Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I totally own the X-Men… and clearly, I'm also a pathological liar.

A/N: As always, hugs and kisses to my darling reviewers – you always make my day! Aww, so sweet.

Krac, Star-of-Chaos, Orage, PomegranateQueen, PsychoRomyChica, ThatsJustPeachy, Sweety8587, darkstorm5000, enchantedlight, Ms.Rogue LeBeau, Rogue14, SickmindedSucker, texasgrrl, Deadhead89, Scoobyd0530, Ladychopsticks, Silver Ink, EviltwinAlix, TheRealMai, Carla-p, and flowerperson – As per flowerperson's suggestion, how about some mangoes? Thank-you mangoes. They're the best kind. Because they thank you! How, I don't know… They can't talk. Would you be able to eat talking fruit? Or talking anything, for that matter… I'll shut up now.

heartsyhawk – The horror, the horror! Hah, glad you hate and adore me, I like that balance. But ouch, my credibility? Hey, I said I wouldn't write anything big until the summer, and that's now! So there.

demiducky25 – Aw, thanks for your catch-up reviews. And no problem with linking to the petition – the more the merrier!

SweetRevenge151 – Cotton socks, eh? I hope they're argyle patterned, those rock.

melancholic – Don't choke the monitor, then you won't be able to read the fluff! When it shows up, that is. And I hate to break it to you, but you might want to sharpen and shine your pitchfork…

Peace215 – You and your crazy predictions… ;-) A little high-strung, are we? Here you go, see how this calms your nerves.

XxFleurdelySxX – Your name is quite hard to type… Just because of that, yes, this will take a long time. ;-) Looking for a new muse, eh? Hopefully this one'll be more productive. Have you tried ordering one off E-bay?

Neurotic Temptress – Pizza, of course! And ice cream, chocolate, and cookie dough. Tons of comfort food, restocked daily, we'll probably go through it fast. I think you've reached your saga quota, it might be my turn, which I've been trying to avoid… curses.

angyxoxo – Die? Now who's being rash? ;-) Nahh, I know, they were both rash and silly, shame on them. Don't fret, Remy'll smell the roses eventually. Metaphorically, that is. And sadly, a little too late… dun dun duhh.

Speck – Wow, longest review ever! I appreciate you breaking your vow of silence. Worried about a train wreck, are you? Frankly, so am I… Do you still kind of trust me at this point and time? I wouldn't, I'm predicting a lot more twitchiness. Great quotation, by the way – that's me in a nutshell.

So! Here we go, yet again. More memories for the wiping… Shall we?

Loved and Lost, or Never At All?

Chapter 6 – Exile

"Seeking to forget makes exile all the longer; the secret of redemption lies in remembrance." - Richard von Weizsaecker

Remy could have sworn he had just heard something… It sounded like someone speaking, it actually sounded eerily like himself, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't make out the words. They had an ethereal quality to them, like they were fading away…

'Must've been somebody echoin' in de back o' de church,' he reasoned, as he turned around and faced the pews with a sigh. He stood at the altar, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world.

He couldn't believe it, the day had finally come. He foolishly thought he had run away from it when he left New Orleans to work for Magneto, but it had just come back to haunt him. He had spent the past few weeks trying to do anything he could to ensure the wedding wouldn't happen, but he had failed. And now he was there, at the altar, about to get married.

That in itself wasn't the problem. Despite his reputation as a player, as a ladies' man, as a love 'em and leave 'em type, Remy wasn't actually afraid of commitment. He already had it – except it was to somebody else.

He loved Rogue. He had never thought it would happen, but he had fallen in love – and he'd fallen hard. Remy had found the right person, the love of his life, his soul mate, and he wanted to spend his life with her. Truth be told, he wanted to marry her one day. There were a few things stopping him from proposing, however – like the fact that they were both still fairly young, or the fact that Wolverine would gut him… But the main reason had been the arranged marriage still hanging over his head.

