Between one wisp of green cloud and the next, the world changed. Amelia Voght was a powerful and skilled teleporter; she knew this compound well, and had many different spots she liked to use for private chats. She took Rogue to one of those now.
"I have to be honest, the necklace is really ugly." Amelia observed as Rogue looked around the new area curiously. A long hallway on an upper floor, there was a constant hum of some generator or engine nearby; perhaps a serviceway near the banks of elevators. A good spot for a quiet conversation. "Thought you had better taste than that." Amelia held up a remote,and Rogue accepted the remote from Amelia's offering hand.
"Yeah, Ah get that a lot fer a lotta different reasons." Rogue grumbled as she removed her jacket and backpack, stuffing the device and remote into her backpack. She slung it over one shoulder. "Thanks for gettin' me outta there, Amelia. If Ah had to stand around much longer, I didn't know if I was gonna cry, scream, laugh, or punch someone."
"I've got suggestions for an order, and a list of candidates as long as my arm." the other woman offered as she raked a hand through her hair. "Starting with a few folk in that room."
"You 'n me both." Rogue grinned at the Acolyte, and the sisterly moment of camaraderie passed. It was time to return to the problem at hand.
"So why didn't you knock Cortez's jaw off his skull?" Amelia seemed genuinely confused. Sure the Acolyte didn't know her well, but really now! Rogue suppressed the urge to sigh dramatically. Did everyone think of her as some weapon? Did no one think she had a brain at all?
Rogue wasn't just a wall the enemy couldn't break, or a knockout punch. She couldn't just fly fast, and talk enough smack for two people. She was trained by countless people, willingly - Momma, 'Reenie, the Professor - and otherwise. She wasn't a genius, but she wasn't a lackwit either. Rogue knew what to do. She watched, she listened, and she learned.
The Professor had trained his X-Men well, and Cyclops demanded even more. Drills, asides, requests, 'stretch assignments', Scott worked them all and expected them to know the major players. And the Professor was honest in his assessment of Amelia, Rogue knew from her studies and her own intuition. 'And I'm gon'keep following my intuition. Hasn't let me down yet.'
"Ah'm not here for him. But, y'know; rarely have Ah come to start a tussle with Magneto. I usually want to talk. And as I keep saying, Ah was invited." Her accent got a bit more pronounced with those last words. "My Momma - all of 'em - taught me better than that. Shame that so many others didn't have such luck or learned as good."
"I came late to the party, what happened? What happened to you?" Amelia asked, plucking at the remains of the coat Rogue had just removed.
"The welcome wagon." Rogue grumbled as she caught her fellow mutant up; from the less than hospitable welcome, to Pietro's sudden arrival, and their entrance into the hall. It didn't take too long, and Amelia took it pretty well, with only a few grumbles for Cortez.
"Well, Genosha doesn't normally try to exacerbate its guests, but this time we really went out of our way." Amelia said, in her way of apology. "I was supposed to greet you, but someone got to the harbor first. Though I wasn't expecting Pietro, it was a pleasant surprise."
Rogue paused, realizing what Amelia was saying around and in between the words. Voght was a teleporter, to have someone get the drop on her meant that she was either uninformed or she was intentionally distracted. If that's the case, then that means…
She understood in a flash and opened her mouth to speak it aloud. 'A traitor?!' Rogue nearly gasped aloud, but Amelia's stern look, coupled with a shushing gesture kept Rogue from speaking the words. Fumbling, looking for a conversation piece to continue just in case anyone were listening in, she found a topic.
"Just another thing Ah'll look forward to doin' when I see Cortez next. Though Er-..." Rogue paused and changed the way she spoke. She wasn't in America anymore, and she would need to be a little more careful with how she addressed the leader of a country. "Though others will prob'ly wanna fight me for their spot in the line." she grinned at the other woman, happy enough with her cover.
The other woman seemed to accept it as well. "I hadn't expected you to come, but if it had to be an X-Man, you're my pick." Even so, the red haired woman asked. "Any chance of a timely cavalry, or other back up?"
"Nope, jus' me." Rogue confirmed. "Ah think the rest're pretty busy, but we're in constant touch." That last was said a little louder in case anyone happened to be listening in on them.
