DISCLAIMER: X-Men: Evo belongs to Warner Bros. And Marvel Comics. I have never, and shall never own them, no matter how much I may want to. I've simply warped them to fit my own twisted mind. However, this fic and any original work herein is officially mine, and anyone trying to steal it will find out how painful a weapon a computer mouse can when used by someone with imagination.
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film project, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* those movies. Influences rather include InterNutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
_Hello_ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I think it's pretty much a given now that I have to apologise whever I update for my slowness in doing so. So from now on, just pretend I did it, and we can all get on with things that much quicker.
Many thanks to all who reviewed, and especially to those who left longer pieces of feedback. Ask me questions, please! I *like* answering questions, especially pertaining to the Earth Realm universe. There are so many useless bits and pieces about it I had to come up with but which shall never get mentioned in this fic because they're superfluous to the plot. Damn. *Sigh* Glad to see someone liking the Tabby interludes, though. Tabby is actually one of my preferred characters, but she kind of demands to be written a certain way, which can be taken incorrectly by some people. If I look like I'm mistreating anyone, I'm not. Chances are, if they're bad-tempered, un-likeable and mean, they're my favourites.
Look out for some more cameos in this chapter, or mentions of future cameos. I'll just say in advance that this was written last year, before I saw season two and had any idea what some characters - and their accents - were like. I worked mainly from the old animated TV show of the early nineties, which means a few accents are codified (read: mangled) in such a manner as I wouldn't dream of doing nowadays.
And just in answer to the question, 'what happened to Remy?' I honestly don't know. I haven't mentioned him anywhere. Did he sneak in? Did I forget to lock the door again? Is he even *in* this fic? Um... no. Guess I should just nip this one in the bud now instead of unfairly stringing people along. Remy will, in all likelihood, not make an appearance in this fic. He may be mentioned - I don't know on that front, I haven't finished it yet - but he won't be seen. I *did* have plans to use him in a punitive sequel, but now I'm not sure that's ever going to get written thanks to other commitments and my magpie-like nature where fanfiction is concerned. I get sidetracked by other projects easily.
Sorry all you Cajun fans out there, but frankly, I'm sick of Romy. I used to really, really like it, and in the canon I'd still go for it, but I'm just not in any mood to write any of my own right now. Apologies.
In other news, please check out the other multi-chapter Evo fic I have on the go right now, entitled 'Judgment Day'. It's a co-written project by me and several other good, solid Evo authors (including Yma and InterNutter amongst others), and deals with a post-apocalyptic landscape brought on by human intolerance to Mutantkind, and vice versa. Remy *does* make an appearance in that one, and there's lots of Elf mixed in there. Please go and review it. You'd make many authors very happy.
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'Of Beast and Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Thirteen ~ 'Amity'
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'When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate now knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.' -- Henri Nouwen, 'Out of Solitude'
*******************
Kurt's mouth hung open in shock. His golden eyes scanned the table before him incredulously, and a small gob of saliva began running down his furry chin.
"Durch alle Götter in den Himmeln!" he murmured.
In front of him, and also still being doled out by several Underlings and Initiates pottering about the long wooden tables and benches, was a veritable feast the likes of which he'd never known and hadn't had the presence of mind to even dream about.
Changelings and other colourful folk hurried around the Great Hall carrying large loaves and knives. They paused at each place and cut a thick wedge of bread, setting it before the seated person as his or her trencher, on which the food would be served. There simply weren't enough dishes in the temple for everyone to have one; and since all were reputed to be equal, it had been agreed long ago that nobody would have one, and instead would use trenchers that could be eaten afterwards.
The slice set before Kurt had been coloured green, with parsley, for extra flair. Nearby were pats of butter and soft cheese, from which his sensitive nose detected a not-unpleasant odour. It was all first-rate fare. The bread was fine and soft, with a rich crispy crust. The butter was smooth, and the cheese possessed an unusual salty tang he'd never tasted before in the hard, chewy stuff he was used to.
Next to him, Jubilee shot the elf a cheerful look. "Shut your mouth, or you might catch flies in it."
Kurt's jaws snapped together with a hollow click. "Entschuldigung, but I've never seen so much food all in one place. Is this whole slice for me?"
She laughed. "Of course it is, stupid. Who did you think it was for? You can spread the butter and cheese on it to if you like. But be careful, don't eat it all now, or you won't have anything to put the rest on later."
Kurt's eyes grew round like moons. "There's *more*?"
Jubilee laughed again and tapped the side of her nose, before taking a knife and lathering her trencher in cheese. Kurt simply stared. He thought of the tough, dark, heavy bread at home, with its scant scraping of butter. How long ago that seemed now. Almost like a different lifetime.
"Hey, Kurt!"
He swivelled his head round to see Kitty, some way down the table on the opposite side to himself and Jubilee. Because of their late arrival, they hadn't been able to all sit together, and Kurt had found himself perched at the end, whilst Kitty was right in the middle of the bench. She waved at him, smiling.
"Looks good, huh?"
"Ja," he replied, barely holding his salivating in check. "Good enough to eat, in fact."
The figure next to Kitty heard him and called back; "Ah wouldn't recommend it jus' yet. Else, with no trencher, ya'll have to cup ya hands fer the rest." He grinned good-naturedly, blond shaggy hair flopping into his eyes. Kurt recognized him as the tall southern youth who'd flown Rogue up to the Infirmary so spectacularly when they first arrived. "Ah'm Sam," he introduced himself. "Sam Guthrie. Formerly of the Southern Realms."
"Kurt. Formerly of the Black Forest."
"Ah well know who y'are," Sam replied, before turning to Kitty. "An' you, pretty missy. Ya'll are quite famous 'round here."
Kitty blushed slightly at the compliment. "Really? But we just, like, got here this morning. And this place is huge. How can people already know who we are?"
"Hey, when there are telepaths around, nothing stays secret for long," the girl on Kitty's other side piped up. Her short red bunches bounced flamboyantly as she stuck out her hand for Kitty to shake. "Name's Rahne Sinclair, but you can call me Rahne."
"Thanks. I think," said Kitty warily, taking the proffered hand. The forthright redhead chuckled.
"Besides, if anyone has a private meeting with the Temple Mother then word gets out *extra* extra fast. She doesn't give them very often, so gossip hounds just love stuff like that."
Kitty blinked. "You mean Ororo?"
"Wow, she's on first name terms already." Sam whistled. "Most of us call her Temple Mother. As a mark of respect, see?"
"Hey, uh, Sam?" Kurt interrupted. "There was something I wanted to say earlier, but I never got the chance. Um... I just wanted to tell you... thanks. For what you did for our fr... that girl we were with."
The lofty boy waved a hand, brushing Kurt's thanks aside. "Think nuthin' of it. Ah wuz jus' doin' mah duty. Would've done it fer anyone."
Jubilee joined in the conversation that stretched across the width of the table. "Stop being so humble, Sam Guthrie. Initiate Ashari said herself that the girl would've died if you hadn't got her to the Infirmary so fast. You're a hero."
Now it was Sam's turn to blush. "Well, when ya put it like that..."
"We *do* put it like that, Mr. Guthrie - " Kitty claimed his attention again, but he cut her off.
"Please, jus' call me Sam. I ain't much older than you, I'd wager, but calling me 'Mr. Guthrie' makes me feel like an ancient."
"Sorry. Sam, you really are a hero. Ro - that girl," Kitty hurriedly corrected herself, hoping that nobody would notice her slip of the tongue. There was still no guarantee what the reaction would be to Rogue's true identity, and Kitty didn't want to be the one responsible for causing more trouble; "would most certainly be dead now if it wasn't for you. We're both very grateful."
Rahne gave a mischievous grin. "Ooh, Sam. Sounds like you got yourself an admirer."
Both Sam and Kitty's cheeks coloured, and the boy hissed out of the side of his mouth: "Shuddup, Rahne."
Rahne giggled at their reaction, wolf whistling, and Jubilee joined in. Yet somehow, Kurt didn't find it funny. However, rather than lose face, he laughed alongside his newfound companions; but it was strangely forced. Inside, something stirred within his gut. Some emotion he'd never experienced before, and so couldn't properly identify. It gnawed at him as he watched Kitty and Sam's twin blushes, but still he couldn't understand what it was. All he knew was that it was extremely unpleasant.
How odd. He'd never had trouble laughing before.
His discomfort was forgotten, however, as two of the Changelings serving the food returned to their table with a large cooking pot carried between them. They struggled to each place, refusing help and ladling its contents onto each person's trencher with care so that nothing leaked off onto the table.
Kurt leaned back, as onto his bread was served a meat pudding in a suet crust, with slices of spicy sausage around it. The clouds of scented steam rising from it filled his sensitive nostrils, and his mouth began to water in anticipation. Around him people were eating heartily, and the elf dug in with great gusto.
Jubilee watched as he smacked his lips, food disappearing down his throat at a tremendous rate.
"Whoa, there. You'll give yourself a tummy-ache," she warned.
"Not me, Fraulein," Kurt retorted, patting his slender frame where she supposed his stomach must be located. "I can't get it in me fast enough. This food ist wunderbar!"
She nodded in agreement. "I must admit, we don't usually have such fare this early in the day. As a rule, we have a smaller meal at lunch, and the larger one in the evening. The Temple Mother must have arranged things specially for you and your weird met... metab... that thing where you faint if you don't eat enough."
"Metabolism," Kurt finished for her, repeating the word Rogue had said outside the gates of Zanninsa.
"Yeah, that."
Kurt paused in his compulsory gluttony. "Ororo could really do that? Rearrange the timetable just for one person?"
"Hey, she's the Temple Mother. She can do almost anything around here. People would willingly jump off buildings if she told them to," the oriental girl replied. "Luckily, she's too sensible to do anything like that."
"Wow," Kurt murmured, a driblet of grease trickling down his chin as he digested what she'd said along with his food. "Ororo has that much power around here?"
"And more besides," Jubilee said with the air of one who knows, but isn't going to divulge just how they came across their information. "You don't get to be Temple Mother unless you have the ability to protect the temple. The job requires more than just brains - although they're real important too."
Kurt thought about this for a moment, and a cryptic comment the dark skinned woman had made earlier abruptly popped back into his head. He frowned, contemplating it and what she'd meant, but never explained.
_'I'm not a Changeling. But I'm not exactly human, either.' What did Ororo mean by that, I wonder? She certainly looks like a human. And she must have *some* kind of special powers, or else she wouldn't *be* the Temple Mother. But if she's not human, and she's not a Changeling... then what *is* she?_
A hand waved in front of his face, and Kurt nearly fell off his chair, as he was startled out of his thoughts.
"Yoo-hoo, reality to Kurt," Jubilee quipped. "You feeling OK? You kinda zoned out for a bit there."
"Entschuldigung," Kurt hastily apologized. "I was just thinking. Fraulein, can you explain something to me? Just exactly what people *is* Ororo from? I could sense an awful lot of power in her, but she said point blank that she's not a Changeling."
Jubilee nodded. "As far as any of us are aware, she's not. But I'm afraid I can't answer your question, Kurt. I don't rightly know what Ororo is. A while ago some of us played with the idea that she must be some kind of mage - "
"A mage, jawohl," he interjected. "Magic like that would definitely explain the strange power I could sense."
"Except that she can't be."
Kurt frowned. "Why not? It makes perfect sense."
