Note: Thanks so much to those who reviewed! I hope this chapter fulfills expectations despite the lack of much Magneto.
Chapter 2
As Rogue followed Erik -- as she could not help but call him in her mind -- through his large, imposing island fortress, she tried and failed to hide her surprise at the majesty of the edifice. When he had first said he was the leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, she had almost imagined a little club of mutants meeting once a week at a local gym or something, but this -- this was organization on a scale she had never imagined. They passed a few mutants who were scurrying along here and there and who gave Erik a respectful and slightly fearful distance as he led her imperiously down the mazelike corridors. Unsurprisingly, most of the fortress was constructed of metal, and with the lingering bits of Erik's powers still pulsing through her Rogue almost imagined that the walls were singing to her, and she envied Erik his power.
She knew, of course, why he had sought her out, why he had so carefully planned how to entice her into the Brotherhood, why he was being so unusually solicitous towards her, just as she knew that he did not know that her touch allowed her to so completely become another person. He had thought that he was offering her a guarded reassurance by showing her that his concern for her well-being and for the well-beings of all mutants was sincere, when in reality he had inadvertently revealed to her the entirety of his nefarious plan. She was skeptical about its success, but she would refrain from making a final decision either way until he'd actually tried to talk her into doing what he wanted her to do.
Already she could feel the effect that his presence was having on her mind and thought processes. The change had hardly been noticeable after that one ill-fated kiss with her ex-boyfriend, his weak mind being easily subdued by her own strong will, and the few times she had used her powers in her own defense she had used a knowledge of her own moral superiority to force the presences of her attackers into the darkest recesses of her mind. In Erik, though, she had encountered a mutant with a stubbornness to equal hers and many years of experience to back it up. She refused to allow him to dominate her mind, but she could not keep him from changing her in small, unsurprising ways.
She found, for example, that thinking of her parents no longer inspired a feeling of melancholy bitterness, but instead caused her lip to curl in sincere antipathy. Humans, whom she had looked upon with disgust and hurt ever since her mutancy asserted itself, now appeared to her to be among the vilest of creatures to walk the earth. Then, some German words had started to creep into her thoughts, which was particularly disturbing as she had never spoken a word of the language before.
His effect on her mind was disturbing to say the least, but she decided that this change, like all the others that had occurred in the past month, simply had to be taken in stride.
Erik pointed out various different rooms as he walked, particularly emphasizing the gym, dining hall, and locker room, and she nodded absently, already well familiar with the layout of the fortress from his memories. She forced herself to pay closer attention, however, when she suddenly realized that she had been admiring his profile as they walked, entranced by the stern pride he took in this fortress he had built and the animation in his features when he discussed some achievement of the Brotherhood's. Part of her strange attraction to him, she knew, was the clear knowledge that he was attracted to her. Still, it was one thing for an older man to feel a secret, hidden desire for a younger woman, and quite another thing for that younger woman to feel any attraction towards a man old enough to be her grandfather! She pushed away her distracted thoughts and focused on what he was saying.
"And here is where you will be staying, my dear," he said, gesturing to an anonymous metal door in an anonymous corridor. "I will leave you to get settled in. If you need anything, you can find me in my office; otherwise, breakfast is at seven in the dining hall, and I will see you tomorrow." He bowed courteously and then briskly strode away.
Rogue watched him go until he turned a corner and disappeared from sight, then pushed open the door to her room. It was larger than she expected, with a neatly made bed and elegant dresser, and with a private bathroom attached; she knew that it was a much nicer room than most of the Brotherhood had. He wasn't exactly being subtle in his attempt to persuade her to do what he wanted, it seemed.
She quickly placed her meager possessions in the appropriate places in the room, then walked purposefully out the door and down the hall. She had some research to do.
Rogue was still in the library several hours later, a number of books strewn on the table in front of her. Mystique watched from the shadows as the young woman darted between texts with a kind of strange frenetic energy; she was too far away to see what the books were about. The girl twirled a strand of brown hair around her finger, frowning at something she had read, then quickly scratched something down on a piece of paper.
Mystique felt her curiosity overcoming her desire to remain hidden, and she cleared her throat as she stepped into the younger woman's line of sight. Rogue's head jerked up in surprise at the sound, and she stared at Mystique as she approached. Mystique took advantage of that moment of inattention and glanced at the titles of the books she was so entranced by, surprised by what she saw. One was a well-worn copy of a book about the Holocaust by a noted scholar. Two were texts on advanced physics, and two on advanced chemistry; there was also a book on advanced mathematics. Machiavelli's The Prince lay open on the corner of the desk.
"Good evening," Mystique said quietly, examining the young woman seated in front of her and liking what she saw.
"Hi," Rogue replied cautiously.
"My name is Mystique," she said. "Of course, you already know that, don't you?
