The cool air whipped harshly upon her bare arms, making them feel ice cold and numb. Her hair blew wildly behind her as she hid her face behind her driver and continued to hold on securely about his waist as they traveled at break-neck speed down the highway, maneuvering around cars, trucks - anything that would normally cause the driver of a vehicle to slow down.
The unmistakable odor of the bayou filled her senses telling her that, although they had been traveling for what felt like hours without stopping, they were still in the state of Louisiana, though she could not tell where or which direction they were going in. The events of the day kept replaying in her mind over and over and she couldn't help but think 'What have ah gotten mahself inta?'
Without warning, Remy all of a sudden turned the bike off the main road and towards an unkempt looking roadside motel. The neon sign half-flashing precariously on the side of the ramshackle building did nothing to improve Rogue's first opinion of the place. The bike skidded to a halt in one of the many vacant parking spaces and Remy lept off without sparing a glance at her and walked brusquely up to the motel reception and went inside.
Rogue climbed off the bike and instantly shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her shaking arms as the temperature seemingly dropped - she glanced about her, searching for any sign as to where she was exactly. 'Th' Royal Bayou Motel. Royal mah ass' she thought sarcastically as she read the neon sign. Finding nothing other than that, she looked back towards the main building and could just about see Remy talking to who she assumed was the receptionist, though she could not be sure.
Another chill swept over her body as she watched Remy turn back around and head back outside and walk towards her. His face expressionless, he swept past her to the bike and removed his bag from the seat compartment and then stalked off towards the long row of single story, motel rooms. Rogue watched in utter contempt, here they were on what she supposed was 'the run' from God knows who and he wasn't even going to talk to her. She contemplated kicking up a fuss, but the serious, frown he had worn as he had approached her suggested it was a bad time.
Sighing resignedly, she followed him with her eyes as he stopped at one of the many scruffy-looking blue doors, push in a key and walk inside the room. Feeling another chill, she followed his route over to the motel room and stopped just inside the open doorway and grimaced as the powerfully stale stench of the room hit her like a brick wall. Trying desperately to ignore the unpleasant smell, her eyes drifted unenthusiastically around the room, taking in the dull, gray carpet that urgently needed replacing, drastically out-of-date furnishings and tea-stained floral wallpaper that had obviously seen better days.
She observed with confusion as Remy pulled up the surprisingly, clean sheets on the only queen-sized bed in the room. Dropping the sheets he stooped under it, ostensibly looking for something.
"So are ya' gonna tell meh what it is yoah doin' exactly or am ah supposed ta guess?" She asked sardonically. Crossing her arms decisively over her chest fighting another shudder, continuing to watch as he left the bed and checked the bathroom, refusing to answer her question. Not moving, her face contorted into a glare as he mulishly exited the bathroom, turned on the television and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Everyt'ing's okay" He spoke casually, his eyes transfixed on the screen as he switched the channels ridiculously fast. She seethed silently and a glare slowly adorned her features as he spoke. 'Everythin's okay! What th' hell does he mean everythin's okay?' She screamed wordlessly. Here they were, having left New Orleans quicker than you could say 'Boo', driven for miles and had ended up in some sordid motel room and he was barely acknowledging her existence.
Her blood pumped ardently throughout her body, her once cold limbs now burning. He owed her an explanation, no, more than that. He owed her a whole damn book worth of answers. But he paid no heed to her, just sustained his obnoxious stance in front of the television.
"Is that it? No explanation, nothin'" She asked heatedly.
"Not now" Was his emotionless reply. Rogue felt herself filling with rage, making her feel as though she was going to physically explode.
"Ah don't care what ya want. Ah want answers an' now!" She demanded furiously. Remy didn't even blink an eye. Rogue bit the inside of her lip firmly, and closed her eyes in frustration. Obviously screaming at him wasn't going to get her anywhere. Raising a hand, she rubbed her forehead as though massaging a particularly painful migraine and breathed slow and deep. Opening her eyes, she studied him as he sat before the television, still dressed in his tuxedo and trench coat, hunched towards the glass screen.
"Fahne, be that way. But ah want ta' know everythin'" She stated sternly before brushing past him towards the bathroom and slamming the door sharply behind her.
