”Rogue! Father used a small fortune to the new guard!”
“I don’t care how much he squandered! I didn’t ask for it, and I sure as hell don’t need it!”
“Don’t need it? It’s the top model, the best there is! You need the protection, even more now!”
“I already have all the protection I need, Scott!”
“Right. Wolverine? You really think it’s going…”
“It? He, Scott! He!”
“I knew we should have done this years ago. Why father waited this long when you obviously have developed feelings towards it…”
“Get out! Get out of here before I do something we both regret!”

She waited until her brother had gotten out of the room before she slumped on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Shadow in the corner of her room moved hesitantly. Leather creaked, metal rasped sharply against metal when plates of the armor shifted.
“Marie?” Gruff voice came from the darkness.
“It’s… It’s nothing. Scott was just being stupid. I… I’ll go and see my father in the morning… Thank him for the present and tell him to return it to the shop…” She stammered, trying to keep her voice in level.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t need some stupid droid when I got you. But it’s late. I’m going to sleep now. Good night, Logan.”
“Good night, Marie.”

She crawled under covers and closed her eyes, curling on her side. She could hear soft footsteps. Armor creaking. Small huff as her guardian blew out the candle and her room plummeted in to darkness. She could hear him shuffling around in darkness, making sure the doors were locked, then going to the balcony and opening the door to there to let the crisp and cool night wind in. She heard him sitting in the doorway, metal plates of his armor scraping silently against the doorjamb. Exactly like every night for the past fifteen years. She tuned on her other side, arranging her pillows and blankets so that she could watch him sitting there without him noticing her watching, exactly like every night for the past fifteen years.

Moon cast a silvery glow over his features. He was sitting on the floor, heavy sword resting on his knees, leaning against the doorjamb. His gaze was constantly combing the backyard for possible intruders, but he stayed still and silent. Casual observer would have probably mistaken him as an oddly placed statue.

His muscled arms rested on top of the sword, now heavy and lax, but she had seen him in action often enough to know that from the first sign of threat that almost cat-like laziness and relaxed body would turn to lethal, rock hard instrument of death.

She let her eyes roam over him, thinking she should spend some of her allowance for a new armor for him. The one he wore now was well used, scraped and dented from places, lost all of it’s shine, and truth to be told it looked like it wasn’t sitting on him that well anymore. He had taken too many blows, and the metal had bent to odd shapes. She should take him to the blacksmith first thing tomorrow.

She wasn’t actually thinking anything; just letting her gaze rest on him, so it took her a while to realize that he was staring back at her.
“Can’t sleep?” He asked.
“I’m almost sleeping… I was just thinking…”
“About what your brother said?” He asked.
“No. No use to mull it over any longer. I was thinking we should go to blacksmith tomorrow… Get you a new armor…”
“Uh… It’s not my place to speak, but… You should think about what Scott said, Marie.”
“You’re right. It’s not your place to speak. Scott was wrong.”
“I have seen some of those new droids. They’re good. Efficient.”
“Would a droid look after me? Would a droid make sure I was comfortable? Would a droid sit there talking with me?” She asked.
“Would if it was programmed to do that. But you don’t need another maid; you have those more than enough. Rebels… They’re getting more clever.”
“I’m not afraid. As long as you’re with me, I have no reason to be afraid…”
“Your father doesn’t see it that way.”
“Tomorrow I will make him see things my way.”

“I came to talk with you, father.” She approached the throne regally, back straight and head held high, even when her stomach felt like it was trying to sink to the floor and was pulling her down with it. No matter how often she visited her father in the throne room, magnificent surroundings made her feel insignificant and small.
“Yes. I was expecting you. Your brother came to see me last night.”
“I don’t know what Scott told you, but…”
“The new droid was a present from Robert. I think him and his family would be much more lenient towards your union if you’d…” Her father started. Crippled old man, sitting on a throne, heavy crown covering his bald head. Keeper of the knowledge, and ruler of the world, but for how long?
“If Robert wanted to give me a gift, why didn’t he send me a new horse? Or jewels? He knows that I’m more than well protected…”
“Where is your guardian now?” Her father asked.
“I sent him to blacksmith. He’ll return as soon as he’s ready.”
“I have reason to believe that Wolverine and his impact on you made Robert choose more unconventional gift.”
“His impact on me? Father, I don’t understand…”
“Robert was less than pleased when he realized that your guardian spends his nights in your room.”
“But… How else is he supposed to look after me? What if somebody comes in through the window while I sleep?”
“That was exactly why Robert send the droid to you. It’s perfectly trained to function as a guardian, and it has been programmed keeping in mind that it will be spending all of its time with close quarters with you.”
“But… Log… Wolverine already does that. I don’t need another guardian, Father.”
“Robert doesn’t want Wolverine anywhere near you. He wants his bride to stay pure for the wedding night.”
“What?”
“Robert thinks…”
“I don’t care what he thinks! That’s… That’s just disgusting!”
“What about what I’m thinking, Rogue?”
“Father…”

It was hard to keep her tears at bay any longer. She could feel the nausea churning in her stomach, hear her father’s words as he accused her, accused her guardian for something unspeakable.

