Telegram from Sir Charles Xavier, Newcastle, England to Katherine Pryde, Paris, France
REGRET EMERGENCY PREVENTS ATTENDANCE AT DEBUT COAL MINE COLLAPSE NEWCASTLE OUR HEARTS WITH YOU WISH YOU BEST XAVIER ET AL
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Telegram from Sir Charles Xavier, Newcastle, England, to Lord Warren W. Worthington, Monte Carlo, Monaco
IMPERATIVE YOU ATTEND OPERA POPULAIRE PARIS NIGHT OF NINETEENTH PERSONALLY UNABLE SO YOU REPRESENT US AT DEBUT KATHERINE PRYDE BALLET XAVIER
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Letter from Katherine Pryde, Paris, France, to Auroré Munro, Xavier House
Dear Auroré;
This may be a short letter, because I'm writing it very late after I got home from my stage debut. I hope that by the time it reaches you, the crisis will be a thing of the past. I expect that in a few days, I will be reading newspaper accounts of the coal mine's collapse, and no doubt I will recognize my friends in the eyewitness accounts of the 'angels and good spirits' who rescued the trapped miners.
It would be selfish of me to want all of you here, when the lives of so many are in danger, but it is not selfish of me to wish there had been no mine collapse at all. I missed you very much. That is just me feeling sorry for myself, however. I was only in one dance in the middle of a whole opera, after all.
Sir Erich wasn't here for my debut, either. He is trapped in Parliament right now, and couldn't get away. He sent me a letter that began, 'Confound you, child, I need more notice than this!'
How I wish that man would re-marry and have some children of his own, rather than being parental at me! Which reminds me—he has apparently claimed to be my guardian. If he is, this is the first I've ever heard of it. Is he my guardian? Can you find out? If so, when and how did that happen?
He sent me a present along with the letter, a pearl necklace. It is a beautiful one, and the first piece of serious jewelry I have ever owned. Is it proper for me to keep it? Should I send it back to him? It must have been rather expensive, as the pearls are not small and there is an emerald set in the clasp. That man will not buy my daughterly affections, or any other kind of affections for that matter, with jewels. (Not that I suspect him of wanting the other kind.)
In any event, I did not make my debut in front of only strangers, without a single person I knew there to see it. Warren came. I knew about it beforehand, because he sent me a bouquet of pale yellow roses and jasmine flowers, with his card attached. It arrived while I was getting ready in my dressing room. He took a box—not Box Five, as the managers are learning fast—and he was quite alone. I know, because he came back to the dancer's lounge afterward.
"Can this really be Kitty Pryde?" he said, as he took my hand. "Forgive me, but somehow when I thought of you, up until tonight, I always saw you as being perpetually thirteen, tiny, and rail thin. You are making me feel old!"
From the moment he entered the room, every female in it was gazing at him as if his face was ice cream and their eyes were spoons. He is such a pretty man! I wasn't, of course, but then I'm somewhat used to him.
"If you recall how I looked when I was thirteen, then you will understand that I didn't want to stay thirteen perpetually. What a martyrdom that would be." I told him. "And as for feeling old, surely you can't be more than thirty…" I drew out the moment. "...nine?"
He laughed. "A hit!—a palpable hit! Truly, though, I was never so surprised as when I got a telegram from the Professor commanding that I should come and throw myself at your feet tonight. I am very happy that I did."
"Thank you," I smiled. "It would have been bleak without one face that I knew in the audience. And thank you for sending those lovely flowers. My dressing room smells like a perfumery shop."
"You're welcome. But if you truly want to thank me, come and save me from having to eat dinner alone tonight." he coaxed.
"No, I'm afraid I can't." I replied.
"Why not? Surely we are old friends? Or at least we attended the same school, which is much the same thing?"
"Because although you and I know that, it would be too much trouble to explain away a co-educational boarding school to everyone else in the Opera Populaire. It's a veritable hive of gossip and scandal-bearing. I have no one to chaperone me. Instead, I have a horrible landlady."
"Surely simply going out to dinner wouldn't tarnish your reputation?" he asked.
"Wouldn't it just? Think a moment—what other interest could the wealthy young Earl of Worthing have in a ballet girl? No, I'm sorry, but it won't do. It was wonderful of you to come, though. And I do appreciate it. If you truly don't want to eat dinner alone, you might try chatting up some of the other girls."
"But you're the only one whose conversation wouldn't be a torture to endure." he pleaded.
"Oh, how very charming of you! Careful—you're starting to reveal hidden depths to your character. That's worth much more than if you said you thought I was pretty."
"But I do think you are!" he protested. "Honestly—but now you're teasing. You really have grown, haven't you? And not all of it on the outside. Well, if you won't come with me to dinner, I shall go and eat it in lonely solitude. Good night—Katherine Pryde."