Leaving the bathroom minutes later, she walked quietly into the main room noticing that Remy was lying on one side of the bed asleep, his coat and jacket having been removed and placed on one of the two wooden chairs situated by the single window in the wall. Rogue watched for any sign that he was awake, but the slow rise and fall of his chest told her he wasn't. Walking further into the room she yawned and conceded that she wasn't likely to get anything out of him tonight and made for the free side of the bed. Pulling back the covers, she removed her shoes and climbed in quietly and pulled them as far over herself as she could considering Remy was lying on top of them.
Laying her head back on the pillow, she looked over at him and absent-mindlessly wondered how he could sleep with everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. However, the thought had barely crossed her mind when her own eyes drifted shut.
There he was in the church, the place shone in a strange warm, iridescent glow and pure white doves beset the stone aisle and the rafters above. The size-able arch doors were open, letting the light pour over the inside of the building - it was like a scene from a Hollywood movie and he was once again waiting nervously by the alter. Henry stood beside him, giving him a reassuring smile as the wedding march began. Looking behind him, he saw his Père and his Tante sat in the front row, surrounded by other members of his family all looking up to him, smiling tenderly and he felt himself ease.
He watched in awe as the bride surrounded by radiance made her way towards him and they both stood side-by-side in silence. He glanced over at her as she removed her veil and felt his heart become overwhelmed with joy as Rogue looked back at him, her beautiful green eyes smiling warmly, invitingly. He took her hands in his and looked on at this angel before him.
But there was something wrong with this picture, there was a dark shadow dancing around behind Rogue and he could only watch as the shadow drew up menacingly closer, finally revealing the livid face of Julien Boudreaux, a dagger clad in his fist.
Remy awoke suddenly, to a pair of angry-looking eyes directly in his line of view. In shock, he jumped up - almost falling off the bed and scrambling to bring himself to a steady composure.
"Merdé! Y' scared de hell out' o' me" He explained haggardly, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the person who had shocked him.
"Good, maybeh it'll bring ya t' ya senses" Rogue scorned insensitively as she sat statue-like on the bed, still in her dress and glaring contemptuously at him. Remy simply cocked his head to the side and looked on at her derisive attitude, she was very much the opposite of the Rogue in his nightmare.
"So, wheah th' hell are we?" She asked in the same manner. Remy sighed and lowered his head; she sure wasn't going to give him any slack. Lifting his eyes to her again, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him waiting for an answer. Remy let out a deep breath and walked away from her stopping just to take some clothing from the holdall, he needed a wash before he began re-telling one of the worst days of his entire life.
She watched him walk away from her in disbelief, yet again. How much longer was he going to put this off? Perhaps he wasn't going to tell her anything at all - 'Gahd, yoah so stupid! Y' honestly thought he cared 'bout ya an' was gonna tell ya everythin'? He's jus' a no-good swamp rat out for whatevah he can get!" She scolded herself for being so naive. What the hell was she waiting around for? Sighing despondently, she rubbed her arm consolingly and slowly, but surely stood from the bed. Putting her shoes back on, she collected the small bag she had been carrying since the wedding and left the room swiftly, not bothering to shut the door.
Remy shut the door behind him and came face to face with the drawn, fatigued visage of someone that looked like him. Rubbing his chin, feeling the stubble that had grown over-night he at last felt the overdue anguish and magnitude resting upon him. This was it. Was this to be the end of this tale - he wanted to think that it wasn't, but the way he felt right now told him different. Splashing his face with cold water he tried as best he could to avoid his reflection from the mirror above the sink, finding that whenever he did he immediately began reflecting upon himself - he didn't want to do that anymore.
Taking a quick shower and re-dressing himself, he exited the bathroom and went straight over to where the bag was resting on the floor, avoiding the area containing the bed. He would tell her, when he was ready - there was a lot to explain and once told, she would forever be burdened with it. Zipping up the holdall, he prepared himself mentally for his next challenge. Standing, he looked over to an empty room. His brow knit confoundedly, eying the room and noting the motel room door being wide open he stepped tentatively towards it.
There was no sign of any struggle and her shoes and bag were gone, sighing inwardly he pulled a hand through his hair, 'Merdé!' he thought jadedly. She had gone. Knowing she couldn't have gotten far, he picked up the bag and exited the motel, hoping she hadn't hitched a lift or bagged a ride since leaving.