Jubilee sighed. "You obviously don't know much about mages and magicians. Mages have to use objects like precious stones, staffs and wands to channel their magic. Ororo doesn't have anything like that, and from what I've heard, she doesn't need it either. Plus, mages have to drain their magic sometimes when too much of it stores up inside them. This means a big firework display, or some other kind of similar outburst. But nobody - and I mean *nobody*; not even the Initiates who've been here for *years* - can ever remember Ororo having to do anything like that."
"So... if she's not a mage, then what is she?"
Jubilee shrugged. "You got me."
Kurt fell back into quiet speculation, and the conversation was effectively killed as both he and Jubilee returned to their food.
In what seemed like no time at all, Kurt's trencher was clear. Mere moments later, Jubilee's was the same - although, hers wasn't quite as picked clean as the elf's, but near enough. Kurt raised an eyebrow at her.
"You sure you haven't got a high metabolism too? You put it away fast enough."
"Nah. Just a good appetite," she replied, smiling.
"That's a good thing," a new voice stated from over her shoulder, "because here's the next course."
The grinning Underlings with the cooking pot were back, making their way along the rows with yet more fodder. This time, however, they were also refilling any cups that needed topping up with water - a welcome thing to those tender tongues who were feeling the after effects of the spicy sausage.
Kurt eagerly watched them dole out his portion of food, mouth becoming a miniature waterfall, and vaguely heard Kitty exclaim from somewhere down the table: "Man, I'm like, totally full. I don't think I can eat any more."
"Aw, just a little bit. Fer me, pretty missy. Ah wuz on kitchen duty today, so this wuz all made by mah own fair hands."
A burst of light giggling. "Well, since you asked so nice, Mr. Guthrie."
"Sam. Just Sam, kitten."
Something bubbled and gurgled inside Kurt's gut again at the sound of Kitty and Sam's idle banter, and somehow he knew it wasn't his stomach's call for more food. His eyes strayed to where they sat, and inadvertently he frowned deeply, not noticing a curious look elicited next to him by doing so.
Dutifully, he ate the third course: poached cod, caught that morning from one of the temple ponds, in a thick pottage of spiced vegetables. Yet he barely remembered its flavour afterwards. His tongue felt thick, and though he gulped down smaller mouthfuls to compensate this, pieces of fish still got caught in the back of his throat - which felt rather constricted itself, when he thought about it.
How very odd.
Not able to properly identify what was causing this strange reaction, Kurt made an educated guess and put it down to worry for Rogue. Guilt washed over him as he realized how little he'd thought of her since his earlier audience with Ororo and Initiate Ashari, and as he summoned her back to his mind, he couldn't help fresh worry blossoming. How was she doing? Was she going to be OK? Would they let him see her later?
More than once his gaze slid across to the spiral staircase that he knew led to the Infirmary, which was just visible through the huge double doors they'd entered the Great Hall through from the corridor outside. His gaze was troubled. Noticeably so.
Jubilee saw him and, guessing his train of thought, laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she whispered reassuringly. "She'll be fine. Just keeping believing that, and she'll be OK. Positive thinking. It works wonders, trust me."
Kurt swivelled his head around. "You think so?"
Jubilee shook her head, expression grave, and for an instant his face fell.
"I know so."
It took a moment for her joke to sink in, but when it did, Kurt gave her his trademark grin and playfully pushed her hand away. "Danke schon, Frauline."
"Any time, fuzz-butt."
He laughed, popping another mouthful of pottage into his ever-ready maw and chewing vigorously. Flecks of carrot sprayed around his fangs as he continued to chuckle, and Jubilee pulled a face and good-humouredly poked him in the chest.
"Eew! Say it, don't spray it, Kurt! I wanna eat my lunch, not wear yours."
"Sorry, Frauline. I'll try not to waste it on you. It's too good for that."
"Too good? Why you little - "
The two erupted into peals of laughter, as Jubilee proceeded to lunge at Kurt, tickling him as best she could through the folds of his robe. Kurt tried to keep a straight face, but failed as she discovered a particularly ticklish spot beneath his arm. He exploded into a fit of giggles, sending a glob of half-chewed onion sailing through the air to land with a faint 'splot' on the floor. The unexpected missile was greeted by exclamations from the other Underlings at their table.
"Eew, gross!"
"Who did that?"
"Good aim, whoever it was."
"Good aim? I got sprayed as it went over. Yuk!"
"It's a good look for you."
"Oh yeah?"
Laughter spread down the rows like wildfire, as it was wont to do among contented people. Some laughed without really knowing what they were laughing at; others were genuinely amused at Kurt and Jubilee's antics. In fact, very few didn't share in this spirit of good feeling. Mainly the older, more stoic members of the temple, whose faces - some of the Underlings joked - would probably crack if they ever attempted a smile.
Eventually, the meal was over, and those assigned to kitchen duty - amongst them, Sam - dutifully rose from their places, collected together all the dishes they could carry, and made their way to the kitchens to begin the washing up. Everyone else waited until their table was dismissed, before also rising and filing out of the Great Hall to return to their chores for the afternoon.
As the single file deteriorated into a mass of milling people in the corridor, Kurt quickly made his way over to Kitty's side. Jubilee hurried to catch up with them, but found herself cut off by a swarm of chuckling Underlings.
"Hey, move along will ya? I'm gonna lose them," she muttered, pushing and shoving against the horde of moving bodies that seemed intent on taking her in the wrong direction.
"Move along yerself," shot back a cheeky boy, who - she noted indignantly - was barely half her age.
Jubilee grunted, catching sight of a blue pelt some way up ahead and praying it was Kurt and not Initiate McCoy, the Master of Libraries. Just then, a hand fell on her shoulder, and she quickly turned to see Rahne Sinclair grinning at her, red pigtails bouncing as usual.
"Feeling the pressure a little?" she asked.
"Just slightly. I gotta catch up to Kitty and Kurt before they get lost. They don't know their way around properly yet. Some guide I'll be if I lose them on the first day."
Rahne smirked knowingly. "I don't know. If what I saw in the Great Hall is anything to go by, they may welcome being alone in each other's company for a while. At least, one of them might."
Jubilee paused a moment, letting the crowd wash around her. "You saw him too?"
For a moment, Rahne looked confused. "Him? I was talking about *her*. Didn't you see the look on Kitty's face when you and blue-boy were tickle-fighting?"
Jubilee had to admit that she hadn't. "I was kinda preoccupied with not getting covered in spittle at that point."
"Really? I could practically warm my hands on her face, it was so red. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so jealous. Except for Tabby, maybe." Rahne giggled; a light, musical sound.
Jubilee listened in surprise. "Kitty was jealous of *me*?"
"If the look on her face was anything to go by, yeah. Hey, how come you're smiling like that?"
"Because Kurt virtually turned green when he was looking at Kitty and Sam. He tried to cover it up, but I saw it anyway," Jubilee said through a smile that showed all of her teeth. She leaned in conspiratally. "Thing is, I don't think he recognized his feelings himself."
Rahne slapped her hands together and rubbed them, mischievousness evident in her green eyes. "Ooh, the plot thickens. D'ya reckon she knows about them?"
"I don't think so. Likewise with Kurt"
"Aah, sweet." Another giggle. "Think we should let them know?"
"Why? Probably better to let them figure it out on their own."
"Och, you're nae fun." The redhead pouted. Then she visibly brightened. "Maybe I'll just tell them anyway."
"You dare, Rahne!" Jubilee admonished, wagging a finger at her. "Leave them alone. If it really *is* something then one of them will say something. If not, you'll just be doing more harm than good by opening your big mouth."
"I wouldn't talk so loudly, if I were you," Rahne said flippantly.
Instantly, Jubilee became suspicious. She was well used to Rahne's pranks, which had - on occasion - outstripped her own. "Why not?"
"Because, motormouth, they're standing right over there." She pointed to the side of the corridor, where both Kitty and Kurt were pressed up against the wall, scanning the crowd for their absent escort.
Jubilee turned back to her grinning cohort, who just smiled innocently.
"Now who's got a big mouth, you great numpty?"
"Touché. Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Aye. See you later, Jubes. Looks like your two charges have somewhere in particular they wanna go. Hope you can keep your big mouth shut until you get there."
With this parting comment, the exuberant girl melted into the crowd and disappeared from sight. Jubilee watched her go incredulously.
_How the heck does she *do* that? I'm sure I had the upper hand for a minute there._
"Frauline! Jubilee, over here!"
Kurt's accented cries captured her attention once more, and, with a shake of her head, Jubilee fought her way over to he and Kitty. Kurt greeted her with his customary toothy beam.
"Thought we'd lost you for a moment there, Frauline."
"Yeah. You, like, totally had us worried. This is a big place to get lost in," Kitty quipped.
"Well now you found me, and it's time for me to give you guys the grand tour," said Jubilee, panting a little from her exertions. She straightened her robe and smoothed down her hair. "Any place in particular you wanna go?"
Kurt seemed hesitant for a second before speaking. "Well, now that you mention it, ja. There *is* somewhere I'd particularly like to visit."
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Initiate McCoy wasn't exactly the kind of person you'd expect to find in a library. Being seven feet tall, muscular, and covered in coarse blue fur, it was twice as bizarre to see him dressed in a flowing pink robe, walking about with a thick book constantly tucked under his arm and wire-framed eye-glasses perched precariously on his snout. In all, he made quite a peculiar picture.
However, what many people failed to realize was that behind this fearsome countenance was a lightening quick mind. The kind of mind that would have given the most intelligent scholars in all the realms a run for their money if they didn't run screaming from him in fright first.
Thus it was that Initiate McCoy - or Hank, as he preferred to be known - had become Master of Libraries at The Temple of The Way without competition from anyone else for the position. His intellect couldn't be matched within the walls of the temple - which was sometimes not such a good thing.
You see, Hank loved information and learning, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than a deep philosophical discussion with anyone who cared to hold one. However, since most of the temple dwellers considered his acumen 'out of their league', he rarely got the chance. Similarly, he adored explaining things, but the majority of folk couldn't understand his highbrow explanations, and instead avoided asking him questions if they could help it.
So it was with great pleasure that he regarded the two teenagers who stood before him now, asking to 'pick his brains' as one of them put it.
"I'd be delighted to help," he boomed. "Just tell me what you require and I'll happily elucidate."
The boy's face took on an expression of confusion. "Was sagten Sie?" He said in a heavy Germanic accent. "I'm sorry. My Common Tongue is not so good."
"He said, just tell him what you wanna know and he'll spill." The girl by his side swiftly elbowed him in the ribs for his rudeness.
Hank raised an eyebrow. Evidently, the Germanic boy was new. He should've guessed. Especially with that rather... atypical appearance. Yes, he definitely would have noticed someone like *that* before.
"Ach, ja. Now I understand," the boy said, rubbing his side ruefully and glaring daggers at the girl. Hank almost laughed at the pair of them. "Please excuse mein rudeness, Herr McCoy, but do you know anything about medical conditions?"
Hank smiled broadly. "My specialty. Science is my forte, dear boy. What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Shaking Sickness."
This time both of Hank's eyebrows rose as he abruptly realized to whom he was speaking. "You came in with that girl this morning, didn't you? The one who has Shaking Sickness and is now lying in the Infirmary?"
Both teenagers seemed shocked that he could so easily guess their purpose, despite not having been present when the bell was tolled that morning.
"How did you - " the girl began, momentarily forgetting her manners.
Hank tapped the side of his nose. "Initiate Ashari may be gifted, but she's still young, and not above seeking advice where she needs it." He pushed his glasses back up from where they had slipped down, expression thoughtful. "If it's Shaking Sickness you wish to know about, then I think I have just the thing. Come with me, please."