Amelia nodded. "Alright. Well, with all that said, you're sure you're alright?"
No. Rogue wasn't alright. She was tired, sore, soaked, and still a little scared, if she wanted to be honest. It was still lurking there, under her anger. Rogue didn't like the collar she was pretending to ignore. She didn't want to let her memories rule her like this. She didn't want to feel that way, and after all, she was in a better position than last time.
Right?
And that was nothing against everything else that they going for
"Nothin' a bath can't cure," she said evasively. "Any luck that I might be able t'find one?"
Amelia nodded. "I've got the official orders. Let's get going."
Another teleport and a quick explanation of where they were - the private quarter side of the enormous building. Rogue almost said something, but before she could ask another question, Voght's ear communicator chimed. She tapped it, responded quickly, and terminated the call. Duty always remained, and was hardly patient, so with a mutual chorus of farewell, Rogue found herself alone.
It was a large room - of course it was, considering the person who ordered it set aside. There was an en suite, thankfully. That'd make sense. When others ruled this land, they had wanted their prestige to be known to their people, their guests, and the world at large.
Again, feeling uneasy at all the profit of mutant labor that was only now being taken back, Rogue tried to settle herself with the familiar rituals of bathing. It helped to soothe her mind, and recenter herself. As she scrubbed ocean water away, she planned what she could based on what she knew.
She knew some of the big players, and how much freedom she was expected to enjoy. That set her teeth on edge and she consciously took herself through a few breathing techniques Logan taught her when she first joined. It helped, as she scrubbed her hair clean, she formulated her plan.
Pietro was definitely not on Cortez's side. Amelia was certainly not happy with him. Magneto -
'Erik.' she thought firmly to herself, willingly running through every name she knew for him that had no honorifics including…
"Bucket head," she whispered into the shower head spray and giggled. It helped to be really childish when you were angry, it helped to reframe your mind and refocus. She wasn't going to let Cortez get his way, and she was going to punch him so hard his granddaddy was gonna feel it. That seemed like a good enough plan as any.
Finally, clean and feeling refreshed she exited the bathroom, toweling her hair dry as she settled into the only other clothes she had with her. A slim babydoll dress with a full bodystocking underneath. It was the fastest thing she could grab before she left for Genosha, and aside from a battle uniform she had tucked into the bag. It had been all that could really fit inside. It'd have to do for now.
She looked around the room she was given, wondering how long she'd have to wait, and how far she should push this silly cur-
'Rogue!' the thought came, so powerful most would have felt like their mind was assaulted by the telepath. For Rogue, there was a natural defense. Either due to all the other minds in Rogue's head, or an aspect of her powers itself, it was always difficult for a psychic to access her thoughts.
After a startled moment where Rogue foggily dropped the towel on the ground, she felt herself go inward and upward as her consciousness turned away from the physical world.
'Professor?' she asked, feeling the Professor's voice as if it was echoing from an aluminum pouch suspended in a tin can. He was most certainly in Cerebro. 'Yeah, Ah'm here. What's up? Y'got my note-'
'Rogue, don't you think considering the fact this is Magneto that you should perhaps give more than a note-'
Rogue bristled a little in reality, feeling her temper rise. But that wasn't going to fix much, and it would be something that would only weaken her argument. She held it and responded before this could go on too long.
'Professor, next time Ah go meet a head of state Ah'll give you some more warnin' okay? I think maybe first Ah should let you in on everything goin' on here.'
And she did; doing her best to focus her thoughts, to make herself more receptive to allowing other telepathic presences in a mind forever simmering with pressure and tension. The professor was able to understand her concerns, even with the limited depth. She focused her mind and continued to explain, outlining potential dangerous operatives and the little she had heard. She judiciously excluded the specifics of what happened in the large hall, she thought she might explode into ash if she thought about that with the Professor witnessing it, and through her memories, no less.
'An' ever since Cortez got outfoxed, I was left to m'lonesome with a promise that I'd see Magneto later. With Pietro also here, it'll be easier to keep an eye on all the major players. He's not too happy to be in Genosha, and was really disturbed by the folk that are gathering 'round his Dad. ' That was a good way to put it. To say Pietro was less-than-fond of Cortez was nothing shocking, given their meeting at the harbor.