The road was strangely devoid of traffic and despite the earliness of the day, the temperature had risen significantly. Rogue paced herself the best she could considering her attire and impatiently hoped that someone would appear and agree to give her a ride. She cursed herself non-stop for getting herself into this situation, only aggravating herself even more as she kicked a random stone as hard as she could, not caring where it went. The sun was already high in the sky and she knew that a few hours from now it would be unbearable to walk long-distance in. 'This has got ta be th' worst week o' mah lahfe' she thought testily.
Hearing the sound of an engine she turned, waiting in anticipation for the vehicle to come into view. Upon seeing the vehicle approach around the corner though she growled in frustration and turned her back again and continued walking at a fast pace. The bike slowed to match her own speed and Remy watched as she refused to acknowledge him.
"Rogue, what are y' doin?" He questioned, trying to keep an eye on the road as well as her.
"Go away Remy. Ah haven't got anythin' ta say t' ya" She replied stonily, keeping her eyes on the road beyond. Remy sighed.
"Look, I know dat I haven't exactly been truthful wit' y' . . ." He began, but was cut off as she whirled around swiftly, anger burning in her eyes.
"That's a load o' shit an' y know it. Ya drive meh out heah fo' no reason at all and then don't even bothah tellin' meh why!" Rogue yelled, arms thrashing in rage.
"I know an' I'm sorry . . ." He started but was once again cut off by Rogue's menacing stare and fitful voice.
"No! You asked meh if ah trusted ya . . . well ah don't!" She interrupted, in a strangely calm but harsh manner and then carried on walking. Her words cut deeper than they were intended too and Remy suddenly felt - empty. Stopping the bike and kicking down the stand, he dismounted and traced her steps rapidly.
"It was an arranged marriage t' bring peace between de guild of T'ieves and Assassins" She slowed to a halt, but did not turn around.
"Dere has been war between de two guilds fo' centuries. M' Père is de leader o' de t'ieves. He made a truce wit' de leader o' de assassin's dat if I married his daughter de fightin' would stop." He continued. Rogue listened intently and turned to face him at his last words.
"So yoah a thief?" She asked, unsure as to whether to believe him or not and watched him nod mutely.
"Why did y' hav t' leave then?" She quizzed, a little more tentatively. Remy caught her eye, but couldn't look at her.
"B'cause de assassins are probl'y after m' blood fo' not goin' t'rough wit' de weddin'" He mumbled.
"But what's all this got ta do with meh?" She probed firmly making him shift his feet uncomfortably.
"Not'in', but dey might t'ink dat y' had somet'in' t' do wit' me not gettin' married" Was the incomprehensible answer. Rogue's eyes bugged open at the response.
"What? Why?" She asked loudly, still not seeing how that notion could come about. Remy smirked a little at her outburst.
"Rogue, dese people are killers. Once dey get an idea in dere heads, dey don't let go until dat idea has been sorted." He replied, eerily sadistic looking her directly in the eye. Rogue tried to suppress the worry welling up in her stomach. Gulping she retained eye contact.
"What about yoah family, cain't they protect ya?" She asked quietly inquisitive. He snorted at the thought.
"Dey jus' as pissed as de assassins. Dey'll forgive me eventually, but at de moment I'm about as safe wit dem as I would be in a house full o' flyin' daggers" He concluded half-heartedly. Rogue soaked up the information she had just been given. It seemed so unbelievable, so far-fetched - perhaps thats what made it all make complete sense. Remy stood helplessly, waiting for her to say something, anything. The few minutes of silence that ensued were excruciating, until she spoke once more.
"So what are ya gonna do now?" She questioned.
"Dere's a guy I know in Vegas who might b' able t' help" He replied certainly. She nodded at his answer silently, not knowing what to do. Should she trust him, after all - it had taken him this long to tell her about the wedding - did she really want to put her trust in him. Her brain told her no, but her conscience said different. Remy closed the small gap between them and held her arms, looking intensely at her.
"I promise y', everyt'in will work out" He assured her softly. Rogue sighed resignedly and let him lead her back to the bike, thinking his words over - but no matter how much she tried, somehow she didn't quite believe him