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Chapter 5, “The Painful Mirage”

In a way, the moment was frozen like a Polaroid as they stood there in complete dumb-founded surprise at the sight of one another, those standing with and around them immovable as they remained outside of time.

However, in her mind all Ororo could see was images of Him”and herself”as their bodies merged together on the Desert, healing his pain; the first time they kissed; the beauty of the skies overhead as she watched the clouds, savoring the waves of arousal at each of his deep, powerful thrusts over, and over and over”

The numerous encounters melted together in her mind, causing her brain to hurt, as fast as her heart palpitated and her breathing became shallow. She shook her head in denial, but couldn’t tear her gaze from his, losing herself in the liquid depths of mercury. What Ororo saw in them frightened her to the core, not so much from their intensity…but rather because she saw in them her reflection:

Fiery.

Untamed.

Intense…

Dangerous.


Everything she had spent her entire life denying about herself.

As the spell was broken, the voices around them slowly caught up in time, and movement resumed normally. T’Challa and Charles both turned to her expectantly, and in the uncomfortable silence, Ororo was finally able to rend her gaze away from the beautiful creature before her, ignoring the ache in her chest as she did so.

Charles couldn’t help but feel the strong emotions and conflicting thoughts rolling off the woman, even though they were distorted heavily by electro-magnetic energy. His expression was schooled into neutrality, but much like Khaji’s his mind also was at work.

The Dora Milaje stood with a perfect view of the action, her expression mirroring Charles’ coolness, but her body language told a whole other story. Immediately she wondered what kind of man would dare to look at her Lord’s ‘wife’ in a such a way as the Westerner gazed at Ororo now, and more importantly: when would her Lady give the word to take his head off for it.

From his prospective, however, Logan wasn’t the least bit concerned with that. He was much too busy fighting the urge to swoop in and take the tall African beauty in his arms and show her how much he’d missed her.

As she struggled to regain her composure, turning to Charles to finally acknowledge him, Logan couldn’t take his eyes from her, feeling a pull like none he’d ever experienced. The Wolverine’s instincts threatened to take over, but Logan’s will power and rationale barely held It in check as his wolfish eyes took in the sight of her finally, really, physically before him.

The silken white locks that he could still remember pressing against his face were restricted from the wild flowing existence he was accustomed to, swept back from her angelic face neatly, gathered at the middle of her back with a gold and lapis hair clip. There were about five to seven thinly-braided coils that started from her temples and went the length of her hair. The low-placed tail of hair was delicately wound, indicating that it actually stopped far lower than her behind if turned loose.

A swan’s neck was captured by a modest dark bead necklace; her smooth brown body was swathed in the folds of a silk Sari that couldn’t hide the impressive curvature of her toned body. A bodice of the same color accentuated her bright eyes and countered the striking onyx tiara pressing her hair back.

Speechless, Logan immediately understood there was no need to adorn her with expensive jewelry or flashy clothes; ‘It’s hard to add on to perfection’.

As T’Challa & Charles delved deeper into their initial conversation, Ororo took the opportunity to escape, whispering to her fiancée quickly before fleeing. Khaji kept her eyes on Logan, who of course moved to follow the departing princess and when he did she bowed quickly to T’Challa, requesting to take her leave in lieu of following Ororo.

Of course the prince agreed, believing himself relatively ‘safe’ in the presence of the American Xavier & his “guard”. That left Logan having to baby-sit the dignitaries, and so frustrated he wanted to yell. Making a mental note, his eyes narrowed as he had to watch Ororo disappear into the crowd of people.


---


Her sandaled feet couldn’t carry her quickly enough in the opposite direction, and more than once Ororo mistakenly bumped into another guest, murmuring her apologies without even looking up. It wasn’t until her burning skin touched the cooler night air outside on one of many downstairs terraces that she would begin to feel a little more like the weight was being lifted from her chest.