'Erik knows to keep Cortez in a place where he can see him,' the Professor agreed, his thoughts carrying a myriad of feelings. She could feel it, the concern, the love. The worry, the guilt. The pain. But he wasn't trying to further remonstrate or order her back. He understood that she had capitalized on an opportunity, and perhaps, as X-Men, they could help the country, and their erstwhile ally. 'It concerns me, however. There are three major sides to this fight it seems; Magneto's, whatever else Cortez is plotting, and then this mysterious group that is kidnapping Genoshans indiscriminately.'
'Four, maybe, Professor. There's that Zealot everyone's talkin' 'bout. Dunno much, though.' Rogue admitted.
'Neither do I. S.H.I.E.L.D. states the Zealot was a former mutate. They think he can control the earth somehow. That's the extent of their report.' The professor stated with a wry burst of controlled frustration, swiftly extinguished. 'And you say that Magneto will see you soon?' Why was there such concern in the Professor's mind as he asked that?
Confused, Rogue thought back with confidence. 'Yes. Prolly tonight. He might be waitin' for me even now.' She couldn't keep a small thrill of excitement from creeping into the edges of her thoughts. The Professor might have noticed.
He had indeed.
'Be very careful, Rogue. He is at his most dangerous when he is at his most gentle,' her mentor warned. The psychic mutant had such quiet strength and confidence that his advice was well timed. Xavier had boundless beliefs in some things. In his dream, most certainly, but did he have faith in her? And did he have faith in what the dream meant to her?
However, at the Professor's words Rogue thoughts turned back to memories with Magneto in the past. Rogue remembered the glazed-over emptiness of Colonel Semyakov's eyes as he lay dead in a heap, eyes staring sightlessly. She remembered all the dead of the battles in the Savage Land. She thought back to Zaladane screaming as she died, to the men of the Leningrad's skeletons around them when he took the ship's nuclear missiles, to… 'I promise, Professor. Give my love to everyone. Ah'll be home soon.'
With that they parted and when the Professor recedes from her mind she returns to her body and her reality on the other side of the planet. Her eyes blinked and fluttered for clarity. As she did, Magneto was there, standing in front of her. She hadn't realized they had remained open during the conversation, glazed over as they looked and moved with her thoughts and the Professor's conversation. Though it hadn't taken too long - had it? - she felt disoriented. Shapes, colors, patterns all had to be relearned for a moment. She hadn't realized how deeply entranced she had been.
Magneto was standing before her. There was a concerned, but not worried look on his face. She realized she was seated and looking up at him. When had she sat down? There, by the center of the room, her discarded towel. She was racing to catch up to what reality had continued to produce during her conversation. Perhaps she had subconsciously walked to the bed? Perhaps…had he guided her here? His hands - ungloved - were hovering near her sleeve-covered arms. He seemed either just completing the action of seating her, or ready to catch her if she needed it, but once she started to return to herself, he began to back away.
Rogue stared up at him uncomprehendingly, and the return look was one of patience and understanding.
"I have seen the look of one in a telepathic conversation before. Tell me, is Charles well?" he asked.
So urbanely asked. It was as if weeks ago the two had jousted not only over ideals, but in action as well. And years before, he…they…
"Y…Yes." she acknowledged. "He's worried. He felt what I did was rash."
"Accepting an invitation?" Erik asked with an eloquently arched brow. It was amazing how much he could convey with such an economy of movement and word. He was dressed in a gunmetal gray suit jacket and slack combination that whispered its influence and wealth. There was a white shirt underneath, but no tie, the first button undone, reminding Rogue of something, but it was gone before she could remember.
"They didn't know that." she said, finding this excuse swiftly wearing thin. If it was good enough for his group, it oughta be good enough for her too. "Brought it with me, was plannin' on usin' it if anyone gave me a proper chance to ring the doorbell." she said, referring to the destroyed remnants of her outfit.
