""Scuse me?" Rogue sputtered, shaking her head slightly. "What did you just say?" Remy once again thrust the collar of her cloak over the girl's mouth
"Shhhhhh!" he hissed angrily. "Don' make meh regret doin' dis!" Rogue grabbed the wrist of her right hand in her left, rubbing where the tough ropes had pinned the fabric of her leather gloves against the skin. Remy sheathed his knife and got off the floor, his attention now focused on the wall, or rather, the narrow window near the ceiling. Rogue hopped to her feet, thrilled to be able to do so once again, and quickly made a beeline for the door. Hand reaching for the knob, she was surprised to find it locked. Turning on heel, she rounded on her captor.
"What gives?" she demanded. "I thought you were letting me go?" Remy chuckled, pulling the rusty folding chair over to the wall.
"Tink girl," he chided. "Half da Guild in here righ' now. You cain't just go struttin' out da front door."
"Great, so how do you plan on doing this exactly?" she asked huffily, planting her hands on her hips and fighting off the urge to give Remy a shiner to match his brother's. His chuckling turned to outright laughter and Rogue was actually cocking her fist when Remy pointed to the window.
"T'rough dere, soon as I get it open." He hopped onto the chair and began examining the boards covering the narrow frame. "We in da basement, on da backside of da house. We jus' pop dis off and be on our way." That stopped Rogue's fist mid-swing.
"We?" Remy planted his feet on the wall and, gripping the boarded mass in his fists, leaned back and pulled. The boards didn't budge. Rearing back his fists, he began banging randomly, looking for rotten spots as he spoke.
"Yeah, we," he said mockingly, regarding Rogue out of the corner of his eye. "'Cause I highly doubt you can find your way back ta N'Orleans in the dark, by yo'self." Turning back to his task, Remy was having little success removing their 'roadblock.' Meanwhile, Rogue was busy catching flies in her open mouth.
"So you're…you're coming with me?"
"Close our mouth dere, chere. I t'ought I already answered dat question," he said, banging futilely on the beams. Then finally, "screw dis crap!" Frustrated and running out of time, Remy stuck his hand through the tangled mess of wood and closed his eyes.
"What did you mean…" Rogue started to ask, then stopped shorts as the normal wood began to glow bright purple. "What the hell…"
"No time for dat, babe," Remy muttered, leaping of the chair and grabbing roughly by the shoulder, hurling them both into the corner. "Fire in da hole." Remy shielded her body with his own as the boarded up mess blew to pieces with a loud bang. Bits of twisted wood and nails ricocheted off the walls and Rogue peered out from behind her protector and looked through the billowing smoke.
"What the hell did you do?" she asked, looking at the now open window in shock. Remy was up and moving thought, hauling himself through the narrow opening, carefully avoiding bits of stray glass. Forcing his feet through behind him, he turned and stuck his head back inside to where Rogue was still standing in the same spot, staring dumbly.
"Look Roguey, dat wasn't 'xactly the discreet exit Ah was plannin' on," he said, masking his frustration. "You wanna go, it's now or never." Rogue took one last glance about her, and then back to Remy. She sure as hell didn't trust the man who'd been holding her here for so long, but he was on the outside. And whatever was out there, was certainly better than what was in this room. Covering the distance between them in her long strides, she leapt onto the chair, grabbed his hand firmly, and crawled back to freedom.
"This is disgusting," Rogue muttered, shaking her scum coated foot. Then spitting out a mouth full of leaves as she walked straight into a low hanging branch. Remy neither stopped nor slowed to accommodate her.
Turns out the reason The Guild had gained possession of the plantation so easily because it's pretty damn hard to grow tobacco on a bayou, which is pretty much a swamp, but with a better name. So, Rogue had followed Remy out of the house and into the surrounding marsh in a desperate attempt to escape imprisonment, only to find herself imprisoned in mud and murky water. Remy knew where he was going, but in the dark, and with an unseasoned companion, it was slow going. Plus, taking the direct route to New Orleans wasn't really an option as it cut across the main path of every Guild member in the state. So they were stuck, mucking it the hard way. Desperate to shake off the feeling that she was being watched by all manner of creepy crawlies and to fight off the horror movie-esq silence, Rogue was doing her best to fill the silence.
