Authors Note: Once again thanks to everyone who reviewed. I had meant for
this chapter to have more Elf/Rogue action, but would you believe that once
Storm and Xavier got a bit of the limelight, they just wouldn't stop
talking! Sheesh! Anyway, more Kurt/Rogue later, I promise!
The door to the office stood slightly ajar. Ororo noticed it as she walked down the dimly lit corridor, skirt swishing at her ankles. In her arms she bore a loaded tea tray, fresh from the kitchen, a slim ribbon of steam emitting from the china spout. She halted outside the door.
"Charles?" she called softly.
"Ah, Storm, please come in."
The silver haired woman pushed the door open and entered the room.
It was dark, she noticed. The heavy drapes were pulled back from the curtains, the tall windows staring out onto the black night, a milky moon hanging low on the horizon. However, there was a blazing fire in the grate, and the Professor sat in his wheelchair close by. Ororo placed the tray on the desk and silently poured two cups of tea - one white and sugarless, one black and sweet. She handed the man his tea and, after closing the door, pulled an armchair closer to the fire and seated herself.
Charles stared thoughtfully down at his cup for a moment. "Where are the students?" he asked quietly.
"Hank volunteered to take charge of an evening Danger Room session."
He smiled faintly "He seems to be settling in quite nicely - the students respond well to him."
"Yes. He has become a valuable member of the team, and we are all glad to have him here." Orora agreed, stirring her tea with a slender spoon. "But somehow, I get the feeling that you did not ask me here to discuss Hank's progress."
The telepath glanced up at her in surprise. After a beat, he steepled his fingers under his chin and sighed heavily. "You know me too well, old friend," he said with a trace of amusement.
She regarded him warmly. "We have been friends a long time, you and I. I can tell when something troubles you."
His brown eyes closed briefly. "I am afraid you find me deeply troubled this evening. I am in need of your counsel."
Ororo sat motionless in her chair, so solemn and glacially beautiful in the firelight, it was not hard to see why she had been worshiped as a goddess. "You know that I am always here to aid you in anyway that I can, Charles" she told him softly.
"Yes, I know."
A meditative quiet fell upon them. In the darkened study, remote from the rest of the Institute, it seemed as though the silence was absolute. The dancing shadows drew darkly around them like a subtle curtain.
The man stirred in his chair. "I had a visit from Mystique this afternoon."
Ororo seemed startled by the information. "Mystique? Here?"
He nodded mutely. "Yes. I allowed her inside the grounds."
"But why?"
Charles frowned, eyes focused into the burning grate. "I will turn no mutant away if their intentions are peaceful. That was the purpose of this Institute. That's why I'm here."
Ororo arched a silver eyebrow. "You'll forgive me, but Mystique's intentions are never peaceful."
"We don't know that."
She considered him scornfully. "Don't we? Charles, you are a man that I both care for and respect, but you are often blinded by your good intentions. I fear that people like Mystique will take advantage of your better nature."
He sighed heavily, shaking his head in a look of weary resignation. "I cannot simply choose to help those who fit our idea of 'good'. Its is most often those mutants who use their powers for destruction who are in the most need of our aid." The Professor looked to his companion, his face glowing gold in the firelight. "Mystique is a guarded and deceitful individual, and I trust her no more than you do. But I sense that she has been ill treated by many in her lifetime. It may be that she is every bit a victim as the children within this Institute - maybe even more so."
"And you just can't turn away a person in need?"
Charles watched her gravely. "Exactly."
Ororo's eyes were suddenly sad. She knew that he was right, of course. If she didn't believe in his principles, she wouldn't have been working together with him. To build a brighter tomorrow---how clichéd it sounded, but that was what she had devoted her life to. And she had Charles to thank for that. He had given her a purpose, a direction in existence. Over the years, she had learnt to trust in his judgment.
But Mystique? Ororo didn't believe in truly evil individuals, but Mystique came as close as was humanly possible. She would never question Xavier's reasoning in front of the students, but in this case, she feared that they would never see eye to eye. Mystique had deceived them on many occasions and, in Ororo's mind, there was no reason to think that was not happening now.
She folded her hands elegantly on her crossed legs. "Did she give any reason for this visit? I doubt that she simply popped in for tea and scones."
Charles leaned back in his wheelchair, resting his head back slightly. He suddenly looked old. It startled Ororo to see him this way. He was guarded about revealing his age, but his unwavering optimism had always, it had seemed in her eyes, to give him a kind of timeless quality. But there were times, Ororo knew, when the heavy responsibility that he had undertaken seemed to weigh painfully down on him.
