Logan was beginning to notice the weight of Athena's bags upon his shoulders, though he wouldn't let her see it. He didn't want her to feel sorry or bad for him; Logan wanted to get to know the woman he had seen in those eyes of hers, and not see her look of pity or sorrow directed at him. He didn't turn around to see if Athena was still following him as they left the sort of "common room" of the X-men; Logan could simply hear the young girl's unclad feet step along the smooth marble of the Academy, and he was even more aware of her youth—the sound reminded Logan of the pitter-patter of young children.
Logan turned around as they reached the door of his room, smiling as he glanced at Athena. "Well, this is it. It's not much, but I hope it's enough." Athena smiled, gently putting her hand on Logan's shoulder, in a friendly manner. "It's just fine. Professor Xavier and Lupin have beautiful and amazing rooms . . . but I'm really more used to having a little less." Logan was confused at her statement— wasn't she the daughter of Lupin Solcannis? He had never met him, but Logan had heard snippets of statements from Xavier constantly saying that her father was one of the most powerful wolves east of the Atlantic. Why wouldn't a daughter of his have anything but the best?
However, Logan didn't press the young girl for an explanation; he knew that everything that he and the others were supposed to know would fall into their range of knowledge at one time or another. Opening the door, Logan was embarrassed at the state of his room; apparently, the maids and butlers hadn't been around since the afternoon. The bed was in a state of disarray, and some of Logan's clothes were left in a mess on the small couch that was near the window. But Athena entered normally, looked around, and found a space to put her bags in. She began to open her bags, first retrieving her cell phone from the bag, which held all of her clothes. Athena sat on the floor as she began to sift through all of the numbers on her phone and make some calls. Smiling when she saw that she hadn't missed any calls, Athena first made a call to her father. It was short because he wasn't at home, but Logan smiled as he recognized the loving relationship between Athena and Lupin. They were definitely father and daughter, no matter what Athena said to Logan. Athena ended the call, and then made a call to Lestat, not calling her brothers since she knew that her brothers and Lupin shared a single answering machine. Lestat was almost like a boyfriend, but closer—many people said, though Lestat had said nothing about the "m" word, that they might be married within two years. So when Athena made the call to Lestat, she forgot about her surroundings, and focused on her conversation. Happily finding that Lestat was home to answer his own cell phone, she told him about her journeys and the mutant school, and Lestat told her about his own work, and the progress of the daughter they had adopted together, who was from France.
While she was engrossed in her conversation, Logan had been listening discreetly while straightening up his room and preparing his day's worth of laundry. He was jealous of her and her boyfriend, who he thought she loved more than most girlfriends loved their boyfriends, because he would never have that. Sure, he loved Jean . . . but Jean was already deeply in love with somebody else. Scott. And she had told him, sternly, ever since the time that he had told her about his feelings, that, she had married a good guy and wanted to keep it that way—she would never leave Scott for anything or anyone. Even though Logan still cared about Jean deeply in his heart, he could never act on that passion. Now it seemed that something similar would happen; Logan wasn't in any way in love with Athena, but he wished he could get to know her a little better. He had a feeling that any effort he might make, however innocent and childish, would be interpreted as girlfriend-stealing by Athena's love. Logan sensed that Athena had a boyfriend who was tough, known for his hatred against those he didn't like, and, above all, strong as hell. He didn't want to get into a bad situation with a guy like that.
Logan, though he was immersed in his own thoughts, heard Athena end her conversation with Lestat. Loading dirty clothes into his hamper, Logan called to Athena, "Hey, I'm doing the laundry. Do you want to wash any clothes?"
"I've barely worn any, since I came over from London in wolf form. I'll probably start accumulating laundry by tomorrow, at the very latest." Athena said to Logan, flipping her hair out of habit. "All right, then," Logan said in a bit of a tired tone. "I'll be right back; I just have to put my clothes in the washer, and then we can talk or do something else, if you would like. You probably just want to get settled in right now." Athena nodded, smiling a "thanks" to Logan. Smiling back at her as he left the room, Logan almost forgot the pain of having to bring his clothes down to the washer himself, instead of having servants to do it. The laundry room was near the basement of the school, which Logan hated going to because it was so dark and dreary.
Athena sighed, plopping onto Logan's unmade bed. She didn't think he'd be back for a little while, so she took off her shirt, since she had been sweating so much. "Whew, what a nice but hot day," Athena said under her breath. Red sweat poured down her back, and the breastplate that was familiar to her present form was now visible. For Athena was a vampire and not just any sort of vampire—she was supposedly the Queen of all her kind. Though she wore a seventeen-year-old form, Athena was more than four thousand years old. In her mortal life, her mother had been Cleopatra of Egypt, and her father—from whom she had inherited her magical abilities—had been Antony. As a mortal, Athena had been born as a matrixa; the mother of the new race, in fact. Matrixas (males are called matrixs) are descendants of the Amazons, sent by the gods, primarily by Athena herself, for whom this young girl had been named. Athena, a powerful god of war and wisdom, had been named as Athena's life guide when she was born. However, her protection didn't help Athena's situation during her mortal life. Her parents had been killed in the war to make Egypt a Roman property, and Athena, in a way, had been a casualty of war.