Rushing to the alabaster guardrail, her slender fingers wound around it tightly as if to squeeze the very life from the inanimate object. Her body nearly doubled over as she caught her breath, close to hyperventilating. ‘I can’t believe this..! It”It’s impossible!!’

Despite her inward denials Ororo’s heart knew there was only truth in the strange man’s eyes and the reality of it all was going to drive her insane. Turning her face up to the night sky she exhaled sharply, whispering harshly, {By the Bright Lady…it cannot be him!}

{My Mistress?}

Still physically jarred, Ororo turned quickly in alarm, but only to see Khaji standing in the wide archway. With the concerned look the young woman was giving her, Ororo wasn’t sure if she should’ve been relieved or not.

{Khaji..! I-I’m sorry, but I need a moment alone, please.} She tried her best not to let her voice crack.

Stubborn as always, the Dora Milaje responded {Ororo, what is it? Tell me--}

“I said Leave Me!!” She hissed, the dark skies flickering only a split second before thunder rolled across the atmosphere. Her eyes narrowed in anguish as she turned to glare at Khaji over her shoulder.

The young woman paused in her tracks, able to feel the static electricity in the air around them. Hurt barely shown thru’ her expression but for an instant before she remembered her place and stood stiffly before bowing her head curtly. {As you wish…}

When she saw Khaji retreat without further protest, Ororo turned away, hanging her head; she hated to get cross with her but the girl sometimes needed to be reminded of her place. Their friendship and Khaji’s job sometimes maintained a strenuous relationship. Normally Ororo welcomed her companionship, but right then the last thing she needed was to have to explain what had just happened inside.

The soothing darkness of the crescent moon night took a little while to calm Ororo’s frayed nerves; she stood against the railing, still gripping it painfully, her fingers going numb and her hair partially obscuring view of her tortured face. She took several tense minutes to talk herself into going back inside.

‘And what will you tell T’Challa? He may not have sensed anything amiss”or perhaps he did??”either way, his obliviousness certainly won’t last long.’ She shook her head as the then-cryptic and now ironic advice of the Ivory Priestesses came back to haunt her. With a sour expression and a bitter taste in her mouth Ororo had to admit to herself that she’d been played.

Honestly, she could’ve gone the rest of her days believing that the strange encounters had been nothing more than the overactive imagination of a bride with cold feet (even if she knew deep down nothing could be farther from reality). Now, with the revelation that those said ‘encounters’ held more truth than fiction, what was she to make of it all now?

Her family’s agreement to The Alliance with T’Challa’s regime paled in comparison to her duty to the Ivory Priestesses. It was hard enough for Ororo to accept, let alone expect those outside of the Solo to grasp her dilemma. There was “duty”, and then there was destiny.


And of course, which would come now to call..?

Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes slid to the side but she seemingly refused to turn around; her back straightened considerably though; His sign that she’d sensed his presence.

Behind her, just inside the threshold, Logan stood watching her, his eyes glowing slightly with the play of moonlight off his silver irises. The Wolverine in him couldn’t begin to understand her conflicting actions and didn’t try; instead he’d rather rely on the instincts that he knew brought them together in the first place.

It seemed the power of his presence kept her rooted in place, her body stiff like a frightened animal. He cocked his head to the side as he crept up to her; it wasn’t the response he’d hoped for and his expression would’ve told her so, had she dared to look at him.

Ororo had her eyes closed, breathing shallowly as she mouthed a short prayer. She’d never had to work so hard at keeping her composure before; the growing over-cast night sky was evidence of that, as the bright moon was swallowed whole by thick clouds.

Logan stopped just behind her, so close he could easily feel her body heat, hear her shallow breaths and take delight in the familiar scent that was Her. He leaned into her back, not sure at all of what the hell he was doing, and very lightly touched her arms at the elbows as his lips brushed the soft curve of her ring-less ear.

“…Ororo?”

