Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Jean1 brings up some interesting points, and I will say that Mercy and Rogue aren't exactly removed from the situation and seeing things through their grief and guilt. As for Gambit, definitely keep in mind what he said to Jacob on the plane. ;-)
Octavia Spencer as Tante Mattie
Richard Chamberlain as John-Luc LeBeau
Chapter Fourteen
The Swamp
When Gambit said swamp, he wasn't kidding. It took one of those flat bottom boats with a large fan for propulsion to get across the lily laden waters, tall thin trees rising ghostly above them. Rogue had never been on one of the boats before and she found she quite enjoyed it, it was like flying but without the guilt that came with it.
Eventually they pulled up to a dock and she saw a rather large shotgun house set farther back on more solid ground. Painted a deep brown with all manner of VooDoo hexes and charms hanging off it, the long bungalow looked both intimidating and oddly inviting at the same time.
"We'll wait at the boat," Claude referenced himself and their driver.
Gambit didn't seem too sure about that but ultimately nodded, "Come, cheri, want you to meet my Tante Mattie."
"Tante," she rolled the word around as he hopped off the boat first, "that means Aunt, right, in French?"
"Oui," he smiled as he offered her his hand to help her off. With a raised brow and slight shake of her head she let him help her even though she could have just flown to the dock. It was kind of nice, most people who knew of her ability wouldn't even do something so relatively safe, but Gambit never once flinched away from her since Russia.
The only other men to do that were Pyro and QuickSilver but then they had known her for years and it had taken that long for them to finally feel comfortable around her. The thief only had days…
She really needed to stop reading into things, it was going to lead to nothing but trouble.
As they approached the house, Rogue was surprised at Gambit being able to use a front door, properly. Though they didn't have to wait long after he knocked as the door swung open and a chocolate whirlwind of flowing beige linen and braided tresses swept up the Cajun in a bear hug, "Remy LeBeau, knew he'd never forget his Tante Mattie!"
Gambit laughed like a kid being tickled by his grandmother, "Remy never forget his Tante Mattie."
"Ah, Tante Mattie knew you'd be here, put on da jambalaya, your favorite," she said and Rogue was able to get a good look at the woman, older but her dark, rich colored cherub face was smooth of too many wrinkles. Her plain dress was adorned with the same hexes and charms as on the home.
"Smells good, Tante Mattie," he smiled and followed the woman into the house which looked exactly as one would expect from the outside, complete with smoky incense and a few hanging chickens… hexes…. and… other things… "but can't be staying long, gonna have people after me soon, if dey aren't already."
"Now where your manners, Remy LeBeau," she knocked the hat from his head, "yah in doors, Tante Mattie taught you better dan dat."
The thief managed to catch the trilby before it hit the ground, bowing his head in shame for a moment before gesturing to Rogue, "Tante Mattie, dis is Rogue, friend of mine helping me to find out what happened with Henri."
Rogue caught the word friend and catalogued it away.
"Nasty business dat," the woman shook her head, laying a cloth on a circular wooden table, "told him, Tante Mattie told him dat an ill wind was coming and brought with it blood," she started to pull items from an old buffet, "but he was always da protector, he'd give his blood to protect da family," she chunked everything on the table, "now Remy is back to pay on dat debt."
"Aye, Tante Mattie," he said sadly.
"You always had more heart dan sense," Tante turned from where she was situating the junk, a short blade in her hand held non-threateningly, "you hide it under dat hat but Tante Mattie knows better. You be playing a very dangerous game dis time, could set dis city ablaze with a snap of your fingers, you want dat?"
"Non, Tante Mattie," he shook his head, acting like a five year old who's been admonished by his grandmother, "and I will try my best, but Remy can't let dis one go."
Tante Mattie's features turned soft and she reached up, holding his head in her hands, knife carefully positioned, "Of course yea can't child, dat's why Tante Mattie help you," and with that she cut a lock of his hair from his head.
"Merci, Tante Mattie," Gambit seemed relieved and not at all fussed about the sudden grooming.