"Back there, what you did?" she asked. "Was that you're power?" Silence. "It was pretty impressive. Wish I could do something like that," she murmured. Still no reply. Alright, new topic…
"So, what are you going to do with me?" Remy kicked a bush out of his way, not really feeling like talking, but not wanting to piss the girl off again.
"First, we gonna stop by a friend o' mine's," he said softly, not wanting to dwell on that thought. "We gonna bet you a new look, new name, and try and smuggle ya outta here."
"So, whatcha going to tell them once I'm gone. Won't they wonder what happened and why you disappeared?" Remy ignored her question except for a slight shrug. Sighing, Rogue ducked to avoid a swing branch and tired, once again, to break the silence.
"So tell me about your family. You must not have a lot in common since you didn't seem to have inherited the same perverted tendencies as your brother." That got him going. Between gritted teeth he muttered,
"Henri ain't perverted."
"I rolled over on the bed and he grabbed my ass!" A small chuckle burst through Remy's lips. 'Well,' he thought to himself, 'dat explains da shiner Henri was wearin'' Then out loud,
"Granted dat makes him a moron, but he ain't a pervert. Henri jus' got a predisposition fo' da ladies, dats all." Alright, so Henri had had his fair share of issues with chasing those of the opposite sex, but Remy felt Rogue didn't need to know all the embarrassing details. The ensuing silence gave Rogue's mouth the chance to run off with out the consent of her brain.
"Predisposition? That's a pretty big word there," she heard herself saying, wishing she could call the words back. Remy wished she had too. He was worm thin and tired. Risking it all for a girl you barely know would do that, and now she couldn't even bee pleasant to him. He'd just given up everything he held dear…for her. And this was how she treated him? He stopped his forward progress, whirling sharply and pointing his finger in Rogue's face.
"Look here kid," he said, falling back on the insult that always got to him, "just 'cause Ah'm a t'ief don't make me stupid! Ah'm doin' dis all for you, ya know!" he shouted, rattling the trees themselves. "The least ya could do is show some gratitude." Rogue had other ideas though. She shoved his hand out of her face, crying,
"Oh, gratitude. You want gratitude? For what, kidnapping me? Or, or holding me against my will? What, now you've had a sudden change of heart and I'm just supposed to roll over and kiss your feet? I don't think so!"
"Ah ne'er said dat…" Remy interjected, but Rogue was on a roll now.
"And then you decided that you want to help me? How do I know that you're not just leading me away to kill me, or trade away, or whatever the hell it is you people do to captives? Huh?
"…Ah'm jus' tryin' to help you…"
"Ah don't recall asking for your help!" she shrieked.
"You wouldn't last two seconds out here!" he cried back, equally as loud. Good thing they were a few miles from HQ, because their volume was scaring birds into the air.
"I'd be better off without you!" Rogue vented. "So why don't you just run off, back to your little thief club, and let me get back to living my miserable excuse for a life!" Remy was tempted, but his conscience wouldn't allow it.
"Ah cain't go back!" he finally admitted The entire Bayou stood still for a full five seconds. Everything from the beating of Rogue's heart to the chirping of the summer cicadas. Not a sound was heard until,
"What?" she finally sputtered out.
"Ah told you," Remy said with a disgusted sigh. "The Guild is family. And Ah jus' committed da ultimate crime agains' dem: putting mah own well bein', and yours, before dat of da Guild's. I cain't go back." Remy was panting from yelling and the pent up sadness and desperation welling inside his chest. Rogue dropped her head to cover up her disgrace.