"Mystique told me something today," he started slowly, "And I am uncertain as to how to act on it. It involves Kurt."
"Kurt?" The weather goddess frowned. She was aware of Mystiques relationship with the boy.
Charles nodded gravely. "Yes, I am afraid so." He rested his chin against a fist. "She confirmed that she is, in fact, his biological mother."
Ororo touched her hair thoughtfully, her frown deepening across her milky coffee brow. "But we suspected as much from the beginning, why does it concern you now?"
"That is not all that she disclosed, and I'm afraid this information involves more than just Nightcrawler." Charles closed his eyes for a moment, turning the memory of Mystique's visit over in his mind. Had it only been an hour since she walked from this room? Somehow, it seemed longer. He inhaled deeply and looked over to his friend. "If we are to believe what Mystique told me, then it would appear that she has had more children than simply Kurt. It would seem that she also has a daughter."
There was a stunned silence from the silver haired woman. She looked at him in disbelief, the news sinking in slowly.
"A daughter?" she whispered, aghast.
Charles watched her closely, his dark eyes intent on her face. "There is more, but what I am to tell you is in strictest confidence. Understand Ororo, that the nature of this information is of a most delicate nature. It must not leave this room."
She nodded mutely, knowing the seriousness of the implications.
The telepath paused for a moment and turned to look at the fire. There was a sharp crackle as the wood splintered in the intense heat, glowing sparks drifting on hot current of air before fading to ash. His eyes fell under a shadow as he lowered his head.
"It's Rogue."
Ororo's white eyebrows pulled together in a look of uncertainty for a moment, not understanding. Slowly, she seemed to realise what he had said. A look of astonishment crossed her features as the truth dawned, blue eyes widening in shock. "Rogue?" she gasped, "Rogue is Mystique's daughter?"
Charles didn't look up, but continued to stare into the flames. "So it would seem."
"But how can that be?"
He did not answer.
The woman looked down at the ground, still reeling. Few things surprised Ororo Monroe, but right now she seemed to be at a total loss. She rested a hand against her chest. Beneath the shirt, her heartbeat thudded dully against her ribs.
"Then Kurt and Rogue are brother and sister," she murmured in disbelief, "I can't believe it."
"There is no proof of that," Charles pointed out. "While Kurt is biologically Mystique's son, there is no conclusive evidence that Rogue is related to either of them."
Ororo blinked. "But you said-"
"What I mean, is that although Mystique considers Rogue her daughter, it has not yet been proven that they are in anyway blood-related. Perhaps she sees herself as a foster mother, or an adoptive parent. There are many ways to define the parent/child relationship."
The weather goddess considered this thoughtfully for a moment. A moment of silence passed between them as they each meditated on the revelations. Not only was Mystique a mother, but she was the mother of Rogue, as well as Kurt. But there were so many gaps in the facts that the information left more questions than answers. Was Rogue biologically related to Kurt? Who were the fathers in both cases? If she was their mother, than why did she abandon her children? And why had she revealed any of this to Charles?
Ororo picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, frowning. "Will you be discussing these matters with Kurt and Rogue?" she asked quietly, not looking up.
Charles continued to stare into the fire. "That is why I required your advice. I am uncertain as to the best course of action."
"What are your own thoughts?"
"That it ought not to be attempted. Kurt and Rogue are both at critical points in their lives, not only as X Men, but as teenagers. They have each had to deal with more than their fair share of troubles - would it be fair to expect them to deal with something of this magnitude?" He sighed. "Rogue has had a hard year. Discovering her mutanagenic gift was a terrible blow for her, I fear, and then finding out that Mystique was her enemy.truth be told, old friend, I am not certain that she has the strength to have to deal with another setback. And as for Kurt? I sense that his need to know of his past consumes much of his darker inner self. Despite outer appearances, he is not as confident as he would like to appear. How would it affect him if Rogue were to reject him, the way that Mystique has?"
Ororo watched him over the rim of her teacup. "It sounds to me as if you have already made up your mind."
He tried to smile, but found that he could not. "I suppose I have. But I would appreciate your viewpoint."
She paused, blue eyes cast down. "They are more resilient than you think," she said after a beat.
"I only want to protect them."
"And this way will protect them," she told him quietly "But Charles, they don't need protecting. You have taught them independence, and love, and trust. There is no more that you can do. When do you judge them to be ready to receive such information? Will they ever be ready? And if they do, what will they think of us who kept the truth from them?" The firelight danced across her smooth skin, white hair glowing against the darkness. "Do you really want them to miss out on the chance to be together? Rogue and Kurt, they have no real family. But maybe, together, they could regain something that has been taken away from them."
