Remy had ended up sleeping in one of the guestrooms across the hall from her. Rogue would never admit that it took way too long for her to fall asleep, knowing he was staying the night. Somehow it felt more important than her staying at the Guild Hall the night before.
The next morning came much too early as far as Rogue was concerned. The delicate lace curtains did little and less to block the bright sunlight that poured into the bedroom. As Rogue sat up in bed, her eyes stung from the light and lack of sleep. Scrubbing both palms over her face, Rogue tried to will herself to face the day…and Remy. For all of his thieving skills, she had heard him descend the stairs about twenty minutes ago as she had been lying there trying to summon the energy to get up.
Eventually, good manners and guilt forced her out of bed. She should try to find something for her houseguest to eat this morning, and she needed to find some coffee.
As it turned out, Rogue's concerns for her houseguest were unwarranted. Remy was already cooking by the time she made it down the stairs to the kitchen. Remy must have found a pantry because he had pancakes cooking on the stove.
"Morning Cher," he greeted, using a spatula to check under the edge of one of the pancakes before flipping it expertly.
"Mornin' Cajun." Rogue's own greeting was distorted by a yawn that contorted her face.
"I found some coffee. Dere's a full pot by the toaster."
"Bless ya Sugah," making a beeline for the coffee pot, Rogue pulled open one of the cabin doors and fished out a coffee mug. She didn't have cream but managed to find a container of sugar. Plopping herself down at the kitchen table, she sipped her coffee gratefully.
Remy finished the pancakes and turned off the stove. Fishing an unopened bottle of maple syrup from somewhere, he set everything on the table.
The two ate in companionable silence.
Rogue tried not to think about how domestic this all felt. After all, Scott was an early riser, and there were plenty of times that they had eaten breakfast together before danger room sessions.
But Scott wasn't staying in your house and making you breakfast in the morning, she thought. Glancing over at the man in front of her, she was struck by how unfair it was that he looked so good first thing in the morning. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before, sans socks and shoes. Surprisingly his clothes didn't look overly rumpled for being slept in.
Wait, what had he slept in?
Rogue thoughts raced. Surely, he must have worn something. Rogue closed her eyes as torrid images played behind her eyelids, heat building in her face. It had been hot last night, and he tended to run warm anyway. Oh Lord, he probably only slept with the sheet on, if that. Images of a nude Remy LeBeau sleeping in the next room came to mind. Sheet draped low over his hips. So low that she could picture a coppery trail of hair leading down to… Rogue sucked in a breath at the thought. And promptly choked on her coffee.
Sputtering, Rogue pounded on her chest, trying to clear her airways. Tears burned her eyes. Getting control of her breathing again, Rogue opened her eyes to see Remy watching her with concern.
"You okay dere Cher?" he raised an eyebrow in askance.
"Fine. Sorry. It went down the wrong way," Rogue croaked. Her chest felt like it was on fire.
"Well, that was convincing," Remy's other eyebrow rose to meet his first. Pausing, he tilted his head, looking at her as if trying to puzzle something out. Suddenly his face cleared, and he grinned, "You thinking about dis ol' Cajun?"
"In your dreams Swamp Rat," Rogue scoffed, well aware that her face still felt painfully warm.
"Oui, but a gentleman doesn't talk about that. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." Remy's grin turned salacious as he leaned forward. Leisurely pursuing her with his eyes.
"I will stab you with this fork," Rogue growled, waving the utensil at him menacingly. Remy just huffed a laugh at her and went back to his coffee. Rogue leaned back in her chair and glowered.
It really is unfair how good he looks in the morning. In her head, Remy's psyche preened. Rogue rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee.
"Cher," Remy said, breaking the silence, "I don't think we should tell anyone about your Tante's message. I know dat she's passed away, but telling Jean-Luc you had a family member dat could see the future isn't the best idea."
Rogue nodded her agreement but didn't say anything else. The truth was she didn't want to get into the details of her past with anyone from Remy's family. She could only imagine what Jean-Luc's reaction to Irene would have been had she still been alive. And she didn't trust the man wouldn't be able to find a way to use that information to his advantage anyhow. No, better to keep this to themselves.
On the other hand, Rogue wasn't sure what she wanted to do about her own family at this point.
She'd come down here promising to call if she ran into trouble – and this was definitely beginning to feel like trouble. Logan would want to know to be sure, probably Scott and the Professor too. But she didn't know what to tell them. Irene had left a vague warning that didn't mean anything on the surface, and Rogue wasn't sure what she could say about Remy's family. She doubted the Thieves wanted anyone else in their business and didn't like bringing the Guild's troubles to the Mansion's doorstep.