She nearly collapsed against him simply at the sound of her name on his lips. The Kenyan royal could not for the life of her understand her body’s reaction to this man”who, by all accounts she did not know, but who was no stranger to her soul. His touch came up her forearms a little, and he cradled her gently as if she were about to break.

As she finally turned her head to him, moving to hug herself as if cold, Logan wouldn’t allow her to sense his own anxiety, his mind reeling. He knew deep”deep, deep down”that what he was doing right then could conceivably cause an international incident. Did he really care?

Fuck no.

He reached up in front of her, their bodies brushing against one another just by mere chance and eliciting a visible current of electricity down the length of his arm as Logan turned her lips toward him more. As her head curved back, frightened but needy bright blue eyes were cast down, watching his mouth before looking up expectantly to his eyes.

Logan’s lids were low, his jaw set in a hard line as he seemed to be waiting for something. From her? From himself?

It was several seconds before he would make up his mind, inhaling quickly right before he’d reach in and capture her mouth”but Logan never got the chance.

A single, silent tear escaped her, melting down her soft cheek before dissipating into her skin. He watched it with a level of surprise, for she didn’t make a sound. When he didn’t go further, she finally looked back up at him, and it was then Logan realized what was wrong.

She wasn’t the same woman from the desert.


*Logan?* Charles’ voice echoed in his mind, jarring him so much Logan immediately stepped away from her, their contact broken.

‘Yeah?’ He looked at her back again, her body in the same position as he’d left it, but her face turned to an extreme angle back toward him though she restricted eye contact again, as if ashamed.

*Where are you? The dedication ceremony is going to commence in about 10 mins. if you’d like to join me.* The broadcast ended then, silence following.

Against his better judgment, Logan felt he could do nothing else but leave; his senses were warning him about her now for some reason he couldn’t explain, and he thought it best to heed them. He’d never had such a great sense of incompletion before, but as he met her eyes once more before turning away, knew that there was going to be another time to get his answers; he’d make sure of it…

Despite the tight pain in her chest at his departure, Ororo finally breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone again, her fist clenched against her face as she struggled to regain control. She couldn’t have realized how close she’d come to letting go.



Watching Ororo’s shaky disposition from a tall window on one of the floors above, Khaji kept a cool façade but her dark grey eyes crackled with anger. When she saw Ororo finally wipe at her face quickly before disappearing out of sight (presumably back inside), she turned from the window, heading to the nearest staircase and back toward the main ballroom.


---


“Ah! There you are.” Charles motioned to Logan as the other man approached. “If we hurry we can still take our seats.”

Logan was already shaking his head, however, his eyes bouncing all over the room before coming to rest at Charles again. “Ya know Chuck, I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel.”

The professor seemed a little disappointed, but nodded with a small smile. “Hm. Had all you can take, eh?”

‘Ya have no idea.’ “Yeah, something like that. I’ll see you later then. You’ll be fine?”

Xavier nodded, waving the other man off as Forge & Val walked up. “Don’t wait up.”

Logan scoffed a short laugh, nodding to the couple before quickly disappearing amidst the sea of guests. Charles kept his eye on him until he couldn’t make him out anymore. Val noticed the worried expression on his face.

“Is he alright, Charles?”

The telepath stroked his chin in thought, one brow higher than the other as he contemplated that question himself.



Halfway across the room, near the large doors to the amphitheater, T’Challa searched his small party worriedly for his fiancée, who he’d noticed had turned up missing for several minutes now.

{I’m sorry I’m late.} Came from behind him, and he turned to see her, smiling immediately.

Kissing her cheek, he gave Ororo a warm look, but it quickly turned to concern. {Are you not well?} then in a quieter tone, {Is it the crowds?}

She smiled softly at his concern although it made her guilt only that much harder to live with. {Perhaps. But I shall be fine. Let’s go, before they start without one of their keynote speakers.}

He chuckled at that, holding her by the waist lightly as they were shown through the hall. He caught sight of Khaji coming up behind them, and paused, giving her a questioning gaze that seemed to admonish her for leaving Ororo’s side.

