Rumor has It

By Ariesque

Genre: Adventure/Mystery/Romance

Rating: PG--PG-13 for some language

Story Dedication: To Loliatas-Sister for her kindest cooperation on Remy's background and family. From all that I have, thank you.

Author's Notes: To those who don't know Remy's family or past, there have been quite a few characters, but the ones centered in this piece of fiction are: Henri LeBeau, his brother by adoption, Merci his wife, Emil, Etienne, Theo are his cousins, Tante Mattie (I'm not truly sure who she is, but I presume she's some kind of aunt to the guild) Belladonna and her brother Julien are in charge of the Assasins Guild. Please do note: I'm not sure where the two guilds (Thieves and Assassins) are located, but I suppose they are close to each other in area, being that they are rivals.

Chapter Two: Southern Gamble

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Kitty's boots clomped the ground, tired, sullen, anxious.

"Peter!" she called, helplessly. Oh God, what are they going to do when they, like, find out Rogue's gone? "Peter!" her voice rang out a second time. This moment, Piotr appeared, followed closely behind by John wearing a hideous scowl on his face. Seeing her despair, Piotr took up jogging until he was within her distance, where she ran into his awaiting arms. There passed a moment of silence, in which John took the time to notice Rogue was nowhere to be seen. Feeling a surge a panic, he inquired the fear-stricken Kitty of her friend's whereabouts. Kitty looked at him, as though dreading the question.

Then in a shy voice: "I don't know."

In which, John exploded.

"How could you lose her?! She's extremely hard to LOSE!" Piotr nudged him back from attacking the poor girl, but John persisted.

"I, like, didn't lose her, John! Some guys...they just...they, like, kidnapped her." Another moment of silence.

"I can't believe dis!" John cried, angrily. "No, no. I will not take dis lightly! You, love, are lying."

In which Kitty recriminated with, "LYING?! You said so yourself, Rogue is, like, extremely hard to lose! Why under all of God's heaven would I have the desire to, like, lose her?!"

Then Piotr said softly, not to annoy her, but to ease her irritation, "This time, I think I side with John. Not because I don't believe you, but the story itself is unbelieveable." But instead of doing what was formerly said, Kitty's irritation grew along with her unbecoming frown.

"I'm NOT making anything up, Petey! You have to believe me! Why would I lose her? Why would..." Then she broke down into a series of sobs, much to Piotr's mortification. Feeling that her desire to express her misery was because of him, Piotr took to calming her down, while John remained hostile with his unanswered questions looming around the bayou.

"Who did yah see, if yah saw anyone, and being dat yah did, I suppose it wasn't anyone yah knew?" he asked, as Kitty wiped away her tears.

"I can't understand why you don't believe me. Like I said: there was this man, and I saw nobody else. Then when I phased through him, I remembered Rogue but she was nowhere to be, like, found."

"But why would dey kidnap Rogue? Who here would have anything tah do w' my love, if they were tah know her at all?" For a minute he pondered this, never considering his company, who sat like stones wondering what else was there to do but watch the pyro digress.

Then, in a flurry, he snapped his fingers.

"I've got it," he declared, soberly. "If there be anyone who knew Rogue, who had anythin' tah do w' da Sheila, would know exactly who they'd find and figurin' it'd be Rogue, kidnap her." Kitty, who didn't have the slightest idea of what John was talking about, nodded in her confusion, while Piotr, much used to John's blabbering, caught on much more quickly then his mate and said, "So you think the dead has something to do with."

"How else?" John inquired, thoughtfully. "It's perfect. Who could think o' commitin' suicide and returnin' tah kidnap dah one he can't have?" He scowled, angrily, as if seized by a malicious idea.

"Who other," he said, glaring at Piotr, "than Remy LeBeau?"



*1. Henri LeBeau



"Hot murky July," I complained aloud, lazily leanin' back on de porch, w' a sigh o' scorn. "Tante, no disrupting me -- I'm tired," I said t' de woman standin' by de screen door. I knew she nodded, though I didn't see and tried t' fall asleep. But how could I? Those blasted Assassins were up t' their usual ruckus, chantin' their kidnappin' hymn and Merci only know how I -hate- thet song.

