Chapter 17: Tidings of Comfort and Joy
The fire is immensely, but not frighteningly, powerful. In fact, Sabere is comforted surrounded by the potential destructive force. It speaks to her, its voice androgynous and soothing. I can save you, but there must be a trade.
The dream was not hers, but Jean sat up, startled awake. Scott stirred next to her but did not wake. She sat in the dark for a moment, trying to recall the vague scraps of memory…a familiar dream, or a real experience…or a vision of the past that someone else saw.
She would have to talk to Sabere.
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Sabere awoke one morning to find her room decorated in garlands and white lights, and despite dreams of powerful fire, she smiled. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe and inspected the decorations, wondering who had been stealthy enough to decorate her room without her noticing. Outside in the hall, more garlands draped across the ceiling, with clusters of white lights and round ornaments every few feet. And – she squinted down the hall at a suspicious cluster hanging at the top of the stairs, then looked up at her own doorway. Yep – mistletoe.
She ducked back out from under the plant, but she was too slow – Kurt 'ported into the hall, seized her wrist, and pulled her laughing back under the mistletoe. Sabere laughed and threw her arms around him, abandoning herself to the moment because there certainly hadn't been many lately. When they finally parted, Kurt whispered with a grin, "Good morning, Liebchen."
"Was this your idea?"
"The mistletoe? Surely you know who put that up."
Sabere shook her head, grinning. "Remy."
"I only took advantage of it before he could."
"Believe me, I'm thankful – but I doubt he'll be deterred."
"You can find a way to ward him off, I'm sure." Kurt wandered into her room and took one of her knives off the table by her bed, grinning. Sabere smiled a little. "I'll do better this time."
His smile faded a little and she wrapped her arms around him. "I didn't mean to kill the mood," she whispered. "They're decorating the tree this morning, right? Let's go help. Christmas cheer would do us some good."
"There is not much cheer around," Kurt replied, but followed her out of the room anyway. "Xavier is getting worse, and Magneto single-handedly crunched a battalion of UN tanks. Oh, and two students ran away last night. Jean tracked them to a cure clinic."
"Now who's killing the mood?" she demanded. Her stomach twisted into a familiar hopeless ball and she stopped by the window. "I keep forgetting…it's so nice for a few minutes, but then I remember – I dread going to sleep every night, because I either dream of cities burning or eyes or – " They both knew the last possibility and stayed silent. Sabere twisted her hair back into a knot and smiled grimly. "Sorry."
As an answer, Kurt pointed up at the window's frame, where another clump of mistletoe hung innocently. Sabere rolled her eyes and, with a smile, kissed him.
"He was thorough."
"He's desperate."
"He wouldn't go for the underage students, would he?"
"Nein. He may be a scoundrel but he does have standards." Theycontinued down the stairs to the common room that contained their Christmas tree.
Out the window, she could see the few students who were able to get home piling into a van in the brown slushy driveway. Sabere paused again to watch Kitty's heartfelt farewell to Piotr, who was staying behind. The low gray sky pressed down on them, and when Sabere blinked she felt tears roll down her cheeks. She walked on quickly before Kurt could notice.
A handful of students were gathered with the teachers in the massive common room. When the mansion was still a residence, it must have been a receiving room, but when it was converted to a school its more ostentatious ornamentations were removed. Today, the dark polished wood panels were dull under the gray sky, and the huge dark pine set against one wall seemed out-of-place. Colorful ornaments from past years lay across couches and chairs, gaudy against the rich fabrics. Soft small talk drifted around the tree as the small group reminisced over ornaments and commented on placement. One girl who could cling to the ceiling like a spider hung above the tree to place ornaments in the higher branches.
"Kevin, you can fly, can't you help with these?" she called tiredly, swinging one of her sore arms.
"I'm Jewish!" the boy grinned. Chuckles warmed the room a little, but Sabere could barely bring herself to smile. They were all just putting on a show. The kids may have been able to ignore Apocalypse, but the sudden illness their professor and father figure was something that loomed over them all. There had been some talk of the students who had gone home for the holidays, and how many of them would take the cure and not come back. A faint chuckle brought her attention to Scott, who had found a tiny photo in a festive frame. He held it out for them to see – it was of him and Jean, both in their early twenties and showing off burn lines on some tropical beach. Storm smiled and took the ornament from him.
"I took this picture – remember, that was the year we all went to the Florida coast for some down time." She hung the photo as high as she could reach.
"And then Juggernaut showed up," Scott remembered.
"And we had those old uniforms, remember, the horrible polyester ones, and we were all sunburned – " Jean laughed. "Never mind the fight, the pain of moving in a tight uniform was deadly!"