She still remembered the days when love was uncomplicated; when the man she loved was destined for success, and was kind to her. Athena remembered virtuous love, and loving without having to worry about whether it was right, and whether she would regret it for the rest of eternity. More than romantic love, Athena remembered the feeling of salty sweat—instead of bloody sweat—running down her back as she spent a day with her mother, riding her white pegasus across the parts of Egypt that hadn't been settled by many people yet, and enjoying the feeling of wind in their hair. Athena remembered going to school, doing well, and making all of her professors, even her magic one, satisfied.
Most of all, she remembered her seventeenth birthday—the day when everything fell through.
Athena could still picture it in her mind; she could see herself graduating, first in her class, the only girl who went to an all-boys school in Egypt primarily for Roman children. She could feel the sun jubilantly upon her face, holding up the solid gold plaque, and feeling the quite heavy jewelry on her form that her mother had given her in celebration of her only daughter's success. Most of all, however, Athena was happy for the trip to Rome that day, when she got to see the two men in her life at the time who loved her well—her lover, whose name escaped her at this moment, and her father. She could remember her father's warm embrace and congratulations, as he spun her in the air as if she were a small child. Athena could also remember the sweet kiss and caress of her love, as he ushered her through the Roman menagerie of rare and exotic animals, brought from all corners of the world.
What she didn't want to remember—but would always see in her own face—were those two terribly sharp teeth lurking in the darkness.
Athena's dreams still haunted her; she remembered being seized by the old Queen of the Damned, Akasha, and being painfully turned into the creature of the night that she now was. Her heart had cracked in two when she first learned that her lover had been working with Julius Caesar himself; Caesar, terribly jealous that Cleopatra was in love with Antony and not himself, used Athena's love, promising him a bright future in the Senate, to turn her into the one thing that Egyptians hated in the whole world—vampires. Akasha had been paid by Athena's lover, and left her to rot after having changed her for all time.
Athena wanted to cry out and sob forever, having remembered these memories, but she had learned self-restraint over the years. For becoming a vampire was not the worst of Athena's experiences; she had been banished from her parents' house, given a minimal amount of gold and silver jewelry, and some clothes. Athena had had to live in the streets of Egypt even after her family's royal house had fallen, and soon was kidnapped by a Frenchman to work as a whore in Versailles, as her tragic beauty had struck someone's fancy. There, in the occupation of a whore, Athena had to wait, hoping that her heart was somewhere to be found in her chest.
Athena didn't want to think about how many years she spent that way until Lestat, a patron of Versailles who was "unable" to accept her services, freed her from that prison and gave her a home with Lupin Solcannis, who was more than thrilled to have a daughter such as this legendary woman, the mother of the race he was a part of-- for he was also a matrix, in addition to being a powerful werewolf. Having suffered so much, Athena, to Lupin's happiness, excelled in her modern-day magical studies, graduating with the highest grades that any student had ever had. Athena then embraced her past, embarking on a relationship with Lestat and coroneted as the new Queen of the Damned, sailing rather smoothly, until she came to lie upon Logan's bed, enjoying the comforts of a bed in America.
Athena rose from Logan's bed slowly, knowing that she had drifted into her own thoughts for a long while, and that Logan was bound to return soon—and he would see the breastplate that she wore as the Queen of the Damned. What would he think then? Athena, not wanting to find out, slipped her shirt back on, and carefully began to make Logan's bed for him. She had had enough experience making beds for her brothers, and within five minutes, the bed looked as if it belonged in a five-star hotel. Just as she finished, Logan reentered, hands in his pockets, dreading the cleaning up he would have to do in his room. But to his surprise, he saw that his bed had been made by Athena.
"Athena. Now you didn't have to do that. You're the guest . . . I'm supposed to be the one looking after you." Logan found himself warming up to the generosity of this young girl; not many people would help in such a manner when staying as a guest in such a place as the Academy. Drawing closer to her, smelling the fresh jasmine of her skin, Logan planted a small, chaste kiss on her cheek as a way of saying thank you. Athena's eyes widened in surprise; not even Lestat had ever kissed her like that, and she rather liked the softness of his lips and the potential for intense passion that lay behind the kiss. Lestat had always said that she read into displays of affection too deeply, but Athena couldn't help it . . . after all, she had lost everything once because she wasn't mindful of the intentions of the one she loved. But Athena chose to ignore what she saw in Logan's kiss, and just giggled like a child.
