Author's Note: Thanks again everyone for the reviews! I love your reactions, brings a smile to my face! I like a good mimic in my stories, call-backs as well, keep that in mind as we start towards the latter half of this fic!
Emily Rose as Mercy LeBeau
Niall Matter as Claude
Chapter Thirteen
Thieves Guild House
Thieves stole, that was what they did by definition, so it made absolute sense that their guild house wasn't some run down shack or seedy warehouse, but a full on New Orleans mansion near the center of town complete with gated fence, latest security measures, and long drive way. Several Guild Houses were dotted around the city but the one they approached was special, it had been Henri's.
Rogue had no doubt Gambit could have snuck into the mansion easily enough but that wasn't the point.
The guard at the gatehouse was been struck somewhere between terrified and relieved when he saw LeBeau appear, but he pulled himself together and called up to the house. Moments later a man came jogging down the drive, about her age, brown hair and that same thieves gait. He stopped just beyond the closed gate and took stock of the Cajun, as if he was trying to reconcile memories against the man. "You shouldn't have come back, Remy."
"You honestly expected me not to, Claude?" the thief replied.
The man sighed, signaling for the guard to open the gate. "Get inside, da assassins like to keep watch on da houses. Half of N'Orlean probably know you're here by now."
"Taken care of," Rogue quelled the man's worries. She swept the area clean before Gambit even got a mile from the mansion.
Claude looked over at the red head as if he had just seen her, not exactly a smart thing for a thief to overlook, but she supposed he was a bit taken aback by LeBeau's appearance. "Who's this?"
"She's with me," Gambit replied easily and though wary, the other thief accepted it.
The three walked up the drive and while the Cajun kept looking straight ahead, she gawked at the beauty of the grounds and the southern style mansion with tall colonnades and wrap around balconies. As they got closer more and more individuals funneled out onto the balconies or peered through windows. After what Jacob had told her about the treaty she figured Gambit coming back would be something of a spectacle, but it was another thing to be standing in the thick of it.
Walking through the house she could see everything from pool tables to pick pocket training rooms complete with dressed up dummy's with bells on them. However, the area was eerily silent as everyone watched the excommunicated thief's return from shadows and doorways. There was a trepidation in the air, so heavy she could taste it.
They traveled up to the second floor where the living quarters would be, Gambit told her that the younger kids stayed together in big dorms while the trainers and House Patriarch had their own rooms. Henri had been a House Patriarch, one step below Guild Patriarch and part of the Council. Mercy took over the position after his death.
Heading into a suite of rooms, a woman stood from a sofa. Mercy LeBeau had soft features hidden in a strong composure, made all the more striking by the black blouse and pants she wore.
"Mercy," the Cajun said respectfully as they approached, taking off his hat, a genuinely respectful gesture that almost surprised Rogue.
"Remy LeBeau," she spoke the words like she didn't know what to do with them, "I oughta hog tie you and put your worthless hide on da first train North, dat's what Henri woulda done."
"Aye," he agreed, bowing his head slightly.
The woman looked she was just about to give the word to fetch a rope but her composure broke and she moved forward to give her brother-in-law an embrace. They hugged each other tight, like the two old friends who lost someone they both loved dearly that they were.
"I miss him, Remy," she heard the woman say softly.
"I miss him too," he returned the statement quietly.
She stood back, fighting tears and pulling herself together with a strength Rogue had to admire. "Now, I know you'd not come back here unless you found something, tell me, Marius behind dis?"
"Non," he said with confidence, "but can't speak for others in his Guild."
"Dat troublesome news," Mercy rolled the news around in her head, then her eyes fell on the other woman, "Forgotten your manners, Remy?"
"Mercy, dis is Rogue," he gestured towards the red head and Rogue offered up an attempt at a smile. "She's my backup, in case you tried to send me on dat train."
"Still considering it," Mercy reminded him, giving the female mutant the once-over before gesturing to the sofa, "sit, tell me why you came back to put us all at risk."
…
It was half conversation, half interrogation, Mercy making sure that she got every detail out of her brother-in-law, the ones he forgot and the ones he avoided, especially those. He got the painful moment of Henri's death out of the way first, recounting how he chased down the assassin but ultimately didn't kill him. Mercy was glad, Henri wouldn't have wanted it that way, the Russian was just a man hired for a job, making a living same as everyone else, and when it ain't personal, you don't make it so.
Besides, the Moscow Guild doesn't accept failure and getting caught… that was a loose end that would take care of itself.
Then there was the Catherine Vault theft, Mercy acknowledging what an impressive feat it was to have stolen anything from the complex, though Remy admitted that the Brotherhood of Mutants made an excellent distraction. That's when the red head with the white streak came into the story. She had been part of another break in that was as equally impressive, but Remy's actions had led to the woman having to fight her way out of the Vault, also not an easy thing to do.