Erik nodded and offered a hand to her. She accepted and rose to her feet. Rogue didn't need it, he knew that, and yet, they both wanted to perform the niceties. It was normal, and so much of this day had been anything but. So much of their lives have been anything but.
He drew her to her feet, and for a moment she was swept back to a summer afternoon in what felt like three lifetimes ago. The sound of music coming from old-fashioned mono sound speaker with sun-warmed dust motes suspended lazily in the air of the ballroom. She could nearly smell it from memory, a memory she cherished and revisited often.
She smiled up at him as he returned it. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but before he could, she backed away with a murmur and turned to the dresser. Cursing herself for a coward while she crossed the room, Rogue tried to act like none of this was a big deal. She was nervous, and wanted to bridge past any awkwardness as quickly as possible.
He cleared his throat. "I had thought perhaps we could use the private dining quarters for tonight. I hope you don't mind spending the evening there. It seemed the most -"
"No, it makes sense. Stayin' here, in one place makes it less likely we're tryin' t'hide somethin'," she said in an effort to appear agreeable. After the tense interaction she left him in and the Professor's many warnings, doubt was beginning to fill her and she wanted to appear calm and at ease.
"What were you thinking we'd have for dinner, leftove-" she asked playfully as she picked the collar up with one hand and her face turned away in an effort to hide her distaste. Not for leftovers, but for the inhibitor device But in the very next she dropped it as he gripped her wrist, his fingers firm as iron. She hadn't realized he followed her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone even and gentle, but no less steely.
"Huh?" she echoed blankly, confused as their eyes locked. She was suddenly feeling a rush of vertigo in her memory. Warm, tropical heat and sounds filled her mind, and suddenly she no longer felt like she was in Genosha. Well-trained reflexes kicked in, she was here, that was a memory, and he was really here too. So stay focused.
"You do not need that device when you are with me." Magneto insisted softly. She heard him and resolved to stay in the present, and not get lost in the past. She couldn't get distracted! There was a note of irritation in his voice. Was it for her?
"But Cortez-"
"Cortez does not rule. I do." He practically growled the simply stated words, and the look that he gave her was enough that she broke his gaze. Her cheeks flared as she looked down and away from him. His grip softened and he made a small noise as if to clear his throat, and called her name softly.
She looked up. His eyes weren't angry with her, merely serious. "I will decide if and when it is needed. And it will never be, when you are with me." Were they getting closer? Yes. He was drawing her to him, and if she thought her face was red before, well…
His thumb pressed against her cheek, not too hard, but with intent. Rogue wanted to let her eyes flutter closed like they did long ago, at the bottom of the world. Back then, they had only a brief window. Was this their opportunity to recapture the time they thought lost? Time was going to freeze if she let this continue, right? Right now, she felt like she couldn't move if she wanted to, and oh God above, she didn't.
Throughout their previous encounters she had found him an unfathomable well of power. Not just in the strength of mutant ability, but also in mind. Magneto was considered an omega level mutant, though the full definition of what that means was still forthcoming. What Rogue did know was that the man was power incarnate. He was a force of nature.
But in this moment she didn't want to absorb his powers, his memories, or his mind. Not right now, and not here at this moment. She also didn't want to overreact, and jump aside, or shout in alarm. The whole room, the whole country really, felt like it was simmering with tension and ready to explode. She wouldn't be the cause of it for any reason.
"You're not afraid of hurting me? Of me hurting you?" he asked, a small note of surprise in his voice. With one firm hand, she slid her gloved hand under his, breaking the skin on skin touch possibility before a transfer to occur. He did not break eye contact as he transitioned the grip to hold her hand in his.
"No, not like that. Not tonight at least." she reasoned and broke the explanation off with a smile. "Ah think I've made it pretty clear I'm not here for a fight. And if you were, ya woulda done it hours ago."
He nodded, approving. "When we saw one another last," a mild way to put that madcap series of battles. "At its climax you held Logan back from his killing thrust. You, out of the entire group. Why, Rogue?"