He was naive to think that he could have outrun it. It had followed him to Bayville, destroyed things there, and forced him back down South – and now his life was about to be ruined. This would be the last moment of the rest of his life, about to be made official in the eyes of God and before the hundreds of guests sitting in the cathedral. Remy was about to get married to a woman he didn't love, to one whom he couldn't even stand, and there was not much he could do about it.

The first strains of music floated through the air. All the guests stood up and turned around, looking towards the entrance of the church for a glimpse of the beautiful bride. Remy took that opportunity to observe them – all the Assassins were seated on one side, while all the Thieves were on the other. He scoffed – they were fooling themselves if they believed this wedding would ensure them peace. How could it, if they weren't even willing to sit next to each other? He was just a pawn in a foolish game, and he would end up being the loser. Remy would be the one having to give up his happiness, his love, and for what? Nothing. He knew no good would come of this, and that made it all the more difficult to bear.

He saw Belladonna walking down the aisle in her intricate, expensive gown. She wasn't wearing a veil, so he could see the malevolent glint in her eyes proclaiming her victory. It wrenched his insides. She was a belle femme (beautiful woman), no doubt about that, but she couldn't compare to Rogue in any way. But then again, in Remy's eyes, nobody could – neither physically nor personality-wise.

As she walked closer to him, he could have sworn that her blonde hair darkened and gained white bangs, that her cold, piercing eyes turned a deep green, that her grinning pink lips turned into dark purple ones that wore Rogue's teasing smirk…

Remy shook himself out of his daze. When Belle reached him, he took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it, yet wholly without feeling. As he slowly began to turn to face the priest, he caught the eye of his father.

Jean-Luc LeBeau's gaze was stern, and held a warning within it. 'Don' do anyt'in' stupid,' Remy imagined him thinking, knowing it was most likely the truth.

As the priest began to speak, Remy tuned out. He looked to his side, at his best man, Henri. His brother gave him a sympathetic smile, but could do no more. Remy didn't expect him to – he had done enough, trying to get him out of this whole mess, and for that Remy was grateful.

He snapped back to attention when the priest addressed the whole congregation and asked, "Does anybody have any reason as t' why dese two should not be wed? Speak now, or fo'ever hold yo' peace."

Remy held his breath and actually prayed – maybe since he was in a church, that would give it some extra merit? He stood there and hoped, harder than he had hoped for anything before, that somebody, anybody, would stand up and object!

A few moments passed.

There was silence.

The priest continued, and Remy's last chance was gone. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach grew worse and worse. From the corner of his eye, Remy glanced toward the stained glass windows.

'Wonder how much dey'd hurt if I jumped t'rough dem?' he speculated, imagining himself running away from an angry assembly of guests, not to mention a murderous jilted bride. It was rapidly becoming a very real possibility – he just couldn't go through with this! He knew that exile, or even death, were potential consequences, but they were preferable to marrying Belle and betraying Rogue.

She was all Remy could think of, and of his promise to come back to her… He hadn't contacted Rogue in the months since he had come to New Orleans – he knew he should have, but he couldn't bear to, for what would he tell her? The only news he ever had was that the wedding was still on. He wasn't able to tell her that, and she wouldn't be able to hear it. Granted, the situation wasn't much better now - would he have to call his chère and break it to her that he was now another woman's husband? He doubted if he would ever be able to tell her that, but that meant not seeing her ever again, or ever hearing her sweet Southern drawl… Either situation would kill them both.

Remy broke out of his musings when the priest raised his voice, and turned to him.

"Do you, Remy Etienne LeBeau," he asked. "Take dis woman, Belladonna Boudreaux, t' be yo' wife, t' have an' t' hold from dis day fo'ward, f'r better o' f'r worse, f'r richer o' f'r poorer, in sickness an' in health, t' love an' t' cherish as long as y' both shall live?"