Besides, Rogue reasoned, technically, nothing bad has happened yet. I can always call later if things get worse. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, scrubbing a hand over her face. Glancing up, she looked at Remy, who seemed to be fully zoned out playing on his phone. She didn't believe it for a second. Yeah, better just to wait until there is something to tell.
"So now what, Sugah?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
"I need to head back to the Guild Hall. Do you want to stay here or come back with me?" Remy asked.
Rogue rolled the options around in her head. Truthfully, she had no hard plans beyond coming to New Orleans and seeing the house. Also, the idea that Irene was leaving her messages to find after her death didn't make Rogue want to stay in the house by herself.
"I'll head back with you. I need to give Mercy back her clothes anyway," she answered. Remy nodded at her, and Rogue headed off to find something to wear for the day.
An hour later, the pair pulled up to the Guild Hall on the back of Remy's motorcycle. Rogue noticed a black sedan with heavily tinted windows in front of the house. Over the engine's sound, she heard Remy curse under his breath, "Dey Runners are here. I thought dey wouldn't be by till later. Jean-Luc's gonna have my ass for dis."
Entering through the backdoor, Rogue spotted Tante Mattie sitting at the kitchen table, making a shopping list of some kind. Eyeing the pair, she quirked an eyebrow at the two of them. "Well, look what the cat's dragged in."
"Now, Tante. It's not like that. Just ended up stayin' with Rogue instead of coming back here den going back dis morning to pick her up." Remy said, giving his Tante an innocent smile.
Tante Mattie's face said she clearly didn't believe the yarn Remy had just spun for one moment. "Mm-hmm. You better go find your brother and Jean-Luc before they skin you for being late."
Remy winced but nodded his head dutifully. Stepping through the house into the foyer, they were intercepted by Jean-Luc and Henri.
"Dere ya are! I was wondering if you were going to make it back or if I'd have to send Emil after you deux." Jean-Luc greeted the pair with a beaming smile. Looking at Rogue, he added, "Bonjour, Petite. You look lovely dis morning."
"Désolé, Pere. I ended up staying at Rogue's." Remy offered by way of an apology.
"Mais, it's fine." Jean-Luc waved off his son's apology, still smiling at Rogue, "I can understand mon fils not wantin' to give up such belle company." Rogue managed to force a smile. Apparently, Jean-Luc hadn't given up on his charm offensive overnight. In fact, the man seemed thrilled about Remy spending the night at her house. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of irritation pass over Remy's face.
Henri looked like he was about to intervene when two men stepped into the foyer being led by a Thief. Rogue recognized the younger man as Colt from her conversation with Etienne the day before, but the older man was a mystery.
"Jean-Luc! It's good to see ya. I have some news from our acquaintances in the city," the older man said as his eyes flicked toward Rogue. Apparently, whatever he had to say wasn't for her ears.
Rogue was more than happy for the excuse to leave, "Oh, well then, let me just get out of your wa—"
"Nonsense!" Jean-Luc cut her off, "Alden. Colt. I'd like to introduce Rogue, a close friend of our family. Anything you need to say, you can say in front of her. Rogue, dis is Alden Hofmann, Guildmaster of the Runner's Guild, and Colt Breaux, his second-in-command."
Rogue noticed a look flash across Colt's face and disappear almost as quickly as it had come.
Well, he doesn't like that, Logan observed.
Rogue inwardly agreed before turning her attention to the Runner's Guildmaster. Alden was of average height if a bit on the thin side. He was probably close in age to Jean-Luc but had paler skin, a thinner face, and a receding hairline. He was immaculately dressed, however, in an expensive-looking suit.
Overall, Alden looked like he should have been selling you a used car, not running a crime syndicate.
"Ah! So this is the infamous Rogue," Alden gave her a smile that Rogue assumed was meant to be charming but left her feeling like she wanted to crawl into the nearest bathtub. "I'm delighted to meet you, my Dear. You're well known in these parts after that unfortunate Marti Gras situation two years ago."
Rogue restrained herself from turning to see how Jean-Luc responded to being taken hostage by his enemies being referred to as "that unfortunate Marti Gras situation." Keeping a straight face, she managed to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she responded politely, "I'm so glad to know I left an impression. It's very nice to meet you, Sir."
"Please call me Alden. I do feel I should warn you, my Dear, the Assassins know you're in town," Alden continued, a frown forming on his face, "Apparently, one of their boys saw you entering your house in the Garden District and told Marius."
