Misfit- Chapter 10
Disclaimer- Oracles Maiden is shaking her ass wildly to Aerosmith, then she notices the readers Ahhh… Just a sec. Pulls a Pipe from her pocket and Lizzie muse brings her a huge glass of brandy
Lizzie Muse: I thought I was the Princess?
You are. Now scurry along and do my washing. Starts blowing on the pipe and bubbles emerge. Welcome gentle reader to a world where nothing belongs to the author, where the author has power over other's creations; welcome to… raises eyebrow the fan fiction Zone!
Lizzie Muse: Oracle, um I think I put a pair of red knickers in the white wash.
Oracle drops her drink and the bubble pipe starts to stream bubbles a lot faster Run Muse, Run. I'll teach you!
Notes- Never let your Muses do your Laundry! In fact lock them in little cupboards under the stairs for good measure. To the ever supportive Anything but Ordinary3 who may have to lend me a white shirt if I need one. And I'm sure the ncsgirl never has this problem with her muses. To both many thanks and hugs and a simple wish that they could control MY MUSES! Ok this is a little more on the angst side, but it also starts to introduce another little theme; a little romance for a Blue furry dude.
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"Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Lizzie Windsor, she's England's princess"
"When did you hear? About Lizzie Windsor, I mean."
"I was there when it happened."
"Poor Lizzie, her dad's dead and all anyone can talk about is her secret."
"Secret?"
"Doesn't the fact that the King's dead make her Queen though?"
"You're right."
"The Queen of England's a mutant."
"Well who'd have thought it."
"I think you should try to speak to her. She seems to listen to you."
"What can I say that might help her?"
"Just talk, it doesn't matter what you say, just show her a little Human kindness."
Elizabeth sat looking out at the stars. The intricate patterns of glowing spheres hung limp in a blanket of dark blue.
"Every one is a wish of one of our ancestors, Lizzie. They got trapped on their way to god and burst into flames because they couldn't happen. They're the wishes of Kings and Queens to be normal, to be ruled not rulers." Her father had said when she was young. That felt like a million years ago. Now he was up there with his balls of flaming wishes.
She wiped a tear from her cheek, she'd been crying ever since her departure from downstairs, almost two hours previously. In that time the sun had set, and it seemed like an eternity.
Sitting on the window seat of her room with her arms around her knees she rocked, trying to console herself. Her mother had rocked her as a baby, toddler and young child, all the way up until her death, then her father had taken over. Whenever she was distraught he was there holding her, safe and warm and singing a god-awful lullaby. Now he was gone, and she'd never be rocked or hear the lullaby again – and for once she begged god to let her hear it. She wanted it so much she hummed it herself lightly, hoping her father or even her mother would jump in with the words and that all this would turn out to be an awful dream. But the realisation that this was indeed reality just made her cry even more.
"What's the matter?" Came the thick German accent of her friend from behind her, Kurt had teleported through the locked door and had come to rest beside her on the seat. She had her back to him but still she could feel the compassion in his eyes.
"Don't you know?" she said through the tear tracks. She didn't even turn her head.
"I know what happened. I wondered if you wanted to talk?"
"If I wanted to talk I'd be downstairs not up here wouldn't I?" she replied grumpily.
"I'm sorry."
"Everyone is, everyone's sorry." She choked with a bite, "Is anyone anything but sorry at the moment? But which one are you? Sorry for my fathers death, Sorry I didn't get to say goodbye to him, sorry I'm going to become Queen or sorry that you didn't show me the respect deemed worthy of a princess?"
Kurt slumped in shock "Queen?"
He hadn't known, Elizabeth realised, he honestly didn't know.
"No one told you that, huh?" She choked again.
"All I knew was that you had lost your father. That is all Rogue told me."
"Rogue" she smiled sadly, still crying, but her tears fell slower. She hadn't realised that Rogue was in the room, she must have been standing near the back of the crowd. "Rogue told you?"
"Does that matter?"
"I just want to know who hasn't heard the full story yet." She bit again.
"Well I don't and I won't ask you to tell me."
"GOOD." She turned back to the window, watching her own reflection as well as Kurt's in the cool glass. "I'm not going to give anyone anymore gossip about me."
The blue reflection sat for a second, worried about leaving her in that state she was in. she was angry, angry at the world, angry at everything in it.
"Lizzie I…"
"Just go." She instructed.
And in a puff of blue, brimstone smelling smoke he was gone.
"As I lay me down to sleep, I prey the Lord my soul shall keep…" Kurt Kneeled beside her bed, paws grasped in prayer around his rosaries, eyes closed. "If I should die before I wake, I prey the lord my soul shall take." He paused to think without reason; every night his list of blessings remained the same.