He felt the chain around his neck, Rogue's anniversary gift to him, grow heavier and heavier - it seemed like it was choking him… He knew what he had to do, consequences be damned. He prepared himself to run, and opened his mouth to answer –

"Arrêtez! (Stop!)" shouted someone from the back of the church. Everybody turned and saw Julien Boudreaux stumbling down the aisle, obviously drunk. Normally Remy hated the mere sight of him, but now he couldn't have been happier to see the man.

"Dis has t' stop! Ma soeur (my sister) ain't about t' marry a low-life, good f'r not'in' mutant t'ief!" he declared, having reached the altar.

Belle glared at him – if looks could kill, her only weapon would be staring. "Julien!" she hissed in fury. "What d' y' t'ink y're doin'? Get out o' here, now!"

"Stoppin' y' from makin' a mistake, dat's what 'm doin'!" he answered, shoving past her and making his way towards Remy.

"Back off, homme," Henri ordered, stepping forward and holding his arm out.

"Non!" he yelled, flailing his hands in the air. "I won' back off, doesn' anybody see how fou (crazy) dis all is?"

Remy smirked – this was the first time the two of them had agreed on anything. However, a frown quickly took the smirk's place when Julien threw a punch at his face.

Quickly ducking, Remy dodged the fist and moved behind the man, who despite being drunk was still an able fighter. Henri came up and grabbed Julien's arms, trying to restrain him, and other Guild members began to rise from their seats to come help.

"Julien!" boomed the commanding voice of Marius Boudreaux as he marched up to them. "Stop dis at once! Y're ruinin' de weddin'!"

"Good!" screamed his son, rapidly twisting around in Henri's hold, and pushing him down the altar steps. Then he rushed towards Remy, and began attacking him.

He arms and legs flew in a frenzy, but didn't land a single blow on his target. Remy was able to easily outmanoeuvre Julien's strikes and tried his best not to hit Julien himself – he wouldn't need another reason for the Assassins to swear vengeance, on top of him not marrying Belladonna.

The two continued their scuffle, with Julien repeatedly lunging at Remy, and Remy moving out of reach again and again. Finally, the Assassin dove at the Thief and put him in a headlock – in return, the Thief attempted to twist the arm not holding him. Locked together, the two struggled, trying to get out of the others' grasp. Belle watched this, and grew more and more furious.

"C'est assez! (That's enough!)" she shrieked, running forward and jumping between the two men to shove them apart. Unluckily for her, she didn't see her brother discreetly draw a dagger and thrust it towards his rival. It was too late to redirect it, and he unintentionally plunged the blade into Belladonna's chest.

"Belle!" gasped Julien as she cried out and fell to the floor, dropping to his knees beside her.

All hell broke loose as people rushed towards her, crying and shouting, trying to stop her bleeding. Remy stepped back with a grim expression on his face. He saw her white dress rapidly stain crimson, and instinctively knew that she wouldn't make it – she was loosing too much blood, her wound was fatal.

He stood silently, watching the others, unsure of what to feel. Belladonna was a bitch, no doubt about that, but he hadn't wished her dead. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like there would have been any other way for him to get out of the wedding - he knew for a fact that she would have kept after him, hounding him, tormenting him. But now he was free, ironically due to her saving his life…

"Elle est mort (She's dead)," Tante Mattie announced quietly, from where she had been tending to Belle.

Remy took one last look at her lying motionless on the floor, with Julien kneeling beside her, desperately shaking her body. He nodded sombrely, and whispered her a silent thank-you. Unnoticeably making his way around the swarm of people, he began to walk down the aisle and out of the church.

"Where y' t'ink y're goin', boy?" bellowed Marius in a rage, breaking away from the crowd around his dead daughter.

"'M getting' out o' here," he replied, leaving no room for negotiation. "Dis ain't m' mess."

"De hell it's not!" sputtered the head Assassin, and was about to continue when Jean-Luc approached them, clearing his throat and glaring at him.