The younger mutant frowned. "How -- "
Mystique gestured to the books. "We had thought that your gift acted only as a form of empathy, which is the only reason I can imagine that Erik would have allowed you to touch him. Apparently, you absorb a lot more than surface emotions, given your eclectic choice of studies."
"I've always been good at math and science," the girl replied defensively, although she clearly didn't expect to actually convince Mystique of her ignorance.
"I know. Who do you think tracked you down for Erik to find? Don't imagine that we would have asked you here knowing nothing about you."
There seemed to be nothing Rogue could say to that.
"You obviously know why you're here," Mystique observed after several prolonged moments of silence. "What I don't understand is why you would choose to come with Erik knowing what he intended to do with you."
Rogue shrugged. "Of course he wouldn't have just let me go if I'd said I didn't want to come with; not for long, at least. And there's something...intriguing about this idea of his. I wanted to consider the possibility." The girl looked up to find Mystique studying her through narrowed eyes. "What?"
The blue mutant shook her head. "You're different than I expected."
Rogue snorted. "What, you thought I was going to become hysterical at the thought of being used in this machine of his?" She picked up the piece of paper she had been working on, allowing Mystique to see that it was a detailed sketch of the machine Magneto intended to use to transform many of the worlds' leaders into mutants.
"Something like that."
She pursed her lips in something like amusement. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly jumping for joy at the idea right now; and I definitely ain't going to agree to anything until it's been proved to me that this machine of his actually works." She gestured expansively at the books she had been studying. "That's what I'm doing here -- trying to figure out whether his machine is as brilliant as it seems, or just the desperate hope of a madman. But whatever happens, I appreciate that Erik is at least giving me the illusion of being able to decide what I want to do."
Mystique was going to say something in response to Rogue's surprising pragmatism, but what actually came out of her lips surprised her completely. "May I touch you?" she asked. She blinked in consternation with herself.
Rogue, too, had not expected that reply. "Why?" she asked warily. She used an ungloved hand to swipe a strand of hair out of her face, her brown eyes intense as she considered the other mutant.
Mystique hesitated. "Because I think that I understand you a little, better than Erik does, at least, and I want you to understand me, too." It was one of the most honest answers she had ever given to a question.
Rogue's expression was still suspicious, but there was a light of comprehension in her eyes. She stepped towards the other woman in invitation, and both of them watched as if from a distance as a scaly blue hand rose of its own volition and rested against her smooth young face. Seconds later, the contact was broken. Mystique watched in fascination as Rogue frowned in concentration, then used her gift to metamorphose herself into a boy Mystique had never met, then Erik, then into Mystique's original human form.
Mystique stared at the exact replica of the body she had had before becoming a mutant, the beautiful, firm lines of her face, her clear skin, the same lithe body she possessed now, and she shuddered in the grip of a powerful emotion.
Rogue/Raven's face softened in a kind of tender understanding, and she reached out a hand as if to give a comforting caress before remembering the danger of her skin. In a moment of unprecedented weakness, Mystique looked away, refusing to confront this image of what she used to be.
"Raven," Rogue said gently, "you are beautiful." The deep voice with which she spoke was the voice Mystique used to have; it was the voice she still had now.
In a sudden fury, Mystique looked back up, blistering words waiting on the tip of her tongue, but choked back her angry reply when she saw what Rogue had done: she had changed herself into Mystique as she was now, and was glaring defiantly back at her. For the first time, she forced herself to look at this body of hers from an outsider's perspective. Her body was as fit and toned as it had ever been. The colors of her skin, hair, and eyes clashed, but the intensity of those eyes was enough to make the others almost not matter. She was not what she had once been; those who had been attracted to her old form would never be attracted to this one. She thought of Erik, and his appreciation for her as she was now, and she thought of Rogue, and her calm acceptance of Mystique herself.
Ever so slowly she reached one hand towards a reflection more honest than any mirror, her fingers pausing only inches away from a face identical to her own. Then Rogue's grasp on her power faded, and before her eyes her own form melted into the younger girl's, leaving only the memory of that one so powerful moment of clarity.
Mystique looked away for a long moment, composing herself and storing away the memory of the past few minutes so that she would never forget.
"It's late," she said brusquely, "and there will be plenty of time to research further before the machine is finished. You should go to bed."
Rogue did not argue, but neatly stacked the books she had been studying and began to precede the other mutant from the room.
"Rogue -- " Mystique called. She turned back to face her, her face questioning. "When the time comes, if Erik can prove that the machine works, you'll agree to power it, won't you?" Mystique thought she knew the answer to that question, but for once in her life did not know with certainty whether she wouldn't rather be proved wrong.
Rogue frowned a little pensively, then smiled a sad smile. There was an extraordinary light in her eyes that Mystique couldn't name. And she said, "Yes."