Rogue felt the world tilt under her feet as everyone shifted uncomfortably. The idea that the Assassins had known she was here – that they knew where her house was – was a sickening notion. She glanced at Remy and noticed his mouth was set in a hard line. Apparently, this was news to him too.
"Of course, they also know you've been staying here with the Thieves Guild too. Can't get much past them, I'm afraid," Alden rolled on, either seemingly unaware of the bomb he just dropped or just not caring. "If you need any help, my Dear, the Runners Guild's doors are always open. Perhaps we can work out a deal if you need a safe place to stay. I have a few jobs that could use your touch." His eyes sized her up.
Rogue barely kept her jaw from dropping. Did everyone know about her powers? Scrambling, her mind tried to formulate a response that didn't involve profanity. She was saved when Colt spoke up.
"I think the Lady is quite happy where she's at. I'm sure the Thieves know how to keep things safe," he cut in smoothly and sent a warm smile to Rogue.
"Oui. We take care of our friends," Jean-Luc replied shortly, dark eyes narrowed slightly at Alden.
"Fair enough," Alden shrugged, addressing Rogue again, "As I said, the Runners Guild is always happy to host you, my Dear."
"You said you had news from de Assassins?" Jean-Luc questioned, shutting the door on the subject of Rogue visiting the Runner's Guild.
Alden straightened up and faced the leader of the Thieves Guild, "Yes. As I said, that may be a conversation worth having behind closed doors, at least until you decide what information you wish to share with your men." Alden replied in an obsequious manner. Jean-Luc gestured to follow him before turning on his heel, not waiting to see if the other Guildmaster followed.
Jean-Luc's office was a good-sized room dominated by a large ornate desk, hand carved and gilded with gold accents. One side of the room held wall-to-wall bookshelves, while the opposite side featured a fireplace with an ornate marble mantel. Above the fireplace was a framed map of New Orleans dated from the 1880s –an original, no doubt. A leather sofa and several club chairs dotted the room.
Rogue slipped into one of the armchairs by the fireplace as Jean-Luc sat behind his desk, with Alden taking one of the club chairs in front. Once again, Rogue was struck with the feeling that she was watching a chess match where all the pieces were set, and the game was about to begin.
"What did the Assassins say?" Jean-Luc asked addressing Alden.
"The general feeling of the Assassins is that the Thieves are behind the killing of their kin. However, Marius himself has not made any accusations. He did deny any involvement by the Assassins in the murders of the two Thief apprentices." Alden replied.
"Of course. I would be surprised if he hadn't. Can he account for all of his men on the two nights the killings occurred?"
"I'm afraid not. Though Marius did ask if you would be able to account for all of your men the night their apprentice was killed."
Jean-Luc's face was perfectly smooth as he considered what Alden was saying. Leaning forward, he bridged his hands, "It would seem we are at an impasse."
"Might I make a suggestion?" Alden ventured slowly, "While the Runners are happy to act as the go-between for the two Guilds if that will keep the peace, perhaps it is time we make plans for a Boucherie."
Rogue frowned at the unfamiliar word.
It's a Cajun tradition, Cher, when several families would come together to butcher a hog and have a cookout, mais the Guilds use Boucherie as a term for a face-to-face sit down to discuss important matters. Typically, either a Guild or the High Court hosts the Boucherie to act as mediators between the other two Guilds. Remy whispered in her mind.
It seems like a good idea, given what's going on, she thought. Rogue focused her attention again on the men in the room and the conversation going on around her.
"The Thieves Guild is open to partaking in a Boucherie," Jean-Luc replied formally.
"Excellent," Alden said, eyes glittering in excitement, "I'm glad to hear the Thieves Guild is open to the idea. The Runners, of course, are happy to act as mediators."
"Given the seriousness of the accusations, perhaps it would be a good idea for the High Court to mediate instead," Colt interjected evenly. Alden's smile slipped at that.
"Indeed. The Thieves are grateful to the Runners for all they have done so far, but the High Court should be involved to prevent the situation from becoming more unstable. However, the Thieves take no issue with the Runners being present for the Boucherie." Jean-Luc intoned.
"It would be our pleasure." Alden smiled tightly before continuing, "The Runners are happy to continue to act as the go-between to set up the Boucherie if that works for you, Jean-Luc."
"By all means."