She left the throne room with numb legs, brushing past Scott who waited at the outside, hurrying towards her room before he said anything.
“Rogue!” she could hear Scott calling her, but she didn’t have the strength to turn and look. All her willpower went to staying up on her feet and pushing forward.

She grasped the door handle, found it too heavy and slumped against the door. Pair of strong hands grasped her, pushed the door open and carried her in, laying her on the bed where she curled and cried.

She could hear Logan shuffling around. Water poured from carafe to a glass. Mattress dipped slightly. Logan was helping her to sit up and held the glass for her.
“What happened? Are you alright? Should I send for a medic?” He asked. She took the glass he was offering and drank deeply, then shook her head.
“No… I’m not sick. It’s just something my father said. And Robert. They’re…” She couldn’t bring herself to speak out loud the hideous accusations.
“Robert? Is he here already?” Logan asked.
“No. But it was him who sent the droid for me. And I don’t want it… I don’t…” The glass fell from her fingers. Logan caught it before the water got spilled on her bed and placed it on to the table.
“Hush, little one…” He gathered her close, wrapping her inside of his arms and cape, letting her settle comfortably against the cold chest plate of his armor. Cool metal warmed quickly under her cheek, and she clutched the brims of the plate desperately. Within a week she was getting married, and her coming husband hated the man that was her only protection, only sanctuary in the whole world.

He held her long after her sobs had subsidized and turned in to even, light breathing. She had fallen asleep. Small and fragile, scared to the bone, clinging on to him even in deep sleep. He lowered her carefully on the bed, untangling her fingers from his armor before straightening his back.

He went on to the task of making her more comfortable, loosening the strings that bound her gown, opening her collar and removing her tiara before taking a blanket and spreading it over her. So small. Tiny. And already deep in the politics, a thing her father used in bargaining.

He checked the windows and doors of her room, found them locked and barred and nodded satisfied. Then turned away from her reluctantly, taking a step towards the door. He was going to do something he hadn’t done once during the whole fifteen years he had been guarding her.

He walked out from the door, locking it behind him, leaving her sleeping unprotected.

He found his way to the throne room, having visited there several times escorting Marie. Xavier was sitting on his throne, and he could tell from the scent floating in the air that he had just missed Scott leaving.

“Wolverine. This is quite a surprise. Where is my daughter?” Xavier asked.
“Sleeping. She was quite upset.”
“I’d imagine so. The message Robert asked me to deliver to her was far from pleasant…” Xavier muttered.
“Permission to speak freely?” Logan asked. Xavier huffed.
“You don’t have to ask, Wolverine. You have been guarding my daughter with your life for the past fifteen years. I’d like to think that would have granted you the privilege to talk to me as a free man.”
“Send the droid back to Robert. Rogue doesn’t want it. And if you are worried about… If you think that you can’t trust me no longer, let her choose the droid of her liking from the blacksmith by herself. She might be more open-minded if…”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. Neither is Robert. But we’re both concerned about Rogue. You have become very close with her. I have allowed that to happen, because I foolishly thought that she saw you just as her protector. When Robert was here a year ago he confronted me about the situation. He was very uncomfortable after witnessing her interactions with you. They’re far from what they should be. She’s treating you almost as if you were her…”
“Don’t. I don’t know what Robert has seen or what he has thought of it, but he’s wrong.”
“I have seen in to my daughters mind and heart. As much as I would love to tell Robert how wrong he is, I’m afraid it’s quite impossible. My daughter loves you.”
“I have guarded her for years! It’s no wonder she sees me as her surrogate father…”
“She doesn’t love you like a daughter loves her father. She loves you as a woman loves a man.”
“No. You have misunderstood… She doesn’t… I haven’t done anything to…”
“I know you have only been performing your duties. And I have seen in to your heart as well. Your mind is still a mystery to me, but your heart… Only reason I’m willing to negotiate with you in this matter is the absence of lust in you. I know you love my daughter, but you harbor no intentions to act upon that love. You’re entitled to your feelings, as long as they don’t get in the way of your duties. And your duty is to protect the interest of the kingdom. Right now the best way to achieve that goal is to keep her happy and have her union with Robert happen. As for what comes in to the droid Robert sent her, I’ll send it back, on one condition. She is to go and find herself a new droid before the unification ceremony.”