But dey doesn't stop.

I drew my hat o'er my face, annoyed. The noise hardly faded.

Turing on my side, I found it only made it worse, and in vain, got t' my feet.

"Tante! I'll be back soon!" I cried, stompin' down t' board my small row boat, gatherin' enough rage t' last me up to the Assassins' Place. Dockin' my watercraft, I decided it'd be best t' cut t' de chase, be it Belladonna or Julien.

But when I followed de path up t' our rivals, I sneaked a peak in de window after hearin' Bella scream, "Y' nitwits! Idiots! Lame brains! How can y' mess dis up? The instructions read Lisa Frillan--a strawberry blonde! If Julien even gets word o' dis...o'... Dieu! Get me a gun; I must do away w' de unfortunate!" Dere seated before Bella was a girl, not any older den I suspect seventeen. She was bound, hands, feet, and mouth while tears welled up in her eyes. I found dis pathetic, and feelin' a bit sorry f' de femme (girl), stepped up t' the door and knocked. Bella answered, and upon seeing me, forced an innocent face.

"Why, mornin' Mista Henri! How y' today?" she asked, sweetly. I frowned, rememberin' my decision t' cut t' de chase.

"I find your noise a bit loud," I told her, flatly. Belladonna turned red, and I could tell she was not pleased.

"Do y' -want- somethin'?" she asked, bitterly. I contained my keen composure, while hers fastly deteriorated.

"Oui (Yes)," I muttered, smugly, takin' a peek in. Dere was the girl, wearin' de most pathetic look I ever saw anyone manage. Belladonna saw me lookin' and quickly blocked my view.

"Mista Henri! Why I never though you'd be so much as rude as t' go an' snoop in people's houses!" she cried, mockingly scolding me. I stood before her, growing exasperated.

"What did she do, Bella, huh? So bad as t' kill her?" Bella burned scarlet w' rage.

"None yur business, Henri," she spat, trying t' close de door on me, but I clogged de gap w' my foot.

"Bella, Bella," I sang, soberly. "I ain't leavin', honey, til I get an' answer." We struggled t' gain ground.

"I'll sic Julien on y'! I swear t' Dieu!" she screamed, but I wouldn't budge.

"Answers, Bella. Y' know better den t' toy w' lives like thet." I scolded.

"I can kill as I please!" she retorted, firmly. I frowned at her conscience.

"Does Julien e'en know y' got dis girl here? Ain't he w' my Pop?" She quit bangin' de door on my foot and scowled angrily at me.

"I'm in charge right now, Henri. Merde, I can do away w' people--an' I'll kill y' if y' don leave!" I held de door w' my hand and gave her a hard look.

"Tell me de truth, Bella, and I won' tell Julien thet y' be foolin' around, messin' up his carpet an' all." She was mute f' a second, ponderin' my compromise.

"My dim-witted men brought back de wrong femme t' assassin." Den, she pointed angrily and continued w', "How can dey not tell de difference between a strawberry blonde an' an auburn?! Putain, are dey color-blind?!" She proceeded t' pull her long curly crown an' advised herself restaint by takin' up a nearby gun and loadin' de encasement.

"So, y' gonna shoot her?" I asked. She sensed my concern and scoffed, haughtily.

"She mean no more t' me den y', so why not?" I shook my head and tsked aloud.

"Aw darlin', have y' no heart?" She found dis statement hilarious, for she laughed whole heartedly in my face.

"Henri dearest, why what whould y' do if y' were in my place?" She asked as if concerned along w' me.

"I'd let her live," I answered, frankly, which roused another high-pitched laugh from the lady.

"Oh would y' now? And run the risk of her rattin' me out?"

"How do y' figure she would?" I asked, triumphantly. Belladonna's sowl drooped, and she glanced at de femme, who had been silent during our conversation. Approachin' her, Bella turned capricious, danglin' de gun clumsily in de femme's face.

