Justice League of Amazons: Dragonborn
…
Chapter 6
An hour later, everyone left the training red in the face, sweaty and panting for breath. Each of the League faced Martin in the training simulation. The Dovahkiin was a formidable combatant, skilled in both melee and unarmed combat. Combine that with his physical prowess, and one could argue that the man was like a supersoldier, more machine than man.
The man himself was barely panting for breath, his silvery-blonde hair was matted with perspiration and stuck to the back of his neck becomingly, but he otherwise looked as hale and fresh as he went in.
"Hit the showers, everyone" Shayera ordered them as she tried to not limp as after Huntress had had her turn in sparring against Martin, she went up against him with a sparring mace and got knocked around for her troubles. "We stink!" she then said as she smelled her armpit, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the smell of her sweaty frame.
"You do," Martin remarked dryly as he carried his armour and sword under his arm.
"You jerk! You're supposed to tell us we smell wonderful!" Supergirl snapped out in mock anger.
"You don't," the Dovahkiin denied which made Kara look at him like he'd sprouted another head. "You need to wash up in order to smell better than you do now," he then said.
Shayera laid a hand on the man's shoulder and said to him, "She was joking."
"Oh."
Shayera had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes at Martin's cluelessness and she said to him, "I'll take you to the men's showers, give you some privacy at least." The Thanagarian then led the Dragonborn down the hall leaving the others behind.
"Shouldn't we go with them?" Supergirl asked.
"Nah, let the big guy have his space," Black Canary said to her. "He's not gonna be getting much of it in future," she added wryly.
"Yeah," Huntress hummed in agreement. "Still, I'm pretty tempted to join him," she said with a purr.
"Yeah, we know," Power Girl stated. "If the way you kept launching yourself at Martin in the training simulation is any indicator, I'm surprised you didn't tear your clothes off beforehand," she jibed.
"And you wouldn't?" Helena shot back with a teasing grin getting an embarrassed look from Karen. "I mean, what's not to like?" the Italian-American brunette said to everyone. "Guy looks like he's a Greek demigod with that body of his!" she gushed.
"He does," Dinah mused thoughtfully, a slight blush heating her cheeks. "I've seen my share of guys with great bodies and Martin certainly has that appeal about him," she said with a small smile.
"So, Martin being a Grade A Beefcake aside, what are we gonna tell him when we, y'know," Karen led.
"When we what?" Kara asked.
"When we tell Martin about the birds and the bees and how he's essentially the new father to mankind," Karen said as patiently as she could.
"Oh!" Supergirl tried her best to not blush and ducked her head sheepishly.
"Do you think Martin doesn't know about that?" Black Canary asked Power Girl.
"I'm not saying he doesn't, but it wouldn't hurt to ask him," the blonde Kryptonian replied.
"We'll let Hawkgirl handle that," Huntress stated. "Right now, I wanna have a hot shower, have some dinner, and go to bed. Today's had me beat," she said tiredly. This sentiment was followed by a small chorus of agreement as everyone then headed for the showers to wash up after a sweaty training session.
…
"Here you are, Martin," Shayera said to the Dovahkiin as she led him to the showers. "If you need any help, then don't hesitate to ask," she informed him.
Martin gave a wordless before he entered the washroom. As stupid as she felt about it, Shayera took a quick peek and got a glance at Martin stripping off his underwear, leaving him naked. Biting her lip at the naked backside of Martin Stormcrown, Shayera fought to pull herself away from the sight, steam coming off her head.
"Okay, calm down, girl. Plenty of time for that later!" Shayera whispered to herself as she hurriedly walked down the hallway to the women's showers to wash up herself.
The redheaded Thanagarian joined the others and entered a shower stall where she stripped off her workout clothes and steam began to fill the stall as she flicked the knobs and hot water sprayed out of the showerhead. As she lathered herself in a bodywash soap, Shayera's thoughts strayed to the image of a naked Dovahkiin; biting her lip to suppress a little moan of longing, almost startling herself as she ran a sponge across her suddenly sensitive skin. This time, Shayera gave an audible breathy moan.
"You okay in there, Shayera?" Black Canary's voice floated from the next stall over.
"Yeah! Fine!" Shayera hollered back and winced at how her voice cracked as she spoke the words. Hoping that Black Canary and for that matter no-one else heard the crack in her voice, Hawkgirl focussed her efforts on cleaning herself and not on the image of a bare-naked Martin Stormcrown. Easier said than done as the image burned itself in her mind.
Half an hour later, everyone washed up and dressed themselves in simpler civilian clothing and headed for the commissary where they found Martin sitting at a table, seemingly waiting for them.