He returned to her room, his mind a whirlwind of questions and puzzlement. He would never ask her those questions. He didn’t have to. Xavier knew very well the state of the things. He was the one man who was able to see the entire truth behind matters, were they politics, everyday happenings or dealings of the heart.

He sat in to the corner to wait for her waking up. He’d have to talk with her. Tell her about his talk with her father. She’d be furious. She’d rant and rave, but if he played his cards right he could probably make her see that it was in everybody’s best interest if she let him go and took a droid in his place like Robert had been wishing.

He tried to keep his eyes averted, but his gaze drifted to the girl sleeping on the bed on it’s own volition. She was beautiful. Long, brown tresses framed her face and fell low over her back. Her eyes were closed, but he knew there was warmth and compassion in those brown orbs, sadness, joy and anger, passion…

She moved in her sleep, curling on her side under the blanket, bringing the arc of her waist and hip to his view. Her small fists drawn under her chin, legs slightly splayed and knees bent to keep her from falling on her stomach. Full body of a woman, but the creature housing it was a child still in so many ways. Sudden stab of anger and jealousy sliced through him. At the end of the week, during the first full moon of the month that innocence would be replaced with knowledge and responsibilities of a wife and secondary ruler of the United Kingdoms.

He tore his eyes from the pixie on the bed and drew his sword from the sheath, letting his gaze roam over the gleaming, slightly dented blade. The weapon had served him well. Through numerous skirmishes and years, leather of the handle worn smooth and darkened from sweat and blood, hardened and shining almost as if it was onyx instead of simple cow-skin strap wrapped around iron stud.

The sword was a necessary evil. He was skilled at using it, but he would have preferred his hands, and six bone appendages that lay dormant inside of his forearms. They were even sharper than the sword, but they were fragile. Too fragile to cut through metal armor. He had used them only once. The first night he had been guarding the sleeping baby. Sitting in the same corner as now, sword drawn and resting on his knees. A maid had come in and walked to the sleeping baby. A maid he had never seen before. But he had been in the castle only few days. He had been certain there had to be lots of people he hadn’t met yet.

He still didn’t know what had made him to stand up and discard his sword to the floor. What had made him sneak closer when the maid was leaning in to the crib and cooing to the baby that had obviously woken up. His one hand had reached past the maid and grasped a hand that had been holding a knife. His other hand had pressed against the woman’s lower back and claws had torn forth, puncturing flesh and soft organs.

He had turned the dying maid to the side fast to prevent the blood guzzling from her mouth to soil the crib and the baby, held the twitching woman and sheathed his claws when he had been sure that she was dead.

He sheathed the sword and put the scabbard to the side. Raised his right hand. Muscles and tendons twitched and jumped. Sound of tearing skin and flesh, and three ivory claws shot out from their housings from between his knuckles, gleaming wetly in the sun. The pain from their violent birth dulled soon, leaving his palms only feeling somehow swollen and stretched. His eyes narrowed, and his gaze locked to a small speckle of blood clinging to the sharp tip of the middle claw. Urge and longing to smell the scent of Robert’s blood instead of his own froze his mind, and he was still sitting there, staring at that already dried speckle of coppery blood when Marie woke up.

She woke up, her body numb and mind fuzzy from sleeping through the better part of a day, hunger gnawing at the pit of her stomach instead of earlier dread and nausea. Logan was sitting in the corner, staring at his claws. Something about his rigid posture made her feel uneasy. Something about in the way his gaze slid slowly over the bone appendages, crept over the floor and locked on to her made her draw the blanket tighter around her.

“I spoke with your father.” Words were casual, but the tone made her cringe.
“Yes?”
“They both, him and Robert, are worried over your virtue. I made a deal with your father.”
“Logan…”
“No. I made a deal with your father. He will send the droid back to Robert, but in return you have to go and pick a new one from the blacksmith before the unification ceremony.”
“Logan, I…”
“Stop calling me that. My name is Wolverine. You’re going to get up and get dressed, something modest, but regal. We’re going to go to dining hall and you’re going to eat. Then we’re going to go to the blacksmith, and I’ll help you choose the best droid there is.”

He had never used that professional, commanding tone to her. Oh, he had been bossing around maids, castle guards, kitchen staff, people at the stables, but never her. And Wolverine? He had been Logan for her for her whole remembered life. Just as she had been Marie for him. Just two ordinary people without the need or the hassle of formalities or court gestures.

She dressed up quickly, expecting him to call a maid to her aid, but he simply turned her around and laced her corset and dress by himself, pulling the strings maybe a tad bit too tight, but she wasn’t going to complain. He was obviously agitated and in a hurry. And he was never like that with her. Something was going on.