Tante Mattie tossed the hair into a large bowl, then turned her blade towards Rogue, reaching up to take a similar lock. Instinctively Rogue backed off, both from the blade and the woman's bare hands.
"Don't fret child," Tante Mattie admonished her, "Tante Mattie know better dan to touch skin."
Rogue was stunned by the woman's knowledge of her condition since it was something Gambit hadn't mentioned to anyone since they arrived in New Orleans. The shock was enough to allow Tante Mattie to sneak in and cut a lock of her hair, specifically the end of the natural white streak parted down the side. She tossed the hair into the bowl with Gambit's and proceeded to light incense.
"Now, Tante Mattie will talk to da spirits," she started to poor something that looked suspiciously like blood, chicken Rogue hoped, over the hair and then tossed in a few other miscellaneous bits the red head didn't dare ask about.
Gambit stepped off a bit to give the woman some room and Rogue joined him, "I'm beginning to see a resemblance."
The thief smiled an honest smile, "Tante Mattie was my… nanny, I guess, she helped to raise me and Henri while mon père saw to Guild business."
"Yah take a lot after her," she found herself returning the smile, "it's sweet, even a little endearing."
He looked at her a little sideways, "Even Remy's penchant to refer to himself in da first person?"
Rogue tried to hide a grin, "Maybe."
His eyes twinkled and Rogue began to fully understand what people meant by the charm of Remy LeBeau. He was happy, amongst all the pain that was happening in his life, he found a small island of joy in seeing his Tante Mattie again. It was that kind of true happiness which she found infectious, not the snake charm that he dosed out to the unsuspecting.
Fighting the draw she felt towards the man she asked, "How did she know about my skin?"
"Dunno," he shrugged, "Tante Mattie's been around for a long time, always had a way of knowing things, past, present, future. Was a great help to my father, and his father..." he paused awkwardly as if it had just occurred to him, "and his father."
Rogue looked at the woman who was in a trance, mumbling something as she 'communed with the spirits' and she didn't look a day over 50, "No way she's that old."
"She got to be pushing a hundred by now," he seemed pretty sure, as if he was running the numbers in his head.
Extraordinarily young-looking, knew things she really shouldn't, "Could she be a mutant too?"
Gambit blinked a few times, "I'm not really sure."
"We all be mutants of one kind or another," Tante Mattie called out, coming around the table.
"Dat we are, Tante Mattie," the thief agreed, giving the woman a knowing smile.
"Da spirits, dey tell Tante Mattie dat you will find da answers you seek tonight at da Presbytere," she put her hands on the man's shoulders, "but be warned child, having da answers don't mean you'll be finding what you looking for."
"Remy understand, Tante Mattie," he smiled at her, giving her a warm hug, "merci."
"Now, you don't be thinking of running off before visiting your Tante Mattie again," she admonished him.
"Remy won't think anything of da like," Gambit replied back, laughing.
Tante placed her hands on his cheeks, "Den may da spirits go with yea, child."
He took her hands in his and held them together, nodding his thanks, gratefulness, and every other emotion even a regular person wouldn't be able to express in a moment like this. Since arriving in New Orleans Rogue had felt like an interloper and never as much so than in this moment.
"Thank you again, Tante Mattie," Gambit said softly then went to leave, "I'll be having dat jambalaya soon enough, promise."
Moving to follow the thief out, Tante Mattie caught her hand, "Child."
Why did people keep stopping her from following Gambit? "Tante Mattie?"
"We all have our pain, child, our burdens," the older woman said quietly, "and you carry yours here," she pointed at Rogue's temple, "but you think it's here," she gestured to Rogue's hands, "If you fix here," she hovered her hand over Rogue's heart… "den dis," her head… "and dis," her hands… "will fix demselves."
Rogue found herself perplexed, trying to figure out the woman's words which sounded straight forward enough but, "I don't understand."
"One day, child, you will," she smiled, but then frowned, "but dey here now, he gonna need you."
Glancing over her shoulder, the Cajun had already left and she got a sudden sinking feeling. Pulling away from Tante Mattie she ran to the door, opening it quickly and dodging outside.