"Oh! Martin!" Diana exclaimed. "You were waiting for us?" she asked.
Martin gave a wordless nod. "Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?" Zatanna asked him.
The Dovahkiin gave a silent shake of his head. "Well, let's see what we can do to fix that," Zatanna said chipperly as she sauntered over to the kitchen. Her face fell as she saw that the kitchen was rather limited; there were some stainless fridges, a simple stovetop, a microwave and that was pretty much it.
"Is this all there is?" the magician asked Shayera and Diana.
"The kitchen's fully stocked," Shayera replied with a shrug of her shoulders.
"And who was in charge of stocking the kitchen?" Zatanna asked pointedly.
"…Batman," Diana admitted with a blush on her face.
Zatanna had to suppress an urge to snort in disgust and prepared to look inside the fridge. Admittedly to her surprise, Zatanna found the fridges were well-stocked, but much of the foodstuffs were a little on the plain side. Sighing to herself and shaking her head at her deceased childhood friend's lacking sense of cuisine. She would've thought having Alfred Pennyworth who was a Cordon Bleu rated chef cooking his meals that Bruce would have some tastebuds.
"Okay, there isn't much, but I can work with this," the magician said to herself as she pulled out some foodstuffs and laid them out on the bench. Feeling a presence behind her, Zatanna turned around to see Martin standing in the kitchen.
"Do you require assistance?" he asked.
"You don't have to," Zatanna said to him.
"I insist," Martin replied as he moved to grab some of the kitchen knives and began to cut, chop and slice vegetables in varying shapes.
Sensing that the man wasn't going to take no for answer, Zatanna smiled as she took out some beef steaks and began to season them with some salt & pepper. Using a simple spell, the meat was then fully seasoned, Zatanna then moved to turn the stovetop on and pulled a large frying pan and poured a little cooking oil into the hard non-stick surface.
As Zatanna and Martin worked together in the kitchen, delicious smells wafted out into the commissary. Everyone else smelled the scent of frying steaks and steaming vegeatables.
"Mmm! Something smells good!" Kara stated as she closed her eyes and relished the smell. "What are they cooking in there?" she asked as she glanced at the kitchen door.
"Steak, I think?" Mari remarked. "Didn't think Martin was a vegetarian," she said jestingly.
"Well, whatever they're cooking, I hope it tastes as good as it smells," Stargirl said as she licked her lips at the thought of fresh cooked steak.
And within a quarter of an hour, Martin and Zatanna came out of the kitchen bearing a tray of cooked steaks that were still sizzling and oozing juices along with steamed and buttered vegetables.
"Here we are, everyone, hope you like steak rare, because that's what we've cooked for everyone," Zatanna informed everyone as she and Martin placed the trays on the table in the middle of the room. "Dig in, everyone! It'll go to waste otherwise!" she urged them.
Everyone then took a steak and some vegetables each and began to eat. There was almost a collective moan from nearly everyone in the room at the first bite of the steaks.
"This is so good!" Dr Light proclaimed. "Who cooked?" she asked as she ate another bite of her steak.
"Zatanna," Martin informed the Japanese holokinetic heroine as he took a bite of meat.
"You helped!" Zatanna said to the man who simply shrugged in response. Shaking her head, Zatanna then added, "Martin was a big help. Wouldn't have been able to do it myself otherwise."
"Well, after today I think this is what we all needed," Shayera replied. "It's really good steak. What did you put on it?" she asked Zatanna.
"Salt, pepper and some cooking oil," Zatanna told her. "The real trick is getting the heat just right; you want it the right temperature so that you can cook both sides evenly and only turn it once," she explained.
"Well, whatever trick you used, it works," Shayera complimented the magician who preened proudly at the compliment.
"What do you think, Martin?" Zatanna looked at the Dovahkiin.
"It's fine," came the blunt response. Zatanna's face fell a little at this.
"Oh…" Zatanna tried to not be hurt by those seemingly dismissive words from the Dovahkiin, but her crestfallen face betrayed her feelings.
Shayera pointed nudged Martin who looked up at the redhead who indicated Zatanna with a nod of her head. Martin looked at Zatanna who was now chewing some carrots glumly. Martin then reached out with a hand and brushed a lock of hair from Zatanna's head and pushed it back over her ear. Zatanna looked up at Martin in surprise as he then said to her gently, "You cooked wonderfully." Zatanna's tears glistened as she smiled softly at the man who removed his hand and resumed eating.
Once all the food had been eaten, the Dragonborn moved to collect the dirty dishes. "You don't have to!" Huntress protested. "The rest of us can wash up," she offered.
Martin shrugged and took all the greasy dinnerware and headed for the wash area and began to wash the plates and cutlery.