The adolescent pair obediently followed him as he made his way ploddingly through row upon row of tall, dusty bookshelves. They paced further and further into the sprawling temple libraries, until neither had the faintest idea where they were, or how to find their way out again without Hank's aid. In some places, his large feet left perceptible impressions in the dust that liberally coated the floor, signalling that they were now in territory that had not been occupied for many moons.
Kurt drew closer to Jubilee, whispering in the reverent tone that everyone seems to reserve for empty libraries. "Any idea where we are?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Not a clue. Personally, I think Kitty got the sweeter end of this deal by ducking out. I *hate* libraries at the best of times, and dust makes me sneeze."
Kurt flashed her a fanged grin. "Not an avid reader then?"
"Not when it's gonna bring on a sneezing fit." As if to emphasize her remark, her nose wrinkled and a loud sneeze suddenly rent the air.
"Gesundheit."
"Thanks." She sniffed loudly. "Although, by rights, this is your fault. It was *your* idea to come up here in the first place."
"Sorry, Frauline," the elf apologized, "but I just had to know what we're dealing with. What *Rogue* is dealing with. I just thought that perhaps if I knew a little more about her illness..."
"Say no more, Kurt. I understand." Jubilee sneezed again. "But my nose is gonna need a personal apology after this." She sniffled morosely. "Say, did Kitty tell *you* where she was going?"
"Nein, she didn't. Just said there was 'something she had to do', and she'd find us when she was finished with it."
"Any ideas?"
"Jawohl," Kurt responded, thinking about how Kitty had politely, but firmly excused herself, yet not needed a guide to escort her to her destination. "I have at least one idea where she's going."
"We're here," boomed a familiar baritone up ahead.
Kurt and Jubilee rounded the corner of a bookcase and nearly ran smack into Hank, who was standing staring up at a particularly lofty shelf of books.
"The text we seek is located somewhere up there." He gestured with one massive hand. "But as to its precise whereabouts, I'm afraid I'm a bit uncertain. It has been some time since I needed this particular volume." He started towards a rickety looking stepladder attached on runners to the side of the case.
Jubilee stepped in front of him. "Hey, whoa. No disrespect, Initiate McCoy, but you can't climb that thing. It's dangerous."
Hank nodded. "It does seem rather unstable, I'll admit. But you need that book, and I intend to get it for you. What sort of a Librarian would I be if I didn't?"
"Allow me, Herr McCoy." Kurt bounded forward. "I can fetch it easily if you just tell me where to look."
Hank appraised Kurt's slenderer frame, and cast another critical look up at the steps with regards to his own bulkiness. "Well, all right then. But be careful. The book you are looking for is entitled 'A Physician's Guide' by Lomex Saude. If I remember correctly, the cover is red with gold edges. It should be on the second from top shelf."
"Ich bin auf es." Kurt proclaimed, before vanishing in a puff of sulphurous smoke and collapsing light.
Hank blinked in surprise at the spot he'd vacated. "Amazing."
"You ain't seen nothing yet." Jubilee indicated upwards.
Hank turned to her. "What do you - "
He didn't have time to finish, as Kurt reappeared at the top of the stepladder. However, as with the 'Towel Incident', his landing still needed some work. He clung to the rungs upside down, staring at the two pink-robed onlookers as the blood began unexpectedly rushing to his head.
"I'm OK," he called. _At least I'm actually *on* the ladder._ Then he transferred his attention to the bookshelf in front of him - still upside down. His versatile feet and amazing toes gripped the aging stepladder as he searched for the elusive book, pulling out one, then another copy with his free hands, then returning each as the wrong one.
Eventually he found what he was looking for, and concentrated on the ground below. Another 'Bamf' later and he was back on the floor, this time right side up.
_I must be getting better,_ he thought to himself proudly, before handing 'A Physician's Guide' over to Initiate McCoy and allowing his light-headedness to clear.
Hank leafed purposefully through the substantial book, and then showed it to his audience of two. "Here we go. I believe this is the page you require."
Kurt took the tome from him, allowing Jubilee room to peer over his shoulder. Quickly his golden eyes inspected the delicately written script - Common, of course - digesting everything Lomax Saude had to say about Shaking Sickness. His heart sank a couple of notches with each sentence.
_*SACUDARIR-ENFERMEDAD*
'Commonly known as 'Shaking Sickness', this deadly disease is often elicited after being exposed to harsh conditions, and can affect anybody regardless of age or previous physical state. Symptoms vary, but often include any of the following: uncontrollable shivering, fever, intractable coughing, delirium, vomiting, internal bleeding and/or mental breakdown.
'It has been known that during Shaking Sickness, a victim may encase themselves within their own impenetrable mental fortress. That is to say, they are virtually catatonic, responding to no outside influences, and essentially trapped inside their own mind. Such cases are rare, but not unheard of, and are often the result of repressed memories reacting with the delirium caused by fever. If a sufferer does survive this, then there is usually lasting mental damage.
'Unless aided by a healer, victims of Sacudarir-Enfermedad rarely survive the illness. It has been likened in the past to a more powerful hybrid of Pneumonia and Pleurisy. Death usually occurs within a few days, but can be caused sooner by side effects such as ruptured lungs from extended coughing, asphyxiation, or as a result of complete mental shutdown. Unfortunately, without a healer, there is no known cure. Mortality rate is high, and there has not yet been a recorded incident of a victim recovering by themselves.'_
There was some more, but by this point Kurt's vision was clouded as he blinked unruly tears from his eyes. He heard Jubilee cover a sharp intake of breath as she too read the horrific fate awaiting Rogue should she fail to recover, and he could feel Initiate McCoy's sombre gaze boring into them. The Library Master had known about this. That's why he'd chosen to show them the book rather than tell them himself. Kurt let out a small sad sigh, and a few short words hitched in his throat as one solitary droplet escaped and trickled down his furry face.
"Oh, Rogue."
*******************
Teah was busily working when the knock at the door came. Soft and tentative, it was obvious that the person on the other side was hesitant to cross the threshold uninvited. The blonde child looked up from her work, half annoyed at the intrusion, half relieved at the distraction. She hadn't progressed much since her earlier interval, and was finding typical tasks burdensome and onerous to say the least.
"Enter," she called, voice still as clipped as usual.
The heavy door creaked ajar, and a pale face peeked through. Teah recognized it instantly.
"Yes? Is there something I can do for you?"
The owner of the face shrank back a little at her harsh tone. "Excuse me, Initiate Ashari, I'm not interrupting you am I?"
Teah snorted. "What's the point in asking senseless questions? Knocking at the door disturbed me already, so you might as well say your piece and disturb me further." Her quill tapped irritably on the tabletop. "Well? Are you going to stand out there all day? Come in, girl!"
Hastily the door opened a sliver more, and Kitty slid into the Infirmary before closing it behind her. Warily, she observed the small girl perched at the desk, blue eyes flickering inadvertently over to the rows of evil-tasting tonic she'd been forced to swallow earlier. Her stomach quailed at the memory, and she swallowed several times before speaking.
"Sorry. I... I just wanted to see Rogue. If that's possible?"
Teah regarded her for a second, before sighing and jerking a thumb over her shoulder. Kitty looked to see a row of beds, all of them neatly made up, save for one. Gratefully, the teenager muttered her thanks to the miniature healer, and walked quickly towards the lump contained therein.
"But I warn you, it's not a pretty sight," Teah called after her, bending over the mound of papers once more.
Kitty heard, but didn't reply. Steeling herself, and taking a deep breath for strength, she went to Rogue's bedside and cautiously peered down.
If possible, Rogue looked even worse than Kitty had imagined - and she'd imagined pretty bad. The piebald hair was damp with perspiration, and clung to her forehead in great clumps and knots. Rivulets of sweat ran freely onto the pillow, and Kitty didn't have to touch to know that both it and the sheets were drenched. Rogue's ashen skin had faded to near translucency, veins bulbous and pulsating repulsively, and her eyes appeared sunken and dead within her skull. Every now and then they'd flicker open as an accompaniment to her incessantly moving mouth; but the green revealed beneath was dull and unfocused, as if seeing beyond the reality of the Infirmary. Past it, into something only she was privy to.
Kitty stifled a gasp. She'd never seen Rogue look so... helpless. Even when dangling upside down in the death grip of a Displacer Beast's tentacle, she'd always been surrounded by an aura of control. An aura that now seemed shattered and fragmented, running away from her in tiny droplets of bodily fluid. It was almost enough to make her nauseous. That and the swell of memories, which bubbled to the surface at the all-too-familiar sight of a stricken face.
Kitty nearly yelped as something grasped hold of her shoulder. She turned to look up into Initiate Ashari's eyes, not even realized until that moment that she'd sunk to her knees.
"You OK?" asked the healer.
Kitty gulped and nodded.
A wry expression twisted Teah's lips. "Don't lie. I can sense something's amiss."
Kitty slumped onto her heels. "I... I never..." she began, and then stopped, took a deep breath, and started again. "I never thought it would be this bad. She looks so... so weird. Almost like a different person."
"Yes. *Almost*," Teah reminded her. "But remember, whatever this may look like, it's still your friend in there. Below the surface."
Rogue coughed, eyelids snapping back for a second with a faint but desperate whisper. "Don't go! Please, don't leave me!"
Kitty jerked forward, out of Teah's grasp, but the ex-assassin fluttered back into unconsciousness once more.
Unbidden, hot tears stung the backs of Kitty's eyes, threatening to leak onto her cheeks. She couldn't *bear* it. Despite all the threats, all the insults, the intimidation and potential violence, Kitty balked to see Rogue reduced to such a pitiful state. She was *The* Rogue. The strong, unbendable Rogue, who'd taken on the might of the Guild and was winning. She was the only one ever to break with their ancient tradition; the girl who chose her own path instead of meekly following the route laid down for her generations ago, wailing and tossing in a sickbed, sweating her life away. For Kitty, it was too horribly familiar. Too reminiscent of her own parents' deaths. The younger girl bit her lip hard, and a coppery tang spread across her tongue. Blood.
Blood.
Blood on the wood.
Suddenly, cool hands pressed themselves to her temples. Kitty started, but relaxed as Teah's voice, strangely gentle, floated into her ear.
"Shhh. Hush, now. Hush."
At once, a balmy sensation seemed to flow into her head. It leaked out of Teah's massaging fingertips, making its way through her fervent brain and soothing the tension there. Calming her. Helping her to deal with the upsurge of painful memories.
The hands removed themselves. "Better now?" Teah asked.
Kitty nodded. "Much. But you shouldn't have wasted your powers on me. You're supposed to be conserving them."
The fair-headed child shook her head. "Had to. You were sailing dangerously close to hysteria just then. Who knows what kind of damage you could've done if you'd actually fallen into it? Might even have ended up in a bed here yourself. A great help to your friend *that* would be."
"I suppose..." Kitty admitted. She looked back at Rogue, who lay twitching. Oblivious to the world around her. "I just wish there was something I could *do*. I mean, I know I can't do anything, like, medically; but I wish..." She trailed off. "I wish..."
Teah glanced at her sharply.
Kitty rocked back, expression thoughtful, before asking; "Where did they put them?"
"Where did *who* put *what*?"
"Rogue's armour. I had it with me when I arrived. Where is it?"
Teah scratched her head. Things had been so busy when The Rogue was brought in; it had been difficult to concentrate on anything else. But still... "I think one of the Underlings put it away. I was preoccupied at the time, but I *think* he put it..."
Purposefully she strode across the room, a vague scuffling telling her Kitty had scrambled to her feet to follow.
