Disclaimer: I possess no legal claim to the Greek gods or the X-Men. Please don't sue me or steal my story!
NOTE: Most of Kurt's and Christine's dialogue in this is quoted directly from the final installment of the Nightcrawler mini-series. Everything after the "Pingk!" is mine.
Eros's Arrows: A Valentine's Day Story
By Rowena
"Oh, nuts."
That was my first reaction upon getting my mother's summons, and I stand by it even now. I'd been having a good day until I read that note. A truly enjoyable day. Valentine's Day is always one of the highlights of my year. After the note, though, my whole attitude just went blah.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not a complainer by nature, and I love my mother—really. It wasn't the thought of meeting with her that wrecked my day. It was the fact that I knew what was inevitably going to happen if I went. I sighed and read the note again, hoping that maybe the words had shifted, or I'd missed some subtle subtext….
"DEVELOPMENTS HEATING UP AT XAVIER'S. COME SEE ME AT ONCE."
No such luck. Grumbling to myself, I slung my bow and quiver over my shoulder and set off to pay a visit to the goddess of love.
My mother, Aphrodite, was lounging in her upholstered clamshell when I flew in, munching bon-bons and looking beautiful, as usual. She smiled when she saw me, but her expression soon changed when she noticed my stern countenance.
"Eros, sweetie, you look so glum!" she exclaimed, gracefully lowering her heart-shaped candy box to the floor. "Come and let mommy give you a hug."
"Leave off it, Mom," I scowled, standing firm with my arms crossed. "I'm not a kid anymore. I want to know what's with this note you sent me. I thought I told you I wasn't going to get mixed up in another X-Men love tangle!"
My mother schooled her features into a charming pout. I rolled my eyes.
"I'm serious, Mom! Sorting out the convoluted love affairs of the X-Men would be a full time job—one I am not prepared to take on. I've got an entire world to deal with! I can't get sucked into petty problems like this!"
"Oh, but sweetie—"
"Don't sweetie me! I'm not going to cave on this one. That Scott Summers and Emma Frost business was the last straw."
Mother's blue eyes brightened—a sight that would be devastating to any other man. As for me, I'm naturally immune to her charms, and I thank the gods for that every day.
"But this has nothing to do with those two," she smiled. "This concerns that adorable little Nightcrawler fellow—you know the fuzzy one with the dashing grin?"
"The one who was in love with his foster sister? The one who can charm the girls but never keep them?" I grimaced. "Mom, you don't need me for this. Anteros is the god of unrequited love, and all the angsty crap that goes with it. You should be bothering him!"
"Your brother has his hands full juggling the hearts of four other superheroes at the moment," my mother frowned. "And as for that 'angsty crap,' as you so eloquently put it, you of all people should understand the pain caused by unrequited love. Remember when you lost your beloved Psyche?"
Ow! Talk about below the belt!
"I got her back, Mom," I protested, but it was weak. My mother gave me that sympathetic look of hers and I knew it was over. She had won—playing dirty, of course.
In any case, there was no longer any question. Another knotty X-Men love affair loomed in my immediate future, and my mother was going to make sure that I saw it through to the end.
Whatever I said before about that immunity to Aphrodite's charms: forget it.
There aren't many things more uncomfortable than a tree. Especially when you've been sitting in it for three and a half hours and the night air has got a chill. My fingers were stiff and my backside had fallen asleep by the time the human couple finally walked outside the X-Men's mansion, glasses of wine in hand. I have to admit my spirits rose a bit when I saw they looked about as cheerful as I felt just then.
And then they opened their mouths and I was instantly plunged to the deepest depths of fidgety boredom. I know, I know, this was an emotional moment for the two of them and everything but honestly, when you've been a god of love as long as I have, all these tense little scenes play out like an old, worn out movie you've seen ten too many times.
The Nightcrawler fellow, Kurt Wagner, was the first to speak, although it was more to break the silence than anything else.
"Christine I…"
Come on, go on, you can do it…
"I don't know what to say."
Hmph. See what I mean? And now for the lady's contribution to the conversation.
"That you're sad? That you'll miss me?"
Oh gods. So what, does that mean she's going away somewhere? Swell! What in the name of Hades' realm was I doing there if she's going to be gone?
"I am—I will." That was Nightcrawler again, and sounding slightly desperate. The lady continued as if she hadn't heard.
"That we had a good run?"
"Yes we did, despite everything…"
There was another pause while they stared deeply into each other's eyes, wine glasses forgotten. For a long moment, the tension was palpable. Slowly, they leaned in closer as if transfixed, lips parting ever so slightly…
"…It turned cold awfully fast, didn't it?" the lady commented, averting her eyes.
I nearly screamed. This assignment was such a waste of time! Clearly these two felt nothing stronger than friendly affection towards one another. If there was any actual love between them, I surely would have gotten a vibe by now. I reached back to finger the owl feathers and leaden shaft of my arrow of indifference, fully prepared to draw it out…
But wait—something was happening. There was something different about the Nightcrawler's yellow eyes…a new intensity I hadn't noticed there before. Frowning, I let my hand drop back to my lap, willing to observe just a little longer.
"One more thing, Christine…" the blue man said, fixing the lady with a small, daring smile.
"What?" she started, only to lose her breath as the Nightcrawler pressed his lips to hers, his tail wrapping tightly around her slender waist as the couple melted into the kiss. The chill, February wind swelled, blowing brown, wintry leaves about them, but they didn't even notice. I furrowed my brow. This, what I was seeing now…this might just be love.
The arrow of love is a powerful tool. If used rashly, it can cause devastation that can literally crush the soul of a mortal. If the target is ready, however—really ready—a prick from the tip can turn the deepest mortal love into a love that is everlasting—a love that can transcend even death to reunite the lovers in the world to come. That is the power I wield; a power so strong it can obliterate free will and turn its victim into a slave. Watching that kiss, I was now faced with a choice. Should I let my arrow fly as my mother wished, or should I allow them time…time to sort out their feelings on their own?
The couple had parted now, but they were still locked in that warm embrace, entirely oblivious to the wind and cold. Slowly, I drew my golden arrow and smoothed the soft dove feathers. Slowly, I drew back my bowstring. In less than a blink, I had let my arrow fly.
Pingk!
"Oh, what was that?" Christine gasped, breaking away from Kurt's arms. Kurt frowned and tilted his head, examining the wine glass in his hand.
"Look at that," he said with a slight, confused chuckle. "The bottom of the glass broke off of the stem!"
Christine laughed, stepping in close to rest her cheek against his chest. "You must have been holding me tighter than I realized," she said.
"Yeah."
Kurt sighed and reached up to stroke Christine's shiny, auburn hair. "You will come back, right?" he asked.
For a long moment, Christine didn't answer. Then, slowly, she looked up into his eyes…
She never did answer the Nightcrawler's question in words. There was just one last kiss, and then they suddenly felt the cold again and headed back inside.
Once they were gone, I flew down from my perch and recovered my arrow from where it had lodged in the soft turf, surrounded by shards of shattered glass.
I'd done as my mother asked. I let my arrow fly—but not to pierce the skin. The nearness of its passing, though, just might be enough to ensure her return. However it turns out, there's only one thing I know for sure. If she does choose to come back, I'll be ready. Right now, though, I've got to get going. It is Valentine's Day, after all, and I'm already running late!
The End
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