Apparently it took a fair amount of convincing to get her to help with the Worthington heist, though not the kind of 'convincing' she'd come to expect from her brother-in-law.
Turned out the woman was a mutant, a flying/strength one, but that wasn't all. These were the hardest details to get out of her brother-in-law. He seemed to have a respect for the woman, Rogue he called her, and was only going to share as much as he had to. Mercy knew enough of Remy to know that if he was willing to trust the other mutant to watch his back then the red head deserved her consideration.
However, as the story progressed, there was much that didn't add up.
"No, he doesn't sound familiar," Mercy thought over the description of the man who had given Courier the package. "Claude?"
The second-in-command shook his head, "I'll speak to Emil, if anyone would know, he would."
"Emil," Gambit laughed the name, "figured he'd be in jail."
"He was," she stifled a grin, "many times."
"Gets himself caught," Claude didn't bother hiding his smile, "just so he can break out again."
"He's downstairs, took over Henri's lock picking classes," she paused, scared that she'd never get used to the idea that her beloved was gone, even more frightened that she might, "though I doubt any work is getting done today. Why don't you go talk to him, and da other trainers, someone has to know who da man was."
He nodded at her, giving her a knowing look. Seeing Remy was painful as while he may look nothing like his adopted brother the two had a kindred that went beyond blood. Mercy needed a moment to breath… and to cover all the angles.
"Rogue," she called to the woman as she was about to follow the thief out the room, "you should stay, thieves don't like strangers."
The red head glanced over at Remy, "Gambit?"
"She's right, petite, dey may not talk if you're around," he tipped his hat back onto his head, "don't fret, when I need you, you'll know."
Rogue nodded and the men left the room leaving the two of them. The outsider looked awkwardly around, tucking gloved hands into her coat pockets, it was March but surely she wasn't that cold? The woman glanced over at a Picasso that hung over the fireplace, "Nice painting."
"Yes," Mercy replied, trying not to let the memories of her last anniversary with Henri come to the surface, there was time to think about him later, right now she had a Guild to protect and this stranger could pose a threat.
The younger woman examined the photos on the mantel politely avoiding conversation, eyes stopping on the wedding portrait of herself and Henri before drifting off again. Rogue seemed more interested in the one of her, Henri and Remy after a trip to England, looking at it as if she might have seen it before.
A good interrogation starts with some kind of report, and Mercy knew she'd have to make the first move. "Dat was years ago," she let the red head know, "after we stole da Crown Jewels from da Tower of London."
That caught Rogue's attention and she turned her head, a surprised look on her face, "They were stolen?" her accent was clearly Mississippian, something Remy had neglected to mention.
"Yes, many times," Mercy pressed on and couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips, "da Jewels are listed among da Guilds as strictly 'catch and release'. It's a test, a rite of passage as it were, you're not worth your metal if you haven't stolen da Crown Jewels at least once."
A curl formed on the woman's lips, "At least once?"
"Dat," Mercy pointed at the photo, "was fifth for me, sixth for Henri… Remy lost count. He likes to have a go every time dey up da security measures."
"I imagine he does," she let out a chuckle.
"He calls you Rogue," the House Matriarch ventured, testing the waters, "don't you have a proper name?"
There wasn't even a small pause, "I suppose everyone does."
Interesting reply, and she wondered, "You only go by Rogue den?"
"Suits me fine," the woman shrugged.
A decent thief, handy in a fight, smart, strong willed, Southern, and just a bit cryptic, Mercy had to smile, "I see why he likes you."
Rogue laughed, shaking her head, "I'm just tha hired muscle."
"Non," she wasn't amused, "by my count dat's not been true for at least two countries now."
The red head gave her a look that said 'figured that one out, didn't yah' and replied, "It's my choice ta be here, don't matter ta anyone else."
"My husband was murdered," Mercy countered sternly but calmly, turning fully towards the other woman, "and my brother in law is brazen enough to send dis city spiraling back into war. It matters to me quite a bit. Now, you're obviously not sleeping with him, yet. Is dat why you're here?"
Rogue laughed, "Do yah think that would be an issue if that's what I wanted?"
"Fair point," Mercy had to give her that one, her brother-in-law's reputation, while somewhat blown out of proportion, was very well deserved, "Den why are you here?"
The woman tried to stand up to the thief's gaze, but not many could, not even Remy LeBeau. When Mercy wanted something, she had it, there was no question, no chance, it was hers.
The mutant sighed, "Would ya believe because I'm a hypocrite?"
"Yes," it was a legitimate response, however, "but dat doesn't explain da why."