The young Milaje’s eyes cut from her future king to his intended, then back to T’Challa with as much expression as a dead mackerel. Without a word she took her position behind and to the right of his shoulder and as the group progressed, dug daggers in Ororo’s back.

Oblivious to Khaji’s ire, Ororo took a deep breath, then turned to smile up at T’Challa, excepting his offered hand and squeezing it reassuringly. She was determined to put all offending thoughts of the stranger Logan out of her mind…well, at least until the ‘morrow. With the disastrous way things were shaping up, she thought The Bright Lady owed her that, at least.


---


After another fitfully sleepless night, Logan took extra long to roll his muscled carcass out of bed Saturday morning, going through his usual A.M. routine before joining Charles for breakfast. They couldn’t spend the leisurely morning they had the day before, as Charles was expected back at the Capitol building early that morning to meet with several Congressmen.

Logan slowly ate, not very hungry, as Xavier rushed around in his chair, preparing to go downstairs and meet the limo they’d sent for him. As the silence between them lengthened, Charles stopped in the archway to the dining room, fixing his tie and evaluating Logan quietly sitting at the table. He’d wanted to speak with the X-Man when he got back late the night before, but mistakenly thought Logan was asleep when he came to his private room.

There was something more obviously bothering Wolverine since their jaunt out yesterday, and he was curious to discover exactly what had happened when he’d disappeared for those crucial 15mins. “Logan?”

The man looked up as though startled, which puzzled Charles. “Pardon? Ya say somethin’ Chuck?”

Coming to rest at the other side of the table, Charles met Logan’s gaze, showing his concern. “I don’t want to press, Logan, but it’s obvious something is bothering you. I thought perhaps”“

“I’d wanna talk ‘bout it?” he finished for him, smiling a little tightly as he looked into his plate of sausage and eggs.

“It may help.”

Shaking his head a little hopelessly, Logan raised his gaze back to Charles with a sort of lopsided grin. The tired sadness behind his eyes was haunting, and almost made the professor reach to the phone to cancel his engagements for the day. Laying down his fork, Logan finally said, “…’preciate the offer, professor, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Sympathetically, Xavier replied, “Well, that’s better than ‘no’. When you are ready, you know I am here. If you would rather, I can post-pone…”

“No, don’t go doin’ that.” Logan waved his hand negatively, standing then and tossing the napkin that’d lain in his lap on the table. He was done feeling sorry for himself for one day. “I’ll be fine. I think I just need some air.”

Charles didn’t try to stop him, as Logan headed to the door. Suddenly the phone rang and Xavier wheeled over to the living room to answer it. It must’ve been the front desk alerting him to the limo waiting. “Thank you, I’ll be right down. Goodb”eh? One moment”Logan?!”

The door had almost closed before Charles could call out to him, but Wolverine heard him, poking his head back inside to give Xavier a questioning look.

The older man came to the doorway, watching Logan carefully. “It seems someone was looking for you. The front desk tried to call your room but of course you’ve been here, so they called me, since my name’s on the bill, I would guess.”

Logan’s expression matched Charles’ curious one. “They say who it was?”

“No, she didn’t leave a name. However, she did leave you a message at the front desk.”


---


Logan could barely wait until Charles had left, seeing the man down the elevator & to the limo waiting outside before turning quickly on his heels back into the lobby of the Four Seasons. He didn’t bother waiting in line, side-stepping the waiting guests to the corner of the wide desk. “ ‘Cuse me, I got a message waitin’ fer me; name’s Logan.”

The young woman closest to him was facing the back wall, on the telephone, and held up a hand to him as she finished her conversation. Logan was visually antsy, but she didn’t seem bothered, probably an expert at dealing with rude people. One of the other guests, who’d been waiting nearby, looked up, pissed.

“Hey buddy, the lines are over here.”

Logan’s feral gaze met the man, the side of his top lip curled as he leaned on his other leg, about to open his mouth and set the man straight.