"Should one of us help him?" Kara asked.
"Yes, one of us should," Karen said with a smug as she looked at her younger counterpart. Realising what was happening, Supergirl looked around at everyone imploringly and sighed when no-one else offered. Muttering to herself about how unhelpful some people could be, Kara then headed into the dishwashing room and found Martin already scrubbing the dishes in hot sudsy water.
"Need any help?" the young Kryptonian offered tentatively to the Dragonborn who glanced over his shoulder before resuming his job. Taking the lack of response as a free opportunity to help, Kara grabbed a clean and dry dishrag and began to dry the washed plates and stored them away.
Two hours later, Kara and Martin left the dishwashing room and found almost everyone had retired for the night. Shayera and Diana were still up waiting for them.
"Oh, has everyone else gone to bed?" Supergirl asked.
"Most of us. Plus we need to show Martin where he'll be staying," Diana replied. "There's also a few things we need to discuss with you," she said looking at Martin.
"What did you wish to discuss?" Martin said in response.
"Kara, why don't you head to bed? You've had a long day," Shayera reminded Kara who nodded reluctantly, she lingered a little watching Martin sit at a nearby table before she headed off to the dorms.
"Okay, so this is gonna be a little awkward; for us and you, I imagine," Shayera said slowly as she took a seat with Wonder Woman opposite the Dragonborn who looked at them calmly with his purple-blue eyes.
"What is the nature of the conversation?" Martin asked professionally.
Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman looked at each, both feeling awkward and uncomfortable with the discussion they were about to discuss, the latter of them even more so since this was something she never imagined discussing with a man.
"What do you know about the birds and the bees?" Shayera then asked Martin, deciding to jump right into the topic, cutting through the bullshit and getting down to brass tacks.
"What do birds and insects have to do with this?" Martin said innocently.
Shayera almost winced; she should've guessed that coming from a medieval landscape, modern slang would be lost on Martin, so she decided to try a different more direct approach.
"What do you know procreation? Men, women and sex?" came Shayera's query.
"Enough," came the blunt response from the Dovahkiin.
"Okay, but has anyone fully explained the details to you?" Shayera enquired.
"No, but I never really thought to ask," Martin admitted blandly. "Why is this pertinent?" he asked.
Shayera looked at Diana who decided to answer Martin's inquiry. "It's because that as it stands right now, you are potentially the last male person on earth who happens to be almost completely immune to Aresia's virus," she said to him slowly. "With that in mind, any child you have will potentially have a higher immune defence to the virus," she added.
"Oh."
"That's it?" Shayera said. "Just 'oh'?" she asked.
"What did you expect my reaction to be?" Martin asked.
"Well, one of two things; either ecstatic elation at the thought of having sex with numerous women wanting your babies, or utter revulsion," Shayera admitted. "Have you ever had sex before?" she asked the Slayer of Alduin.
"No. Never had much interest in the subject," Martin replied after a moment of thought.
"So, you've never…?" Diana tried to say.
"No."
"Not once? Not in any way?"
Martin shook his head in response and replied, "I was too busy to find a lover or a wife."
Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman looked at each other in surprise; this wasn't something they were expecting. "Well, if you have any questions, we're here to help in any way we can," the Amazon told the Dovahkiin.
"I have one or two pertinent enquiries," Martin replied. "Would I be expected to lay with every woman wanting to have my child?" he asked.
"Well, no that would be next to impossible," Shayera said making a face at this question. "Even you have your limits," she added.
"So, how is it that women will have my child if they do not lie with me?" came the next question from Martin.
"Well, by… collecting your seed, we can distribute it to special facilities that can artificially impregnate women wanting your child," Shayera informed the man.
"How does that work?" Martin questioned.
"How does what work?" Shayera said stupidly.
"How do they collect my seed? And how do they artificially impregnate women with my seed?" Martin clarified.
Shayera hung her head and pondered what to tell the man who seemed a little clueless on the subject. "Well, by collecting your seed, you… masturbate to fill a vessel such as a cup that is then given to doctors who take tiny portions of it to put in special devices that are then used to inseminate women wanting your child," she explained in a way that could be understand.
"I see," came Martin's response.
"Have you ever… touched yourself before?" Diana asked him.
"No," Martin said simply in answer to the Amazon's question.
"Well, you're going to have to learn how to do it," Shayera informed feeling very embarrassed at the thought of telling a man to masturbate; this was something she had never imagined she would be saying to a man.
"I see," Martin replied. He then stood from his seat and said, "This has been an enlightening discussion. Thank you."
"If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask any of us. We're here to help," Diana offered to the Dragonborn who nodded.
