Title: Across Time
Author: Angel LeeAnn
Category: Romance, Angst, Drama, and Past Lives
Summary: They were destined to love each other through time, but always torn apart by fate. Or, in other words, what if Logan and Rogue had past lives?
Disclaimer: Anything X-men related belongs entirely to me! I'm running away with them! sigh Ok, ok, they're not mine. They belong to Marvel.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Any resemblance to another story is purely coincidental. Also, there are symbolisms throughout the story. So, if you make a connection between the past and the present then, you're probably correct in your assumptions. And remember, these are past lives so just because I may write a character a certain way doesn't mean I think that's the way they act in the movie-verse.
~ ~ ~ PART ONE: 1347 ~ ~ ~
Marian = Marie
Lord Le Châtelier = Logan
In order of appearance:
Mary = Ororo
Lady Jane = Jean
Orth = Bobby
Henry = Scott
Lord vom Metall = Eric
As she scurried through the village – mud encrusting her black boots and spraying her dull red dress – Marian tried ignoring the lustful stares and jeers of the unruly men perched outside their huts drinking rum. Marian clutched the parcel in her slender, calloused hands and held it tightly against her chest, fearing someone would snatch it. She'd had things stolen from her before: precious possessions that could never be replaced. Yet, it was most painful to remember the wheat fields on the outskirts of town, so she locked away the memory with all the other nightmares of her past.
She came to a vast field and ran across it; too pressed on time in order to savor the brilliant display of wildflowers. When she reached the lavish orchids, she had to slow and take deep breaths, calming her racing heart before hastily making her way passed the gardens and up the cobblestone walkway leading to the back door of the castle. She burst inside, her nose instantly assaulted with the sweet aroma of Mary's apple pies.
"Blessed Lord, child," the salt-and-peppered haired cook exclaimed. "Look at yerself! Ye better wash up before Lady Jane sees ye."
"Tis her fault," Marian defended, prying off her shoes and sitting them by the fire pit. "She sent me – not an hour before Lord Le Châtelier's arrival – to the market to purchase a brooch: a bloody brooch, Mary! Does she not have more than enough ornaments? The woman is vain and…"
"Bite ye tongue, child," Mary scolded. "Lady Jane has treated us well and saved us from becoming the guards' pleasantries. Ye'd've been forced to lie with a man by now if it weren't for Lady Jane." The aging woman turned her back on the girl, continuing to prepare supper. She missed the ashen look befall Marian's face.
How little you know, Marian thought, slipping out of the kitchen. She snuck up to her tiny servant's quarters in the attic. After changing, she hurried to the master bedroom and knocked politely. "Lady Jane, ma'am, tis Marian."
The soft sound of rustling cloth was followed by the gentle swinging of the door as it opened. The raven curls of the Lady's hair were piled intricately a top her head adorned with strings of sterling silver chains. Jane wore a violet silk dress that heightened her bosom and protruded her stomach. She smelled of the finest perfume imported from India; and a blanket of powder covered her usually tan complexion. Her lips were ruby red, begging for the attention of a wealthy suitor.
All in all, she was a woman of the latest fashion.
"Thank you, Marian," Jane spoke elegantly, taking the pearl brooch from her. "Lord Le Châtelier shall be here any moment. When his Lordship arrives, tend to him in his guest chambers."
Marian bowed her head. "Yes, m'Lady."
She made a swift escape from the room and fled back down the narrow space of the tower's long, winding staircase, her shoes echoing against the stone. One of the guards met her along the way, frantic and out of breath.
"He is here," he wheezed. "The Henry, the stable master, is tying up his horse as we speak."
Marian suppressed a groan and raced down the steps behind the guard. "How did he seem, Orth?"
"Well and courteous, my fair maiden."
It was a quiet joke between the guard and the chamber maiden. For only Marian knew the truth. Orth often bragged about taking women into his bed, but it was untrue. He had only bedded one woman: a whore from Asia who had visited their village. Since then, he had refrained from having intercourse for he had discovered that he found the feminine sex repulsive. He preferred masculinity: men.
"Enough toying, Orth. We do not have time for games."
Marian made her way to the foyer where the Lord was waiting patiently beside a collection of his traveling men. Marian bowed. "Welcome, Lord Le Châtelier. Lady Jane has requested I take you to your quarters."
He returned her greeting with a soft smile, his haunting amberish-hazel eyes gazing warmly at her instead of straight through her. It wasn't uncommon for the wealthy to not notice her so it shocked her when his intense orbs of chocolate swirled with golden emeralds locked with her forest greens. "I…," she glanced away, suddenly feeling faint. "I shall show you to your chambers, Lord Le Châtelier."
He gave a slight, courteous nod, opting to remain silent as he followed her.
Marian stepped into a sparsely decorated room and gestured towards the canopy. "The sheets are washed once a week, my Lord. Every Saturday so that they are fresh cometh the Sabbath." She shuffled over to the far corner where a large tub sat. "Water will be boiled for baths every Sunday morning. However, you may bathe daily with cold water from the well."
He listened intently as she went about explaining the rest of the household's routines. When she had finished, he beaconed her to him. "Your name, maiden?"
"Marian, your Lordship. I shall be your servant during your stay."
"Mmm." He glanced around the stoned walls, admiring the fine tapestries. He settled his focus back on her and nodded. "Marian, I am weary from my long journey. Will you excuse me so that I may retire for an hour or so?"
Marian was floored by his politeness. She had become so accustomed to being pushed around and treated like dirt on the bottom of Lords' boots that she was unsure of the proper response. "Um…my Lord, Lady Jane was desiring to meet you right away. I…" she peered down at her worn shoes and murmured: "I shall leave you in peace, my Lord. But Lady Jane may ask me to bring you down for supper."
He nodded again, grunting another 'mmm'. "Never mind, then. I would not want to see punishment befall you. I shall be ready whenever Lady Jane wishes to dine. Until then, would you excuse me?"
Marian lowered her head. "Yes, my Lord. When shall I return?"
"When Lady Jane wants me fetched."
A hidden tone of amusement in his voice caused Marian to hesitate. Did he find being summoned by a Lady like a dog being called to his master?
Her interest in the Lord increasing, Marian made her leave.
END CHAPTER ONE
Well? I've never done past lives before. What do you think?