Beneath the window Sam had entered via that morning was a large, open-top chest of dubious origin and material. It was rarely used, since the lid was so heavy it took three people to shift it, but if Teah's memory served her correctly, then Underling Frederick would have had no problem with something like that; and - not being the most intelligent person in Earth-Realm - he wouldn't have foreseen what opening it again later would entail for people not imbued with super-strength.
"It *should* be in here," she remarked as Kitty joined her side, "but a lot of good that'll do you. I doubt either of us can move that lid on our own. You'd have to call one other person to help us, at least."
"No need." Kitty rolled up her sleeves. Teah quirked an eyebrow, wondering what she was up to.
Kitty closed her eyes and concentrated, summoning the abilities she'd so recently gained control of. They came to her mental grasp, quicker than before, thus proving her increased power over them. Apparently the adage 'practice makes perfect' was true after all.
Opening her eyes, she plunged both arms through, and into the chest up to her elbows. Teah goggled for a moment, and Kitty recalled idly that she'd probably been unaware as to what her Changeling powers actually were before now. Yet her own attention was divided.
_Now comes the tricky part,_ she thought. _Making sure I don't, like, phase right through the armour without even noticing it's there._
She concentrated, willing her fingers to become solid flesh again, but not the rest of her arms. Her unyielding hands fumbled around for a moment, until they came to rest on something cold and hard. One knuckle-rap against it elicited a distinctly metallic clink, barely audible through the thick chest. She probably wouldn't have heard it at all had her ear not been virtually pressed to the wood.
_Got it!_
Carefully, she gripped her prize tightly, willing her fingers not to pass straight through the metal. It was certainly heavy enough, and she marvelled at how she'd carried it so far from the river without collapsing sooner. After a few painstaking minutes, it was successfully dragged through the side of the chest, to land with a hollow 'clunk' on the wooden floor.
Kitty released it with relief, wiping her brow where beads of concentration-induced sweat had manifested. Her cheeks were red, her breath short, and her mind ached with effort, but she felt satisfied.
_At least I'm, like, getting better at the whole self-control thing._
Teah drew closer with an admiring whistle. "Nice work. A little unorthodox for my tastes, but nice."
"Thanks. I think."
Kitty's gaze fell critically upon Rogue's armour. She knelt down beside it, questing with her hands for something in particular. Eventually she found it, and with a hollow 'snikt', drew Rogue's sword out of its scabbard. It gleamed drearily in the sunlight from the window, sheen dulled by the coating of red smeared and dried across it. The Changeling twisted it this way and that, holding the blade upright to get a better look, and noting that the crimson coating spread down and onto the hilt and pommel.
"Watch what you're doing with that, girl," Teah warned. "That's a dangerous weapon, not some toy to be waved about without regard."
Yet Kitty wasn't listening. "This is terrible!" she cried in dismay.
"What is?"
"This!"
"What?"
"*This*!" Kitty answered irritably. "Can't you see?"
"I can see, all right. I just don't understand what you mean. *What* is so terrible?" Teah demanded, exasperation clear in her young voice.
Kitty didn't even spare her a look, instead lowering the sword blade and running one hand along the flat of it. Flakes of red came away on her skin, and floated to the floor. "Rogue once told me that, according to Guild Lore, an assassin's sword contains part of his or her spirit. A tiny portion of soul woven into the metal. It only happens when a true warrior holds the sword; someone truly at home with a blade. If you'd ever seen Rogue in battle, you'd know the real meaning of 'swordsmanship'. She doesn't seem whole without a weapon in her hand, and handles it so well it seems like just an extension of her arm." She stared up at Teah, eyes shining. "Now I know how I can help her."
Teah frowned, bemused by the ostensibly incoherent babble. "What are you talking about? How are you going to help her?" _Foolish girl. Sounds like gibberish to me. Souls in swords? Folklore, and nothing more._
"By cleaning her sword," Kitty stated triumphantly.
Now Teah was well and truly lost. "Excuse me? How in the names of all the gods is cleaning a bit of metal going to help her recover from Shaking Sickness?"
Kitty sighed. "It's hard to explain. The way I see it, Rogue's spirit - or at least part of it - is contained within the fabric of her sword. As long as the blood of the Displacer Beast taints it, her spirit's also incapacitated with the side effects her fight with the creature caused. It's, like, symbolic. Her spirit is trapped by the beast's blood, and Rogue is trapped by the sickness she got fighting the same beast. So, if I remove the blood, then I'll be removing the symbolic barrier trapping her soul, which may help her to heal. It makes perfect sense when you think about it."
Teah had heard enough. "I've never heard anything so ludicrous in all my life! I don't see how polishing just one strip of dirty metal can possibly aid a sick girl's health. It's impossible!"
Kitty's jaw set. "It may not seem like much to you, but believe me, it'd mean so much to her. She never *ever* left her sword dirty after she'd used it. It was like she just *couldn't*. So I'm going to carry on what she started."
"But it's just one sword - "
"Then I'll clean her dagger as well. And her knife. And the rest of her armour. I'll polish it all, and make it shine like it never shone before, because *I* know that it'll make a difference. If not physically, then spiritually."
Teah stared at the sullen teenager, who glared back at her with unconcealed vehemence.
_She *really* believes this is going to work. Such a stupid notion. I've never heard anything so ridiculous._
Kitty continued to glower, as if challenging the healer to dispute her feelings more. Teah looked irritably into her eyes, and saw with surprise a conviction there she'd rarely seen in others. It was so strong, and sparkled so profusely in those two blue orbs that, for a second, she could have been gazing at Ororo herself. It was the exact same conviction held in the Temple Mother's gaze when she made a decision about something; the same certainty that she was right. Teah blinked, momentarily bemused; but when she looked back, there was only a surly teenage girl clutching a soiled sword once more.
Teah sighed, and turned to go. Kitty's head drooped tiredly, but snapped up again as the healer called over one shoulder:
"Come on. I've got some old bandages over here you can use as rags. They're made of coarse fibres, so they should scrub the dried blood and dirt off nicely."
Kitty's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this odd change of heart, but she didn't push her luck by ignoring the offer. Instead, she hauled herself to her feet and tottered behind the Initiate, ready to begin the arduous task she'd set herself.
"Thank you."
"Meh," was the only response she received.
It was as Teah fumbled around in a drawer - which, by rights, had been designed for a taller person to reach - that Rogue screamed. Kitty nearly jumped out of her skin, but instead backed into Teah, whose head then crashed against the bottom of the drawer, sending the medical contents of it sprawling across the floorboards. Teah cursed under her breath, revealing a blue vocabulary far beyond her tender years.
Kitty stared, yelping, as Rogue proceeded to screech again; an unearthly sound, like a howl of pain mixed with the death-cry of some poor suffering beast. It grated across their eardrums and reverberated inside their skulls, refusing to go away.
"What... what's going on?" Kitty stuttered, clamping her hands down over her ears. "Why's she screaming like that? What's wrong with her?"
Teah rubbed at her scalp where a sizable lump was now appearing. Boy, was she going to feel *that* one in the morning. "A side-effect of the fever, I'm afraid. She's been doing that on and off for the past couple of hours. Sometimes it lasts for quite a few minutes. Last time I had to get Frederick to hold her down, she was thrashing about so much." Her eyes narrowed "That said, I'd better call him again. He's the only one who can deal with her like this without fear of being hurt. Virtually indestructible, is Frederick," she said by way of explanation at Kitty's confused expression.
"Then... then this is, like, *normal*?"
"As normal as you can get when you're delirious from Shaking Sickness." Teah winced as her fingers found a particularly painful spot, and mentally resolved to leave the bump alone until it went down.
"B-but it's so horrible." Kitty shivered. "She sounds in pain."
As if to emphasize this, Rogue screamed again. Her cry ripped through the air, not needing words to communicate the anguish in it.
"Probably because she is," Teah replied dispassionately. "I believe this is a reaction to the delirium her mind has trapped itself within. She's reprocessing past events and machinations to the point where they cause her actual, physical harm."
"Huh? In Common Tongue, please."
Teah sighed. Honestly, teenagers expected everything spelled out to them syllable by syllable. The irony of the situation seemed to escape her entirely.
"The way I figure it, your friend is experiencing images and thoughts that affect her so much they have transferred themselves to a physical state. In short, the more she thinks about them, the more they hurt her body in the real world. They could be anything. Fears - "
"Rogue doesn't have any fears. She's... well, she's The Rogue."
Teah glared at her. "Everyone has fears. *Everyone*. Or they could be nightmares she's dreamt in the past. They could even be repressed memories; events she's been trying to forget, but have pushed their way to the forefront of her mind now that she has no control over keeping them in check."
"But that's awful." Kitty exclaimed again, horrified. She thought of all the things Rogue must have done during her life as an assassin. True, that life was over for her now, but still, the memories would remain...
_All those people she killed on missions. And some of the things she must have seen in the war-torn lands she visited. Poor Rogue. Nobody should have to see that once, let alone over and over again._
"Isn't there anything we can, like, do? I mean; we can't just leave her like that. It's inhumane and cruel if it's hurting her."
"There's nothing we *can* do," Teah said matter-of-factly. "I can give her herbs to ease the pain, but I can't stop what's happening inside her mind. That's telepaths' territory, not mine, and they can't do anything because of the mental barriers she's set up. It's a vicious circle. We can't get in to help her, and she can't get out to help herself until the fever breaks, which could be any time between now and the next time the moon waxes full."
Rogue yelped, striking empty air with a clenched fist, as she battled some unseen opponent. Kitty edged closer to the fallen girl, but stayed on the periphery, so as not be hit by a flailing limb. Rogue's eyelids were clenched, and her jaw was set like steel. Beads of sweat flew into the air as she lashed against the saturated sheets. It made the Changeling's kind heart wrench not to be able to help. Instinctively, she reached out and snagged one of the whirling hands, wrapping her own fingers comfortingly into the ex-assassin's clammy ones in a way she never would have had courage to do had Rogue been awake.
"You're sure there's, like, nothing I can do to help her? Nothing at all?"
"Nothing," came the firm answer.
Kitty gazed at Rogue, both saddened and confused by the remorseful feeling she felt for the girl who'd been so violent towards her. Rogue had never welcomed Kitty's presence, but fought valiantly to save her life anyway. The mark of a true warrior. And friend.
Friend?
_Is that what you are to me now, Rogue? A friend?_ Kitty wondered. _Would you see it that way? I don't know what to think any more. Friendship just isn't a word I'd associate with someone like you; someone so harsh. But still... the way you were with Kurt when his Mom died...
_Oh, I wish I knew what was going on inside your mind, Rogue, so that I could help you. Stupid, I know, since you don't even *like* me. But I need to repay you for what you've done. I want to say thank you, somehow... someway. Whatever's happening in there, whatever memories you're reliving or whatever, you have to know that Kurt and I will be here for you. We owe you our lives, Rogue, and we're not going to just sit idly by and let yours slip away from because of it, you hear. We're gonna, like, keep hoping, no matter what._
A defiant whisper escaped her lips, as her fingers tightened around the stricken girl's hand. Her knuckles bleached, and for a second her eyes became flinty and grey - not at all like their normal blue. They flickered only an instant, darkening to a blackish tinge, and then switched back to their usual colouring; but the whisper hung on the air, almost tangible in the tense atmosphere, and filled with such a sense of promise as to almost seen unnatural.
"No matter *what*!"
*******************
To Be Continued...
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*TRANSLATIONS*
GERMANIC
Durch alle Götter in den Himmeln! ~ By all the gods in the sky!