"But what if you are wrong?"
Ororo was as solemn and immovable as if she were rendered in marble. "And what if I'm right? There are no certainties in life. All we can do is trust that they will make the correct decisions for themselves."
The telepath studied her closely. "Perhaps."
"What will you do?"
He paused in thought before slowly shaking his head. "For now? Nothing. I appreciate your opinions Ororo, and, truth be told, I agree with you. But we have so little information; it would only raise more questions than answers for them. We can't even be sure that Mystique was telling the truth. Perhaps this is a part of an elaborate scheme. The fact is that we don't know, and I will not risk the safety of my students on the basis of a single conversation. I will tell them the truth, eventually, but I need to know what that truth is myself first."
Ororo raised her eyebrows. "How do you plan to find that out?"
"Try to talk to Mystique some more, I suppose. Perhaps she will consent to a mind probe."
"Doubtful."
Charles shrugged wearily. "Right now, I'm willing to try anything. I am going to discuss this matter with Hank later tonight. If Rogue is Mystique's biological daughter, then she and Kurt will share similar DNA. A simple blood test should reveal the truth. He can perform the procedure tomorrow."
She frowned. "And if Kurt and Rogue are not related?"
"Then that will be one possibility eliminated, and I can focus my search in other directions. I believe that I could hack into the social services computer network quite easily- if Raven Darkholme or one of her other aliases has adopted a child, I'll soon find out."
Ororo sighed sadly, her blue eyes darkening. "You must do what you feel is right, Charles."
They considered each other silently for a moment. Charles sensed her disapproval, but what could he do? He did not enjoy keeping secrets from his students, but in this case, he deemed it necessary.
A chiming from the clock in the corner drew the two mutants from their thoughts.
Ororo stood from her seat, setting her teacup down. "It is getting late. I shall supervise the final groups in the Danger Room - do you want me to send Hank up?"
He frowned. "Hm? Oh, yes, please do."
The silver haired woman paused. Leaning down, she pressed her lips against his smooth forehead in a light kiss. A rare blessing from a goddess.
"Take care, old friend," she murmured as she pulled away.
Charles smiled faintly and rested his hand in hers. Her skin was soft and warm, silky smooth. "Thank you Ororo."
She squeezed his fingers softly between her own, returning the smile. Then, in a breeze of floral scented perfume, she turned and walked out of the room.
The door to the office stood slightly ajar. Ororo noticed it as she walked down the dimly lit corridor, skirt swishing at her ankles. In her arms she bore a loaded tea tray, fresh from the kitchen, a slim ribbon of steam emitting from the china spout. She halted outside the door.
"Charles?" she called softly.
"Ah, Storm, please come in."
The silver haired woman pushed the door open and entered the room.
It was dark, she noticed. The heavy drapes were pulled back from the curtains, the tall windows staring out onto the black night, a milky moon hanging low on the horizon. However, there was a blazing fire in the grate, and the Professor sat in his wheelchair close by. Ororo placed the tray on the desk and silently poured two cups of tea - one white and sugarless, one black and sweet. She handed the man his tea and, after closing the door, pulled an armchair closer to the fire and seated herself.
Charles stared thoughtfully down at his cup for a moment. "Where are the students?" he asked quietly.
"Hank volunteered to take charge of an evening Danger Room session."
He smiled faintly "He seems to be settling in quite nicely - the students respond well to him."
"Yes. He has become a valuable member of the team, and we are all glad to have him here." Orora agreed, stirring her tea with a slender spoon. "But somehow, I get the feeling that you did not ask me here to discuss Hank's progress."
The telepath glanced up at her in surprise. After a beat, he steepled his fingers under his chin and sighed heavily. "You know me too well, old friend," he said with a trace of amusement.
She regarded him warmly. "We have been friends a long time, you and I. I can tell when something troubles you."
His brown eyes closed briefly. "I am afraid you find me deeply troubled this evening. I am in need of your counsel."
Ororo sat motionless in her chair, so solemn and glacially beautiful in the firelight, it was not hard to see why she had been worshiped as a goddess. "You know that I am always here to aid you in anyway that I can, Charles" she told him softly.
"Yes, I know."
A meditative quiet fell upon them. In the darkened study, remote from the rest of the Institute, it seemed as though the silence was absolute. The dancing shadows drew darkly around them like a subtle curtain.
The man stirred in his chair. "I had a visit from Mystique this afternoon."
Ororo seemed startled by the information. "Mystique? Here?"