"C'mon, I'll show where you'll be sleeping," Shayera then told Martin as she stood from her chair and led him down to the dorms.
Opening the doors, Shayera showed Martin his room. "Here you are. It's a little spartan, but you can decorate to your personal tastes, within reason of course," she said to him.
"I usually left decoration decisions to others," Martin admitted.
"Yeah, you don't look the type to be an interior decorator," Shayera said with an amused smile. "What would your home usually be decorated with?" she asked jokingly.
"Weapon plaques to hang up weapons and shields I've made or collected. Mannequins and armour stands, that sort of thing," Martin replied seriously.
"Huh, guess that would've been the answer," Shayera mused. "Well, if you want some plaques and armours stands, then I'm sure we can accommodate you there," she offered.
"Thank you," Martin said with a nod of his head.
"Well, good night. Try and get some sleep," Shayera advised the Dragonborn. "We won't be getting much of it in the near future," she said grimly.
"I will try to," Martin replied as Shayera left the room. Looking at the bed, the Dovahkiin began to strip off his armour until he was only in his drawers and climbed into the bed which was surprising comfortable. Looking up at the ceiling, the hero of Skyrim contemplated his situation.
"Hmm… wonder what everyone back home would say about this?" he murmured to himself. Giving a tiny snort, the Slayer of Alduin then rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.
"Deal with it as it comes," were his last words of the night as sleep claimed him.
…
Pont Vanis. Kovir.
Drizzling rain pattered gently down on the many rooves of Kovir as the citizens made their way through the winding streets of Pont Vanis. One individual in particular walked slowly through the water sodden streets, carefully and calmly avoiding the local denizens. She was a reasonably tall young woman with a slender hourglass figure and deep fiery red hair in twin low buns were hidden beneath the large hood she wore to keep the rain off her head. A pair of bright emerald green eyes were looking ahead, focused on her destination.
This young woman was named Triss Merigold of Maribor, a powerful sorceress who formerly belonged to the Lodge of Sorceresses, a political and magical cabal of the world's most powerful mages who had been involved in more than their share of cutthroat political backstabbing and the like. So much so, that it had led to the mass killings and witch hunts in the Northern Kingdoms by Radovid the Stern, King of Redania.
But much of that was in the past now due to individuals who had brought about an end to the insane Radovid, not to mention the business with the Wild Hunt.
Initially, Triss had set up shop in Novigrad but was quickly forced into hiding due to the Church of the Eternal Fire declaring all mages to be witches and traitors and with eager assistance from Radovid, they had started exterminating anyone who so much as had a whiff of magic or even the slightest modicum of learning about them. Triss found herself the head of an underground movement looking to free all the mages of Novigrad and with some help from Novigrad's underworld bosses and the assistance of the Witcher Geralt of Rivia, Triss had spirited away the mages of Novigrad to Kovir where they were given sanctuary by King Tancred.
Geralt…
Geralt was a… complicated subject for Triss to put it lightly. For years she had been in love with the Witcher, unhappily so. When Geralt had been found outside Kaer Morhen with no memory of his past, Triss had, ashamedly, taken advantage of the man's amnesia, and also partly due to the belief that Geralt's other half, Yennefer of Vengerberg, was presumed dead, to pursue a relationship with him.
But as time went on, Geralt's memory came back to him and Yennefer was revealed to be alive and subsequently, the pair had gotten back together and were now more in love than ever. Of course, Geralt had forgiven Triss for deceiving him and taking advantage of his amnesiac state as he too had believed Yennefer to be dead.
But still, it was a bitter sting to Triss's heart that Geralt and Yennefer had now gotten their happily ever after. Last Triss had heard, Geralt had been given a vineyard of all things as part of a hefty reward for a monster contract in Toussaint.
But in all respects, Triss didn't have too bad either herself; she no longer had to hide her magical abilities, was in service to a sympathetic king who had given the mages shelter and the whole mess with the war with Nilfgaard and the Wild Hunt was now over.
Still, Triss did often think about her life with Geralt before. To tell the complete truth, she was lonely. The house she had received in Pont Vanis was a tad empty of human company, despite some of the servants who tended the estate and as bad as she felt, Triss felt herself pining for company.
Sighing to herself, Triss made her way through the streets as she neared a brightly lit tavern. She had decided to get out of the house and spend an evening at a tavern, hoping the mood and nearby presence of people would cheer her up. At the very least, she could get blind drunk and stumble back home with someone.
Entering the tavern, Triss felt the warm air brush over her as she lowered her hood and took in the sights of the tavern patrons, eating, drinking, singing or other such activities one would partake in a tavern. A troupe of troubadours were in stage playing a lively and merry tune and some space in the middle of the floor was cleared away for patrons to dance.