"God bless those in this house who need you more than most. Bless those who help those in need and those who uphold the ideals that they practice. Bless these X men and their work…" Kurt then paused again, something else needed to be said but he didn't know quite how to phrase it.
"…And most of all Lord, Protect the Spirit of Elizabeth's father on his voyage to heaven. Make certain he gets his reward. And protect and watch over Elizabeth in her hour of grief, she needs you now lord more than she will admit to or ever know, Please help her. Amen."
He opened his eyes, letting his gaze be drawn to the crucifix above his bed. He contemplated the cross and the man hanging on it, the Christian symbol of devotion and source of comfort, for most but not for all.
"Preying for the peace of my soul?" A sweet voice, tinged with sadness and insecurity, interrupted his solitude.
"No," He breathed, "Your fathers." He slowly rose from his knees, letting his tail move again.
She stood in front of the closed door, wringing her hands guiltily.
"I'm sorry…" She said head down in penance "For what I said, for how I acted… I was…" she let her eyes stray from the floor and find his eyes. Her eyes were a bloodshot pink, tear tracks stained her face, she looked a complete wreck.
"You have no need to apologise. You are upset, your father has just died."
She stepped closer "But you just came to check I was all right. I treated you badly and I shouldn't have."
Again Kurt started "Your father has just died, it is…"
"Murdered." She corrected, "My father has just been murdered."
Kurt clutched his rosaries even tighter "Murdered?" He whispered. She could only nod in recognition.
"That's why I was upset that Rogue had only gotten half the story. If I had been more composed then I would have…"
"I don't understand, how did this happen? WHY did this happen?" Kurt asked directing her to take a seat on his bed.
"The 'How' I can explain in a little detail, I think I know what happened. The 'why' is a bit more complicated, I know in my heart why but I think you're going to have to address half of that question to your man on the cross up there." She sat for a second, as if in deep thought then finally looked up, "It's all a very long story."
Kurt settled down on the floor in front of her crossing his legs, and letting his tail swing back and forth behind him. "I have time."
"Actually you're out of time. I stopped it to get up here." She smiled, before again crumbling to depression.
Kurt checked, the carriage clock on his bedside table said 11:05 and ten seconds; the second hand was frozen in that position.
"Then tell me."
She looked up with a wry smile "I'll show you. Just give me a sec." She got up and headed towards the door, then turned and walked back. Her hands had been empty but now held a leather bound book that looked like a photo album. Kurt looked again at the clock, 11:05 and eleven seconds- it had literally taken her a second to get to her room and back.
She went to sit on the bed again, but halted, looked down and sat facing Kurt on the floor, her back against the bed.
"I haven't shown anyone this. Really I'm not supposed to have this with me, if any of my fathers…" She suddenly realised that anyone that would object to her having the book with her would have been in the copter with her father- they were all dead. "Thompson." She whispered, with regret. She wished now she had been a bit nicer to him on their last meeting, but regrets were something that did no good to the living or dead. She fingered the cover of the book, wondering if she should now show it, would it be an insult to the memory of Thompson and those like him that she had gone behind their backs.
"He wouldn't have begrudged you memories of your family." Kurt assured her, almost as though he could sense her thoughts.
She nodded "You're right." She said as she flipped it open and pulled away the tissue paper from the first page with a solitary photograph adorning it.
The picture was of a man and woman in front of a huge church. People stood behind the happy couple, waving at something off behind the camera. The couple were a bride and groom, the bride's gown was ten times more beautiful than any normal brides, and it was easy to see why. The couple had crowns upon their heads, a golden one for the man a silver one for the woman, a royal couple. Underneath the photo in calligraphic handwriting was written "Royal wedding, HRH Edward and Maria Winters"
"My mother and father's wedding." She enlightened. "It was watched by 50 million people worldwide. It wasn't their wedding so much as the peoples wedding." She said nostalgically, as she looked at the picture before turning it to the next.
The backdrop was the same, the same people stayed in almost the same positions behind the main couple, now both dressed in suits of a kind, the woman's was a pastel pink, the mans a charcoal grey. Both waved again at the invisible crowd, the queen though clutched a white bundle in the crook of her arm against her chest. Below the picture in the same handwriting as before was written "HRH Princess Elizabeth's christening."
"Your parents look very happy" Kurt smiled and Lizzie was forced to too.
"My mother had to endure a 12 hour labour just one week before, I think she's happy just to be able to stand. Plus it was a really long day after a sleepless night, it's a miracle that they still have smiles on their faces."
"How long were your parents married for?"
"10 years. 2 years before I was born, eight after."
"And then?"
She scoffed at his stupidity "They stopped being married."
"I understand that. How?"
