velvetfiction: (chocolate&magic)
Fandom: Lackey's Valdemar/X-Men crossover
Characters: Tarma, Keth, Warrl & Logan

The creature lay unmoving in the small clearing in the stand of trees. It was fortunate it was not winter, or Tarma would have worried about it (him?) freezing to death. But as it was late spring, predators - four legged and two - were the biggest concern.

"Changechild?" she quietly asked her partner.

"Hmm," Kethry replied, a frown marring her normally cheerful face. "I would say yes - there is something decidedly animalistic about this one - but there is no trace of magic at all."

"None at all? Strange, this close to the Peligars."

:None, Mindmate,: Warrl confirmed. :It is as if he has never been exposed to magic. At least not as we know it.:

The creature moaned, cutting off further discussion. With silent hand signals, Tarma sent Kethry and Warrl out of sight. Tarma leaned against a tree and waited for the creature to awaken.

The creature groaned again and half propped himself up on his elbows. "Ugh, did anyone catch the number of the truck that just ran me over?" he asked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

Tarma was mildly surprised that she could understand him, but replied in the same common trade tongue. "I know not of what you speak, stranger, but if you are in need of assistance, I shall provide what I can."

Faster than Tarma could believe, she found herself pinned against the tree by three wicked-looking daggers, one on either side of her neck, one just barely touching her throat. She blinked once, her only sign of surprise. Then in another heartbeat, Tarma's own dagger was at the stranger's throat.

"See, I can do that too," she said coldly. "Although mine are not attached. Tell me, do you find it to be a great advantage, having your daggers embedded into your hand?"

With a snort that Tarma suspected was a sign of amusement, the stranger stepped back, and she watched in fascination as the blades retreated into his hand and the cuts rapidly healed.

"Occasionally," he replied. "Sure beats having them out of reach when I need them. Does make them tough to throw, though."

The corner of Tarma's mouth twitched. "Shall we try introductions again, this time without the edged weaponry? I am Tarma shena Tale'sedrin, Swordsworn of the Warrior. Not that I expect that to mean anything to you."

"Huh. Name's Logan. And you're right, it doesn't mean anything to me. Why don't you ask the other two to come out here so we can all be properly introduced."

"I'm impressed, Mr. Logan," Kethry said, stepping back into the clearing. "Most people would not have detected our presence. I am called Kethry."

"'m not most people," Logan replied with a shrug, eying the mage with faint curiosity.

:No, you are not, warrior,: Warrl said, appearing at Tarma's side. :I am known as Warrl.:

To his credit, Logan seemed to be barely phased by the kyree. He merely gave Warrl a hard look and then muttered "Great, another damned telepath," mostly under his breath.

"I am impressed, sir," Tarma said with a chuckle. "Most people react to our strange little group much more than you have."

Logan gave her another long, considering stare. "One of my fr- someone I know is 6 feet tall, weighs 400 pounds and is covered in bright blue fur. Another can shoot lasers out of his eyes," he finally said in an off-hand manner. "My definition of 'weird' ain't what most peoples is." He paused and looked around. "So you wanna tell me where the hell 'here' is and how I got here?"

After a quick glance at Keth and a brief mind-touch with Warrl, Tarma smiled. "If you will come back to our camp with us, we will see about answering all of your questions. I suspect that for every one we answer, it will generate three more."

"Isn't that how it always works?" Logan asked sourly. "Lead on, then, warrior."
velvetfiction: (Default)
Fandom: X-Men (movie-verse)
Characters: Logan/Rogue
Warnings: Spoilers for X3, language
Written for [ profile] queenmidalah 's 2009 [ profile] fandom_stocking

"Shouldn't you be tellin' me to stay or something?"

The question hung in the air and Logan looked at the scared chocolate eyes in front of him.

"I ain't your father, darlin'." Dear lord, no he wasn't. "Just tell me you're doin' this for yourself and not for some boy." Drake. He wasn't blind, he'd seen the two kids dancing around each other. In a way, he was glad; she needed to get over him, be with someone her own age. Not a washed up, mean as hell cage fighter who was old enough to be her father. Or grandfather.

She dropped her eyes and refused to meet his again, telling him he had hit it spot on.

"Dammit, Marie," he growled and held out a hand to her. She flinched and for a moment he thought she was going to bolt. "C'mere, kid."

Hesitantly, she took his hand and he pulled her into a bear hug, ignoring the stares they were getting from the others passing through the entry-way. She stiffened in his arms, telling him just how infrequently anyone had hugged her since she had been in the school. Fuckin' hell. What the fuck did Scott think he was doing with this girl?

Rogue's face was safely buried in his shirt and the hitching breath and the growing wetness on his chest gave away her attempts to silence her tears. Logan gave a purely internal sigh. Crying females were not something he dealt with by choice. Hell, he usually ran away long before it got to that point. He didn't do this touchy-feely crap.

But this was his Marie and he couldn't let her make a life-altering decision without talking it through first. He was a bastard, but not that much of a bastard. Especially not when it came to Marie. It always came back to her, didn't it? His mind shied away from just how much his world had come to revolve around the girl (woman? Again, his mind skittered away from the implications) in his arms.

He sighed again, this time audibly. "Come with me," he said, and gently guided her by the shoulders towards the stairs and the safety (safe? For whom?) of his room.


velvetfiction: (Default)


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