Reminiscent chuckles faded and silence fell. Sabere found her favorite ornament, a delicate blue glass thread twisted into a sphere, and wove her fingers around the brittle branches and wire loop. The smell of pine and memories of more joyful Christmases washed around her. She stood there longer than she thought, the ornament hung but with her fingers still resting on the branch, thinking of last year, and the year before, and the year before, and a long-ago childhood so peacefully normal it didn't seem to be hers…hot chocolate and walks in the snow and warm fires…power, relaxing, calming…
She jumped as a fire rose up in the hearth. A shrieking hiss, almost like the cry of a bird, went through the room, carrying the warmth of the fire with it. The X-Men looked at the fire in surprise, then at each other. Sabere tried to ignore the fact that Jean was watching her closely.
"When did we get another pyrokinetic?" Logan asked. No one answered.
A thunderous knock on the front door prevented the silence from lingering. Scott went out to answer it and Sabere backed carefully away from the tree.
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Jean watched as Sabere chose another ornament with shaking hands and placed it in the tree. If the fire meant what she suspected, it would explain a lot…seeing Sabere's visions when Sabere didn't know how she was broadcasting them; dreams of fire, just like when Stryker was planning to use Dark Cerebro…it would make sense. But why was it back?
"Hey, old-timers!" A grinning young woman of about twenty burst into the room and dropped her worn-out duffel on the floor.
"Tabitha?" she asked in surprise. Tabitha had been one of Xavier's prize students when she came to the mansion over eight years ago, but she was feisty and didn't follow rules too well. Before Xavier could bring himself to expel her, she had hit the road and no one had seen her since.
"Surpised? Me too." Tabitha adjusted the bandana that was restraining her short blonde curls and plopped down in a chair. "Beast managed to track me down and told me what was up. I've been looking for a job so I figured I'd see how the old place was doing."
"Unfortunately you're not getting paid," Beast cautioned. "And the insurance coverage is less than stellar."
Tabitha threw her head back and laughed. "Whatever, ape-man. I'm here for the fight, and that's that." She smiled around the room. "Wow, tons of new faces. I know you…and you, and you're still here?"
Sabere slipped out of the room as soon as she was introduced, smiling faintly – the smile she wore when she wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else. Jean looked briefly at Scott, communicating her concerns, and followed Sabere out of the mansion.
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For the first time in weeks, Sabere was close to hysterics. She meandered across the grounds, her hood up over her head and her arms twining her jacket around her sides like she was wounded. The lake, partially frozen and bordered with brown slush, materialized in front of her feet and she came to a sudden halt. The girl, Tabitha, who claimed to make bombs of light from her hands, she had come just to fight – she wanted to die –
And she was so powerful…Sabere could see it just by listening to her talk. Tabitha was a confident and capable girl, and she would obviously be strong in combat. But strength and talent was not what they needed now – Apocalypse could take powers, and if they brought more powerful mutants to face him he would replicate their powers and be even more indestructible. There was no chance anymore. Not that there ever was…
Despair overwhelmed her, and she sobbed and collapsed to her knees in the icy mud. The images of New York, the red eyes, Xavier weakening by the day, the constant threat of friends abandoning them for the cure, all her terrified thoughts of failure and death, and fire –
The sun broke faintly through the clouds, and the reflection glimmered weakly on the surface of the lake. The wavering light strengthened, moved – two points grew into winglike shapes – the hissing cry returned –
Jean's hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked up at the older woman, then quickly back at the lake. The bird in the light was gone.
Jean folded her arms and stared vacantly into the water where the reflection had been. "What did it tell you?" she asked finally.
Sabere frowned. The words wouldn't come to her, even though she had heard them so often in her sleep… "I can't remember."
Jean sighed and wandered a few steps away, looking up at the clouds as they pushed over the last of the weak sunlight. "Don't listen to it. It's…dangerous. Have you talked to it?"
"I can't remember." And it was true. All she remembered of the dreams of the bird were vague images of fire and a sensation of confidence and protection.
"Don't listen to it," Jean repeated. "I don't care what it promises. Tell it to leave."
"What is it?" She had never seen Jean like this before. The fact that she knew about the power was strange enough, but telling her she couldn't trust this amazing protection was alarming.
"The next time you dream about it, tell it to leave." Jean's eyes bored into her, marking the instructions into her mind. "If you come to me and tell me it's never coming back, I'll tell you what it is. Don't trust it, and don't let it take you." With that, she turned and headed back to the mansion.
Sabere's numb legs protested as she got unsteadily to her feet. Her despair gave in to the numbness as well – if they couldn't trust this power that had offered to save them, what hope did they have?
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Angel arrived, fittingly, on Christmas Day. Sabere saw him flying in as she passed the balcony in her bathrobe, and was certain that she was having another vision of their death, even though this one was far more peaceful. The handsome blond man introduced himself as Warren Worthington, and had to escort her to the gathering around the tree since she was so overwhelmed.
