner a few times, you, me, and your fiancee." Logan looked up; his heart pounding painfully loud in his head . . . it seemed his blood was rushing through him, a roaring sound in his ears.
"My fiancee? You're sure you're not mistaken there?" he questioned, his hazel eyes worried. His fiancee . . . he was to be married? And yet he didn't remember a fiancee, hell – he remembered nothing from his former life, not even his mother and father's name. He scowled and his desire for revenge grew even stronger. Those that had done this to him, to her . . . they would pay.
To Be Continued (will try to get out next installment as fast as I can!)