“Sir, please, it’s alright. This station is for message reception and courtesy calls only.” The woman hung up the phone, unfazed as she addressed the other guests before stepping up to the counter where Logan was standing.

Nodding at her remark as if it settled things, Logan dismissed the man, turning back to the young woman. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem, sir. Now, is “Logan” the first or last name?”

“Neither. Just ‘Logan’.”

“…Alright. Which room and floor?”

“Presidential Suite B “ West Wing, 4th floor.”

She paused, going through the list on the LCD screen before her, scrolling down the dozens of names. “Ah, that’s right, I remember this one, from earlier this morning. Please initial the pad there before you; the person who left the message requested we notify her when you picked it up.”

Scrawling a jagged “L” on the signature pad beside him, Logan reached out then and took the pearl-colored envelope embossed with the Seasons’ stamp. Nodding quickly he thanked the desk clerk, heading back upstairs via the elevator.

By sheer luck he had a lift all to himself, and so extended one sharp bone claw, tearing the sealed envelope open. The Hotel stationary slid out easily, and he raised it to his face, deciphering the carefully penned but short message:

“Please meet me in the Northeast corner of the garden courtyard @ 10a.m.”


There wasn’t even a signature, but something told him she knew he wouldn’t need one. Lifting the stationary to his nose, Logan took one good whiff, and it was all he needed to confirm the message’s scribe. His heart beat just a little faster for a moment, and as he stepped out of the lift onto the 4th floor, he shoved the paper back into the envelope. The last thing he’d expected was for her to actually contact him. He’d geared himself up for a tough time of trying to track her down & get past her guards, but it was a task he would have been resigned to since their uncomfortable meeting the night before.

Now that all seemed unnecessary, as she had somehow tracked him down. Closing the door to his suite behind him, Logan glanced at the clock on the wall: 9:36 A.M.

Nodding to himself, the X-Man found just enough to do to waste another 10 minutes or so”mostly just pacing the floor of his large bedroom, thinking about what he was going to say to her. He had so many questions; not the least of which was who was the woman from his dreams, from the desert, and what had this Ororo done with her?



9:58 A.M…
Downstairs in the courtyard, she had been pacing for the past several minutes, fidgeting like a patient about to get the worst news possible from her doctor. Dressed ‘down’ in dark slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt with her hair braided in one long thick cord down her back, Ororo fought the urge to just leave more than once.

She had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it. A pull to her soul was the only way she could explain it, but that sort of explanation wouldn’t have done for T’Challa. ‘Yes Dear, I’m going to meet my True soul mate. Have a good day!’

With a scoff of laughter to herself, she shook her head, thinking”not for the first time”that she’d gone completely crazy. But deep down she knew that she’d have to figure out who this man Logan was. Her restless, nearly sleepless night the night before assured her that if she didn’t things could be rough from here on out. Well, more so than they were already.

‘You just need to speak to him, just to make sure. The Priestesses can’t mean this man…they simply can’t.’ She shook her head in agreement, as if merely thinking Logan out of her life would seal the deal. ‘It should have been T’Challa…A respectable man, a good man…’

‘A “safe” man?’ Another part of her mind questioned bitterly. Someone exactly like her, to keep her more…uncontrollable side in check?

Ororo grew uncomfortable again, thinking about the part of herself that liked it when she & Logan had been together the night before. She had been a moth to his flame, and each heart-pounding moment she felt him near was a moment of ultimate guilt. She had been promised to T’Challa, for the sake of her people”she had long since accepted that”and in her heart she wanted to disappoint him no more than she wanted to except the inevitable that the Desert Rose had chosen for her.

“I got yer message.”

She jumped a little, so deep in thought she hadn’t realized he was standing behind her. Looking at her small wristwatch Ororo saw that it was actually several minutes after 10; she wondered if Logan had been late, or if he’d been standing there watching her the whole time?