I do like Warren—but after all, he is Warren, and the only person he's ever loved more than he loves himself is Jean!
I went back to my dressing room to change—and found the Ghost had left a velvety crimson rose on my dressing table. Despite the fact that I had locked the door when I went down. It was the darkest red I have ever yet seen on a real rose. He also left a note, which read.
'Congratulations on your first performance—of many, I trust. You were the only one worth watching.
Yours, O.G.'
After all that warm glow of masculine admiration—and receiving some teacherly approval as well, because Madame Giry stopped in and told me my performance was 'entirely satisfactory', which for her is high praise—, I went home, woke everyone in my boarding house when I rang to be let in, and promptly got into a fight with Frau Levy over the issue of my supper. That took the enchantment off the night for me.
She said there was nothing for me to eat, because I hadn't been there at the proper hour when supper was served, and she wasn't going to cater to me. I said that she knew I would have late nights, that I was paying for my supper, and that I didn't care if it was just a plate of cold meat and bread, but I wanted a meal. Or a reduction in what she charges for board. I had told her about what I would need when I first arrived, so she couldn't say she didn't know.
I really could have done without that scene, but I did get a plate of food, cold though it was, with a pitcher of cold water to wash it down. I don't like the water in this arrondissement; it has a funny taste. The water in the Opera house is much better. I had to eat and drink with her eyes on me the whole time, and she snatched the plate and cup out of my hands when I was done. But now I am in the privacy of my room, finishing up this letter to you. I need some sleep.
Good Night,
Kitty
Ps. Could you send me a couple of tins of tooth powder? I don't like the kind they sell here. My teeth don't feel clean when I'm done brushing. Thank you in advance.
PPs. How is Peter?
Letter from Katherine Pryde, Opera Populaire, Paris, France, to Sir Charles Xavier, Xavier House, Yorkshire, England.
Dear Professor Xavier;
This is a very brief letter, but I didn't want you to wait and worry until I can write a longer one.
I have been ill, quite seriously ill, in truth, but I am no longer in any danger. I have been very well taken care of—no one could have taken better care of me.
I tire very easily at present, but I will write more when I am stronger. If you reply, it would be better if you wrote to me in care of the Opera Populaire, as I have not been back to Frau Levy's for several nights. She will have written me off by this time, but I'm not too sorry about that. I will send you my new address when I have one.
Love,
Kitty
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Letter from Erik to the Daroga (true identity unknown)
Daroga:
I do not care to have you wandering around shouting questions down here—it disturbs my tranquility. The guest who is presently in my house is not of flesh and blood like you; she and I are of the same kind, and that is of some metal other than earth.
For the sake of our past, I am willing to satisfy your curiosity. If you will return here at seven this evening, I will take you to my house and grant you the privilege of seeing her and speaking to her yourself.
Erik
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Excerpt from the Journals of Erik:
I have leisure now, to write about her visit. I could not spare the time to write, when it seemed as though she was dying. Perhaps it was ill-advised of me to bring her here, as sick as she was, and care for her myself, but I cannot regret it.
Katherine Pryde is mad. I can come to no other conclusion.
At first, I had thought it was some lingering delirium from the cholera, or that her mind had been permanently damaged by some subtle starvation, like that produced by deprivation of air, but no. When she went to bed a scant hour ago she was as well in body as she could be, and her intelligence and intellect are acute and well-developed.
She is calm, rational, and sensible in almost all ways, and where she is not, her madness is very gentle, really—in many ways a blessing, especially for me. I can comprehend it.
I love her all the more for her delusions, and if this is madness, let her never regain her senses….
There is not, there could never be a school full of people such as the one she talks of, a school meant for and run by people like us.
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A/N: This is a mini-chapter—the next part will be much longer. For the X-Fans who know Magneto's history, in this AU he has no living children. Sorry if you're Wanda Pietro fans, but I'm not too crazy about them. Sir Erich will be showing up soon, Warren will pay a return visit after that, and believe it or not, Raoul will even put in an appearance! Kurt will be in a chapter after that, entitled "How the Opera House's Boiler was so tiresome"
Hiya, JP—'Lord of the Dance'? I have to laugh and cringe at the same time…but I know where you got that image…Gerry in his costume for 'Point of No Return'! Erik will start giving her singing lessons, but it will take some time before she could possibly replace Carlotta—if she ever does.
SerenaWolf—I promise Kurt won't get shoved into the Raoul role. While Kurt cares a lot for Kitty, it's not a romantic love. What happens instead—two words. "Road Trip!" 19th century style, of course–That's directed to you, too, Lexy, as a hint of what's to come.
To all my reviewers: Thank you, thank you, thank you. My ADD continues to stay under control, and the inspiration particles are sleeting through the universe steadily.