Blueshift

Blueshift Chapter Thirty Six (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *squeak * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: Check your email. Morgan: *hugs* Readers/Reviewers: Okay, one more time b/c I know I’m gonna get an email when I get back “Why so few updates?” I’m going out of town for a week but I’m leaving updates in the capable hands of Foxy to beta and ProPhile to post to the group. It’s not going to be an every day thing but at least three/four updates and then back to regular schedule while I’m gone. Same for HHNF and MP, at least some updates before I go/while I’m gone. *GLOMP *


Rahne wanted to bite someone. She suspected it was the wolf in her coming out due to being so tired and, she admitted to herself, more than a little confused. Stretching her feet and legs, she slid down in the sofa a bit and tuned out the soft voices and excited jittering around her, letting her eyes close and folding her hands across her stomach. Sometimes, she thought, she missed Scotland, even if it meant living with her crazy mother and the intolerance of her insular community. She let her mind wander into a half dream, half memory of the time her mother took her to visit cousins in another village. Rahne had been surprised to see that her cousins and their friends had so much freedom. They had chores, sure, but not like her. Their parents did not deride them or make them feel worthless and Father James, the nice Priest who came for tea while they were visiting, did not tell any of them they were doomed to Hell. Jamie’s voice near her left ear made her twitch but she realized he was not speaking to her so allowed her mind to drift further into memories and dreams.
_Rahne. _
She became very still. It did not sound like a voice from her past but she was not sure. It was more of an impression of her name than an actual voice, she thought.
_Rahne Sinclair, you are not like the other primitives, are you? _
Her eyes flew open but she did not move. Her senses were on high alert as she scanned the room by glance only. Jamie and Paige were listening intently to the Professor, Jono seemed bored, staring down at his feet. Kurt and Kitty had been sent on tasks and Storm was speaking in low, tense tones to Todd. Others were coming, she could hear their footsteps overhead, but none of them had spoken to her. It had not been Jean, Jono or the Professor’s “voice”.
_Rahne Sinclair. _
Her eyes flickered to the four strangers and met the gaze of the tallest one, pale and oddly graceful even though she did not move. “Me?” Rahne mouthed.
Lilandra smiled faintly, quickly. “Pardon me” she said slowly, as if the words were heavy in her mouth. She stood and the room fell silent. “I require,” she paused, scanning her mental databases for the word, “a drink. Please show me the way,” she added, staring directly at Rahne.
Rahne stood, her eyes wide and round. She glanced at Jamie, who was staring up at her with open mouthed awe. “I didn’t just perform open heart surgery with a spoon,” she hissed. “I’m taking her to the kitchen!” She sniffed and nodded to the stranger. “Would your friends like one, too?”
“No,” she answered for them. “They do not thirst.”
Rahne paused for the barest fraction of a second then nodded. “Right. Well, this way then…” She felt the eyes of all of her friends and teachers on her as she led the tall woman into the foyer. When the study door shut behind them, she stopped again. “I don’t know your name,” she said, eyeing the woman.
“Lilandra,” she said simply, looking as if she wanted to say more. “You are Rahne Sinclair. My sister read it in your mind. She told me you would be helpful.” Her smile was soft and almost apologetic. “We have been gravely mistaken about the primitives, it seems…”
“The…primitives?” Rahne blinked. “Oh, us. Well, I guess that’s better than being called mutie freaks or crimes against nature.” She turned and started to walk towards the kitchen again only to stop short and turn around sharply, nearly causing Lilandra to run into her. “Wait… why are we primitives? You’re a mutant, too. I thought we were Homo superior,” she added in a snide tone. “At least that’s the story some of us are going with.”
Lilandra’s pale brow arched. “I am not a mutant. I am Shi’ar.” She said this with pride, albeit sadness-tinged pride. “I am Princess Majestrix Lilandra Neramani, exiled from my homeworld because…”
“Whoa… let’s cut back on the Star Wars, okay?” Rahne laughed uneasily. The woman’s speech was still accented, slightly halting, but her fierce certainty was almost overwhelming. “Water okay?” she asked, striving to change the subject she herself had initiated, walking towards the kitchen again.
Lilandra was silent until they had reached the other room and Rahne motioned her towards a wooden chair while she retrieved a glass and some ice. “You are…unique. Even among the rest of your sort. Not all are like you. You know what it means to be exiled,” she said in a low, soft voice.
Rahne felt a chill run down her spine. “Pardon me?”
“My sister… she saw it. You are exiled from a palace of stone and gold. The king has banned you to this place, far from home and far from…” she paused, tilting her head to one side, “A dead primitive?” Her eyes strayed to the crucifix on Rahne’s neck and her finger pointed out the image.
Rahne sighed and covered the metal with her hand. “Stay out of my head. And this stranger in a strange land gig only carries you so far. Someone is going to snap to soon and find out you lot are out of your gourds.”
Lilandra was not insulted as Rahne had assumed she would be. Rather, she smiled and stood, ignoring the glass of ice water. “You are more like us than you realize, Rahne Sinclair. You will be most useful in the times to come.”