Flustered just a bit, she needlessly smoothed her hands down her pants, standing just a little straighter as she steeled herself against his unknowing (and unintentional) psychological assault. With an annoyance that she shouldn’t have felt, she replied, “Yes, well I should not have had to leave one, if you had been in your room when I came earlier.”

Logan was brought up short by her curt answer and stopped his forward progression up to her. “I was having breakfast.”

She bristled even further at his tight comeback, folding her arms snugly and narrowing her eyes. She found it much easier to simply dislike the Westerner than try to figure out her unnatural attraction to him. “No matter. That is not my concern.”

Chuckling with absolutely no humor in his voice, Logan raised a hand to stop her. “Is this why you contacted me?”

She bit her lip, eyeing him with distrust. Yes, it was definitely easier just to hate him. “No…I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance, though,” she stopped him from taking a step closer, “now, as well as in the future.”

He brought his brow up farther than it had ever traveled, he assumed, watching this cold-as-ice witch. Mimicking her posture in crossing his arms, he spat back, “Why? Better dreams than yer reality, darlin?”

Her face flushed at his comment, and before she realized she was moving Ororo had crossed the distance between them, her palm exposed. He didn’t even bother to move until he could feel the air shift toward his face with the intended slap, then snatched her wrist, holding it firmly but not enough to hurt her.

Ororo immediately yanked hard to reclaim her appendage, her hand now balled into a fist, but it was no use as Logan kept a good grip on her. Their eyes met, fire meeting fire, but for a slightly different reason than usual.

He seemed calm on the outside as he stared her down. “Look, I didn’t come down here to get on yer bad side. I just wanna know what the hell you did to me.”

“ ‘What I”‘?? Please release me, I have no idea what you mean.” She punctuated that comment with another futile yank.

Logan wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily, and instead of complying with her request, took a dangerous step closer. “I think ya do. Everytime you look at me, it reminds you, too.”

Her other hand came up, but of course he was expecting it at some point, and easily deflected the blow, capturing that wrist as well, holding her hands to his chest and drawing her as close as her body would come without fully touching his.

“Let. Me. Go.” She hissed, oddly enough drawing strength to dislike him from the fire his closeness erupted in her veins.

Logan wasn’t fooled for an instant, and his eyes told her so even though he loosened his hold on her enough that she could successfully pull her arms away. Ororo turned from him, seething, wondering how anyone could put up with such a man. “Understand…I came here only to tell you that whatever happened…before…It won’t again. I swear it.”

“You haven’t even told me what “It” is, lady. All I know is what happened was real, you felt it and so did I. Can’t fer the life of me understand why ya denying what we both know.” He watched her stubbornly.

She sneered. “And what is that?”

“There’s a connection between us, Ororo. I can’t explain it, I didn’t ask for it, and that’s why I came here today. Fer answers…”

She rolled her eyes, her back still to him, unable to get over just how unfair she thought this whole sordid thing was. He wasn’t finished, though:

“…and, t’say thank you.”

She was brought up short by that, confused at his quick reversal cloaked in a softer tone and a sincere look. Turning half way to look back at him she couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

Logan cautiously took two steps as he said, “You saved my life. Trust me, darlin’ I can’t say that to too many folks, either. If it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve died out there alone in that desert.”

Ororo’s heart softened”just a bit”at the almost tender way he expressed himself, watching her carefully as if he hadn’t wanted to admit it to her. The mention of their first encounter brought back the haunting memories for her as well; she could remember the feeling of sadness, loneliness and yes even fear that came from him when she joined them, healing his broken body and breathing new life into his soul.

With a tortured look she shook her head, suddenly tired, and asked “Why you?”

He could tell she may not have been speaking to him so much as at him, but it was better than her attitude a few moments before. Logan crept up to her, turning her body to face him. She avoided his eyes with a defeated look on her face. Lifting her chin, he replied, “Come home with me and we might just find out.”




TBC…





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