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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
 
 
 

Betrayal - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 43

Charles felt his stomach tighten at the knock on his study door. This could either go very well or very poorly, and no matter which, it would still be difficult.

"Come in," he called.

Remy poked his head around the door. "You rang?" There was a definite bite of sarcasm to the words, and Charles' stomach twisted another notch. He should have used the intercom. He hadn't meant to antagonize the young man by calling telepathically, but it was just so hard to watch him locking that portion of his mutant heritage away again.

*You should know better than this, Charles,* he scolded himself. *Pushing him when he isn't ready won't do any good.* And now they were certainly off to a bad start. He kept his sigh to himself and tried to gather his wits.

"Hello, Remy."

"Professor." Remy stepped into the room. He moved with a predatory ease that Charles had come to identify as an instinctive reaction to an uncertain situation. It hurt to know that Remy was that uncomfortable around him, but he couldn't really blame him. They had had little contact since their one conversation. Rogue had returned not too long after, to Charles' immense relief, and he had done his best not to interfere in their relationship. But that was more of an excuse than not. The truth was that he had a huge number of important things to do, and it was simply easier to bury himself in his work than deal with his-- very-- estranged son. Part of the knot in his stomach was shame for having done so, and even now he wanted to shuffle the papers on his desk rather than face the man before him.

He forced his hands to remain still, clasped together on the desk in front of him. "I've put a call through to the Shi'ar homeworld," he said. "It will still be a few minutes before they can link up at their end, but I thought you might want to be here." *So I can introduce Lilandra to the son she hasn't had yet.* And, unfortunately, he had no idea how Lilandra would react. The Shi'ar religion was built entirely on the marriage of two gods, and so both marriage, and children-- which they saw as validation of the marriage-- were extremely important to their culture. Children born outside of wedlock were even more of a cultural taboo there than on Earth. Lilandra was something of an exception. As Empress, she could not marry unless she were willing to acceed her throne to her husband, who would become Emperor. Instead, she could take a consort and still keep her throne. But Charles didn't know if that arrangement allowed for children. They'd never talked about it.

"So you finally decided t' tell her, eh?" Remy's gaze was distant, filled with something Charles couldn't see.

"Do you. . . . remember her very well?"

Remy surprised him by switching to Shi'ar. "Yes." He turned and wandered over to study the books on one of the many shelves that lined the walls.

Charles didn't know what to say-- or what language to say it in. The single syllable gave him no clue as to Remy's state of mind, but he suspected that Remy was taking a subtle stab at him. He tried to ignore it, and to keep in mind that he could be misinterpreting the action entirely. That was one of the most frustrating things. Remy was impossible to read. He was too used to hiding his feelings for Charles to trust what he saw, and with his shields in place, too difficult to scan had Charles been willing to try it.

Remy had pulled a book off the shelf and was slowly leafing through it. It was a copy of "The Velveteen Rabbit" that Charles had had since he was a boy.

"My father gave that to me," he said, deciding to stick with English.

"I know." Remy switched back to English as well, and Charles wondered what, if anything, that meant. He only had a brief moment to consider until Remy continued, "It was my favorite. Y' used t' read it to me every night when we were here."

Charles' heart did a savage flip-flop. Remy finished leafing through the book and set it carefully back on the shelf. His fingers trailed down the spine almost reverently, as if it were important to him to have found a concrete piece of his past.

"Keep it," Charles said on impulse.

Remy shook his head. "Non. De book belongs here-- f' now."

Charles didn't get a chance to ask what he meant by that because the computer beeped, announcing the completed connection to the Shi'ar homeworld. A holographic image began to take shape beside the desk and Charles turned to face it. Remy walked over and leaned on the corner of the desk.

The projection solidified, and Lilandra smiled at him. She was still a bit translucent, but Charles had learned to ignore that. She was dressed in her Imperial armor and held the staff of her office in one hand. Regal and beautiful, she managed to take his breath away no matter how often he saw her.

"Greetings, Lilandra." It was a formal address that would probably sound strange to anyone else, but it always seemed appropriate.

"Charles, my love." Her eyes travelled over him. "Are you well?"

He nodded and her gaze moved to Remy. "Gambit, is it not?"

"Oui." He watched her with something akin to hunger. Charles was certain she noticed it when she turned a questioning look to him.

Charles took a deep breath. "Some. . . things. . . have happened recently that I must tell you about."