And so, the first difficult conversation had begun. She knew that tonight would be a chance for her to give him what he so desperately sought from others. Trust. It was hard to keep her head straight though, the two were standing so close to one another with their fingers interlaced. Her hand felt like he was supercharging it with electricity. It shot up her spine, to the base of her skull, and she wanted to close her eyes to experience it. She managed - barely - to refrain from drifting away into her thoughts and feelings; staying in the moment was far more important.
She kept her eyes on him. "You know why, Erik. Charles taught us both why. You taught others. If the situation were reversed, we both know you'd've done the same for Charles."
He paused, looking at her with something inquiring and bemused in his eyes. Did he disagree with her? "Come. Despite my assertion that I rule here; that writ does not extend over Saucier. When he declares the hour a meal will be served, that is the time. I dare not raise his ire by tarrying further."
Silently, unsure of what to say to any of that in response, Rogue went willingly with him. The door swung to admit them and then to close and lock securely after they passed. He was considerate of her privacy, and obviously would allow no other to enter. She appreciated that. Greatly.
The halls were mostly empty. Apparently these quarters were part of the private residence, and so only those with reason to travel the halls had need. Some were performing late evening duties, but other than that, it was a fairly private journey.
In the private dining area, the center of the room was cleared for their meal. Saucier awaited them at a modest sized table. There was a pair of silvery cloche at the table, along with other place settings. There was music playing in the background, something soft and unobtrusive, but there to act as a foil for anyone to attempt to listen in.
'Considerate, impressive, and elegant.' she thought to herself as the mutant chef bowed to his king, and offered her also a genteel flourish. 'Everything I've ever wanted him t'be.' Something about that set her on guard, but also…she desperately wanted to fall for it.
She wanted that so desperately.
They approached the table. Erik pulled her chair back magnetically, but allowed their maitre'd, chef, and witness of the evening to seat her. When seating himself, he seemed satisfied enough to use his powers alone.
Rogue sat and thanked Saucier as elegantly as she could imagine, and the man returned in flawless French. She knew the language well, having grown up where she did, and the various lives she absorbed into her psyche. It was surprising sometimes, what she knew from snippets of other conversations around her, and what she learned. It was similar to being a master of none, but a jack of all trades.
A Jack…a deck of cards...Rogue looked down at her plate, clenching her hands into fists for a brief second, banishing the visual discomfort. She missed seeing Magneto's miniscule reaction to her distress, but the moment passed before either could catch the other. Rogue was resolute, however. She was going to tackle this one problem at a time.
And maybe enjoy whatever dinner was to be while she did it? No one could blame her, what with the scents already wafting about the whole room. Whatever dinner was, it made her mouth water in anticipation.
He made no movement, but clearly he was in control as both cloches floated away from the plates, revealing the meal with a subtle, dramatic flair. Saucier bowed once again to them as he began to describe the meal. "...and for the entree stuffed baked local snapper with a fresh pea velouté, pomme écrasée, avec…erm," Saucier paused before remembering. "Roasted vegetables. Please, enjoy."
And enjoy they did. Their first bites were appreciated only after crisp, icy white wine was decanted into chilled glasses chased in metal. Before retreating to an unobtrusive distance to maintain the flow of the meal, Saucier completed the ceremony that all chefs perform. It was the timeless elegant dance of skill and precision of a meal made by a master craftsman, despite the apparent humble easiness of the meal, it was all assuredly amount to a perfect, harmonious bite.
Now alone, the pair began their dinner. From the first taste, Rogue knew she was in for a meal of rare experience. The flavors sang on the plate in a unifying chorus of delight. "Amazing…" she hummed in pleasure.
"Yes." he said simply after a moment of quiet contemplation, letting the single word have two meanings. The only reason she caught on was his unerring gaze on her. That and the faintest glimmer of a smile that played in them.
"Oh. Y'think some good fish get's you off th'hook?" she asked, spearing him with a playfully indignant gaze as she took a bite. "Some really good fish." she admitted with the same air of amiability.
"Well?" He prompted, a critical eye leveled at her, evaluating.
"Ah'm…still deciding." She took another bite, savoring the delicate dance of flavor.
He chuckled before he managed to catch himself, and return to his meal.
For a while, the conversation was light. Congenial. They managed to find things to discuss that didn't include the absurdities of super villains that found other paths. But eventually, there was the truth of the matter. This wasn't a casual evening dinner between two adults.
