A Dark and Stormy Night
2
xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">
A Dark and Stormy Night, chapter two (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…I’m finally catching
up, lol! Readers/Reviewers: *more glomps * to Shkspr1048 for letting me write
his bunny and *twirly dance of thanks * to all y’all who’re reading and
reviewing!
“I am an
old man, Mystique,” Eric sighed against the cold glass windowpane.
days like this.”
Mystique,
ageless and bored, made a murmuring noise of agreement as she studied her
reflection in the glass beside him. “It
is probably a joint ailment,” she sighed after a moment.
Eric raised
one brow but otherwise made no comment.
He merely stared at the bright morning landscape, the crystalline snow
deceptively beautiful, spread as it was across the dead grass.
face as his immortality came tumbling by: a ball of limbs and tail, all blue
and laughter, rocketed past the window, followed closely by a silver-gold blur
that could only be the last of the Lehnscherr line. “Pietro is too old for games like that,” he said suddenly,
pushing away from the view and returning to his ledger.
play. Pietro has studies to attend to.”
Mystique
pressed her lips together in a thin line, glaring. “You’re too hard on the boy,” she said finally in a low,
dangerous tone. “You place too much
value on our…your son.”
Eric did
not even look up from his books as he waved her off. “Find Pietro and tell him to finish his work. Wanda should be
checked on as well. I do not like it
when they are this quiet.” He did not
exhale his pent up breath until Mystique vanished from the room.
Kurt
pouted. He had been having fun, he
thought to himself. Why did he have to
stop, he wondered. “Mama,” he lisped through
the gap in his front teeth, “why’d PiePie have to go inside?
Mystique
barely checked her snarl. “Do not call
me that name. You may call me Mystique.
Or ma’am,” she added as an after though. “You are HIS son, not mine.”
Without another word, she turned her back on the startled boy and strode
back into the mansion in the direction Pietro had taken, through the side door
of the old servant’s entrance that led directlythe the antiquated kitchen.
Fleetingly,
Kurt thought of hot chocolate and some yummy rolls he just knew were still in
the basket on the table, but he felt like maybe people were mad at him; Pietro
had pushed him extra hard during their games today and even pulled his hair
until he cried uncle. And now Mystique
was not letting him call her Mama, a name he identified with the fellow
blue-skinned person without ever being instructed to do so.
away from the welcoming lights of the house and trudged on short legs towards
the ice-dappled river bordering the property.
He loved to go there in the spring and see the baby animals, maybe even
feed them like Pietro had done only a few months ago, but he decided that the
naked landscape did not make him feel so bad right now.
on a stump near the water’s edge. “All
ugly.” He rested his chin on his knees
and closed his eyes. He was only five but
already, he felt like he had a weight on his shoulders.
the next. Even Kurt could tell Pietro
was being forgotten and he didn’t like that a bit. Kurt thought of Pietro as his friend, his brother even and it
hurt him to see the boy so mad. In
turn, Pietro had become more…aggressive towards little Kurt, who bore the
bruises to show for it. “Dumb tree…ugly
too,” he grumbled, flinging a chunk of ice at it.
“It’s not
ugly,” a kindly voice laughed from across the narrow river.
hands, smiling across the river at him.
“Who’re
you?” he demanded with childish authority.
“This is my daddy’s land!”
She
shrugged one shoulder. “I’m feeding my
family,” she replied in the same tone she would have used with an adult.
“Dunno,”
Kurt sighed. “Hiding or somethin’.”
again. “I can’t go inside cuz PiePie’s
mad at me and Mama…Mystique…is mad at me…”
“What could
a little boy like you have done to make them so mad?” she wondered aloud, still
smiling at him. “Surely it can’t be
anything too terrible!” She set her
basket don and moved closer to the edge of the bank. “You’re far too sweet looking to be a hellion!”
“I dunno,”
he shrug
“A bad
little boy,” she said blandly, no trace of the lurking smirk on her
features. “You look to be a very good
little boy. God would not have made you
so beautifully if you were not good inside.”
Kurt looked
down at his blue hands, then at her olive-skinned ones.
color an’ got pointy ears and a toof that sticks out!”
incisor and grinned. “My name’s
Kurt. Who’re you?”
“Ah…call me
Mama Wagner,” she said gently, retrieving her basket. “I must return to my camp but…would you like to meet me here
tomorrow, Young Kurt? I shall bring you
a sweet…”
He
nodded. “Would I!”
disappeared back into the trees, a snatch of tune drifting behind her.
“Dinner.”
The sharp
voice made him jump and turn, guilt suffusing his face. Wanda raised an eyebrow
and waited. “Okay,” he squeaked. Kurt
followed her back to the mansion, already looking forward to the next
afternoon.