“Hey! Aren’t you forgetting something?” Logan called her when she reached for the doorknob. When she turned he pressed the tiara on her head, making sure it sat straight and wasn’t obscured by her hair.
“Now we are ready.”

When they walked out Logan resumed a position from her right, leaving few steps between them instead of walking beside her like he usually did. Like a good little doggy, ready to bounce from any sign of threat, yet showing his lower position on the hierarchy compared to her.

She shrugged it off. If he wanted to play, she’d let him. She’d let him go through the mockery, carry it on until the night fell. She had already decided that she wouldn’t be approving any of the offered droids. The whole thought, this whole charade was just ridiculous. She’d talk with Robert as soon as he arrived for the unification ceremony. She’d make him see that Logan was the best there was, and how little sense there was to try and cut him loose.

She sat at the table and Logan took his usual spot from behind her chair, his sword drawn, tip of it braced against the floor and his large palms resting over the hilt. She could hear him muttering something under his breath when Scott walked in and took his spot from the table, sitting opposite her. The droid guarding him rolled behind his chair, almost tripped over because there was a small lump in the carpet, then hissed silently and arranged both of its massive arms to the backrest of Scott’s chair, high-powered lasers mounted on its shoulders buzzing with low frequency. She grimaced. Even thought of something that clumsy and noisy following her around everywhere she went made her nervous and uncomfortable.

Food came, and as soon as Logan told her it was edible she dug in. She’d need all the energy she could get, because she’d have to convince only not just her father and Robert, she’d have to use all her skills to make Logan to see as well what and idiotic idea it was to replace him with a machine.

Dinner was a silent happening. No noise aside from utensils scraping against the porcelain and feather-light steps of the servants ruptured the almost magical cloak of calm that rested over the hall. It was a long-time tradition to not to speak during the dinner, probably born out of some stupid dispute centuries ago.

Today she felt a little rebellious. She was planning to go against the great schematics of her life that her husband to be and her father had crafted anyway, so she could as well start now. She cleared her throat and stood up, motioning back the servant that rushed forth to take her half eaten meal.

“I would like to make an announcement!” She spoke with stern voice, startling servants, as well as her father and brother. She could feel silent rage radiating from Logan, but she ignored it.
“I’m going to have the unification ceremony to be moved forward with one month.”

Silent, yet distinctive ‘fuck’ whispered behind her told her exactly what Logan was thinking about her decision. Her brother stood up abruptly, startling the droid guarding him momentarily.
“Rogue!”

Only one in the room that appeared to be completely unfazed was her father. He sat on his chair, chewed thoughtfully and flushed his mouth with a sip of wine before dabbling his lips with handkerchief.
“Scott. Sit down and finish your meal.”
“But father…”
“Sit down and finish your meal, son. And Rogue… We’ll discuss about this later today. You better have some good, solid arguments to present for me, because moving the ceremony under current situation is… Is difficult.”

She turned from the table, her knees shaking, but not out of fear. Out of relief. Father had agreed to discuss with her instead of shooing her away. She heard Logan shifting, sheathing the sword and falling to step behind her. She feigned faltering and he was at her side, offering his arm for her support. She didn’t turn to look, but she could feel both Scott and her father staring at them. She straightened her back and raised her chin, squeezing Logan’s arm and prevented him from returning to his lawful place, practically forcing him to escort her out from the room like a man instead of doing it like a servant.

He grabbed her as soon as he was sure that they were alone in the hallway, demanding an explanation.
“What the hell was that for?” He asked, shaking her from her shoulders.
“Get your paws off from me, Wolverine!” She hissed. He slinked back, releasing her, rage replaced by simmering anger and confusion.
“What the hell are you playing at? We’re going to get you a droid so that your father and Robert can sleep well, knowing that you’re not screwing with your guardian, and a week from now you’ll be united with Robert!”
“We are not replacing you! I don’t fucking care what my father or Robert thinks! I don’t want a pile of bolts and wires, I don’t need it! I already have you, and you’re more than enough to keep me safe!”
“There are more bigger issues at stake than your childish crush! Your father isn’t getting any younger! His enemies aren’t getting any easier to repel! This kingdom needs allies! Your brother can’t take the throne before you are united with Robert, and he has made it clear that my presence in your life, at your side is no longer wanted! You’re getting a droid, and having the ceremony with Robert by the end of this week! Is that clear?”

He hated himself from the moment he opened his mouth, but he had to get through to her somehow. She was too naïve to see the matter at hand for what it really was, too childish to understand what being a princess really meant. When her head sunk he wanted to take back his words, started to reach for her chin, when she suddenly turned to look at him, her cheeks burning bright red, cold gleam in her eyes.