"I was glad you wrote to me, Erik,"she said, as the conversation naturally began to turn. Even so, she couldn't help blushing. To try and hide it, she sipped at her wine, the first time of the night. It was delicious, much like the rest of the night had been.
Had been.
He made a small noise in agreement. "I am glad you agreed to come. I wish we were without an audience this day. The pressures of new statehood means a great deal of meetings, planning sessions, and endless conferences." He shook his head, and went on.
"That is not to say that I am ungrateful, or regret my current role." Was there a note of bitterness in his voice? Was he worried that she was here for some other reason than a chance to speak? Did he really trust her to be here on her word?
"I am going to change this nation," he continued firmly, as the music transitioned to a slow, classical piece. It was completely discordant to the topic he was discussing. "This was a land born in blood and tears. In fear, in bondage. I will not let anyone fall into that chaos and despair again. I cannot fail. I will not fail." He looked at her, his eyes piercing, capturing hers the way they always did. She felt like she was unable to move, though she was certain he wasn't using his power on her.
He continued. "Genosha is a frightened country, full of intentional misinformation, built on the back of authoritarian control. To have a people who were ruled by an iron fist, the first explosion of freedom could be the wick attached to the powder keg that could detonate everything in the nation."
"To be a leader is to understand the difference between 'strong', and 'hard'. At some point, however, the political heights no longer distinguish that. Therefore, to survive those misconceptions, you must be stronger, harder, and more flexible. You must be more than steel. You must be what attracts everything, everyone else."
"Too many times was my gaze set on sights too small, my ambitions too petty. No longer. I will be the shield my people shelter behind, and the sword of their justice."
After all that, he paused and asked a simple question. "Do you understand, Rogue?"
Rogue felt like this was getting dizzying, worrying about if every sentence could be a plot, or just a feint. It's easier to focus on the moment, react and prepare as best you can with what you got. No need to worry about the rest for now. Magneto had never performed such stratagems with her before. He had always been straightforward.
She felt held in place by his gaze even as the world dropped out from under her. As he stared at her, Rogue felt a rush of past moments with him surge up in her. This happened occasionally. Sometimes they were memories, experiences from other people. This time though, they were all her own.
She remembered all the times she looked at her like this, where he was seeking connection with her. Trust for a dance. Trust in the Savage Land as he prepared their meager, ragtag troops against the megalomaniacal madwoman. Trust in him now.
"So…you're going to do whatever's necessary, right?" she asked slowly, unable to look away, and able to control only one part of the conversation; her speed in it. She felt trapped by him, as if he were using his powers on her. From across the table he completely filled her vision, there was nothing else as she looked at him in his sere, elegant suit.
"As I have always done," he stated clearly. "I have never claimed that this existence is fair. I have, as always, acted in the defense of those I care about. And now, with a nation, I must act to defend them." He paused. "All of them."
Rogue set her waterglass down. "You…really mean that? All Genoshans?"
"All save those who deny me, who aided the former regime, and those who will not repent, recant, and take oath. Yes. All Genoshans," he vowed, as if the exclusions explained that in full.
Rogue was so astonished by his…growth that she was at a momentary loss for words. She hadn't expected he was willing to also protect his sapien populace. That made her feel like he was willing to listen, or at least…lead in a way not to exacerbate the world community.
Maybe this could work.
"As I have said to all the nations of the world: make no mistake," Erik said, his voice firm. "Anyone who goes against the will of Genosha will feel its full wrath."
"Because they have to die?" she asked softly, meaning more than just the men of the Leningrad. More than just Zaladane. Each and every single person that the man before her had murdered, not just what she witnessed, what she knew. Her fork clacked to the table, her appetite suddenly disappearing.
"Yes." The answer was soft, succinct and firm. It was punctuated by him cutting a portion of his snapper and eating it quietly. He seemed to regard her with the same look. "My only regret is that it upsets you, Rogue."
She sighed and shook her head. Their meal continued in silence. An awkward minute passed before she marshaled her courage to ask the other enormous question she was dying to ask. It'd be best to get all of it out of the way before the coffee and dessert were brought out, right?