Rogue looked over her shoulder as if she expected Remy to walk back in the door and she didn't want him to hear what she said next, "I've been here, had a loved one taken from me, had tha burning desire for revenge which drives every action upon compounding action."
The words were so sad, raw, it could only mean, "Didn't end well, I take it."
"Not for them," she said with a quiet pain and there was no doubt in the thief's mind that the woman meant every word she said next. "In a way, I got exactly what I wanted… and I've regretted it every day since."
"Dat's why you're a hypocrite," Mercy almost felt sorry for the woman, almost, "you're helping him do exactly what you regret doing. Why?"
"Because I could tell him how this will all end, but he wouldn't listen," Rogue gave a resigned sigh. "I wouldn't have… but no one should have ta go through this alone."
Mercy could relate, she knew that nothing good could come of Remy returning, either because of the treaty or his own lust for revenge. She remembered how he was a decade ago, all that pain he crammed down into his soul for the sake of the Guild, the family. Now that his family was hurt once again he didn't have it in him to walk away a second time… and in a way, "I'm a hypocrite too."
"Pardon?" the other woman blinked.
"Every year da Guild Houses have dese games," she picked up the photo of the three of them, "a test of skills and a chance to mingle. All da girls of my House, well, dey would spend their time talking about Remy, da most charming and dashing thief since Jean-Luc himself," she ran her hand over her beloveds image, "I went with dem to see what da fuss was about. Remy could have been running around naked with bells on his feet and sparklers in his hair, I only had eyes for Henri from da moment I saw him."
"I never met Henri," Rogue said quietly, then oddly, "but what I know of him, he seemed like a good man."
"Da polar opposite of his brother," she let out a small laugh, "reserved, calm, even shy… but mostly he was sweet, caring, brilliant. A great thief mind you, da best, better dan Remy even, not dat he would ever let him know dat. He'd never want to take dat wind from his brother's sail. Remy may have been adopted, but Henri treated him as blood."
The red head looked as if she might say something but thought better of it. Mercy couldn't blame her, what was there to say in a situation like this. She didn't know her or Henri, barely knew Remy. Rogue was an outsider, but Remy trusted her, perhaps that's why Mercy felt a bit more at ease telling her this.
"Henri was sure someone was putting undo leverage against Jean-Luc and Marius, attempting some kind of takeover of da Guilds," she put the photo back onto the ledge. "His duty was first and foremost to da family… and I know dat is why he was murdered," her jaw tightened. "Remy coming back can only cause trouble, put da family in more danger and Henri wouldn't want dat."
"Henri went ta Gambit," Rogue pointed out softly.
"I know," she said quietly, "which tells me Henri believed dat whatever is happening is bigger dan da family, bigger dan da treaty."
"That why ya gonna let Gambit stay?" she asked.
"No," Mercy looked into the woman's green eyes, "I want Remy to find da bastard responsible, tear him to pieces and feed him to da gators, Guild and treaty be damned," she gave out a choked sob at finally being able to say that out loud, she would gladly let New Orleans burn if it got revenge against her beloved's death.
"But…" the matron thief hesitated, "it's not what Henri would have wanted. Not for me, not for Remy, not for da family. I find myself stuck at an impasse…"
Silence passed between them, neither able to put words to the moment.
Mercy placed the photo back on the ledge, "Seeing as you've been down dis road, Rogue, can any good come of it?"
The red headed, white streaked, mutant considered the question for better than a moment but less than an eternity before saying, "Tha road hasn't ended yet, don't think it ever will."
Mercy nodded, understanding, "Den perhaps you can be our conscious, no? Steer us onto da right path?"
"Nah," she slightly laughed, the tired echoes of someone too far gone to come back, "I may have more than enough conscious running around my head, but I ain't no Jiminy Cricket. Besides, you seemed ta have already figured it out yourself, and Gambit, well, I told yah, he not gonna listen to me."
"Rogue," Mercy put her hand on the woman's shoulder and she flinched slightly at the move but the thief pressed on, "from what I know of Remy, I think you might be surprised."
…
Rogue was unsure what to make of the woman's words but was saved from trying to piece everything together by the thief's return.
"Well?" Mercy asked as Gambit, Claude, and a tall man with red hair walked through the door.
"Non," Gambit answered, a grimace on his face.
"Could be he's not from here," Mercy ran through the options, "or some kind of patsy, a tourist given a few c-notes to give da Courier a package."
"Been considered," the Cajun nodded, then grinned, "think you can spare a ride, Mercy, need to take a trip to da swamp."
The Matriarch smiled, "Of course, Claude will see to it."
Rogue watched the knowing grins pass between them. "What's in tha swamp?"