Lilandra's expression deepened from concern to alarm. "Is your Earth threatened?" she asked immediately. The crest of feathers that framed her face quivered as if she were steeling herself for another crisis.

"No, no," he hastened to reassure her. Since the latest attempted coup, she had been run ragged trying to keep chaos from erupting. As far as Charles knew, the situation was still highly volatile. This probably wasn't going to help, but he couldn't keep the truth hidden from her-- not only for the sake of his conscience, but because it was possible an enemy might find a way to use the information against her, and she deserved to be warned.

Lilandra watched him expectantly.

"This is about Gambit." There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Lilandra's alarm faded some, turned to curiosity. "His real name is Rem'aillon Neramani."

She registered surprise, and turned to Remy. "You are Shi'ar?"

"Half." He remained expressionless.

She stared at him for a bare moment as outrage darkened her features. "D'Ken did not-- !"

"Rape another human woman? Not that I know of." Charles hadn't thought she might jump to that conclusion, though it made sense.

Lilandra's anger dimmed, returned to curiosity. She watched Charles and waited for an answer.

"Remy is *our* son, Lil," he told her. Lilandra's eyebrows arched in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, and Charles had his own moment of shock. The speculative expression put a sharp cant on her brows, reminiscent of gull wings. Remy had that exact same expression, and he had never noticed the similarity before.

Lilandra's mouth worked silently for a short moment before she settled on "How?" Her gaze darted back and forth between himself and Remy.

Charles sighed. "The whole story is a long one, and rather. . . . gruesome. Suffice it to say that he was cast back in time as a child. He hasn't actually been born yet."

"Indeed." Charles watched as she and Remy studied each other. Curious and wary, black eyes and red. Eventually, Lilandra broke the silence.

"If Charles says that this is so, then it is so." For a moment, her royal bearing faltered, revealing the woman underneath. "But I am at a loss for what to say beyond that."

Remy shrugged. "Y' don' have t' say anyt'ing."

Her smile was grateful. "You will have to come here once things have quieted down. So that we can talk."

Several expression warred on Remy's face. "I would. . . . like dat. Aman."

Her brows dipped. "That is going to take some getting used to."

Aman. Mother. And he had yet to call Charles anything but "Professor". Charles tried to keep his sudden stab of jealousy in check.

The hologram wavered and Lilandra looked away toward something or someone he couldn't see. When she looked back, she was frowning.

"I am sorry. We're going to lose the transmission in a few moments." She turned again to Remy. "But we must talk."

He nodded, and the image rippled again.

"Until then?" she asked.

"Yes", he answered in Shi'ar and she smiled. To Charles' surprise, Remy returned the smile. Already they seemed to share a bond, if a rather tenuous one.

Lilandra turned her attention to Charles. "Will you come as well?" she asked.

Charles nodded. "Of course."

The hologram began to fade as she raised her hand in farewell. Instinctively, Charles reached for her. Their fingertips passes through each other as the image faded to nothing. Charles let his hand fall. It was so easy to believe she was really there until she began to fade.

"Hurts not t' be able t' touch her, don' it?" Remy stared at his crossed ankles.

"Yes." That, at least, was something they had in common. Rogue's decision to take control of her powers didn't keep Remy from understanding exactly how he felt. Charles felt a ray of hope. It was a place to start.

A loud noise from outside the house prevented any further discussion. It sounded almost as if a small tornado had spontaneously errupted on the lawn. Charles checked the sky through the window, but that remained cheerfully blue. He traded glances with Remy.

"Stormy throwin' a temper tantrum?" Remy joked, but then Cerebro's alarms began to wail. Remy bolted to his feet.

Charles' com badge crackled. "Professor?"

"I'm here, Scott," he answered. "What is it?"

"I'm not--" He paused as the noise cut out. "Uh, we appear to have visitors, sir."

"What kind of visitors?" Charles had sudden visions of the brood decending on his house.

Scott's voice was studiously neutral. "The Witness is here, sir. With Forge."

Remy sagged back onto the desk, shaking his head.

Charles had to take a minute to gather himself. "Thank you," he told Scott faintly. Then he and Remy eyed each other in silence. It almost seemed as if they were drawing strength from each other to deal with this new event. As if neither one felt like he could face the Witness, and whatever new disaster he brought with him, alone.

If it weren't for the knot in his stomach, Charles might have smiled.

 

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