He nodded mutely. "Yes. I allowed her inside the grounds."
"But why?"
Charles frowned, eyes focused into the burning grate. "I will turn no mutant away if their intentions are peaceful. That was the purpose of this Institute. That's why I'm here."
Ororo arched a silver eyebrow. "You'll forgive me, but Mystique's intentions are never peaceful."
"We don't know that."
She considered him scornfully. "Don't we? Charles, you are a man that I both care for and respect, but you are often blinded by your good intentions. I fear that people like Mystique will take advantage of your better nature."
He sighed heavily, shaking his head in a look of weary resignation. "I cannot simply choose to help those who fit our idea of 'good'. Its is most often those mutants who use their powers for destruction who are in the most need of our aid." The Professor looked to his companion, his face glowing gold in the firelight. "Mystique is a guarded and deceitful individual, and I trust her no more than you do. But I sense that she has been ill treated by many in her lifetime. It may be that she is every bit a victim as the children within this Institute - maybe even more so."
"And you just can't turn away a person in need?"
Charles watched her gravely. "Exactly."
Ororo's eyes were suddenly sad. She knew that he was right, of course. If she didn't believe in his principles, she wouldn't have been working together with him. To build a brighter tomorrow---how clichéd it sounded, but that was what she had devoted her life to. And she had Charles to thank for that. He had given her a purpose, a direction in existence. Over the years, she had learnt to trust in his judgment.
But Mystique? Ororo didn't believe in truly evil individuals, but Mystique came as close as was humanly possible. She would never question Xavier's reasoning in front of the students, but in this case, she feared that they would never see eye to eye. Mystique had deceived them on many occasions and, in Ororo's mind, there was no reason to think that was not happening now.
She folded her hands elegantly on her crossed legs. "Did she give any reason for this visit? I doubt that she simply popped in for tea and scones."
Charles leaned back in his wheelchair, resting his head back slightly. He suddenly looked old. It startled Ororo to see him this way. He was guarded about revealing his age, but his unwavering optimism had always, it had seemed in her eyes, to give him a kind of timeless quality. But there were times, Ororo knew, when the heavy responsibility that he had undertaken seemed to weigh painfully down on him.
"Mystique told me something today," he started slowly, "And I am uncertain as to how to act on it. It involves Kurt."
"Kurt?" The weather goddess frowned. She was aware of Mystiques relationship with the boy.
Charles nodded gravely. "Yes, I am afraid so." He rested his chin against a fist. "She confirmed that she is, in fact, his biological mother."
Ororo touched her hair thoughtfully, her frown deepening across her milky coffee brow. "But we suspected as much from the beginning, why does it concern you now?"
"That is not all that she disclosed, and I'm afraid this information involves more than just Nightcrawler." Charles closed his eyes for a moment, turning the memory of Mystique's visit over in his mind. Had it only been an hour since she walked from this room? Somehow, it seemed longer. He inhaled deeply and looked over to his friend. "If we are to believe what Mystique told me, then it would appear that she has had more children than simply Kurt. It would seem that she also has a daughter."
There was a stunned silence from the silver haired woman. She looked at him in disbelief, the news sinking in slowly.
"A daughter?" she whispered, aghast.
Charles watched her closely, his dark eyes intent on her face. "There is more, but what I am to tell you is in strictest confidence. Understand Ororo, that the nature of this information is of a most delicate nature. It must not leave this room."
She nodded mutely, knowing the seriousness of the implications.
The telepath paused for a moment and turned to look at the fire. There was a sharp crackle as the wood splintered in the intense heat, glowing sparks drifting on hot current of air before fading to ash. His eyes fell under a shadow as he lowered his head.
"It's Rogue."
Ororo's white eyebrows pulled together in a look of uncertainty for a moment, not understanding. Slowly, she seemed to realise what he had said. A look of astonishment crossed her features as the truth dawned, blue eyes widening in shock. "Rogue?" she gasped, "Rogue is Mystique's daughter?"
Charles didn't look up, but continued to stare into the flames. "So it would seem."
"But how can that be?"
He did not answer.
The woman looked down at the ground, still reeling. Few things surprised Ororo Monroe, but right now she seemed to be at a total loss. She rested a hand against her chest. Beneath the shirt, her heartbeat thudded dully against her ribs.
"Then Kurt and Rogue are brother and sister," she murmured in disbelief, "I can't believe it."
"There is no proof of that," Charles pointed out. "While Kurt is biologically Mystique's son, there is no conclusive evidence that Rogue is related to either of them."