"Look 'ere, dearie. I've got a weapon, an' if y' e'en -dare- try t' rat me t' anyone, I'll personally see t' it y' don't live another day because o' it." Seein' de girl's expression turn frightened, Belladonna ripped off de rope tying de femme's hands an' w' satisfaction, whisked de girl t' me.

I looked at Belladonna, not comprehendin'.

"Adieu Henri," she bid me, but I clenched my jaw and rasped thet I didn't understand. She sat down, lightin' herself a cig. "Y' wanted her t' live so now y' get rid o' her. Like I said before--she's o' no concern t' me." She laughed uproariously, as I staggered out w' my new acquired baggage followin' close behind.

2. Piotr Rasputin

Twenty minutes before Katja came bounding to us, John had succeeded in calling me "Tiny" and "Mr. High and Mighty" all in his rage of having argued with Rogue over a delicate matter such as Remy. Then, he sat down, consoling himself by burning branches of all sizes--big ones, small ones, smothering into ashes...

I have seen him angered before, many times accomplishing to burn acres of forests and more than plenty of bridges. It seems as though I am his only friend and confidant--trying as I usually do to understand his many personalities. I hate to admit, but I wonder what the reason was, of Rogue deciding to choose John, when it was apparent Remy wouldn't see his wedding day, but it's not what I should be left to think [Of course, this is also something I hate to admit, but I think Remy didn't want to marry Jean at all. But like I said, it's not of what I think].

I had my doubts since I found him up in Remy's room-- small wonder he be wreaking havoc on the day before the--[ahem]-- almost wedding. Imagine my curiousity aroused at having to find John among the thief's things, taking out his lighter from his back pocket. He backed away and was surprised to find his nose meet my arm. Smugly, he asked if I saw anything.

And what was I supposed to say? No? Of course I told the truth and still was reprimanded for it.

"Yah sawn't tell Rogue!" he warned, angrily. I done nothing tragic--I did not steal anything and I have no desire in killing anyone!" I stood there, nodding.

"I know John," I assured him. "Rogue is not to have any knowledge of this."

"Damn straight,"he muttered curtly. Then his expressions turned pensive and he asked me,"So-- if Remy doesn't marry Jean, do yah think he'd make a good match fer Rogue?"

I glared at his question.

"What answer are you expecting?" I asked, knowing full well his expectations wanted me to say no. He stifled a nervous laugh.

"Petey-- this ain't about me. I just wanta know de truth, 'cause aren't yah a truthful guy?" I wanted to agree, but kept my pride to myself. "Yah wanta know what I think?" he continued, jumping any answer from me, "It's good Remy's taken, else Rogue won't know how well it is w' out him." He smiled, running a keen hand through his thick, tousled hair. "Or how well it is w' me." I looked up, almost startled. I mean, I knew I should have detected John had some plan up his sleeve-- it just wasn't as conspicuous as were his other plans.

"Lemme tell yah somethin'--" he said, patting the chair next to him. He had reason to relax--Remy wasn't due for another half-hour.

"I love Rogue. I don't have to announce it tah yah; yah read me like a book. But she's cooped up w' reveries of Rems, so much dat she don't see da chance she can have w' me." He held up a note; it hung loosely between his fingers. I took it and skimmed through the words. Looking over at him, I narrowed my eyes to apply my opinion.

"Why do you have a letter from Rogue to Remy?" I asked him. His grinned darkened.

"She put it in his trench coat pocket." My scolding mask crept back unto my face.

"John! How can you?" I asked, wondering.

"Guess, when love drives you, you become greedy." He meant to make himself seem the good guy in this, and yet, that was far from possible.

"True love doesn't require falsehoods, John," I argued, but he seemed unruffled at my response.

"No, no Petey. This is different. I -love- Rogue. I'm dis close in claiming her--if only she just realizes who really truly loves her." He took the note back and out came his lighter again. "I have tah take desperate measures," he mumbled, the lighter clicking, "if Rogue should ever care fer me." He tried burning the edge, but I intervened.