"Dis ain't yo' place, Marius, he's my son."

Marius glowered back and screamed, "I want him punished! Dis be his fault, ma fille (my daughter) is dead because o' him!"

"No, dis is de fault o' your son. Go deal wit' him, an' let m' deal wit' mine," commanded Jean-Luc.

The head of the Assassins continued to glare at his Thief counterpart for a while longer. "Dis ain't over," he swore ominously, and then reluctantly turned and stalked back to the altar.

Walking over to his son, the eldest LeBeau lowered his voice and began to speak. "Remy, y' can't jus' desert us like dis."

"Oui, I can an' I will," Remy stated vehemently. "Y' tol' m' dat as long as dis weddin' was goin' on, I had t' be here. I stayed, an' y' know how much I didn' wan' t'! Well, it don' look like dere's a weddin' no mo', so 'm leavin'."

"I forbid it!" came the heated declaration. "Dis'll cause anot'er war b'tween de Guilds! Y're jus' goin' t' run away from yo' responsibilities again?"

"Open yo' eyes! Dere's always been a war, not'in' will change dat. An' I have ot'er responsibilities dat are mo' important t' m' right now," he countered with an air of finality, recalling his promise to Rogue. It was one he was going to keep, one he had to keep, no matter what.

Jean-Luc was seething. "Do y' realize what y're doin, mon fils? (my son?) Y're turnin' yo' back on yo' family."

"Let him go, père (father)," Henri stated, coming up from behind and placing a restraining hand on Jean-Luc's arm. "We can handle dis wit'out him, y' know dat. He wants t' go back, an' he'll go whet'er y' let him or not."

Opening his mouth to argue, Jean-Luc took one look at the resolute expressions on the faces of both of his sons, and he shut it again. Snorting, he turned and walked away, disdainfully calling out over his shoulder, "I hope she's wort' it, Remy."

Henri shook his head at his father, and then turned to give his brother a sharp look. "She is wort' it, right?"

"Bien sûr (Of course)."

"Y' know, 'm surprised y' stuck 'round dis long den."

"M' too," chuckled Remy.

He then took a moment to look at his brother, the man who had risked the wrath of both Guilds in trying to help him find a way out of the arrangement. It didn't matter that he hadn't succeeded, he had tried - and that meant a great deal to Remy. He wanted to thank him, but couldn't quite find the words.

Instead, he just smiled warmly and said, "Merci beaucoup (Thank you very much), Henri."

Henri nodded, and from the look in his eyes, Remy knew he understood. "Well, what y' waitin' f'r? Get goin'. Invite m' t' de weddin', 'kay? I'll be expectin' anot'er invitation t' be de best man, comprends? (understand?)" he joked.

Remy grinned and nodded. With that, he swiftly strode out of the church.

He reached the Thieves' estate in record time and raced to his room. He quickly changed out of his suit – something told him that showing up in it might not have been the best of ideas. It only took him seconds to pack his belongings – he had left behind all of his most prized possessions. Taking his motorcycle from the garage, Remy glanced back to take in the view of New Orleans, and then drove at top speeds towards New York – and Rogue. He couldn't wait to surprise his chère…

After a few minutes of driving, he noticed that the road ahead of him was getting foggy. What was going on? It was a beautiful day, it was strange to see fog appear of out nowhere… As Remy drove into the mist, everything became blurry - he could barely see anything around him. It seemed dangerous to continue, so he contemplated pulling over somewhere, or else he might not make it to Bayville. But…

'Why 'm I goin' t' Bayville again?' Remy wondered as he drove on, and the fog encompassed him.

Gosh, aren't weddings fun? Well, if Belle dies every time, I think they are…

Next chapter – We'll see what happened when Remy arrived in New Orleans.

My stars, do reviews ever make me smile. So how 'bout some more? They make me write a whole lot faster too, hint hint… ;-) Can we aim for 200? Come on, you can do it!

Toodles,

- ish -