Ororo blinked. "But you said-"
"What I mean, is that although Mystique considers Rogue her daughter, it has not yet been proven that they are in anyway blood-related. Perhaps she sees herself as a foster mother, or an adoptive parent. There are many ways to define the parent/child relationship."
The weather goddess considered this thoughtfully for a moment. A moment of silence passed between them as they each meditated on the revelations. Not only was Mystique a mother, but she was the mother of Rogue, as well as Kurt. But there were so many gaps in the facts that the information left more questions than answers. Was Rogue biologically related to Kurt? Who were the fathers in both cases? If she was their mother, than why did she abandon her children? And why had she revealed any of this to Charles?
Ororo picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, frowning. "Will you be discussing these matters with Kurt and Rogue?" she asked quietly, not looking up.
Charles continued to stare into the fire. "That is why I required your advice. I am uncertain as to the best course of action."
"What are your own thoughts?"
"That it ought not to be attempted. Kurt and Rogue are both at critical points in their lives, not only as X Men, but as teenagers. They have each had to deal with more than their fair share of troubles - would it be fair to expect them to deal with something of this magnitude?" He sighed. "Rogue has had a hard year. Discovering her mutanagenic gift was a terrible blow for her, I fear, and then finding out that Mystique was her enemy.truth be told, old friend, I am not certain that she has the strength to have to deal with another setback. And as for Kurt? I sense that his need to know of his past consumes much of his darker inner self. Despite outer appearances, he is not as confident as he would like to appear. How would it affect him if Rogue were to reject him, the way that Mystique has?"
Ororo watched him over the rim of her teacup. "It sounds to me as if you have already made up your mind."
He tried to smile, but found that he could not. "I suppose I have. But I would appreciate your viewpoint."
She paused, blue eyes cast down. "They are more resilient than you think," she said after a beat.
"I only want to protect them."
"And this way will protect them," she told him quietly "But Charles, they don't need protecting. You have taught them independence, and love, and trust. There is no more that you can do. When do you judge them to be ready to receive such information? Will they ever be ready? And if they do, what will they think of us who kept the truth from them?" The firelight danced across her smooth skin, white hair glowing against the darkness. "Do you really want them to miss out on the chance to be together? Rogue and Kurt, they have no real family. But maybe, together, they could regain something that has been taken away from them."
"But what if you are wrong?"
Ororo was as solemn and immovable as if she were rendered in marble. "And what if I'm right? There are no certainties in life. All we can do is trust that they will make the correct decisions for themselves."
The telepath studied her closely. "Perhaps."
"What will you do?"
He paused in thought before slowly shaking his head. "For now? Nothing. I appreciate your opinions Ororo, and, truth be told, I agree with you. But we have so little information; it would only raise more questions than answers for them. We can't even be sure that Mystique was telling the truth. Perhaps this is a part of an elaborate scheme. The fact is that we don't know, and I will not risk the safety of my students on the basis of a single conversation. I will tell them the truth, eventually, but I need to know what that truth is myself first."
Ororo raised her eyebrows. "How do you plan to find that out?"
"Try to talk to Mystique some more, I suppose. Perhaps she will consent to a mind probe."
"Doubtful."
Charles shrugged wearily. "Right now, I'm willing to try anything. I am going to discuss this matter with Hank later tonight. If Rogue is Mystique's biological daughter, then she and Kurt will share similar DNA. A simple blood test should reveal the truth. He can perform the procedure tomorrow."
She frowned. "And if Kurt and Rogue are not related?"
"Then that will be one possibility eliminated, and I can focus my search in other directions. I believe that I could hack into the social services computer network quite easily- if Raven Darkholme or one of her other aliases has adopted a child, I'll soon find out."
Ororo sighed sadly, her blue eyes darkening. "You must do what you feel is right, Charles."
They considered each other silently for a moment. Charles sensed her disapproval, but what could he do? He did not enjoy keeping secrets from his students, but in this case, he deemed it necessary.
A chiming from the clock in the corner drew the two mutants from their thoughts.
Ororo stood from her seat, setting her teacup down. "It is getting late. I shall supervise the final groups in the Danger Room - do you want me to send Hank up?"
He frowned. "Hm? Oh, yes, please do."
The silver haired woman paused. Leaning down, she pressed her lips against his smooth forehead in a light kiss. A rare blessing from a goddess.
"Take care, old friend," she murmured as she pulled away.
Charles smiled faintly and rested his hand in hers. Her skin was soft and warm, silky smooth. "Thank you Ororo."
She squeezed his fingers softly between her own, returning the smile. Then, in a breeze of floral scented perfume, she turned and walked out of the room.