Gambit stood only about fifteen feet away, perfectly still, no cards or staff at the ready. Flanked around him were at least two dozen men, some with batons or staffs, but no handguns or assault rifles. At the apex of the circle stood a tall, lithe man with graying hair and a stony face. He looked so familiar to her but she couldn't be sure if it was her own memories or the thief's she was basing that off of.
"Gambit?" she asked quietly, stepping up behind him.
"Who's da woman?" the leader said, barely giving her a glance.
"She's with me," came the reply and Rogue was definitely detecting a pattern.
"Um," she spotted Claude and the driver sitting in the boat, a guard on them too, several more of the boats lining the dock, "should I start punching people?"
"No need yet, cheri," the thief answered, "just having a friendly chat with my father."
"John-Luc," she said the word as Gambit's memories flooded to the forefront. Henri was built like his mother's side of the family, but you could see the resemblance to his father in the eyes and line of the jaw. Remy may have been adopted but there was no mistaking that the men shared the same stance, air of confidence, even the damn cane.
"Giving you da chance to leave on your own, Remy," John-Luc called out in an even timber, "we can keep dis from Marius and perhaps avoid another war."
"Non, père," the son's voice was equally matched, "not dis time. Da Guild is being threatened, Henri knew, and dat's why he's dead."
"And he didn't listen either when I told him he was walking into a snake pit," there was a growl of anger in his words, not at his son, but at himself, "both of you, bull headed and stubborn."
"And who taught us dat, huh?" Gambit smirked before turning a cold tone. "Henri wanted me to protect de family, dat's what I'm doing."
"By inciting a war?" came the harsh reply.
"If I have to," the thief said coldly. "What do you know of da Presbytere?"
"Non," the man resolved to a steely expression but she could see the pain underneath.
There was only a slight gesture from the Patriarch and the other thieves started to move in. Rogue was quicker, kicking off to swoop at the nearest attackers, barreling into them and driving them down. A man swiped a baton at her and she jumped up, spinning in the air to drop behind him and clonk him on the head.
Rouge turned and saw Gambit still standing, staring down his father, in an emotional battle more intense than the one she was fighting. No time to worry about that, she could take these guys easy and perhaps that was what he was counting on.
She bounded across the field to the other line of men who had paused when they saw her initial aerobatics. They were ready for her and dodged like the professional thieves they were. Snatching a baton from one of them she easily snapped it and pummeled two of the men with the non-broken ends, knocking them out, not trying to cause any permanent damage to any of Gambit's 'family'.
Another lunged behind her and she slipped to the side, grabbing his arms and using her strength to toss him away. She hadn't really planned what direction but the man flew straight at the Patriarch who skillfully and suavely dodged the projectile by stepping to the side at last second.
"Enough," John-Luc shouted and the few thieves remaining upright stopped their approach.
"You're not sending me away dis time," Gambit told his father, heaps of emotion under the surface.
"I told Henri dis would take care of itself, but I was wrong… about so many things." The elder LeBeau stared at the younger and it became obvious to Rogue that the man loved his son, and his son loved him in return, but there was too much baggage between them to make this anything more than bittersweet. Eventually John-Luc was the one to give in, a tired look falling upon his face, "I do hope you know what you're doing, Remy."
"I was always da best at getting out of a pinch," the mutant gave a half laugh.
"Yes," his father said slowly, "when not getting you and Henri into dem," another slight gesture and the thieves picked up their fallen comrades and started to head back to the boats.
"Père," LeBeau's voice finally broke, only a touch, "all da same, good to see you again."
"As to see you, Remy," John-Luc answered with sad eyes before composing himself, "All I know of da Presbytere is dat tonight dere will be a rather large fundraiser, Guild's been paid not to put in an appearance," he said the last words with a smirk, appearance obviously being code for not robbing the place blind.
"Well," Gambit smirked back, "good thing I'm not guilded."
The last of the thieves were on the boats, a few already backing away from the dock, John-Luc nodded to his boy and turned to leave. The Patriarch paused as his eyes landed on Rogue, giving her a once over. "Always did favor a woman who could kick your ass, Remy."