Alden stood from his chair, clapping his hands together, "Wonderful. I will speak with Marius, and we can set a time. We'll call on their Guild this afternoon. Colt, let's get going." Rogue followed as the LeBeaus walked the two Runners to the door. As soon as the door was closed, Rogue quickly excused herself, saying she needed to return Mercy's clothes. She escaped, eager to leave before Jean-Luc could draw her into conversation again. She had never been one to shy away from a fight, but right now, Rogue wasn't sure what the fight was.
Rogue scrubbed a hand through her hair as she cut through the kitchen, glancing around to see if Tante Mattie had left the coffee pot on. No luck there. Sighing in frustration, she headed for the back stairs that led to the second floor.
A dark spot against the white plaster of the house caught her eye. Turning, she looked out the kitchen window. Emeric was standing further down the porch with a few other Thieves deep in conversation.
Well, that's concerning, Logan murmured.
Rogue hurried up the stairs and to her room. Easing open the French doors of her room, she crossed the second-story porch to the railing, carefully avoiding the noisy spots Remy's psyche pointed out. From her position, Rogue could just barely make out the group through the wisteria vines growing up the porch columns. She didn't dare try to get closer.
The anger in the voices on the lower level was unmistakable, even if Rogue couldn't make out individual words. Suddenly, Emeric's voice could be heard, "Damn LeBeaus… can't handle…Assassins…Thieves won't win dis." Someone shushed him, and the group below went silent.
Rogue didn't move. Didn't breathe. Her heart hammered so loudly in her ears that Rogue was sure they could hear it. She hadn't made a sound. Did they know she was up here? Moments ticked by. Slowly the group began to speak again, in more moderate tones, and started walking down the length of the house. As their voices turned the corner of the house, Rogue let out a breath, turning to go back to her room.
And damn near jumped out of her skin when she saw Etienne standing behind her.
"Sweet Jesus! Don't do that," Rogue snapped, pressing a hand to her chest she gripped the rail tightly with the other. Slowly her heart rate began to return to normal.
"Désolé," Etienne apologized, reaching for her before thinking better of it.
Rogue waved him off and glanced back over her shoulder, "What's with him?"
"Emeric? Oh, he hates my family," Etienne shrugged like it was no big deal.
"He hates ya?"
"Ouais, can't stand that Jean-Luc is in charge. He's always stirring up trouble."
"And Jean-Luc allows that?" Rogue had a hard time believing that Jean-Luc would allow open dissension in the Guild.
"Mais, if we took out everyone who was angling for power, there wouldn't be anyone left in the Thieves Guild. There's always someone trying t' dethrone the LeBeaus," Etienne shrugged again.
"Where are they going?"
"De Quarter."
"Does Jean-Luc know that?"
"Probably. Like I said, Emeric's always causing trouble. It's a good thing he's one of the top thieves in the Guild. Jean-Luc will put up with disloyalty, but he can't stand stupidity."
Rogue blinked. "You mean to say that Jean-Luc would rather you be a good thief than be loyal," she asked slowly.
"I mean, he'd like you to be both, but yeah. It's quick to buy someone's loyalty, but it takes a long time to train a good thief." Etienne looked at her like he was enjoying her confusion. He probably was. He reminded her of Bobby that way.
Rogue decided it was better to end the conversation before her brain short-circuited.
Remy stepped onto the porch through the doors leading to his room. "You're going to stay here tonight, Cher." He said, walking over to the two of them.
Rogue felt an itch of irritation at that. Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow, "Oh? When did I decide that?"
"Mais, just until we know if the Assassins will agree to a sitdown. Dat's all I'm saying," Remy's voice had adopted a tone she assumed he used to soothe wild animals. Rogue felt slightly mollified. Remy was right. The Assassins knew where her house was. Staying alone in the city would be a stupid mistake. "Unless you just want to get out of the city altogether. I can get you a ticket back to Bayville tonight."
"It's fine," Rogue said, striving for an unaffected tone. The look on Remy and Etienne's faces told her she didn't quite manage it. Still, Remy didn't seem inclined to push the issue. Instead, a smirk appeared on his face.
"Tsk. I knew you couldn't get enough of dis here, Cajun." He tutted at her.
Neither Rogue nor Etienne bothered to try and hide their eye roll at that.
XOXOXOXOX
Next Chapter: Rogue searches for answers to Irene's message, and Julien enters the scene.
Fun Fact: Boucheries are from the days before refrigeration when whole communities would get together to butcher, process, and cook a pig. Unlike a Pig Roast where the party starts about the time the pig is done cooking a Bouchierie includes the processing of the animal and every part is used for make a variety of dishes.