Sitting herself in a small but cosy booth, Triss gave her order to a serving girl who came back moments later with a bottle of fine Est-Est and a glass. Murmuring her thanks, Triss poured herself a glass and sipped slowly; giving a small hum of appreciation of the fine wine, Triss settled back in her seat to observe the crowd. She spotted some young couples dancing together or enjoying private intimate moments with each other; her heart panged at the sight.
Sighing heavily, Triss took another sip of her drink, hoping the alcohol would kick in and she could forget about her own heartache for a while.
"Excuse me, lassie, but is this seat taken?" a voice suddenly asked, and Triss looked up to see a rather peculiar man standing before her. He was clad in the most garish ensemble of orange and purple clothes, but they looked to be finely tailored and fit the man like a well-made glove. He had windswept silver-grey hair and his eyes where a pale silvery colour that almost made Triss think he was blind. An almost manic looking smile was on the odd man's lips as he looked at her expectantly.
"Um, no, not at all, feel free," Triss said to the odd man who gave a wide grin and sat opposite her.
"Ah, thank ye, very much, lass. I've travelled quite a long way here," he said as he leaned back in his seat and pulled out from his jacket a large wedge of orange cheese and bit into it. "Would you like some?" he offered the wedge to Triss who shook her head in response. "Hmm, more for me than," he stated as he took even larger bite of his cheese.
"Who are you, sir? What made you want to sit here?" Triss then asked, curious as to why this odd fellow wanted to sit her booth when there were others that were available.
"Well, I saw ye sitting there alone, looking like the loneliest bairn in the world and I thought I'd come sit a spell with ye," the man replied with a grin. "As for who I am, I am called Sheogorath Cheeseman, Lord of the Never-There," he then said with a bow of his head.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Cheeseman," Triss said, feeling a little baffled at this odd man's name. Was this man a sorcerer? If he was, she'd never heard of him before. And as for his title, Lord of the Never-There, it sounded quite made-up, yet there was a little feeling that told Triss that it sounded like a real place. "I am…" she then tried to introduce herself to Sheogorath who cut her off with.
"I know who you are, lass. Triss Merigold of Maribor, the Fourteenth of the Hill and former member of the Lodge of Sorceresses," he said with a knowing grin.
"My reputation precedes me it seems," Triss said dryly. "But I must say that I've never heard of you before, nor have I heard of any place called Never-There," she added.
"Oh, but everyone does know me, lass," Sheogorath said with a mysterious grin. "I lurk in the back of everyone's mind, beneath the surface of every rational thought I wait, and I can bring to one brilliance or their wit's end," he added.
Triss raised an eyebrow at this; this conversation had taken a very strange turn indeed. This Sheogorath seemed to be brimming with madness and she had half a mind to cast a spell to calm the man down and bring him to a doctor.
"I wouldn't bother trying to cast one of your spells on me, lassie. Ye'd only annoy me, and you really don't want to annoy me," Sheogorath said with a grin and another bite of his cheese.
"Telepathy?" Triss asked in a guarded voice as she mentally threw up some defences around her mind.
"Oh, ye could say that, little lass," Sheogorath said with a secretive little grin. "The mind is a specialty of mine," he added.
"What is it you want from me?" Triss asked, staring at the odd man with a flat look on her face. "You obviously have a reason to be sitting here when there are other booths available. So, what is it that you want from me?"
"Truth be told, I'd like to play a game with ye," Sheogorath said.
"Gwent?" Triss deadpanned, wondering if the man before her was just plain insane.
"Oh, nothing so trite as that, bonny lass," Sheogorath said a cackle. "But if ye play this game of mine, ye could learn more about yerself and, dare I say it, perhaps even find love," he offered.
"And if I'm not interested?" Triss asked lightly, playing devil's advocate.
"Well, ye cannae do much worse than ye are right now, can ye?" Sheogorath said to her. "It's all in good fun and you might find yerself enjoying it," he added.
Triss thought about it for a moment before shrugging and said, "Well, what harm could it do?"
"Knew I liked ye for a reason, bonny lass," Sheogorath smiled as he waved his hand at Triss before she could even say anything, and she felt herself be pulled from the world and fell backwards into a void.
…
The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester County, New York.
"Do you, Scott Summers, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Kurt Wagner AKA Nightcrawler asked the groom, Scott Summers AKA Cyclops.
Scott smiled widely and said, "I do." A simple but powerful statement for everyone present to hear.
Kurt nodded in satisfaction before turning his head to the bride and asked her, "And do you, Jean Grey, take this man to be lawfully wedded husband?"