She turned another sepia page, this time however stuck to the page was not a photo as such- it was the front page of a tabloid Newspaper. The headline proclaimed "Queen Maria, Dead at 38." The picture was of the smiling queen a tiara of diamonds and pearl on top of her blonde hair.
The smaller headline however proclaimed "Royal beauty Killed in head on collision."
"The driver was drunk." Informed the Princess at his side.
"How did it happen?" He asked quietly, "Aren't you supposed to travel in a group."
"We were supposed to. We were at the circus as special guests, mum got a headache from the bright lights and noise, she left early."
"You sound as if you blame yourself?"
"I do." She admitted. "I made them go. If I hadn't then mum would still be alive."
"Or maybe you would have been travelling together and all have died." Kurt suggested. She looked at him as though he'd just made a bad joke.
"I doubt it." She said sinking lower into her depression.
She turned the page solemnly again, this time the only thing on either page was a stuck in pressed red rose. She stared at it blankly as did Kurt- he had no idea of its significance.
After what seemed a lifetime he finally asked her.
"That Rose represents the last time I was truly ever happy." She replied, devoid of emotion, "That rose is the one I got that night from our hosts as my mum and dad watched me- they said I was going to be a real princess and not just their little one…" now she broke down in tears, sobbing limply onto her photo album.
Kurt leapt forward, pushing the album out of the way and settling beside her instantly. Gently he pulled her against him, as close if not closer than that night in the club when he had helped save her.
He let her head fall gently against his chest, just under his chin. He could smell her scent- a mix of wild berries, fruits of the forest mixed with the fresh scent of tears of sadness and despair.
She shallowly sobbed on, snuggling closer to him with every tear shed. He wrapped his arms around her, in comfort but also drawing her closer… somehow when she was near she quietened everything… even his heartbeat disappeared and all that mattered was the girl.
"sshhhhh." He soothed, stroking her hair, allowing her grief to flow.
She cried solid for around a half hour accompanied now and then with quiet "shhhhh."'s or "There, there"'s. then finally the tide of tears began to grow dry.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with the last of her tears. "I'm sorry…" she breathed quietly.
"For what?" Kurt asked genuinely.
"For being a baby… for sitting and crying like a…"
"There is no need to be sorry for grieving." He replied, cutting her off. He thought for a second.
"If I had gone through what you have…"
"I wanted to ask… but I always thought it rude" She asked, sitting up a little but still keeping close to him… allowing the warmth of their bodies to radiate and spread between them as though they were one.
"What did you wish to ask…?" He looked down at her, the warmth radiating in his glance.
"My mother…" She started, then stopped… "She was a, a mutant. When my powers started to show… she helped me get through it. My father on the other hand- for a while he couldn't accept it."
"Your question is did my parents accept me, how could they…?" He countered, but Lizzie shook her head in sadness and regret at the tone of his voice.
"It was a heartless question to ask… you don't have to answer."
"My parents didn't." Kurt put it bluntly so that she could understand. "They abandoned me, at least my real parents did. I was found on the bank of a river by the people of the circus… they took me in, treated me like their own son…" He trailed off, "They taught me Human compassion, and brought me to my faith…"
"They accepted you blindly?" She asked surprised.
"Did your parents not except you so blindly?"
"No." Lizzie answered quickly, almost too quickly. "My father and mother were both afraid… even though my mother knew how it was, and that I couldn't change it." She lowered her head again against his chest and Kurt's breath caught in his throat, this simple act was of pure trust as all the others tonight the two had preformed… a great difference from the reaction of hers a few days ago.
"Your parents were afraid because…"
"Because my powers were so huge." She interrupted. "My mother could control light… that was about it. My powers… I could freeze time, I could slow it to the minimum… then they realised I could go back. I could change things." Her look said everything… how afraid, how lonely it was with the power she had. And how for a split second her parents had isolated her too. "It was terrifying for them… I just thought of it as fun… and it was. But it wasn't for them. Hell if I did something in public… it would have been the end for them, for me." She sighed sadly, the last tear falling from her eye. "Who'd want a princess that was 'Wrong'?"
This shocked Kurt "You believe you are wrong?". He was still absentmindedly stroking her hair… but she didn't seem to notice much.
"I didn't back then… My Dad didn't either. My mother said I was probably the only right thing in the palace. But everyone else that knew… they thought I was, that I couldn't be "what I was" and a princess. The people wouldn't allow it."
Kurt sat, still puzzled "So… you can't be a mutant and a princess?"
"The advisors didn't think I could. They though that if people knew then they'd call for me to abdicate and my line would die out with me…"
Kurt pulled her a little closer in conciliation, she just sighed however… she wasn't sad anymore, she wasn't angry- she was something worse she was compliant. She was letting this happen to her… she should have been fighting, rebelling… she wasn't.