"John!" I cried. "This is not playing fair!" But he scoffed at my concern before smiling.

"You're not gettin' where I'm going fer, Petey," he sighed. "It's a matter a power an' luck. Yah know Remy's power, don't cha?"

"Yes," I said, feeling uneasy.

"Well, if I can control fire and make it explode..."

"John!" I exclaimed again, finally getting the picture. "Now that is -really- not fair!" My pyro-esteemed friend was disappointed and didn't mind showing it.

"I can't believe yur takin' -his- side," he spat, irritatingly. "How can yah possbily believe Remy is ideal fer her? When all he does is cozy up, only tah dispose o' her in da end?"

He lit the corner of the note, controling it from burning the whole paper. I watched, helplessly. John noticed and slapped my arm in a friendly manner.

"Lighten up, Piotr. Just think-- Rogue'll finally be loved and Remy''ll learn his lesson." He placed the note back in the pocket and smiled, bitterly.

So, I would like to say John was found out of this personal crime, but indeed, he was not. Remy, needless to say, was framed in front of the dismayed Rogue and the better of all of us--blowing such a sentimental note like it was a regular playing card. John, who had the better of the doubt from the beginning, won the girl.

Of course, this was not the first time he tried to turn Rogue against her crush. Oh yes, there were the roses he gave and later mutilated, hoping she'd suspect and hate Remy for the silly crime. But she turned the tables on him, shrugging it off like spilt milk.

But don't get me wrong, I find John trusting and desiring and passionate about Rogue--it's just how he got her I don't agree with.

I have never told Rogue or anyone else about these events.

So, as John led the way back to the Blackbird, Kitty, hand in mine, told me if there were anyone to blame for Rogue's capture, it'd be John and his quick temper. And although she meant for it to be between us, John had overheard and later asked my opinion of the subject. We were at the X-Men's camp, when John cornered me, and with a stirred soul, said he wouldn't blame me if I placed Rogue's kidnapping over his head.

But as much as I hate his deeds and acts of greed, I cannot heave a dire responsibility when it doesn't belong there. He smirked, a sad smirk of such mystery that I was awed at his softened side. He vowed to never rest until she was found, and held steadfast to his conviction of it being because of Remy. Sighing, he turned to me and said, "I'm afraid I've lost her ferever, Petey. But I'm willin' tah find her--though it'll be hard." I stood like rock, nodding dumbly. But face it or not, he was right.

Because, being in a foreign place such as this, Rogue could be anywhere.

Henri LeBeau's Journal:

I found myself a chance to admire the femme-- she was pale, but grew rosy in the sunlight, lanky legs, delicate structure, bonny face, and brilliant green eyes. Belladonna was true to point out her auburn hair, but Dieu, there laid a white stripe admist the true color. She wore some sort of uniform torn and mounted with an X across her shoulders. I guess she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time--but it's strange, cuz it takes de Assassins a lot to kill or kidnap the wrong person.

I mounted my tiny boat and let her sit across from me. Also, I lent her Merci's lace umbrella [which she never quite really recovered from my boat], for it was a warm day.

I took t' oarin' a good deal, before she surprised me by speaking up. "Where are we goin' sir?"

I was both pleased and taken aback from the abruptness of her question. "Well, I could take y' back t' yur folks..."

"Ah've got none," she replied, sternly. Realizin' her harshness, she softened her tone and mentioned shyly, "Ah'm...lost."

"Lost?" I smiled. "I should've guessed. Do y' belong t' Nawlins?" She shook her head, her face a radiant white. "Lousiana at all?"

"Ah'm...visiting w' a coupla friends."

"In dese marshes? Y' aren't seein' much," I said, and found her eyes sparkling anxiously. We sailed a while, listening to the silence between us until she said, "Yah live here?"

"Why?" I asked, suspiciously.

She drew back, as if she meant nothing by the question. "It's beautiful out here, sir," she complimented. I smiled to show her I still trusted her.

"So, do y' have a name?" I asked, considerably shy. I saw her go red under the umbrella.

"No," she retorted in a jejune voice. Startled, I blinked, seeing her displeasure at my question.