She decided to just go in for it, no regrets.
"Don't you want to ask after Gambit?" Ok, hiding that note of bitterness was impossible. She was doing so well at holding herself back too.
"Will you ask after any of the other loves in my life?" he asked, as he took a sip of wine to punctuate the question.
Startled, her face flamed scarlet. "No. That was before, an' it doesn't reflect on this momen-" She broke off as the amused light in his eye made her flush flame brighter. So much for that.
"You'll hafta excuse me," she said, sighing wearily. "The others, the way they'd talk about me havi-"
"Gossiping? I thought Charles and his students were above that," Magneto observed with a note of disapproval in his voice for those who would dine so happily on others tragedies.
"No, that's not what I meant, Erik," she protested. "They care…and most of the folk Ah talked to, they went through that thing, the Siege Perilous. You've seen what happened t'Betsy, an' Alex wasn't much better off himself in a lotta ways." And that's all she was going to say about pre-liberation Genosha for the night.
Rogue shoved her own experiences previously here to the back of her mind and forged on. "Piotr, he lost his memories for months. We couldn't even find Ali for the longest time. When Ah reported in, some of 'em doubted mah mind. With mah history, can you blame them? It's the very reason Ah went to them t'begin with."
Rogue stabbed a roasted carrot with her fork, wanting to really thrust at something, but forever needing to hold back. To marshall her temper and her strength. To hold on just hard enough. It was such a straining, stressful balance, and she was weary from having the fortitude to endure it.
"Erik, they worried for th'longest time Ah was there on Mystique's orders, or jus' using 'em til mah powers were under control. It took a lot t'get them to trust me. It took even more for them t'care about me. You know exactly what that's like, sugah."
He didn't acknowledge her point hit home, but neither did he make a complaint. Rogue continued on, undaunted. She knew the validity of her argument, and the truth of it in her own heart. She wanted to share that with him, to share her mind, her truth, as she forever seemed to attempt with the iron-willed man. Normally events were dire, and their time limited. But tonight, thanks be, he was listening. Willing. Receptive. "When Ah returned, an' after everything on Muir Island…" she paused as she banished those uncomfortable memories.
"By the time we came outta that, we were all hurt, damaged in some way. No big surprise, considering the tragedies we suffered in that time." How mild to frame the experience. "So, yeah. I don't know what else to tell you. They talk about us because they care. They're family,"she said as she looked up at him and shrugged, with a small appreciative smile.
He nodded acknowledgement, understanding, acceptance, and more. The silent moment was shared, the layers of love were far more complex than a tiered dichotomy. What else could be said? He knew of it too, he experienced it, lived it. 'Maybe he lives in it still?' She asked herself in a sudden moment of insight. Did anyone ever really, truly leave the X-Men?
She wasn't certain of that, but she had a feeling he more than knew, he tried to actively deny it. Rogue decided not to press on it for now. 'Perhaps that would be something I could work on,' she thought to herself, accepting her intuition and capitalizing on it.
The music was a good bridge into a companionable silence, until a mischievous glint was in her eye as she queried, "You won't ask after Gambit. But what about Immortus?" Her question caught him off guard and he burst out in laughter, his flatware floating to the table.
"Immortus!" he choked out before grabbing his water glass taking a clearing draught. "My dear, your talent at finding a way past every guard I place is exceptional. You never cease to amaze me."
"Aw," she improvised, daring to take the bit a little further. "Ah'm just jokin', Ah never gave him a second date."
"Is this ours?" Magneto's voice was gentle, probing, even.
"Our what?" she laughed, looking for own graceful descent down from the conversational heights they were on.
"Our second date?" he prompted, his eyes direct and uncompromisingly focused on her.
Rogue met Magneto's stare and realized the bit had ceased. He was rather serious about his line of questioning. "Third," she answered truthfully, dropping all artifice.
"The dancing lesson..." they said in unison and smiles broke out over their faces at the memory. They returned to dinner, discussing the paths of the New Mutants, which had seemed to be an extended road trip, but also quite a bit of self-discovery.
The music played on, and the pair lost themselves in conversation.