“Childish crush? Don’t flatter yourself. I have certain standards, and you fail to fulfill them. You’re nothing but a reliable piece of machinery. I have been reluctant to part from you, but maybe we really should go and see what the blacksmith has to offer. I’m sure none of the droids he sells are so eager to run their mouth when it would be in their best interest to shut up…”
“Good. Are you ready to go? Should I call the carriage?” He asked, gritting his teeth, trying not to show how much her words had hurt him. In a perverse way he was more proud of her at the moment than he had ever been before.
“Forget the carriage. I’d rather walk. It’s a nice day, and I need some fresh air after all this commotion.”

He settled in front of her to clear the way, trusting the guards that had fallen behind them to take care of threats directed towards her long enough for him to get her to safety. He kept his gaze in the crowd, scanning possible rebels, and his ears tuned to her, her soft footsteps that stopped from time to time when she strayed from the path he had made to admire this or that trinket or scarf.

Sudden gasp made him stop and turn to look at her. She had stopped in front of a tent, staring at her face from the mirror hanging from one of the support beams.
“What is it?” He asked, returning to her, worried that something had happened. She was standing in front of the mirror, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, and he could see naked, honest fear shining from her eyes.
“The ceremony… What if… What if I turn to something really hideous? Something that Robert can’t bare to look at, let alone touch without revulsion?” She uttered, her hand rising to her cheek, fingers skimming over delicately arching bone and skin.
“You won’t.”
“But my mother… She turned blue…”
“And your father loved her very much. Ma… Rogue, it doesn’t matter what happens. After the ceremony Robert is bound to you. His mind is linked together with yours. Your body doesn’t matter, at least it shouldn’t.”
“What about… You had a wife once.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love her?”
“Yes.”
“What was she like?”
“What does it matter? It was so long time ago that I have already forgotten what she looked like. She… I think she had a red hair. She was a telepath. Kind. A healer. She loved poetry and hated when I wasn’t around to take her to see the plays. She…”
“What happened to her?”
“She died. Long before you were born. Come on, we better get moving…”

He could still remember the night Jean had died. Her screams at the hands of a monster her brother had turned when his ceremony had gone awry. Victor’s transformation had been unfinished when his wife to be had died. It had scarred Victor’s mind and body, made him a raving lunatic, and for some reason he had blamed Jean for the accident. Victor had showed up one night, beaten Logan, breaking most of his bones and then as he lay on the floor half unconscious the monstrosity had moved on to his wife and torn her to pieces with his bare hands. Not something he wanted to reminiscence.

“Here we are…” he huffed from relief when they reached the blacksmith's small shed. He took one last glance from their surroundings and steered the girl he was escorting in, feeling strangely reluctant to follow her. Something told him that the trip wouldn’t end like he had expected to.

He was getting nervous. They had spent longer in the shop than it was absolutely necessary, going over different options, and she had been turning them down. They were too big, too small, too noisy, too silent, too…
“What about this one?” He patted a promising looking droid. Humanoid in shape, equipped with two laser cannons and a cudgel. She shook her head and he traded glances with the blacksmith.
“Well, perhaps the lady would like to see something different, then?” The blacksmith asked, steering them towards the backroom.

Heat radiating from the forge was enough to raise small beads of sweat on to her forehead. Logan handed her a handkerchief to wipe them off, trying to see what the blacksmith was offering. A lump of metal. Dull and grey, square lump of metal, little wider than a man’s palm, and not much thicker.
“What’s that?” He asked.
“I use this material to reinforce the plating around droid’s power source. I melt it, and add little something to it, and after it cools down it’s indestructible.”
“And? We’re looking for a droid, not spare parts.”
“I’m aware of your gift. You heal. I could use this metal to reinforce you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I could weld this to your bones. Make them stronger. Unbreakable. The lady wouldn’t need a droid…”
“The lady will take a droid.”

In the end Marie refused and told him she needed more time to think about all the options.
“But you can forget upgrading me,” he grunted when they stepped out from the shop.
“God! How can you even think about… What kind of a person you think I am? I thought you knew me better than that!” She hissed.
“I saw the look on your face when he flashed that lump of shit…”
“I was only thinking that maybe we could ask him to make a sword for you from that material as a thank you for all the years you have been taking care of me, you big ox!”

He couldn’t smell a lie on her, and suddenly he felt disgusted about himself. He had spent the past fifteen years his every waking hour, even in sleep with her. He really should have known better.
“I’m sorry,” he grunted his apology before stepping in front of her to make way through the crowd.