Jean Grey beamed and replied, "I do."
In the relatively small crowd of X-Men members, students and family and friends, a beautiful woman with ash blonde hair and wearing a well-made pure silvery grey dress-suit sat in the crowd, seemingly apart from everyone else and watched the nuptials of Scott Summers and Jean Grey with a sad look of longing in her icy almost electric blue eyes.
Emma Frost, formerly the White Queen of the Inner Circle, watched with a pit forming in her stomach as she watched as Scott kiss his bride and claim her in marriage. Almost everyone stood up and clapped and cheered as rice was rained down on the bride and groom as they made their way down the aisle. Emma stood up and clapped politely, though her expression was one of indifference.
But underneath, Emma was sad and feeling more alone than ever. It had only been a few months since she had been put back together, quite literally, after sacrificing herself to destroy the Phoenix Force that had been unleashed from Jean Grey, all because of what she, Emma, and the Inner Circle had done.
To explain more succinctly, more than a year ago, the X-Men had been disbanded after an explosion destroyed the Xavier Institute and it was only when the MRD had ramped up their persecution of mutants that Logan AKA Wolverine had brought the X-Men back together in response. Not long after, Emma had shown up on Logan's doorstep, trading her telepathy for a spot on the team, using Cerebro to find missing mutants.
It had all been a kaleidoscope of activity, but it all culminated when Emma, acting on the orders of Sebastian Shaw and the Inner Circle finally moved to take Jean Grey with the intention of destroying the Phoenix that lay within the redheaded telekinetic. At least that's what Emma had been told at the time, and it was to her shock that Shaw revealed the real plan was to use the Phoenix to assert their dominion of the world.
Naturally, Emma couldn't let that stand, because despite all things, she had come to call the X-Men her friends and she had seen the destructive power the Phoenix held and its wild nature meant it could not be controlled, certainly not by the Inner Circle.
Emma had then sacrificed herself to destroy the Phoenix, but it was only recently that had been put back together by Jean herself, despite having manipulated everything from the start.
Whether that was because Jean had forgiven her, or for some other reason, Emma did not know and did not wish to ask for fear of the answer. But the blonde had then learnt that Scott had proposed to Jean who accepted it joyously. Jean had graciously offered Emma to be a bridesmaid, but she turned it down as she did not want to ruin Jean's wedding.
Emma was not alone in this regard as she spied that Logan himself was not too pleased with Scott and Jean's wedding. It was no big secret that Logan had feelings for the redheaded telekinetic and it had been a source of contention between him and Scott, but Logan had been the bigger man and did not wish to engage in a fight Scott over Jean, despite the other man wanting to.
As everyone prepared to head for the reception dinner, Emma was roused from her thoughts when a meaty hand lightly touched her shoulder causing her to see Logan looking at her with what she thought might be sympathy in his dark eyes.
"You alright, Frost?" he asked.
Emma gave a small smile in response. "I'm fine, Logan, thank you for asking." Her tone was light and civil, but a slight frown came over Logan's countenance as he heard the turmoil in the blonde's voice.
"No, you're not," he remarked. He then sighed and said, "If you wanna get out of here and not be at the reception…?" he made to offer.
"No, really I'm fine," Emma said with a smile that was slightly forced. "I won't do anything to ruin Scott and Jean's special day. I'll have some food and wine before heading to bed."
Logan nodded his head a little before saying, "The offer stands." He then followed after everyone else, leaving Emma behind.
Emma sighed as her heart grew heavy in her chest. She felt like a lovesick teenager, pining after a man who was now married to another woman. She felt like grabbing the nearest bottle of champagne and crawling into it and never come back out ever again.
Despite what she had said to Logan about attending if only briefly, Emma was considering just heading back to the Mansion and crawling into bed and hopefully never wake up when a voice interrupted her.
"G'evening, lassie."
Emma whirled around to see an oddly dressed man leaning up against one of the columns of the venue. A small manic grin was on his gaunt bearded face as he gazed at her with seemingly blind eyes. He wore an ensemble of purple and orange that looked finely tailored and fit his thin frame like a glove.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?" were the first questions Emma asked, wondering if this was a gatecrasher.
"Apologies, lass. The name's Sheogorath, Lord of the Never-There. And as for how I got here, I let myself. Security really needs work 'round here, ye ken?" the stranger grinned toothily.
"Indeed," Emma deadpanned dryly, wondering if the security for the wedding really was lax, or if this odd man was just that good at infiltrating places he shouldn't be in. She was tempted to read the mind of the man before, but as if sensing this, the man stopped her with a raised hand.