"Well, d' y ' go by somethin'? At all?" I continued. Her cheeks flared.

"Sure Ah do. Rogue. Dat's what everyone calls me."

I wanted to complain that it didn't seem appropriate, but seeing her pale again, I nodded inward my irritation.

"Rogue. Heh, thet's...thet's far from applicable, but I daresay it shall work." I held out my hand for her to shake, but she withdrew slightly, a timid look crossing her pretty face. She seemed terrifed at de sight of my hand, and sensing I musn't frighten her anymore, drew it back.

"Not a shaker, I suppose?" I asked, masking the infernal crashing and burning of my pride, but her smile helped me recover.

We continued our trip in silence, and I bade her come inside, before we determined to find her party. Emil met me at the door and shunned away from the stranger, but I snatched de back of his shirt an' demanded he show her some respect. Grudgingly, he said his manners and ran away with embarrassment and rage as Miss Rogue laughed quietly to herself. She asked if I owned a phone, and I disappointed her by saying we didn't. Seeing her distress, I said, "Well, Miss Rogue, yur welcome t' stay as long as y' want." Her face darkened and I noticed she was holdin' back a weep. "If my name ain't by Dieu Henri LeBeau." She suddenly grasped Merci's umbrella, and I found her rasping, "Did yah say LeBeau? Y' aren't related ta...Remy LeBeau, are ya?"

I smirked. "Sure am, Miss. Why--y' know him?" We heard a clatter from the stairs and as if summoned, my brother came romping down the stairs formidably.

"Henri! Boy, am I glad I found y'! I've actually figured thet if we steal.." He then lifted his head from his plan, and his eyes centered in at Miss Rogue. "Well, what're y' doin' w' de Chere? Aren't y' married already...?" Rogue turned t' him and he stood, amazed and caught up in his own words.

"Rogue?!" he let the word drop from his lips like an anvil. She did the same, only with his name.

There wasn't even a darned silence--Rogue had sprinted, ready to clobber my dirtbag of a brother.

"Yah frickin' bastard! Yur ALIVE!!!" she cried, as Remy raced back upstairs for his life.

"Oh Dieu! Merde, Henri!" he snapped in response. There was a slam of a door, and I heard Rogue screaming, "Come out yah lying dead man! Swamp Rat!" she was rapping with her fists on the door, and hell, I just listened, laughing. Old girlfriend, I easily presumed, climbing the stairs to follow the racket. Rogue had the door against her first, teeth barred and ready to lunge if he dared to open the door. "Dammit Remy! Open the damn door! Yah owe me an explanation NOW!" Her fist clubbed the door and something distinct cracked violently. I realized she'd beat until her knuckles were sore and bloody and didn't hesitate to snatch her from her dangerous plight. She didn't resist me, but cowered from my hands as if they were venomous. I grew agitated and insisted she inform me of her discomfort with my touch, only to receive no particular answer to speculate or ease my impatience.

"Ah'm sorry, Henri. Ah'm...not very good, dealin' with hands," she said, so quietly it seemed as if she were talking to herself. Noticing my harshness over a simple touch, I scolded myself and offered her Etienne's (Dieu rest his soul) room to make up for my nasty tongue. Much to my satisfaction, she agreed, and stayed there until Merci came home. My wife found the matter of Rogue interesting and told me to invite her down for dinner.

But as I was walking up there, I found Remy outside his door, a look of unfufillment settlin' in his eyes. I stopped, but only to smirk at this unbelievably pathetic sight.

"Who is she, Rems?" I found myself asking, curiously. He turned to me and sighed a curse.

"Somebody I knew," he replied simply, flippin' through his card deck. I knew that look--it told his bein' upset. My smirk widened into a smile.

"She's pretty," I put in, as I saw Remy's hand clutch the cards. "Can't see why you left." He threw me one of his infamous, angry glances.

"I wasn't w' her, genius," he spat, as if I reminded him of the hurtful truth. Maybe that's why he's upset, I thought, he can't -have- her. "And I'll be damned if I should."