Large courtyard was filled with servants, chariots, trunks and baggage. She spotted Robert Drake, her coming husband from the crowd and slinked behind Logan’s back.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked.
“I don’t want to see him now. Hide me…”
“Where?” Logan asked perplexed when Robert waved with his hand and started making his way through the crowd to them.
“Oh, no. No, no… Just stand there!” She squeaked, ducking under the large, billowy cape that hung from Logan’s shoulders, making sure that the brim of it covered her feet and the hem of her dress. She could hear Logan barking a command to few of the guards that had been escorting them, and she could feel through the cape them moving standing behind Logan, covering the telltale bulge on the cape.

“Wolverine. I thought I saw Rogue…”
“You saw wrong, Drake. She’s been in her room the whole day. She wasn’t feeling very well this morning,” She could hear Logan explaining. He shifted his feet slightly and nearly stepped on her fingers. She sucked in the squeak and snatched them back just as the sole of his boot landed on to cobblestone where they had been.
“She’s sick? That is unfortunate.”
“Yes, it is. But I wouldn’t be worried. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you… Wolverine,” Robert snarled.
“Most likely. Do you want me to deliver her a message? Tell her that you’re arrived? I’m sure she’d be happy to hear…”
“Cut the crap. I know perfectly well how joyfully she’s expecting our ceremony.”
“She’s young. She’s nervous. She’ll come around when the time comes.”
“But what are you still doing here? Did Xavier found you a new position from the staff?”

Robert’s question clearly annoyed Logan; she could tell it from the way his calf muscles coiled, stretching the soft leather of his boots. She brought her fingers warningly over his calves, praying every possible higher deity to keep Logan’s temper at bay.

“I’ll be guarding Rogue until she finds a suitable droid for herself. Didn’t Xavier inform you?”
“But I sent her a droid already!”
“Yes, you did. But she found it clumsy. She’s going through different options until she finds the one of her liking.”
“We’ll see about that… Goddamned… That man has always been too lenient…” She could hear Robert leaving, muttering under his breath. She started to move, but felt Logan’s hand on top of her head.
“Stay down. He’s not gone yet.”

Finally after what felt like hours Logan stepped forward, releasing her from under his cape and helping her up from the ground.

“Care to explain what was that all about?” He asked. He sounded genuinely curious, but there was anger in his voice as well.
“This morning I thought you had finally figured out what it takes to be a ruler. It doesn’t look like that anymore. You’re acting like a spoiled brat.”
“Spoiled brat? Do you have any idea what would have happened if Robert saw me with you? He would have frozen you, no questions asked!”
“You start forgetting that it’s my job to protect you, not the other way around, Marie.”
“Fine! Next time I just let him turn you to a block of ice! Maybe we can use you to decorate the table at our ceremony. You’d make a good wine cooler and fruits would stay cool and fresh around you!”
“Marie…”
“It’s Rogue. Don’t forget your place, Wolverine…”
“I won’t. Fucking…”
“What was that?”
“Just that I would perhaps remember my place and status better if certain obnoxious brat would remember hers. I’m not a servant, your highness. I’m your shadow.”
“Maybe I should accept the droid Robert send for me…”
“Please, do. There’s still hours left in this day. I have time to gather my things and I can be out of here before nightfall.”
“Fine.”

She raised her chin and straightened her posture, gathered the hem of her dress and started walking towards the main entrance, remembering at the last possible moment why it was practically impossible to enter through there. She was supposed to be in her room, wallowing in the clutches of nausea, not running around the castle and storming to the throne room. She stopped and turned reluctantly to look at Logan who stood waiting patiently.

“On the other hand, maybe it’s better that I wait until after dinner. Father is always in better mood when he has eaten,” she said, turning to a path that lead around the castle, and would bring her to the kitchen door. The people working in there had long ago gotten accustomed to Logan sneaking her in after curfew or them raiding the pantry after unsatisfactory meal, so they wouldn’t raise a ruckus.

First time in his life he was completely at loss of what to do. He was standing at the doorstep, unsure of should he enter or stay outside. His current position as Marie’s bodyguard made it impossible to stay further than straight at her side for further periods at time, but her upcoming unification ceremony and the presence of her husband to be in the castle made it difficult, if not downright impossible to spend any period of time with her alone.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Marie asked, already undoing the laces of her bodice, obviously getting ready for her ‘bedridden and not so well’ –act. He shook his head and stepped in, closing the door and going over to where she stood, falling to his old habit of helping her undressing and getting comfortable after she had been traipsing around swathed in heavy layers of formal dress and suffocating corset.