"I would nay read me mind if I were you," he told her. "You'd only give yerself a headache, and that's if you're lucky," he warned.
"Why? Something you wish to hide?" Emma snarked.
Sheogorath grinned widely and replied, "Oh, believe you me, lassie, those who've tried to read the book that lies in my noggin have only doomed themselves to madness." The tone in which he spoke did resonate with Emma as if he was trying to spare her any misfortune or trying to goad her into reading his mind.
Deciding to play it safe, Emma folded her arms over her chest and asked, "So, what is it that brings to a private affair, Mr Sheogorath?" She let the name roll off her tongue, finding the name odd.
"Well, I was in the neighbourhood and I spotted ye standing here like the loneliest bairn in the land," Sheogorath said with a harmless air about him. "Seems the wedding was not to yer likin', I take it?" he enquired.
Emma turned her nose up at this, not wanting to dignify the question with a response, but Sheogorath gave a good natured chuckle and said, "Seems like I'm right on this, but nary a point to dredge it up."
"Then why ask at all?" Emma snapped out frostily.
"Well, in truth, I was actually looking for ye," Sheogorath said honestly.
"For me?" Emma raised an immaculately groomed eyebrow at this admission. "What is it you possibly want from me?" she asked.
"I'd like to play a game with ye, I have a couple of other players already, but I thought I'd make the offer for you to join in," Sheogorath said.
"And this game you call it, what might it be, I wonder; checkers? Cards?" Emma said almost mockingly.
"I'll take that as a yes," Sheogorath said with a grin as he waved his hand at Emma causing her to gasp out in surprise as purple flames enveloped her and swallowed her up before she could utter a cry for help.
…
Manhattan Island, New York City.
It was nighttime over the City That Never Sleeps as a figure ran and leapt over rooftops. The figure was a woman with striking platinum blonde hair and a curvy athletic figure clad in skintight black leather spandex with white fur cuffs. A simple black domino mask framed a pair of deep green eyes and lips painted black curled into a lazy smirk as the owner ran her towards the edge of a rooftop, her sights set on the building across from it. But the distance was too great for any normal human being to leap towards.
Hardly mindful of the distance, the white haired woman smoothly pounced into the chasm that separated the two buildings. Just as inertia threatened to suck down towards the streets below, she thrust out an arm and from the white fur cuffs a thin cable with a claw attachment shot out with a sharp metallic puff. The clawed hooks flew through the air like an arrow and lodged themselves into lip of the opposite building's edge. The line went taut and the platinum beauty swung smoothly across the void with an airy laugh before alighting daintily onto another rooftop.
This woman who seemingly risked her life was Felicia Hardy otherwise known as the Black Cat. Black Cat was a thief of supreme skill and wanted the world over by authorities for her many daring heists that involved her breaking into highly secure places and making off with tens, thousands, even millions of dollars' worth of money, gems, artwork and many other things of great value.
Tonight was no different for Felicia as she was on yet another heist. The job this time was breaking into some rich art collector's penthouse and making off with an ancient scroll that would be worth millions. The scroll itself looked pretty ancient, said to be something from a time where men had only just learnt to build the pyramids. Not that it mattered too much to Felicia; she only ever learnt the history of things to ascertain their value, not for educational reasons or entertainment.
And thankfully this time, Felicia's kinda-ex-boyfriend Spider-Man was on a mission with the Avengers, or was it the Fantastic Four, to stop yet another world ending crisis. Don't get wrong, Felicia admired what her on-off again lover did to save the world, but her being what she was didn't sit right with him and admittedly Felicia had messed up her chances of ever being with Spider-Man in a more permanent relationship, mostly because she couldn't quite understand his need for a normal civilian life.
But that was then, this was now and Felicia lived for the now. Seeing the penthouse block, Felicia had to stifle a grin as she came up to the edge of the roof she was standing on. Kneeling down on one knee, she put a tiny button on her mask. Her eyes suddenly changed to a shade of electric blue as she scanned the penthouse building for security devices. A quick cursory scan showed the basic motion sensor alarms and security cameras, nothing she couldn't handle.
Standing to her feet with a smile, Felicia tapped her mask again and her eyes shifted back to their natural green colour. Taking a few steps back onto the roof, Felicia bounced on the balls of her feet a couple of times to pep herself up for what she was about to do next. Taking a few deep breaths, the master thief sprinted across the roof and leapt high into the air off the edge. Adrenaline surged into Black Cat's veins giving a euphoric feeling of elation as she semi-soared through the air before firing her grapnel line into the penthouse building's walls. The hooks sunk deep into the concrete walls and the pulled itself taut and Felicia swung smoothly down and landed neatly on the nearest window ledge. Grinning and panting to herself from the adrenaline, Felicia took a calming breath so that she didn't let the elation cloud her mind.