Was sagten Sie? ~ What did you say?
Ich bin auf es! ~ I'm on it!
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film project, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* those movies. Influences rather include InterNutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
_Hello_ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I think it's pretty much a given now that I have to apologise whever I update for my slowness in doing so. So from now on, just pretend I did it, and we can all get on with things that much quicker.
Many thanks to all who reviewed, and especially to those who left longer pieces of feedback. Ask me questions, please! I *like* answering questions, especially pertaining to the Earth Realm universe. There are so many useless bits and pieces about it I had to come up with but which shall never get mentioned in this fic because they're superfluous to the plot. Damn. *Sigh* Glad to see someone liking the Tabby interludes, though. Tabby is actually one of my preferred characters, but she kind of demands to be written a certain way, which can be taken incorrectly by some people. If I look like I'm mistreating anyone, I'm not. Chances are, if they're bad-tempered, un-likeable and mean, they're my favourites.
Look out for some more cameos in this chapter, or mentions of future cameos. I'll just say in advance that this was written last year, before I saw season two and had any idea what some characters - and their accents - were like. I worked mainly from the old animated TV show of the early nineties, which means a few accents are codified (read: mangled) in such a manner as I wouldn't dream of doing nowadays.
And just in answer to the question, 'what happened to Remy?' I honestly don't know. I haven't mentioned him anywhere. Did he sneak in? Did I forget to lock the door again? Is he even *in* this fic? Um... no. Guess I should just nip this one in the bud now instead of unfairly stringing people along. Remy will, in all likelihood, not make an appearance in this fic. He may be mentioned - I don't know on that front, I haven't finished it yet - but he won't be seen. I *did* have plans to use him in a punitive sequel, but now I'm not sure that's ever going to get written thanks to other commitments and my magpie-like nature where fanfiction is concerned. I get sidetracked by other projects easily.
Sorry all you Cajun fans out there, but frankly, I'm sick of Romy. I used to really, really like it, and in the canon I'd still go for it, but I'm just not in any mood to write any of my own right now. Apologies.
In other news, please check out the other multi-chapter Evo fic I have on the go right now, entitled 'Judgment Day'. It's a co-written project by me and several other good, solid Evo authors (including Yma and InterNutter amongst others), and deals with a post-apocalyptic landscape brought on by human intolerance to Mutantkind, and vice versa. Remy *does* make an appearance in that one, and there's lots of Elf mixed in there. Please go and review it. You'd make many authors very happy.
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'Of Beast and Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Thirteen ~ 'Amity'
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'When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate now knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.' -- Henri Nouwen, 'Out of Solitude'
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Kurt's mouth hung open in shock. His golden eyes scanned the table before him incredulously, and a small gob of saliva began running down his furry chin.
"Durch alle Götter in den Himmeln!" he murmured.
In front of him, and also still being doled out by several Underlings and Initiates pottering about the long wooden tables and benches, was a veritable feast the likes of which he'd never known and hadn't had the presence of mind to even dream about.
Changelings and other colourful folk hurried around the Great Hall carrying large loaves and knives. They paused at each place and cut a thick wedge of bread, setting it before the seated person as his or her trencher, on which the food would be served. There simply weren't enough dishes in the temple for everyone to have one; and since all were reputed to be equal, it had been agreed long ago that nobody would have one, and instead would use trenchers that could be eaten afterwards.
The slice set before Kurt had been coloured green, with parsley, for extra flair. Nearby were pats of butter and soft cheese, from which his sensitive nose detected a not-unpleasant odour. It was all first-rate fare. The bread was fine and soft, with a rich crispy crust. The butter was smooth, and the cheese possessed an unusual salty tang he'd never tasted before in the hard, chewy stuff he was used to.
Next to him, Jubilee shot the elf a cheerful look. "Shut your mouth, or you might catch flies in it."
Kurt's jaws snapped together with a hollow click. "Entschuldigung, but I've never seen so much food all in one place. Is this whole slice for me?"
She laughed. "Of course it is, stupid. Who did you think it was for? You can spread the butter and cheese on it to if you like. But be careful, don't eat it all now, or you won't have anything to put the rest on later."
Kurt's eyes grew round like moons. "There's *more*?"
Jubilee laughed again and tapped the side of her nose, before taking a knife and lathering her trencher in cheese. Kurt simply stared. He thought of the tough, dark, heavy bread at home, with its scant scraping of butter. How long ago that seemed now. Almost like a different lifetime.
"Hey, Kurt!"
He swivelled his head round to see Kitty, some way down the table on the opposite side to himself and Jubilee. Because of their late arrival, they hadn't been able to all sit together, and Kurt had found himself perched at the end, whilst Kitty was right in the middle of the bench. She waved at him, smiling.
"Looks good, huh?"
"Ja," he replied, barely holding his salivating in check. "Good enough to eat, in fact."
The figure next to Kitty heard him and called back; "Ah wouldn't recommend it jus' yet. Else, with no trencher, ya'll have to cup ya hands fer the rest." He grinned good-naturedly, blond shaggy hair flopping into his eyes. Kurt recognized him as the tall southern youth who'd flown Rogue up to the Infirmary so spectacularly when they first arrived. "Ah'm Sam," he introduced himself. "Sam Guthrie. Formerly of the Southern Realms."
"Kurt. Formerly of the Black Forest."
"Ah well know who y'are," Sam replied, before turning to Kitty. "An' you, pretty missy. Ya'll are quite famous 'round here."
Kitty blushed slightly at the compliment. "Really? But we just, like, got here this morning. And this place is huge. How can people already know who we are?"
"Hey, when there are telepaths around, nothing stays secret for long," the girl on Kitty's other side piped up. Her short red bunches bounced flamboyantly as she stuck out her hand for Kitty to shake. "Name's Rahne Sinclair, but you can call me Rahne."
"Thanks. I think," said Kitty warily, taking the proffered hand. The forthright redhead chuckled.
"Besides, if anyone has a private meeting with the Temple Mother then word gets out *extra* extra fast. She doesn't give them very often, so gossip hounds just love stuff like that."
Kitty blinked. "You mean Ororo?"
"Wow, she's on first name terms already." Sam whistled. "Most of us call her Temple Mother. As a mark of respect, see?"
"Hey, uh, Sam?" Kurt interrupted. "There was something I wanted to say earlier, but I never got the chance. Um... I just wanted to tell you... thanks. For what you did for our fr... that girl we were with."
The lofty boy waved a hand, brushing Kurt's thanks aside. "Think nuthin' of it. Ah wuz jus' doin' mah duty. Would've done it fer anyone."
Jubilee joined in the conversation that stretched across the width of the table. "Stop being so humble, Sam Guthrie. Initiate Ashari said herself that the girl would've died if you hadn't got her to the Infirmary so fast. You're a hero."
Now it was Sam's turn to blush. "Well, when ya put it like that..."
"We *do* put it like that, Mr. Guthrie - " Kitty claimed his attention again, but he cut her off.
"Please, jus' call me Sam. I ain't much older than you, I'd wager, but calling me 'Mr. Guthrie' makes me feel like an ancient."
"Sorry. Sam, you really are a hero. Ro - that girl," Kitty hurriedly corrected herself, hoping that nobody would notice her slip of the tongue. There was still no guarantee what the reaction would be to Rogue's true identity, and Kitty didn't want to be the one responsible for causing more trouble; "would most certainly be dead now if it wasn't for you. We're both very grateful."
Rahne gave a mischievous grin. "Ooh, Sam. Sounds like you got yourself an admirer."
Both Sam and Kitty's cheeks coloured, and the boy hissed out of the side of his mouth: "Shuddup, Rahne."
Rahne giggled at their reaction, wolf whistling, and Jubilee joined in. Yet somehow, Kurt didn't find it funny. However, rather than lose face, he laughed alongside his newfound companions; but it was strangely forced. Inside, something stirred within his gut. Some emotion he'd never experienced before, and so couldn't properly identify. It gnawed at him as he watched Kitty and Sam's twin blushes, but still he couldn't understand what it was. All he knew was that it was extremely unpleasant.
How odd. He'd never had trouble laughing before.
His discomfort was forgotten, however, as two of the Changelings serving the food returned to their table with a large cooking pot carried between them. They struggled to each place, refusing help and ladling its contents onto each person's trencher with care so that nothing leaked off onto the table.
Kurt leaned back, as onto his bread was served a meat pudding in a suet crust, with slices of spicy sausage around it. The clouds of scented steam rising from it filled his sensitive nostrils, and his mouth began to water in anticipation. Around him people were eating heartily, and the elf dug in with great gusto.
Jubilee watched as he smacked his lips, food disappearing down his throat at a tremendous rate.
"Whoa, there. You'll give yourself a tummy-ache," she warned.
"Not me, Fraulein," Kurt retorted, patting his slender frame where she supposed his stomach must be located. "I can't get it in me fast enough. This food ist wunderbar!"
She nodded in agreement. "I must admit, we don't usually have such fare this early in the day. As a rule, we have a smaller meal at lunch, and the larger one in the evening. The Temple Mother must have arranged things specially for you and your weird met... metab... that thing where you faint if you don't eat enough."
"Metabolism," Kurt finished for her, repeating the word Rogue had said outside the gates of Zanninsa.
"Yeah, that."
Kurt paused in his compulsory gluttony. "Ororo could really do that? Rearrange the timetable just for one person?"
"Hey, she's the Temple Mother. She can do almost anything around here. People would willingly jump off buildings if she told them to," the oriental girl replied. "Luckily, she's too sensible to do anything like that."
"Wow," Kurt murmured, a driblet of grease trickling down his chin as he digested what she'd said along with his food. "Ororo has that much power around here?"
"And more besides," Jubilee said with the air of one who knows, but isn't going to divulge just how they came across their information. "You don't get to be Temple Mother unless you have the ability to protect the temple. The job requires more than just brains - although they're real important too."
Kurt thought about this for a moment, and a cryptic comment the dark skinned woman had made earlier abruptly popped back into his head. He frowned, contemplating it and what she'd meant, but never explained.
_'I'm not a Changeling. But I'm not exactly human, either.' What did Ororo mean by that, I wonder? She certainly looks like a human. And she must have *some* kind of special powers, or else she wouldn't *be* the Temple Mother. But if she's not human, and she's not a Changeling... then what *is* she?_
A hand waved in front of his face, and Kurt nearly fell off his chair, as he was startled out of his thoughts.
"Yoo-hoo, reality to Kurt," Jubilee quipped. "You feeling OK? You kinda zoned out for a bit there."
"Entschuldigung," Kurt hastily apologized. "I was just thinking. Fraulein, can you explain something to me? Just exactly what people *is* Ororo from? I could sense an awful lot of power in her, but she said point blank that she's not a Changeling."
Jubilee nodded. "As far as any of us are aware, she's not. But I'm afraid I can't answer your question, Kurt. I don't rightly know what Ororo is. A while ago some of us played with the idea that she must be some kind of mage - "
"A mage, jawohl," he interjected. "Magic like that would definitely explain the strange power I could sense."
"Except that she can't be."
Kurt frowned. "Why not? It makes perfect sense."
Jubilee sighed. "You obviously don't know much about mages and magicians. Mages have to use objects like precious stones, staffs and wands to channel their magic. Ororo doesn't have anything like that, and from what I've heard, she doesn't need it either. Plus, mages have to drain their magic sometimes when too much of it stores up inside them. This means a big firework display, or some other kind of similar outburst. But nobody - and I mean *nobody*; not even the Initiates who've been here for *years* - can ever remember Ororo having to do anything like that."