"I'm sorry. I…I didn't know." She was utterly mortified. At her behavior, at their little shouting match. But in her own defense, she'd had no idea.
"Rogue, what you don't know is a lot."
"So why did you…why?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Why help me? Why me…over your family?"
"Ah don' know why. Chere, you an enigma wrapped in a mystery, and you pullin' me in. But lik it or not, you an' Ah? We in dis together. So getting along migh' not be a bad ideah." Then he turned and resumed walking, as if nothing had happened. As if acting on their own will, Rogue's feet followed. Noting had changed…and yet everything seemed to have.
Silently, they had both agreed to an invisible pact. Agreed to follow where the other led. Agreed to follow the hearts that were leading them without rhyme or reason. Agreed to stick together. There, alone in the middle of the muddy Bayou, the thief and the runaway reached a truce. Silently, the duo pressed onward into the darkness.
New York might be called the city that never sleeps, but the term seemed more applicable to New Orleans. Rogue and Remy had trekked all across Louisiana, putting as much distance between them and The Thieves Guild HQ as possible. But still, even taking the long way, they eventually reached the city. Shortly after 7:00 am in fact. And despite the early morning hours, and the fact that it was Sunday, the sidewalks were still jammed with people. It might as well have been a Friday night during Mardi Gras to judge by the population in the move.
Tired, damp, and streaked with mud, Remy paused to lean against the wall of a derelict warehouse, just on the fringes of the main drag, and practically invisible to the crowds moving past. Rogue let out a muted sigh and leaned back beside him. Somewhere along their hike her bandages had snagged on a low lying branch and, unable to untie them in the dark, she'd torn them off. Mama Cece's paste had done wonders, as usual, reducing Rouge's gash to a fading scab and scar. Remy was struck by how pretty the girl seemed without the white wrappings obscuring half her head. It was because he was still so focused on her that the issue of the cloak occurred to him.
"Here, gimme dat ting," he ordered, stripping the forest green cloak off Rogue's right shoulder. "Ya stick out lik a sore t'umb in it." Shoving his hands aside, Rogue yanked the clasp apart and shucked out of the warm garment, folding it up and draping it over the Cajun's outstretched arm
Remy, in turn, peeled off his trench coat and draped it across her narrow shoulders, prom date with tuxedo jacket style.
"Now listen," he began, and Rogue sighed to herself. He had that lecture tone going again. "We ain't goin' far, but keep ya head down so it be harder ta spot ya…"
"Alright," she muttered, undoing her ponytail so her rich, auburn locks obscured her face, and thrusting her brightly gloved hands into her pockets.
"…don' ask questions when we get out dere, don' make a scene…"
"Alright," Rogue said again, patience quickly waning, but Remy was not quite done. Not just yet.
"…and, for da love o' God, don' do nuthin' stupid."
"ALRIGHT!" she screeched, exasperated. A few heads in the crowd turned to look their direction at her shout. Remy clamped his hand down on her shoulder in an iron grip and wrenched her upper body to within an inch of his
"Lik dat," he whispered violently into her ear. Rogue could feel the anger pulsating through him and was instantly sorry. After all, he was doing this to help her.
"Sorry," she murmured sullenly, averting her face from his, instantly aware of how close they were. Rogue hated looking at Remy only to see herself reflected in those expressionless glasses. She would have much rather looked him square in the eyes, despite how strange they may have looked.
Trying to look anywhere but at his face, Rogue's gaze landed on something silver and glinting tucked into Remy's belt. A lighter maybe? But she didn't have time to ponder the mystery for long because Remy's arm snaked off her shoulder and coiled around her waist, pinning her still pocketed hands and arms to her side. Despite herself, Rogue tensed slightly under his grip. He noticed, and felt a little hurt, but said nothing in that regard. Instead,
"Put your head on mah shoulder," he instructed into her ear, and for once in her life Rouge didn't protest. Then, looking like a perfectly happy (slightly muddy) young couple, the duo forced their way into the crowd, allowing themselves to be swept into the mass and pushed along. Moments later they were gone.
