© K-Nice 1999
Maybe, On Some Other Day
The pounding of the horses hooves on the hard dirt track precluded any meaningful conversation, but Irene and Raven managed to communitcate. With subtle stares and quiet hand gestures, they made their picks from the young men and women who jockeyed their mounts around the center dias. The little cocktail table where the two woman and their guest sat shook with the fury of the passing race.
It was time for the yearly Power Derby. The mornings races where run, not with hired jockeys, but with the young sons and daughters of the most powerful families in the world. The winner's set an unoffical ranking among the contenders.
While winning was a coveted position, it was often dangerous, since those children sometimes had accidents befall them before the day was through. Their own daughter, Emily was in among the leaders, preparing to break from the pack. She was a stunning horsewoman, enough to make Raven wonder where she had been raised before she was left at their compound.
Emily's grandparents had brought her to the House of Lehnsherr several years before when they were converted to the teachings of Magneto. They had left to make a pilgramage to the Holy Land, rumored to be the last resting place of Magneto, somewhere in the middle of East Ocean. They had never returned and Raven and Irene had taken the child as their own. Watching her grow from pigtails to pageboys had been one of the few joys in Raven's life among the Mangusmonks. While Irene was a willing convert, Raven had reservations. She had known Erik, personally, after all. She saw the House of Lehnsherr and its Brotherhood as a means to an end--gaining power and influence. All that money coming in was nice too, since religion was the oldest scam in the book.
A slight shifting at her right caused Raven to turn to their companion. She exchanged a glance with Irene, but the woman had no mystic answer for the unspoken question. What was on Jean-Luc's mind? He had made a beeline for them as the race began, claiming their table was better for watching the races. Which was a lie, since he had a box seat, but then again, so did Sebastian Shaw.
Suddenly, the leaders appeared from around the corner. Raven spotted Emily making a push from around the outside, her red-brown hair streaking out behind her. But in one look, she could tell the girl would never make it.
At the head of the pack, Remington LeBeau was being edged to the inside by Shinobi Shaw. Shinobi's gelding was pressing forward hard, as if it knew this was the last lap, the last chance for glory. Remy's mare, on the other hand, appeared to the struggling. Shinobi's whip flew and the gelding pulled into the lead.
Raven spared a quick look at Jean-Luc LeBeau, expecting to read dissappointment, perhaps anger. Instead, there was an intense look of anticipation on that aristocratic facade. Irene sat up sharply and Raven turned to see what all the commotion was about.
Emily plowed right into Shinobi. It was a hard hit, which sent both riders forward and then backwards very quickly, nearly throwing them from their horses. Raven's heart caught in her throat at the sight of red on her daughter's cheek.
The horses recovered their balance quickly, but it was too late. Remy and his mare were suddenly a blur, rushing towards the finish as if they were one creature.
Jean-Luc remained in his seat, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face. "That boy certainly has a way with women. Excuse me, ladies. It appears I must make an appearence at the Winner's Circle. I'm sorry about your daughter. If she is feeling up to it, maybe you will join us for dinner?"
Raven would have spit nails if she wasn't so worried about Emily. His son had tricked Shinobi into blocking Emily, effectively putting his two competitors out of the running. It was devious, far too devious for a thirteen year old boy to think up on his own. At least any thirteen year old Raven was familiar with.
Irene graciously excepted the offer and the leader of the Thieves' Guild was gone.
Raven exploded. "The nerve of that man!" Then she said nothing more, helping Irene gather her skirts and striding toward the finish area in her own split riding skirt.
Emily was dismonting dejectedly. The red on her face was a cut from a whiplash and Irene had to grab Raven's arm to keep her from attacking Shinobi. The boy was being berated by his father Sebastian only a few feet away. He was rather small for a fifteen year old, but Raven chalked that up to his Asiatic heritage. His mother was from beyond the West Ocean and looked even farther away as she stood nearby and ignored her husband's tirade.
"Mother Raven, I'm sorry I failed. I have brought shame on the House of Lehnsherr and the name Darkholme." Emily kept her head down to hide her tears. Her mothers had campaigned mightly on her behalf. There where other children among the Mangusmonks that might make better riders, but they had insisted Emily be given a chance. Now, she had failed.