Taking out from one of the pouches lining her hips, she pulled out a small aerosol can, opening the window just a tad and pressed her finger to the release. A hiss of compressed air followed by a fine mist revealed some basic laser tripwires in the room. Smirking to herself, Black Cat slowly lifted the window fully open and took a dainty step onto the knotty hardwood floor before going into a low crouch and proceeded to bob and weave her way through the lasers, avoiding each one like a graceful dancer. Once she passed through the first security measure, Black Cat proceeded to the next room where the display room. It was dimly lit, but in a pillar of light stood a glass display case which held the scroll that was the prize of tonight's heist.
Pausing for a moment, Felicia looked around and spray some more of the aerosol and saw that there were no lasers. But this alone made Black Cat pause for concern; was this art collector so arrogant in thinking that no-one would dare try and steal his precious scroll and not set up even the most basic security around it? Frowning a little, Felicia pulled out a small metal marble from her another pocket and rolled it along the floor to test for any hidden security triggers. The metal ball rolled along the floor before coming to a gradual stop, sitting almost innocently on the spot. Still not convinced that this wasn't a set-up, Felicia scanned the room for anything that was hidden from the naked eye. To her surprise and continued suspicion, there were no hidden turrets or traps or security cameras anywhere.
"Huh, guess it's an easy score tonight," Felicia muttered to herself as she quietly tiptoed over to the display case and lifted off the lid and prepared to take the scroll within.
Then the lights blinked on. "Damn!" Felicia cursed to herself. There had to be something that set the lights off. Oh, well, guess it was one of those nights, Felicia thought to herself.
"Well, well? Look what the putty tat dragged in," a jovial Irish-Scottish accented voice gloated and Black Cat turned around to see a curious looking man leaning against the wall. Had he been there this whole time? Felicia then took a more discerning look at the man; he was dressed in a burgundy purple business suit with a white silk cravat around his neck. His hair was neatly slicked back and coloured a silver grey colour giving him a more aged appearance, but his face offset that with how youthful it looked. A pair of near whited eyes looked at Felicia with amusement as a manic grin was on his bearded lips. "Caught with your hand in the cookie jar, lass," he quipped with a cackle.
"Okay, you caught me," Felicia conceded, but mentally she was preparing to claw this guy's eyes out and make her escape with the loot. "Something about this job seemed a little too easy," she then remarked.
"Indeed, it did, lassie, but it was enough to get your attention," the strange man replied. "I intentionally put the word about that scroll to lure you here," he said. "And here you are," he added jovially.
"So, you wanted me to be here," Felicia said, more to herself than the stranger. "Was this some kind of test? Or a prank?" she asked in annoyed tone.
"A little from column A, a little from column B," the strange man said with a grin. "Truth be told, lass, I want to play a game with ye," he then added.
"A game?" Felicia parroted.
"That's right," the stranger confirmed. "Allow me to introduce meself; Sheogorath, Lord of the Never-There," he introduced with a flourishing bow.
"O-kay…" Felicia was feeling very weirded out by this bizarre man. She'd never heard of anyone called Sheogorath, but she half guessed this guy might be some loony magic type. Felicia wasn't fond of magic or those who used magic, but she figured she might as well hear this guy out and get a feel of what he wanted from her. "So, you want to play a game with me," she then said slowly. "What game are you talking about? Checkers? Monopoly? Poker?" she asked sarcastically.
Sheogorath simply grinned before raising his hand and Felicia then felt herself be enveloped in purple flames and she fell backwards into a void, disappearing from the room entirely.
Sheogorath grinned to himself and said, "Let the games begin."
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: There! Sixth chapter of this is done and dusted! I hope you all enjoyed it. Now some unfortunate news, at around quarter past five o'clock Eastern Australian time, I received the news that my uncle has passed away in his own home while in palliative care. Now I'm not fishing for pity or sympathy, I'm not so cheap to do that, but I'm kinda at loss what's happened; some of you I have told my that uncle's cancer has come back and there was nothing more the doctors could do for him, but I was honestly hoping he'd make some miraculous recovery and be back to normal. But it appears life had other things planned. This news has been hard on everyone who knew my uncle, particularly his wife, my aunt as they had been married for decades at this point.
I could go on a tangent about what my uncle used to do for me and siblings and what we used to do with him when we went to visit him in Tasmania, but I won't do that.
So, for those of you who wish to, take care of the ones who love you, you don't when the next moment may be their last.
Be kind to one another,
Angry lil' elf.