"So... if she's not a mage, then what is she?"
Jubilee shrugged. "You got me."
Kurt fell back into quiet speculation, and the conversation was effectively killed as both he and Jubilee returned to their food.
In what seemed like no time at all, Kurt's trencher was clear. Mere moments later, Jubilee's was the same - although, hers wasn't quite as picked clean as the elf's, but near enough. Kurt raised an eyebrow at her.
"You sure you haven't got a high metabolism too? You put it away fast enough."
"Nah. Just a good appetite," she replied, smiling.
"That's a good thing," a new voice stated from over her shoulder, "because here's the next course."
The grinning Underlings with the cooking pot were back, making their way along the rows with yet more fodder. This time, however, they were also refilling any cups that needed topping up with water - a welcome thing to those tender tongues who were feeling the after effects of the spicy sausage.
Kurt eagerly watched them dole out his portion of food, mouth becoming a miniature waterfall, and vaguely heard Kitty exclaim from somewhere down the table: "Man, I'm like, totally full. I don't think I can eat any more."
"Aw, just a little bit. Fer me, pretty missy. Ah wuz on kitchen duty today, so this wuz all made by mah own fair hands."
A burst of light giggling. "Well, since you asked so nice, Mr. Guthrie."
"Sam. Just Sam, kitten."
Something bubbled and gurgled inside Kurt's gut again at the sound of Kitty and Sam's idle banter, and somehow he knew it wasn't his stomach's call for more food. His eyes strayed to where they sat, and inadvertently he frowned deeply, not noticing a curious look elicited next to him by doing so.
Dutifully, he ate the third course: poached cod, caught that morning from one of the temple ponds, in a thick pottage of spiced vegetables. Yet he barely remembered its flavour afterwards. His tongue felt thick, and though he gulped down smaller mouthfuls to compensate this, pieces of fish still got caught in the back of his throat - which felt rather constricted itself, when he thought about it.
How very odd.
Not able to properly identify what was causing this strange reaction, Kurt made an educated guess and put it down to worry for Rogue. Guilt washed over him as he realized how little he'd thought of her since his earlier audience with Ororo and Initiate Ashari, and as he summoned her back to his mind, he couldn't help fresh worry blossoming. How was she doing? Was she going to be OK? Would they let him see her later?
More than once his gaze slid across to the spiral staircase that he knew led to the Infirmary, which was just visible through the huge double doors they'd entered the Great Hall through from the corridor outside. His gaze was troubled. Noticeably so.
Jubilee saw him and, guessing his train of thought, laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she whispered reassuringly. "She'll be fine. Just keeping believing that, and she'll be OK. Positive thinking. It works wonders, trust me."
Kurt swivelled his head around. "You think so?"
Jubilee shook her head, expression grave, and for an instant his face fell.
"I know so."
It took a moment for her joke to sink in, but when it did, Kurt gave her his trademark grin and playfully pushed her hand away. "Danke schon, Frauline."
"Any time, fuzz-butt."
He laughed, popping another mouthful of pottage into his ever-ready maw and chewing vigorously. Flecks of carrot sprayed around his fangs as he continued to chuckle, and Jubilee pulled a face and good-humouredly poked him in the chest.
"Eew! Say it, don't spray it, Kurt! I wanna eat my lunch, not wear yours."
"Sorry, Frauline. I'll try not to waste it on you. It's too good for that."
"Too good? Why you little - "
The two erupted into peals of laughter, as Jubilee proceeded to lunge at Kurt, tickling him as best she could through the folds of his robe. Kurt tried to keep a straight face, but failed as she discovered a particularly ticklish spot beneath his arm. He exploded into a fit of giggles, sending a glob of half-chewed onion sailing through the air to land with a faint 'splot' on the floor. The unexpected missile was greeted by exclamations from the other Underlings at their table.
"Eew, gross!"
"Who did that?"
"Good aim, whoever it was."
"Good aim? I got sprayed as it went over. Yuk!"
"It's a good look for you."
"Oh yeah?"
Laughter spread down the rows like wildfire, as it was wont to do among contented people. Some laughed without really knowing what they were laughing at; others were genuinely amused at Kurt and Jubilee's antics. In fact, very few didn't share in this spirit of good feeling. Mainly the older, more stoic members of the temple, whose faces - some of the Underlings joked - would probably crack if they ever attempted a smile.
Eventually, the meal was over, and those assigned to kitchen duty - amongst them, Sam - dutifully rose from their places, collected together all the dishes they could carry, and made their way to the kitchens to begin the washing up. Everyone else waited until their table was dismissed, before also rising and filing out of the Great Hall to return to their chores for the afternoon.
As the single file deteriorated into a mass of milling people in the corridor, Kurt quickly made his way over to Kitty's side. Jubilee hurried to catch up with them, but found herself cut off by a swarm of chuckling Underlings.
"Hey, move along will ya? I'm gonna lose them," she muttered, pushing and shoving against the horde of moving bodies that seemed intent on taking her in the wrong direction.
"Move along yerself," shot back a cheeky boy, who - she noted indignantly - was barely half her age.
Jubilee grunted, catching sight of a blue pelt some way up ahead and praying it was Kurt and not Initiate McCoy, the Master of Libraries. Just then, a hand fell on her shoulder, and she quickly turned to see Rahne Sinclair grinning at her, red pigtails bouncing as usual.
"Feeling the pressure a little?" she asked.
"Just slightly. I gotta catch up to Kitty and Kurt before they get lost. They don't know their way around properly yet. Some guide I'll be if I lose them on the first day."
Rahne smirked knowingly. "I don't know. If what I saw in the Great Hall is anything to go by, they may welcome being alone in each other's company for a while. At least, one of them might."
Jubilee paused a moment, letting the crowd wash around her. "You saw him too?"
For a moment, Rahne looked confused. "Him? I was talking about *her*. Didn't you see the look on Kitty's face when you and blue-boy were tickle-fighting?"
Jubilee had to admit that she hadn't. "I was kinda preoccupied with not getting covered in spittle at that point."
"Really? I could practically warm my hands on her face, it was so red. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so jealous. Except for Tabby, maybe." Rahne giggled; a light, musical sound.
Jubilee listened in surprise. "Kitty was jealous of *me*?"
"If the look on her face was anything to go by, yeah. Hey, how come you're smiling like that?"
"Because Kurt virtually turned green when he was looking at Kitty and Sam. He tried to cover it up, but I saw it anyway," Jubilee said through a smile that showed all of her teeth. She leaned in conspiratally. "Thing is, I don't think he recognized his feelings himself."
Rahne slapped her hands together and rubbed them, mischievousness evident in her green eyes. "Ooh, the plot thickens. D'ya reckon she knows about them?"
"I don't think so. Likewise with Kurt"
"Aah, sweet." Another giggle. "Think we should let them know?"
"Why? Probably better to let them figure it out on their own."
"Och, you're nae fun." The redhead pouted. Then she visibly brightened. "Maybe I'll just tell them anyway."
"You dare, Rahne!" Jubilee admonished, wagging a finger at her. "Leave them alone. If it really *is* something then one of them will say something. If not, you'll just be doing more harm than good by opening your big mouth."
"I wouldn't talk so loudly, if I were you," Rahne said flippantly.
Instantly, Jubilee became suspicious. She was well used to Rahne's pranks, which had - on occasion - outstripped her own. "Why not?"
"Because, motormouth, they're standing right over there." She pointed to the side of the corridor, where both Kitty and Kurt were pressed up against the wall, scanning the crowd for their absent escort.
Jubilee turned back to her grinning cohort, who just smiled innocently.
"Now who's got a big mouth, you great numpty?"
"Touché. Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Aye. See you later, Jubes. Looks like your two charges have somewhere in particular they wanna go. Hope you can keep your big mouth shut until you get there."
With this parting comment, the exuberant girl melted into the crowd and disappeared from sight. Jubilee watched her go incredulously.
_How the heck does she *do* that? I'm sure I had the upper hand for a minute there._
"Frauline! Jubilee, over here!"
Kurt's accented cries captured her attention once more, and, with a shake of her head, Jubilee fought her way over to he and Kitty. Kurt greeted her with his customary toothy beam.
"Thought we'd lost you for a moment there, Frauline."
"Yeah. You, like, totally had us worried. This is a big place to get lost in," Kitty quipped.
"Well now you found me, and it's time for me to give you guys the grand tour," said Jubilee, panting a little from her exertions. She straightened her robe and smoothed down her hair. "Any place in particular you wanna go?"
Kurt seemed hesitant for a second before speaking. "Well, now that you mention it, ja. There *is* somewhere I'd particularly like to visit."
*******************
Initiate McCoy wasn't exactly the kind of person you'd expect to find in a library. Being seven feet tall, muscular, and covered in coarse blue fur, it was twice as bizarre to see him dressed in a flowing pink robe, walking about with a thick book constantly tucked under his arm and wire-framed eye-glasses perched precariously on his snout. In all, he made quite a peculiar picture.
However, what many people failed to realize was that behind this fearsome countenance was a lightening quick mind. The kind of mind that would have given the most intelligent scholars in all the realms a run for their money if they didn't run screaming from him in fright first.
Thus it was that Initiate McCoy - or Hank, as he preferred to be known - had become Master of Libraries at The Temple of The Way without competition from anyone else for the position. His intellect couldn't be matched within the walls of the temple - which was sometimes not such a good thing.
You see, Hank loved information and learning, and there was nothing he enjoyed more than a deep philosophical discussion with anyone who cared to hold one. However, since most of the temple dwellers considered his acumen 'out of their league', he rarely got the chance. Similarly, he adored explaining things, but the majority of folk couldn't understand his highbrow explanations, and instead avoided asking him questions if they could help it.
So it was with great pleasure that he regarded the two teenagers who stood before him now, asking to 'pick his brains' as one of them put it.
"I'd be delighted to help," he boomed. "Just tell me what you require and I'll happily elucidate."
The boy's face took on an expression of confusion. "Was sagten Sie?" He said in a heavy Germanic accent. "I'm sorry. My Common Tongue is not so good."
"He said, just tell him what you wanna know and he'll spill." The girl by his side swiftly elbowed him in the ribs for his rudeness.
Hank raised an eyebrow. Evidently, the Germanic boy was new. He should've guessed. Especially with that rather... atypical appearance. Yes, he definitely would have noticed someone like *that* before.
"Ach, ja. Now I understand," the boy said, rubbing his side ruefully and glaring daggers at the girl. Hank almost laughed at the pair of them. "Please excuse mein rudeness, Herr McCoy, but do you know anything about medical conditions?"
Hank smiled broadly. "My specialty. Science is my forte, dear boy. What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Shaking Sickness."
This time both of Hank's eyebrows rose as he abruptly realized to whom he was speaking. "You came in with that girl this morning, didn't you? The one who has Shaking Sickness and is now lying in the Infirmary?"
Both teenagers seemed shocked that he could so easily guess their purpose, despite not having been present when the bell was tolled that morning.
"How did you - " the girl began, momentarily forgetting her manners.
Hank tapped the side of his nose. "Initiate Ashari may be gifted, but she's still young, and not above seeking advice where she needs it." He pushed his glasses back up from where they had slipped down, expression thoughtful. "If it's Shaking Sickness you wish to know about, then I think I have just the thing. Come with me, please."