Rogue rolled her eyes, nothing was going on between her and Gambit. Hell, other than some questionable comments made in a flirtatious manner he'd actually been the perfect gentleman.
Again… she really needed to stop thinking about these things, they didn't mean anything. Gambit was playing her, it was all part of whatever long-con he had going.
For a man of his age John-Luc easily hoped into the boat, the driver backing off and speeding away across the water. Gambit didn't move until they were all well out of sight and then it almost looked as if his shoulders had shrunk and his body wanted to collapse. Whatever happened, whatever kept being referred to, obviously left a horrible scar on all involved… and Rogue knew the answers she sought where in the memories she dared not touch, questions she couldn't bring herself to ask.
The two mutants walked towards the dock and met up, Rogue putting her hands on her hips, "Making me do all tha heavy lifting?"
He grinned at her, "Wouldn't want to insult you."
She was saved having to come up with a retort by Claude joining them on the dock, "Well, dat was interesting."
"Wasn't it just?" Gambit said with a smirk. "Like he wasn't even trying."
Glancing between the two men, "I missed something…"
"John-Luc wants da know who killed Henri as much as da rest of us," Claude explained, "probably moreso."
"But he needs a fallback position," Gambit added, not a bit of malice in his voice, "he can't support me in case I fail, still has da Guild to think about."
"Like father, like son," Rogue almost wanted to laugh, seemed Gambit's tendency to play big and far from safe was as much taught as it was genetic. "Okay, so we go ta this… Presbytere?"
"A museum in da French Quarter," Claude rubbed his chin, "and the fundraiser, probably da one to help fund our historical landmarks, dey have one every year during Mardi Gras, usually do it right and proper in da Spirit of da Carnival."
"Tante Mattie said 'tonight'," Rogue started to run scenarios through her head, "we could use tha crowds to our advantage, sneak in through tha roof."
Gambit made a somewhat agreeable noise, then he grinned, "I was thinking we use da front door."
"What," she tilted her head, "after tha party?"
That grin got wider, "During da party."
"During tha party?" If they crashed a party then they would have to look like they were supposed to be there… and if it's a Mardi Gras-style fancy fundraising party… "We go in as waiters then."
The thief made a tsk noise, "Where's your sense of style, cheri?"
If not the wait-staff…
Rogue's eyes narrowed at the Cajun, "Oh no, Gambit, yah not getting me into a dress."
"Well, I certainly can't wear it," he teased, grinning too broadly for her liking. "I don't have da legs for it but I'm thinking you certainly do."
Rogue was ready to punch the man when Claude interjected, "If da Guild has been asked to stay away den dat means something will be going down during da party, a hand-off, pay-off, all manner of things, best way to find out would to be at da center. If this was a job, I'd go in as a waiter."
"No self-respecting thief would go in as a guest," Gambit was a little too pleased with himself, "which is why that's exactly what we're going to do."
As much as she wanted to argue, doing the unexpected had worked for them so far.
"Relax, cheri," Gambit dropped some of the charm from his grin, "you don't have to come if you don't want to."
That stopped her for a second, "Really?" Rogue figured he'd try a bit harder to get her into something a bit more revealing than her usual combat-ready fare.
"Of course," and there it was, "I'd be much obliged if you came to watch my back," or not.
She crossed her arms, "Sure you won't be watching mine?" There was enough lit on the last word to get her point across that she was referring to more than her back.
"Only if da lady permits," his grin was back full force.
Rolling her eyes, the old adage came to mind, 'in for a penny, in for a pound', "Well, someone needs to protect tha innocent women there from tha likes of you."
"Bon," Gambit laughed, brining his hands together, "and here I thought I'd have to bribe you," he flicked his wrist and between two fingers was the worn King of Hearts she knew she still had on her person that morning.
"Sugah," she said with a completely straight face, "I do believe I'll be killing you before this is all over."
"Looking forward to it," Gambit chuckled, turning his back to her as he headed towards the boat, a deliberate show of how much he believed her.