He winced a bit when the last scrap of garment fell from her and he saw the angry, red welts on her skin, realizing just now how tight he had laced her clothing earlier that day. He let his fingers skim over the marred skin of her back and she curled under his touch, letting out a relieved hiss.
“Sorry about this. Should I… I could go and get something to soothe…” He muttered. She shook her head and arched against his coarse palm, trembling slightly when he rubbed her back.
“Thanks… I could use a bath, but that’ll have to wait. Since I’m not feeling so well, I can’t waltz around smelling roses…” She sighed, flopping on the bed face down. He covered her nude form with light gown before retreating to the window.
“You do anyway…” He whispered before he caught himself.
“Do what?” She asked, sounding as she was already falling asleep. Their trip to the blacksmith had apparently worn her out.
“Your scent. It’s always roses and blood. Doesn’t matter what you do or how often you bathe. It’s… It’s you,” he explained, shifting awkwardly, waiting for yet another question. That never came. Her even breathing told him that she had fallen asleep. He sat on the windowsill, cringing when his chest plate creaked against the stone and she stirred in her sleep, but eventually she settled down again and he dared to turn his gaze fully on to her.

He tried. He really tried, but couldn’t bring himself to imagine her as anything else than the girl he saw in front of him right now. Granted, there was every possibility that the gift the ceremony would activate in her could be disastrous in many ways, but he was quite certain there was nothing to worry about. Everybody showed off certain signs of what could possibly happen long before the manifestation, and he was quite skilled at reading those small indicators. He was quite certain that Marie wouldn’t inherit her mother’s mutation.

He frowned. She seemed mostly to be concerned about what would happen to her outer appearance. He hadn’t thought she’d be as shallow. There was a lot more to be concerned about than if her hair turned weird or if she grew scales. He’d have to talk about it with her. Share his experience with Victor in detail. Make sure that she realized all the risks and coped with them instead of dragging some childish insecurities and phobias alongside her in to the ceremony. The more informed and relaxed she was, the better she would fare through it all.

A knock on the door interrupted his worrying over her and he rose quickly to answer to it, not wanting her to wake up yet. Dinner would be few hours away, and he needed her well and clear-headed.

“I came to relieve you from your duties, Wolverine,” Robert said. He was standing at the doorstep, his fingers clutching the hilt of a sword straddled at his side.
“Do you have Xavier’s authorization?” Logan asked, strange mixture of relief and panic gripping his chest. Robert nodded, handing him a rolled parchment. Logan took it and broke the seal, noting it really had been Xavier that had sent Robert and took the parchment to the window to see more clearly the lavish writing on it.

It was a simple form, written in common language. His services were no longer needed, and Xavier was hoping he’d step down from his position and accept certain amount of gold, as well as small patch of land and adjoining farmhouse complete with herd of sheep, a horse and yearly allowance as a reward for his long years in his service.

He rolled up the parchment and gazed his sleeping protégée, taking a hesitant step towards the bed, then turned around stiffly and walked out from the room, leaving her in to Robert’s care.

It wasn’t until he reached the stables when he realized his mistake. By then it was already late, but he turned on his heels and charged back towards the grand entrance of the castle, cursing the weight of the armor that was dragging him down, hoping against hope that he’d get back to her in time.

He hadn’t been able to smell Xavier’s scent on the release form.

When he got back in to her room, it was all over. Palace guards were dragging unconscious Robert out. Marie was crouching in the corner, naked and screaming, telling everybody to back off. Her thighs were smeared with fresh blood.

“What the hell happened?” He growled when he spotted Xavier at the doorstep. Old man looked sad and disappointed, as well as worried and angry.
“What happened? Isn’t it obvious? Robert Drake ruined our future.”
“Future?”
“There is no way I can accept my daughter’s union with him. Not now. Not ever. Drakes were our strongest ally. Now… They became our strongest enemy. I have no option but to condemn Robert for what he did, and his father won’t be pleased when we send the boy back beheaded.”
“That’s all? You’re worried about your precious kingdom? What about Ma… Rogue?”
“She’s as good as ruined. Robert forced her to manifest. And we both know how well that works. She’s… Rather hazardous for those surrounding her. She can kill with her touch.”
“Ruined? It’s your own daughter you’re speaking… Sir… She’s…”
“She’s lethal. Her skin started to develop toxins to keep her safe when Robert forced himself in to her. She’s no use to our kingdom anymore. I can’t offer her for unification anymore. Now Scott’s our only chance…”
“It’s Rogue you’re talking about! She needs a medic!”
“I’m afraid it would be a waste of time.”
“Sir… I still am her guardian, if I’m not mistaken?”
“Yes. Yes. I must admit that the ploy Robert used to get you out of his way was rather…”
“Everybody out! Everybody! That means you as well, Xavier! Out! Now!”