"Thanks for waiting on the snow," Warren grinned, kissing Storm briefly on the cheek. If nature didn't bring its own snow (which it hadn't this year), Storm gave them at least a foot so they could enjoy a white Christmas every year.
"Didn't want you to arrive any wetter and colder than usual," she replied. "Welcome back, Warren."
The snow, the glowing tree, smiling students, and the presence of an angel certainly made the morning look festive, but Sabere could tell from the couch that no one was fooled. Smiles faded too quickly, laughs were too forced, and everyone was just too quiet. Xavier sat wrapped in a typically elegant dressing gown, but everyone could see how his disease was taking effect. He seemed thinner under the sophisticated fabric, and his eyes were sunken in paler skin. She wrapped her own robe closer to herself and curled up on the couch. It could have been so much happier…
The rest of the day passed in a daze. Bags of shredded wrapping paper piled up by the fireplace, along with stacks of boxes. The younger students marveled over each other's new gadgets while the adults set up for dinner. Sabere, like most of the mansion, finally abandoned pajamas for slacks and a sweater, joining the vain attempt to make the day more festive. Hundreds of candles were lit all through the halls and dining room, and the tree's lights and orange candlelight cast their glow across dark wood and calm faces. Glasses of champagne were passed around in quiet murmurs, and once the younger students got their glasses of sparkling cider they gathered around the tree and talked quietly, laughing seldom. After a while, the murmurs began to ring in her ears. She couldn't take anymore of it and went out on the balcony.
Sabere leaned against the wall, watching the snow falling silently on the grounds. It may have been warmer inside, but the forced festivities were unbearable. The dark night and the glowing snow muted the quiet sounds inside, so she was surrounded by peaceful silence. Out here, nature went on, and if she tried, Sabere could almost forget what was happening.
The terrace door opened and closed behind her. Two yellow eyes appeared in the shadows, and Kurt stepped out into the snow to join her. He did not crouch on the banister like he usually did; instead, he enfolded her in an embrace and they stood watching the snow.
"Neither of us seem to enjoy parties much," she said, smiling.
"Actually, I'm a messenger." Kurt grinned mischievously. "Remy is looking for you. It seems some of his mistletoe fell down and he needs your help putting it back up."
Sabere groaned and laughed. "There are two perfectly wonderful single women in this mansion and he has to chase me."
"I think he has realized that both of them could do great harm to his person if he tried to seduce them," Kurt replied.
"Well, at least he's enjoying himself."
"You are not?"
She drew back and scooped a handful of snow off the railing. "I'm trying. I think that's what's bothering me – we're all trying, because we can't actually be happy. Everything's falling apart."
"Don't despair yet." Kurt threw his own snowball far into the trees. "It is beyond our hands now."
Sabere added to her handful of snow and dropped it straight down, watching it impact in the spotless snow below. Kurt's hand caught her eye, contrasted against the snow on the railing. Indigo skin and something in his hand – also dark blue – velvet?
"I have been carrying this around for some time – not knowing when, or how, to ask – "
Oh my God. A box. A blue velvet jewelry box.
Kurt opened the box to reveal the brilliant diamond. "I do not need to tell you that you are the most wonderful woman I have ever known, and I don't even think I could find the words to do so – but since I love you so – will you marry me?"
Her heart sang in such complete and utter bliss that she couldn't move. Kurt must have misunderstood, because he started to close the box, but Sabere seized his hands with a choked-off laugh. "No, no, no, darling, wait – " She took the ring from the box, slid it carefully onto her finger, and looked up at him, loving every bit of him, his odd eyes and the way his hair fell into them, everything. "Nothing in the world would make me happier."
And she knew then that nothing in the world, no war, no cure, would ever come between them again.
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She slid quietly back into the party, surrounded by a warm joyous glow that nothing could dissolve. Three conversations glided past before Storm found out. They were talking quietly about the success of her snowstorm when she suddenly shot out her hand and seized Sabere's left. An enormous smile slid uncontrollably onto Sabere's face, while Storm's lit up with joy and surprise.
"Finally!" she shouted joyously, and hauled Sabere into the middle of the room by her wrist, hand held high to show off the new ring.
"We all know this Christmas hasn't given us much to celebrate," Storm announced, raising her glass, "but it looks like one of the Institute's lovebirds has finally popped the question. Where did he go anyway?"
Kurt stepped shyly into the middle, and Storm released Sabere's wrist so they could embrace. "To Kurt and Sabere," a voice called, and the common room echoed the toast. Sabere drained a glass that had appeared in her hand, and from somewhere near the tree a voice whispered, "Kiss!"
So they did.