"Ain't thet a shame," I muttered, sarcastically. But he was so drawn to the imagination of her proximity, he hardly heard.

"Well," I started up again after a long silence. "Why don't you invite her down t' dinner? Laides like thet--I mean, Merci's always flattered when I do..." He gave me a quick look that informed little, but as if on impulse, steadily walked to the room where she was staying. He forced open the door [being that Remy never was the one to knock].

There was a long pause and I wondered how far Remy could take it, before his voice said, "Hey." I peered in, and saw she hadn't turned to him. "You hungry? Merci's put on some gumbo downstairs..." She tensed at his invitation, which made Remy back away a bit. "What's wrong, Cherie?" he asked, suddenly sweet. "You always accepted when I asked you out..." Rethinking his words, he quickly recovered with, "to..food." She murmured something inaudible to Remy's or my ears.

"What was thet?" he asked her quietly.

"Don't call me Cherie." Remy cringed, but didn't run.

"Den what d'ya want me tah call y'?"

"Get out," she sneered.

"Why do y' resist Remy? Nobody ca..."

"Ah -hate- yah!" She turned to him, green eyes ablaze with agitation. Startled, he retreated, closing the door behind him.

Oh Dieu, I sighed, as Remy turned to me, his face darkened from bitterness. He passed without any word, slammin' the door to his room as soon as he got through. Finding nothing more to do, I proceeded downstairs, not wanting my now cold but still awaitng meal.

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* - See Author's Note

Faeryeyes: How in the world were you able to review twice?! Everytime I try, it says "Only one review per chapter". Fanfiction.Net is sick.

Ishandahalf: Hehehe, sorry about the confusion. It says explanation but I'm just making things worse...oh, well. To make the story work...*sighs*

LilSweetCherryBlossom: I agree that it IS boring and I was afraid it didn't flow and you assured that it didn't, so now I'll try to make it flow for now on :)

Rogue Worrior Spirit: My objective completely. It seems when Rogue likes Remy, she needs John, but when she's with John she needs Remy. What could she possibly agree to?

Disturbed Courtney: I'm glad you agree to the POVs, because in this way, you get a clearer view of how John is, Remy was, Rogue could be...Yes, in other words, the truth.

Pyromaniac: So sorry about John. I'll try to be nicer to him, I promise. Thank you for letting me use your story on my site--I'll post it as soon I can:)

Starlightz6: It's either you've read my mind or I'm not being subtle enough with this story. But I also agree with Jubes--you don't center a story invovling an important figure, only to have him die in the first chapter. It's just not right.

Erica: Thank you for loving my stories! Again, I should say you've also managed to read my mind--are you plotting against my storyline? *suspicious glances* To answer your question about John dating Rogue, it's all very explanatory. He loves -her-, and he doesn't want to dump her because then Remy would win her and who wants Remy to win at all? Certainly not John. I also like your alternate ending, but you're forgetting John's still with Rogue and Remy has to get by him to get through to her. All in all, somebody must win, and it takes time to lead up to the finish, as you can see with my slow updates *scowls at myself*

Alecia Moureux: I'm sorry for making you think I'd leave you all in suspense as I've done in the past, so I hope the long chapters make up for it. The POVs are a different approach for me, so I'm glad you like them and for being patient with my slow updates.

Sabby13: Actually, you're right about Rogue's smoking--she does it because she's depressed. Fanfiction.Net is ever so rude in not permitting you to read my story--but I'm glad it finally did.

Fuzzy Elf: Do you think I should send out notices of when my story hits Fanfiction.Net so you don't have to wonder for so long? And about Kitty--I can't stand her -likes-, so I try not to write too many of them in the same chapter because, seriously, they're annoying.

Makura Koneko: Thank you for adding me to your favorite's list! I'll try not to be those procrastinating authors who take forever to update, but I must warn you. I'm taking summer classes now, and when I do write, it's during geometry, since it's so boring to learn during the summer.



Up next: Rogue's POV (sorry I didn't get around to it this time) :P, Prof's, and Remy's.