Rogue was positive that Remy must have been lying about not going far. Her feet were throbbing terribly and she felt as if they if they'd combed all of New Orleans three times over. But still the Cajun pressed onwards, still pressing Rogue tightly to his side, dragging her along at his brisk pace. Inclining her head slightly off his shoulder, she asked in a hushed voice,
"Where are we going?" Remy didn't say anything, but his stiff 'Ah-em!' was answer enough. He was pissed about her 'no questions' violation and now was not the time or place for another debate. Too exhausted for another confrontation, Rogue resettled her head, closing her mouth and opening her other senses. Strangely, being so close to Remy, he smelled like bourbon and fresh earth. Shaking that thought from her mind, she noted that, as they continued, the buildings got worse and worse. Fine dining and pricey hotels fading to Laundromats and Adult bookstores. After several more blocks of treading on and on, Remy finally stopped in front of their destination.
Les Charme Français Apartments were far less glamorous than their name implied. The courtyard was U-shaped, containing a circular reflecting pool and the remnants of a brass fountainhead. Literally. The only part of the of the ceramic cherub statue that remained was the head, attached to a rusted bronze pipe. The small shrubs and potted plants that had probably been quite charming in their prime, were either dead or close to it, fading to the same dingy brown of the apartments themselves. The finished effect gave the place a very eerie feel. Remy, however, seemed unperturbed. He paused, though, when he realized that Rogue had stopped short, preoccupied with looking around.
"Comin'?" he demanded, one foot poised to move up the rickety stair case in the corner. Rogue walked swiftly over to him.
"So, I take it I can talk now?" she shot back, saucily, bounding up the steps. Remy had just stepped off the first floor landing and was making his way up to the second when he turned and shot her a look.
"If ya must," the Cajun muttered in exasperation. Heart beating nervously as he climbed, Remy would have rather been anywhere than here, but with Rogue in trouble, he really had no other options. And speak of the devil…
"What exactly are we doing here?" Rogue panted, suddenly appearing by his side at the top of the stairs. The apartments were connected and accessed by a balcony/hallway curving around the courtyard and sheltered by a narrow roof. Turing right onto said walkway, Remy didn't answer. Instead he snaked his arms around the runaway's waist once more and led her to door 2B. His face, appearing perfectly calm despite the twisted feeling in his gut, bore a grim smile as he knocked firmly on the door. There was a moment of pause before,
"Who's dere?" called a feminine voice from within, muffled by the door. Remy cleared his throat nervously.
"It's meh." The woman within didn't answer right away, and Remy seemed to be holding his breath. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of silence, Rogue heard the distinct Thunk Thunk of heels or boots making their way towards the door from inside. Whoever was inside fiddled with a simple chain lock that tinkled as it was handled, and finally, although with some hesitancy on the part of the occupant, the door opened.
First one slender leg, and then another appeared as the woman stepped out of the doorway and onto the balcony, regarding the duo before her. Strikingly beautiful, her golden tresses were pulled back to the nape of her neck half-hazardly. Intense brown eyes scanned Remy and Rogue with a calculating look from beneath delicately arched brows. Well muscled arms, hidden beneath a simple gray shirt, crossed over her breasts as she spoke.
"Well Remy. It's been a while," she murmured with an accent typical of all the locals. Her lips parted in a sad smile as she waited for a response. Remy gave Rogue's waist a comforting squeeze as he said,
"It has. Rogue," he turned his face back to hers, "'llow meh ta introduce Belladonna Boudreaux, mah ex-fiancé."
A/N: Hey ya'll! Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry for the delay in updates, but school started and I've been a little busy. But I'll keep updating, never fear. And you should all keep reading, cause things just got interesting and I've got something special planned for next chapter. A fight that you wouldn't believe…think Remy vs….well, you'll have to wait and see. Catch ya on the flip side :)