"Aw . . . Logan, thank you. But where I'm from, girls always have to look after the guys—because guys tend to be more messy than women are." Athena stuck her tongue out at Logan playfully, and Logan found himself smiling at her and her witty remark. Logan, in that moment, found something he liked in Athena, and that he seemed to click with her—he didn't know if they would turn out to be just good friends, or something else . . .. though Athena was quite beautiful, he didn't want anything else but friendship, thinking of her beau in London. Logan walked over to the couch and part of the room scattered with his own clean clothing (from the last load of laundry he had done just before Athena had fallen into his lap), and started to put back the dry clothing in his closet. Just as he finished, he realized, saying to himself as well as to her, "You know, you need a closet to put all your clothes in, and some drawers for your personal stuff. I think there's another closet here—" Logan tugged at the other end of his closet door, and uncovered another empty closet with clothes hangers in there. "Here you go. Put your clothes in there, and I'll go empty two drawers for your other things." Athena smiled as she watched Logan work productively for her sake; no one, not even Lestat, had ever done anything so simply benevolent for her. Taking out the clothes she brought with her, Athena began to fill her closet. There were some clothes that were meant to endure the change to wolf, some that were more provocative and meant for her daily training as a matrixa, and a few dresses from the Victorian era, just for such an occasion when a casual outfit would not be enough. Athena carefully looked over the second of her two Victorian dresses—for this one, a black dress that was indescribable in its beauty, was the first gift that Lestat had ever given her after freeing her from the life of a prostitute. Putting it away was like a sort of ceremony for her, and Athena sighed as she closed her closet, and walked over to Logan, waiting for him to empty two drawers for her clean unmentionables. Athena's eyes blinked subtly, and her voice was somehow even softer as well.
"Lestat? Lestat?" Athena softly said, but loud enough so that Logan could hear. He knew that she was calling him by Lestat, which was probably her boyfriend's name. He knew now that all of the possibilities that he had imagined with her were just fantasies—she loved her boyfriend too much to think of another man right now in her young life. As he finished cleaning out the drawers, filled with old papers and scribbles from the time just before Alkali Lake, Logan turned back to Athena.
"Athena, it's Logan. My name's not Lestat." Before he could make her realize her mistake, he saw that she had realized it on her own. Smiling a bit, he motioned towards her newly empty drawers, and he moved away in a respecting manner as she put her bras and underwear into each drawer, separating them as she emptied her clothing bag. When Logan heard the drawers sliding back into place for the last time, he walked back to Athena and offered to take her nearly empty bag— it now only had her cell phone in it. Taking her cell phone out, Athena accepted his help with a grateful smile, and they walked back to the main part of their room.
"Is Lestat your boyfriend's name?" Logan asked, a matter-of-fact tone in his voice.
"It is," Athena said, a bit of sorrow in her voice. "I miss him terribly."
Logan smiled, and, sliding Athena's closet open, he carefully put her now-empty bag under all of the neatly hung clothes in her closet. Sighing a bit, he turned back to Athena, seeing that she had put her cell phone, along with a family portrait of Lupin and her two brothers, on the night table that Logan had never even used. Family, though Logan had never had any, was something he appreciated when he saw, and he came over to Athena, standing next to her as she carefully looked at her family portrait. As Athena looked up at Logan, she saw his terribly attractive brown eyes, and a part of her wanted to scream out the truth about herself to the world, and especially this man, and not deceive those eyes that she wanted to sleep inside. But what was wrong with her? Athena knew that Lestat loved her, and that she loved him, but what she was beginning to feel for Logan was something entirely different. Spending time with Lestat was like a slow sweetness, and she found something stable in him—he was her rock, and giving over to him was more than just pleasurable. However, in the short time she had spent just with Logan—just under two days—she had found him to be a person that would be the type of boyfriend or lover that would deliver vast pleasure and be an addiction. Athena had seen many relationships pass her by in the four walls of Versailles, between other prostitutes and their customers, as well as between nobles, and she could have been qualified as an expert on love and its problems. Thus, she was used to thinking of the type of boyfriends that men she was attracted to would make, and deciding whether she would want them in her life or not. Usually, she could make a quick decision about any man, but she wasn't sure about Logan—the first time in her long life that she couldn't make a sure decision about a man. However, the last thing Athena wanted to think about now was men; she knew that she had to see Xavier to ask for the things she needed and had come for.
Moving away politely from Logan, she smiled at him, and kissed him chastely on the cheek, thanking him for all the things that he had done to make her feel more at home. She sped off, turning on one heel, headed for her American uncle's office. "Thank you. I'll see you in a bit," Athena said, saying quickly but in a clear manner.
All Logan could remember, however, with restraint in his face as she left, was the sweet press of her red, full lips on his cheeks in a gesture of thanks. Sighing, Logan felt that these times, and her presence, were not just coincidences for him—or for the rest of the people at the Academy, either.