"But I should be grateful… at least I had my real parents looking after me."
"I'm glad." Kurt smiled.
"Why? They abandoned you."
"If they had not existed I would not have been born. If they had not abandoned me, I would not have found my way to god…"
"I don't get that…" She said gently shaking her head against the man's chest. "I've never really 'got' religion."
"It's faith…" Kurt answered automatically.
"I know it is. I have faith too, just not in something like him up there." She indicated to the crucifix above the bed, the one he'd been thinking about before her arrival.
"It is a symbol, one of hope and love."
Again she shook her head "How can we ever be sure they exist, how can we be sure he exists."
"You have no belief in religion?"
"I see it as an excuse for people to take their differences out on other people. Organised religion is all about 'us' being right and 'them' being wrong…"
He looked at her with pity, was that how she really thought?
"That isn't true…"
"The crusades, religious genocides, Forced marriages- all the miseries that it causes… I don't begrudge anyone faith, its religion I have a problem with." It was now that she pulled away from the closeness- as though her differing point of view had put a barrier between them, it didn't. Kurt looked at it… maybe she was right. But in his heart he felt that she was wrong, and that was faith… a feeling. Maybe her feelings however told her she was right.
"Then what do you believe in?" He asked, wanting to know.
The girl smiled a bitter smile "I don't know what to believe." She laughed "The archbishops in England would be having a field day if they'd heard me say that, "The defender of the faith doesn't have any"."
"You must believe in something?"
She turned again to him, the artificial light of the room bouncing off of her eyes "I do." Now she smiled a genuine smile… "I believe in Human compassion, because you showed it me tonight."
Gently without provocation she leaned forward and grazed his forehead with a kiss.
Kurt had never experienced anything like this before, it was innocent, pure of heart and mind an act of clarity and splendour that had never entered his mind before. That gentle touch that lasted for only a fraction on an instant sent a bolt of emotion through his body the likes of which he'd never witnessed, and probably never would again.
"Thank you." She whispered as she pulled away. She slipped her fingers around her photo album and started to get up…
"You are leaving?" He asked, confused. He didn't want her to leave, not now… not now.
"I've taken up too much of your time…" she said shaking her head as she stood on two shaky legs. She smoothed her dress over her herself and it was only now Kurt realised she had no clumpy jacket around her. Her skin had been as close to his as it could be. He wanted it to be… he rained in the impulse to think closer. He was not wholly successful.
"You have taken up none of my time…" he indicated the clock that was still stuck on 11:05 and eleven seconds. They had talked for what seemed a lifetime in the space of a heartbeat.
"Maybe not… maybe that's why I'm exhausted. It takes energy to keep time stopped still." She said with tired blotchy eyes.
"You keep saying that." He said with a smile, "However I see no evidence… you're just as you always are… just a little closer to your rest that's all."
"Others would call that weary." She smiled, with only a touch of sadness as she slipped towards the door.
"Lizzie," he called softly after her as she started to slip between his room and the hall. She turned a little to listen. "He is always there." Kurt again indicated the man on the cross on his wall. Lizzie let her eyes linger up for a second before bringing them down to his eyes.
"Why do I need him to listen and watch over me when I have my own guardian angel on earth right before me?" and as gently and silently as she had entered she left.
Kurt stood for a moment in the complete silence and breathed in the air that still hung with the sent of her. Wild berries, Wild woman. Untamed heart, troubled soul. A woman full of contradictions.
Then he looked down to the spot where they had sat- his mind was just wondering along on its own when he saw it. A scrap of paper on the floor beside the bed, it must have fallen from the book as she scrambled to her feet.
He bent down and picked it up… it was then he realised it wasn't just a scrap of paper… It was one of the photos from the album.
He turned it over in his fingers looking at the picture side for the first time. This wasn't one of the ones Lizzie had shown him… instead it was a more candid, personal, photo.
And it filled Kurt with sadness.
The photo was in woodland, lush green trees and plants grew behind the two people in it. A man was leaning over towards the camera with short red-blonde hair, on his back was a teenage Lizzie in ripped jeans and the blood red top she had worn at Le Bar bat. She was laughing, as was the man- her father.
And he wasn't going to share another laugh with her like that… he wasn't going to laugh again… and as Kurt sat on his bed looking at the photo he couldn't be sure that Lizzie would laugh like she'd been in the photo ever again.
Lizzie Muse wanders in dressed in her normal clothes… only bright pink. Oracle follows her in. Ha ha ha! Not my clothes! Ha Ha Ha! Yours! You dyed your own clothes Pink!
Lizzie Muse: Do you actually want me to ask for a review, or have you just brought me out here to embarrass me?
Embarrassment all the way. However a review might be nice. Now back to the pointing and the laughing! Ha Ha Ha!!!