"None of that now, child. We must return to our rooms and prepare for dinner." Irene ushered them both back to the Guthrie Mansion to be primped and combed and powdered for the evening.
As they walked the halls to grand stairwell that would lead them to the dining area, Raven mulled over Irene's forewarnings. They were to keep Emily's mutant nature secret from Jean-Luc. After all of Sister MacTaggert's work, even several trips to York to consult Dr. Xavier, they were still unable to understand the girl's power. Xavier had been clear that she was not a pure psychic, and as such, he would not take her on as a student. It was cruel that the Brotherhood could train so many mutants, yet Raven's own daughter could not be helped.
If an alliance was to be made, it would be on equal terms. Raven would not make Emily a freak among mutants by revealing her to the Guild leader. If they could conceal the information long enough, Emily might even gain training after the fact, as the Guild was very swift to embrace its mutant members. They had resources even the Brotherhood did not.
Irene's cream gown was replicated on Raven, only in deep royal blue. Emily, though six years shy of her debut, wore a complimentary floor-length dress, smoothing out her rough, gangly edges. Her hair was carefully styled to hide the white streak that branded her as her mother's bastard child.
When they came down into the dining room, they were lead into a private chamber off to the side. It was more of a parlor. but there was an intimate table setting near the fire place.
Jean-Luc LeBeau and his youngest son, Remington, rose from their seats to greet their guests. Raven placed Emily at a seat next to Remy, getting an approving response from Jean-Luc. The girl and boy stared at each other then avoided eye contact with anyone through most of the meal.
The dinner was pleasant. The food was exquisite and the conversation intriguing. Jean-Luc was as charming as usual, though Raven sensed an uncharacteristic eagerness in his tone. When the meal was cleared away, and the children shooed into a corner, the real intrigue began.
"I was wondering Raven, Irene, what are your plans for young Emily?" Jean-Luc balanced his coffee cup on his knee watching the children play with an air of nonchalance.
Irene took up the thread. "Well, there is of course her schooling, which has been well taken care of by the Monks."
Raven interjected. "But she will spend some time in Plymouth with a dear friend of ours, Miss Danvers. She will be formally introduced to society there." Irene would have glared at Raven, had Jean-Luc not been watching their every move. Danvers taught at the prestigious Frost Academy, but she was really a spy, and almost everyone who worked the Dark Arts--spying, thieving and killing--knew it. Certainly Jean-Luc did. Raven was presenting a challenge, making it clear that girl would be more than a simpering trophy.
"Indeed." Jean-Luc could barely contain his surprise. Danvers introduced a dangerous variable into his plans. "Remy leaves in the fall for Briton. He is to complete his education under Lord Cassidy." He meant Thomas not Sean but they did not need to know that.
The conversation was interrupted by loud giggling. It seemed the two in question where getting along swimmingly.
Irene took the opportunity left open by the sudden silence. "However, we were looking to see dear Emily promised, to the right sort of family, before she got any silly ideas in her head, as girls are wont to do when they go off to strange new places."
"We might be able to make an arrangement."
Irene and Raven seemed to exhale all at once. Finally, they would have a firm answer to Farouk, who had taken a fancy to the child. Not to mention access to Guild's resources.
Jean-Luc also felt relief. He had planned this moment from the first time he set eyes on the boy, hiding under his mother's murdered body, which was still warm from it's descecration by Shaw's lackeys.
Maybe, on another day, he would have given Remy a choice. But the race had decided his fate for him.
He couldn't keep the grin off his face. Jean-Luc's hard effort was coming to fruitation. Control of the House of Lehnsherr was control of the Magnet-worshippers. Religion had great power, greater power then even Shaw's Inner Circle. Sebastian would finally be punished for daring to attack Crescent City.
He glanced at the children, who seemed to be talking, if the quiet, serious expressions on their faces where any indication. Things were definitely moving quickly between them.
Raven smiled at her daughter and her betrothed. They made a happy pair.
For a couple of pawns.