The adolescent pair obediently followed him as he made his way ploddingly through row upon row of tall, dusty bookshelves. They paced further and further into the sprawling temple libraries, until neither had the faintest idea where they were, or how to find their way out again without Hank's aid. In some places, his large feet left perceptible impressions in the dust that liberally coated the floor, signalling that they were now in territory that had not been occupied for many moons.
Kurt drew closer to Jubilee, whispering in the reverent tone that everyone seems to reserve for empty libraries. "Any idea where we are?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Not a clue. Personally, I think Kitty got the sweeter end of this deal by ducking out. I *hate* libraries at the best of times, and dust makes me sneeze."
Kurt flashed her a fanged grin. "Not an avid reader then?"
"Not when it's gonna bring on a sneezing fit." As if to emphasize her remark, her nose wrinkled and a loud sneeze suddenly rent the air.
"Gesundheit."
"Thanks." She sniffed loudly. "Although, by rights, this is your fault. It was *your* idea to come up here in the first place."
"Sorry, Frauline," the elf apologized, "but I just had to know what we're dealing with. What *Rogue* is dealing with. I just thought that perhaps if I knew a little more about her illness..."
"Say no more, Kurt. I understand." Jubilee sneezed again. "But my nose is gonna need a personal apology after this." She sniffled morosely. "Say, did Kitty tell *you* where she was going?"
"Nein, she didn't. Just said there was 'something she had to do', and she'd find us when she was finished with it."
"Any ideas?"
"Jawohl," Kurt responded, thinking about how Kitty had politely, but firmly excused herself, yet not needed a guide to escort her to her destination. "I have at least one idea where she's going."
"We're here," boomed a familiar baritone up ahead.
Kurt and Jubilee rounded the corner of a bookcase and nearly ran smack into Hank, who was standing staring up at a particularly lofty shelf of books.
"The text we seek is located somewhere up there." He gestured with one massive hand. "But as to its precise whereabouts, I'm afraid I'm a bit uncertain. It has been some time since I needed this particular volume." He started towards a rickety looking stepladder attached on runners to the side of the case.
Jubilee stepped in front of him. "Hey, whoa. No disrespect, Initiate McCoy, but you can't climb that thing. It's dangerous."
Hank nodded. "It does seem rather unstable, I'll admit. But you need that book, and I intend to get it for you. What sort of a Librarian would I be if I didn't?"
"Allow me, Herr McCoy." Kurt bounded forward. "I can fetch it easily if you just tell me where to look."
Hank appraised Kurt's slenderer frame, and cast another critical look up at the steps with regards to his own bulkiness. "Well, all right then. But be careful. The book you are looking for is entitled 'A Physician's Guide' by Lomex Saude. If I remember correctly, the cover is red with gold edges. It should be on the second from top shelf."
"Ich bin auf es." Kurt proclaimed, before vanishing in a puff of sulphurous smoke and collapsing light.
Hank blinked in surprise at the spot he'd vacated. "Amazing."
"You ain't seen nothing yet." Jubilee indicated upwards.
Hank turned to her. "What do you - "
He didn't have time to finish, as Kurt reappeared at the top of the stepladder. However, as with the 'Towel Incident', his landing still needed some work. He clung to the rungs upside down, staring at the two pink-robed onlookers as the blood began unexpectedly rushing to his head.
"I'm OK," he called. _At least I'm actually *on* the ladder._ Then he transferred his attention to the bookshelf in front of him - still upside down. His versatile feet and amazing toes gripped the aging stepladder as he searched for the elusive book, pulling out one, then another copy with his free hands, then returning each as the wrong one.
Eventually he found what he was looking for, and concentrated on the ground below. Another 'Bamf' later and he was back on the floor, this time right side up.
_I must be getting better,_ he thought to himself proudly, before handing 'A Physician's Guide' over to Initiate McCoy and allowing his light-headedness to clear.
Hank leafed purposefully through the substantial book, and then showed it to his audience of two. "Here we go. I believe this is the page you require."
Kurt took the tome from him, allowing Jubilee room to peer over his shoulder. Quickly his golden eyes inspected the delicately written script - Common, of course - digesting everything Lomax Saude had to say about Shaking Sickness. His heart sank a couple of notches with each sentence.
_*SACUDARIR-ENFERMEDAD*
'Commonly known as 'Shaking Sickness', this deadly disease is often elicited after being exposed to harsh conditions, and can affect anybody regardless of age or previous physical state. Symptoms vary, but often include any of the following: uncontrollable shivering, fever, intractable coughing, delirium, vomiting, internal bleeding and/or mental breakdown.
'It has been known that during Shaking Sickness, a victim may encase themselves within their own impenetrable mental fortress. That is to say, they are virtually catatonic, responding to no outside influences, and essentially trapped inside their own mind. Such cases are rare, but not unheard of, and are often the result of repressed memories reacting with the delirium caused by fever. If a sufferer does survive this, then there is usually lasting mental damage.
'Unless aided by a healer, victims of Sacudarir-Enfermedad rarely survive the illness. It has been likened in the past to a more powerful hybrid of Pneumonia and Pleurisy. Death usually occurs within a few days, but can be caused sooner by side effects such as ruptured lungs from extended coughing, asphyxiation, or as a result of complete mental shutdown. Unfortunately, without a healer, there is no known cure. Mortality rate is high, and there has not yet been a recorded incident of a victim recovering by themselves.'_
There was some more, but by this point Kurt's vision was clouded as he blinked unruly tears from his eyes. He heard Jubilee cover a sharp intake of breath as she too read the horrific fate awaiting Rogue should she fail to recover, and he could feel Initiate McCoy's sombre gaze boring into them. The Library Master had known about this. That's why he'd chosen to show them the book rather than tell them himself. Kurt let out a small sad sigh, and a few short words hitched in his throat as one solitary droplet escaped and trickled down his furry face.
"Oh, Rogue."
*******************
Teah was busily working when the knock at the door came. Soft and tentative, it was obvious that the person on the other side was hesitant to cross the threshold uninvited. The blonde child looked up from her work, half annoyed at the intrusion, half relieved at the distraction. She hadn't progressed much since her earlier interval, and was finding typical tasks burdensome and onerous to say the least.
"Enter," she called, voice still as clipped as usual.
The heavy door creaked ajar, and a pale face peeked through. Teah recognized it instantly.
"Yes? Is there something I can do for you?"
The owner of the face shrank back a little at her harsh tone. "Excuse me, Initiate Ashari, I'm not interrupting you am I?"
Teah snorted. "What's the point in asking senseless questions? Knocking at the door disturbed me already, so you might as well say your piece and disturb me further." Her quill tapped irritably on the tabletop. "Well? Are you going to stand out there all day? Come in, girl!"
Hastily the door opened a sliver more, and Kitty slid into the Infirmary before closing it behind her. Warily, she observed the small girl perched at the desk, blue eyes flickering inadvertently over to the rows of evil-tasting tonic she'd been forced to swallow earlier. Her stomach quailed at the memory, and she swallowed several times before speaking.
"Sorry. I... I just wanted to see Rogue. If that's possible?"
Teah regarded her for a second, before sighing and jerking a thumb over her shoulder. Kitty looked to see a row of beds, all of them neatly made up, save for one. Gratefully, the teenager muttered her thanks to the miniature healer, and walked quickly towards the lump contained therein.
"But I warn you, it's not a pretty sight," Teah called after her, bending over the mound of papers once more.
Kitty heard, but didn't reply. Steeling herself, and taking a deep breath for strength, she went to Rogue's bedside and cautiously peered down.
If possible, Rogue looked even worse than Kitty had imagined - and she'd imagined pretty bad. The piebald hair was damp with perspiration, and clung to her forehead in great clumps and knots. Rivulets of sweat ran freely onto the pillow, and Kitty didn't have to touch to know that both it and the sheets were drenched. Rogue's ashen skin had faded to near translucency, veins bulbous and pulsating repulsively, and her eyes appeared sunken and dead within her skull. Every now and then they'd flicker open as an accompaniment to her incessantly moving mouth; but the green revealed beneath was dull and unfocused, as if seeing beyond the reality of the Infirmary. Past it, into something only she was privy to.
Kitty stifled a gasp. She'd never seen Rogue look so... helpless. Even when dangling upside down in the death grip of a Displacer Beast's tentacle, she'd always been surrounded by an aura of control. An aura that now seemed shattered and fragmented, running away from her in tiny droplets of bodily fluid. It was almost enough to make her nauseous. That and the swell of memories, which bubbled to the surface at the all-too-familiar sight of a stricken face.
Kitty nearly yelped as something grasped hold of her shoulder. She turned to look up into Initiate Ashari's eyes, not even realized until that moment that she'd sunk to her knees.
"You OK?" asked the healer.
Kitty gulped and nodded.
A wry expression twisted Teah's lips. "Don't lie. I can sense something's amiss."
Kitty slumped onto her heels. "I... I never..." she began, and then stopped, took a deep breath, and started again. "I never thought it would be this bad. She looks so... so weird. Almost like a different person."
"Yes. *Almost*," Teah reminded her. "But remember, whatever this may look like, it's still your friend in there. Below the surface."
Rogue coughed, eyelids snapping back for a second with a faint but desperate whisper. "Don't go! Please, don't leave me!"
Kitty jerked forward, out of Teah's grasp, but the ex-assassin fluttered back into unconsciousness once more.
Unbidden, hot tears stung the backs of Kitty's eyes, threatening to leak onto her cheeks. She couldn't *bear* it. Despite all the threats, all the insults, the intimidation and potential violence, Kitty balked to see Rogue reduced to such a pitiful state. She was *The* Rogue. The strong, unbendable Rogue, who'd taken on the might of the Guild and was winning. She was the only one ever to break with their ancient tradition; the girl who chose her own path instead of meekly following the route laid down for her generations ago, wailing and tossing in a sickbed, sweating her life away. For Kitty, it was too horribly familiar. Too reminiscent of her own parents' deaths. The younger girl bit her lip hard, and a coppery tang spread across her tongue. Blood.
Blood.
Blood on the wood.
Suddenly, cool hands pressed themselves to her temples. Kitty started, but relaxed as Teah's voice, strangely gentle, floated into her ear.
"Shhh. Hush, now. Hush."
At once, a balmy sensation seemed to flow into her head. It leaked out of Teah's massaging fingertips, making its way through her fervent brain and soothing the tension there. Calming her. Helping her to deal with the upsurge of painful memories.
The hands removed themselves. "Better now?" Teah asked.
Kitty nodded. "Much. But you shouldn't have wasted your powers on me. You're supposed to be conserving them."
The fair-headed child shook her head. "Had to. You were sailing dangerously close to hysteria just then. Who knows what kind of damage you could've done if you'd actually fallen into it? Might even have ended up in a bed here yourself. A great help to your friend *that* would be."
"I suppose..." Kitty admitted. She looked back at Rogue, who lay twitching. Oblivious to the world around her. "I just wish there was something I could *do*. I mean, I know I can't do anything, like, medically; but I wish..." She trailed off. "I wish..."
Teah glanced at her sharply.
Kitty rocked back, expression thoughtful, before asking; "Where did they put them?"
"Where did *who* put *what*?"
"Rogue's armour. I had it with me when I arrived. Where is it?"
Teah scratched her head. Things had been so busy when The Rogue was brought in; it had been difficult to concentrate on anything else. But still... "I think one of the Underlings put it away. I was preoccupied at the time, but I *think* he put it..."
Purposefully she strode across the room, a vague scuffling telling her Kitty had scrambled to her feet to follow.
Beneath the window Sam had entered via that morning was a large, open-top chest of dubious origin and material. It was rarely used, since the lid was so heavy it took three people to shift it, but if Teah's memory served her correctly, then Underling Frederick would have had no problem with something like that; and - not being the most intelligent person in Earth-Realm - he wouldn't have foreseen what opening it again later would entail for people not imbued with super-strength.
"It *should* be in here," she remarked as Kitty joined her side, "but a lot of good that'll do you. I doubt either of us can move that lid on our own. You'd have to call one other person to help us, at least."
"No need." Kitty rolled up her sleeves. Teah quirked an eyebrow, wondering what she was up to.
Kitty closed her eyes and concentrated, summoning the abilities she'd so recently gained control of. They came to her mental grasp, quicker than before, thus proving her increased power over them. Apparently the adage 'practice makes perfect' was true after all.
Opening her eyes, she plunged both arms through, and into the chest up to her elbows. Teah goggled for a moment, and Kitty recalled idly that she'd probably been unaware as to what her Changeling powers actually were before now. Yet her own attention was divided.
_Now comes the tricky part,_ she thought. _Making sure I don't, like, phase right through the armour without even noticing it's there._
She concentrated, willing her fingers to become solid flesh again, but not the rest of her arms. Her unyielding hands fumbled around for a moment, until they came to rest on something cold and hard. One knuckle-rap against it elicited a distinctly metallic clink, barely audible through the thick chest. She probably wouldn't have heard it at all had her ear not been virtually pressed to the wood.
_Got it!_
Carefully, she gripped her prize tightly, willing her fingers not to pass straight through the metal. It was certainly heavy enough, and she marvelled at how she'd carried it so far from the river without collapsing sooner. After a few painstaking minutes, it was successfully dragged through the side of the chest, to land with a hollow 'clunk' on the wooden floor.
Kitty released it with relief, wiping her brow where beads of concentration-induced sweat had manifested. Her cheeks were red, her breath short, and her mind ached with effort, but she felt satisfied.
_At least I'm, like, getting better at the whole self-control thing._
Teah drew closer with an admiring whistle. "Nice work. A little unorthodox for my tastes, but nice."
"Thanks. I think."
Kitty's gaze fell critically upon Rogue's armour. She knelt down beside it, questing with her hands for something in particular. Eventually she found it, and with a hollow 'snikt', drew Rogue's sword out of its scabbard. It gleamed drearily in the sunlight from the window, sheen dulled by the coating of red smeared and dried across it. The Changeling twisted it this way and that, holding the blade upright to get a better look, and noting that the crimson coating spread down and onto the hilt and pommel.
"Watch what you're doing with that, girl," Teah warned. "That's a dangerous weapon, not some toy to be waved about without regard."
Yet Kitty wasn't listening. "This is terrible!" she cried in dismay.
"What is?"
"This!"
"What?"
"*This*!" Kitty answered irritably. "Can't you see?"
"I can see, all right. I just don't understand what you mean. *What* is so terrible?" Teah demanded, exasperation clear in her young voice.
Kitty didn't even spare her a look, instead lowering the sword blade and running one hand along the flat of it. Flakes of red came away on her skin, and floated to the floor. "Rogue once told me that, according to Guild Lore, an assassin's sword contains part of his or her spirit. A tiny portion of soul woven into the metal. It only happens when a true warrior holds the sword; someone truly at home with a blade. If you'd ever seen Rogue in battle, you'd know the real meaning of 'swordsmanship'. She doesn't seem whole without a weapon in her hand, and handles it so well it seems like just an extension of her arm." She stared up at Teah, eyes shining. "Now I know how I can help her."
Teah frowned, bemused by the ostensibly incoherent babble. "What are you talking about? How are you going to help her?" _Foolish girl. Sounds like gibberish to me. Souls in swords? Folklore, and nothing more._
"By cleaning her sword," Kitty stated triumphantly.
Now Teah was well and truly lost. "Excuse me? How in the names of all the gods is cleaning a bit of metal going to help her recover from Shaking Sickness?"
Kitty sighed. "It's hard to explain. The way I see it, Rogue's spirit - or at least part of it - is contained within the fabric of her sword. As long as the blood of the Displacer Beast taints it, her spirit's also incapacitated with the side effects her fight with the creature caused. It's, like, symbolic. Her spirit is trapped by the beast's blood, and Rogue is trapped by the sickness she got fighting the same beast. So, if I remove the blood, then I'll be removing the symbolic barrier trapping her soul, which may help her to heal. It makes perfect sense when you think about it."
Teah had heard enough. "I've never heard anything so ludicrous in all my life! I don't see how polishing just one strip of dirty metal can possibly aid a sick girl's health. It's impossible!"
Kitty's jaw set. "It may not seem like much to you, but believe me, it'd mean so much to her. She never *ever* left her sword dirty after she'd used it. It was like she just *couldn't*. So I'm going to carry on what she started."
"But it's just one sword - "
"Then I'll clean her dagger as well. And her knife. And the rest of her armour. I'll polish it all, and make it shine like it never shone before, because *I* know that it'll make a difference. If not physically, then spiritually."
Teah stared at the sullen teenager, who glared back at her with unconcealed vehemence.
_She *really* believes this is going to work. Such a stupid notion. I've never heard anything so ridiculous._
Kitty continued to glower, as if challenging the healer to dispute her feelings more. Teah looked irritably into her eyes, and saw with surprise a conviction there she'd rarely seen in others. It was so strong, and sparkled so profusely in those two blue orbs that, for a second, she could have been gazing at Ororo herself. It was the exact same conviction held in the Temple Mother's gaze when she made a decision about something; the same certainty that she was right. Teah blinked, momentarily bemused; but when she looked back, there was only a surly teenage girl clutching a soiled sword once more.
Teah sighed, and turned to go. Kitty's head drooped tiredly, but snapped up again as the healer called over one shoulder:
"Come on. I've got some old bandages over here you can use as rags. They're made of coarse fibres, so they should scrub the dried blood and dirt off nicely."
Kitty's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this odd change of heart, but she didn't push her luck by ignoring the offer. Instead, she hauled herself to her feet and tottered behind the Initiate, ready to begin the arduous task she'd set herself.
"Thank you."
"Meh," was the only response she received.
It was as Teah fumbled around in a drawer - which, by rights, had been designed for a taller person to reach - that Rogue screamed. Kitty nearly jumped out of her skin, but instead backed into Teah, whose head then crashed against the bottom of the drawer, sending the medical contents of it sprawling across the floorboards. Teah cursed under her breath, revealing a blue vocabulary far beyond her tender years.
Kitty stared, yelping, as Rogue proceeded to screech again; an unearthly sound, like a howl of pain mixed with the death-cry of some poor suffering beast. It grated across their eardrums and reverberated inside their skulls, refusing to go away.
"What... what's going on?" Kitty stuttered, clamping her hands down over her ears. "Why's she screaming like that? What's wrong with her?"
Teah rubbed at her scalp where a sizable lump was now appearing. Boy, was she going to feel *that* one in the morning. "A side-effect of the fever, I'm afraid. She's been doing that on and off for the past couple of hours. Sometimes it lasts for quite a few minutes. Last time I had to get Frederick to hold her down, she was thrashing about so much." Her eyes narrowed "That said, I'd better call him again. He's the only one who can deal with her like this without fear of being hurt. Virtually indestructible, is Frederick," she said by way of explanation at Kitty's confused expression.
"Then... then this is, like, *normal*?"
"As normal as you can get when you're delirious from Shaking Sickness." Teah winced as her fingers found a particularly painful spot, and mentally resolved to leave the bump alone until it went down.
"B-but it's so horrible." Kitty shivered. "She sounds in pain."
As if to emphasize this, Rogue screamed again. Her cry ripped through the air, not needing words to communicate the anguish in it.
"Probably because she is," Teah replied dispassionately. "I believe this is a reaction to the delirium her mind has trapped itself within. She's reprocessing past events and machinations to the point where they cause her actual, physical harm."
"Huh? In Common Tongue, please."
Teah sighed. Honestly, teenagers expected everything spelled out to them syllable by syllable. The irony of the situation seemed to escape her entirely.
"The way I figure it, your friend is experiencing images and thoughts that affect her so much they have transferred themselves to a physical state. In short, the more she thinks about them, the more they hurt her body in the real world. They could be anything. Fears - "
"Rogue doesn't have any fears. She's... well, she's The Rogue."
Teah glared at her. "Everyone has fears. *Everyone*. Or they could be nightmares she's dreamt in the past. They could even be repressed memories; events she's been trying to forget, but have pushed their way to the forefront of her mind now that she has no control over keeping them in check."
"But that's awful." Kitty exclaimed again, horrified. She thought of all the things Rogue must have done during her life as an assassin. True, that life was over for her now, but still, the memories would remain...
_All those people she killed on missions. And some of the things she must have seen in the war-torn lands she visited. Poor Rogue. Nobody should have to see that once, let alone over and over again._
"Isn't there anything we can, like, do? I mean; we can't just leave her like that. It's inhumane and cruel if it's hurting her."
"There's nothing we *can* do," Teah said matter-of-factly. "I can give her herbs to ease the pain, but I can't stop what's happening inside her mind. That's telepaths' territory, not mine, and they can't do anything because of the mental barriers she's set up. It's a vicious circle. We can't get in to help her, and she can't get out to help herself until the fever breaks, which could be any time between now and the next time the moon waxes full."
Rogue yelped, striking empty air with a clenched fist, as she battled some unseen opponent. Kitty edged closer to the fallen girl, but stayed on the periphery, so as not be hit by a flailing limb. Rogue's eyelids were clenched, and her jaw was set like steel. Beads of sweat flew into the air as she lashed against the saturated sheets. It made the Changeling's kind heart wrench not to be able to help. Instinctively, she reached out and snagged one of the whirling hands, wrapping her own fingers comfortingly into the ex-assassin's clammy ones in a way she never would have had courage to do had Rogue been awake.
"You're sure there's, like, nothing I can do to help her? Nothing at all?"
"Nothing," came the firm answer.
Kitty gazed at Rogue, both saddened and confused by the remorseful feeling she felt for the girl who'd been so violent towards her. Rogue had never welcomed Kitty's presence, but fought valiantly to save her life anyway. The mark of a true warrior. And friend.
Friend?
_Is that what you are to me now, Rogue? A friend?_ Kitty wondered. _Would you see it that way? I don't know what to think any more. Friendship just isn't a word I'd associate with someone like you; someone so harsh. But still... the way you were with Kurt when his Mom died...
_Oh, I wish I knew what was going on inside your mind, Rogue, so that I could help you. Stupid, I know, since you don't even *like* me. But I need to repay you for what you've done. I want to say thank you, somehow... someway. Whatever's happening in there, whatever memories you're reliving or whatever, you have to know that Kurt and I will be here for you. We owe you our lives, Rogue, and we're not going to just sit idly by and let yours slip away from because of it, you hear. We're gonna, like, keep hoping, no matter what._
A defiant whisper escaped her lips, as her fingers tightened around the stricken girl's hand. Her knuckles bleached, and for a second her eyes became flinty and grey - not at all like their normal blue. They flickered only an instant, darkening to a blackish tinge, and then switched back to their usual colouring; but the whisper hung on the air, almost tangible in the tense atmosphere, and filled with such a sense of promise as to almost seen unnatural.
"No matter *what*!"
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To Be Continued...
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*TRANSLATIONS*
GERMANIC
Durch alle Götter in den Himmeln! ~ By all the gods in the sky!
Was sagten Sie? ~ What did you say?
Ich bin auf es! ~ I'm on it!