As soon as the last of the servants left the room he shut the door and locked it. Checked rest of the doors and windows, making sure that there were no extra ears spying behind them before crouching in front of the sobbing girl.
“Marie?”
“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” She scooted even further to the corner, almost as if she were trying to dissolve right through the wall. He backed off slightly, racing his hands to a placating gesture.
“I won’t touch you. Not yet. Can you tell me what happened?” Scent of her blood was increasing every passing moment. That couldn’t be a good sign. He had enough experience from virgins to know that a girl wasn’t supposed to bleed like a stabbed pig after her first time. Not if everything was done as it should have been done.

“I… I was still asleep. There was somebody sitting next to me on the bed… At first I thought it was you…” What on earth had made her to think that he’d sit on her bed when she was sleeping on it? Question flickered through his mind, but he didn’t ask it. It wasn’t important now.
“You thought it was me. What happened next?” He urged her to continue. Marie hid her face to her palms.
“He… He started petting my hair. Just like you… Like you used to do when I was younger. I… I moved closer at him. I could feel that his tunic was silk, not leather, but I was so sleepy and it felt so good and I thought it was you…”
“And then?”
“I fell asleep again. Woke up when he was on top of me. It was hard to breathe and then it started to hurt… It still hurts… It hurts so bad… He bit my shoulder and…” Marie curled even tighter around her and started rocking back and forth.
“My stomach hurts… And there’s so much blood… Why there is so much blood? Logan? Why? It isn’t… Is it supposed to happen like this?”
“No. It isn’t. Will you let me take a look at you?”
“I… I don’t want to…”
“It has to be done. You said your stomach hurts. There’s something seriously wrong inside of you. You might die if it’s not treated.”
“I know… But I think I have been humiliated enough.”
“Humiliated? Try insulted. Hurt, insulted and violated. Robert did this to you. This wasn’t your fault. Can you stand up? Walk to your bed?”

She wobbled to her bed unsteadily, clearly reluctant to get on to it so soon after what had happened. She laid on it on her stomach.

“Marie? I need you to turn around and spread your legs. Otherwise I won’t be able to see what…” Her whole body flushed bright red and he could barely hear her muttering something.
“What did you say?”
“Robert chose the wrong hole.”

The girl was as good as dead. Her skin was getting paler every passing moment, and from the soft gasps and rigid grimace on her face he could tell that pain in her stomach was increasing. She was bleeding inside. And probably not only that. He knew enough from the functions of the body that the place Robert had torn would poison her whole body in a matter of hours. He sat heavily next to her on the bed, making sure that there was enough cloth to cover his skin from hers and pulled her carefully against his side.

“Logan?” Her voice shook. She was trembling all over.
“You’re dying, Marie.”
“No…”
“Yes. I have seen this happen before. It’ll be over in a few hours. Should I… Do you want me to go and get your father? Your brother?”
“No… Don’t let me die. Logan… Please, don’t let me die…”
“There’s nothing I can do. Robert… He broke something that can’t be fixed. I’m sorry.” Sorry for failing his duty. Sorry for his inability to rectify the situation. Sorry for her. Sorry for himself.
“But I want you to know… About Robert. I’ll make sure Xavier uses his power not to behead the bastard. I’ll make sure that Robert ends up to the arena with me. I’ll make sure he’ll die. Slowly.”

He sat and held her gently. Her whole body shivered from suppressed screams as she fought against the pain. She was the princess. Soiled, violated and hurt, but born to the family of rulers. She wasn’t going to give Robert the pleasure of hearing that she had spent her final moments sobbing and screaming like a common whore.

“Logan? Would you… Would you do something for me?” He shifted slightly and turned to look at her, wet gleam in his eyes.
“Anything. You don’t have to ask. You command. You’re still my queen.”
“I’m asking you… As Marie, not the queen. Not a princess. Not somebody who commands you. Just Marie… Would you kiss me?”
“Marie…”
“I don’t… There’s a scarf on the table… Just a kiss on the cheek, through the cloth… It probably won’t hurt you…”
“To hell with that scarf. Come over here…”

He cradled her closer and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, flinched slightly when he heard a wet, tearing sound from somewhere inside of her.

“I love you, kid…”

His lips landed on hers, soft and hesitant at first, then more boldly when her lips parted. She could feel the strange tingling going through her whole body. It felt almost the same as it had felt with Robert, searing power pulsing through her veins, but when with Robert the flow had been rapidly ebbing, with Logan it only grew and started filling her with unbearable lightness and heat that settled in to her lower abdomen. She had closed her eyes. She let her eyelids flutter open. Logan was kissing her, his eyes open, somewhat pained look on his face. She could hear his heart. It was pounding so close, thudding and thumping irregularly. Suddenly he gasped and let go of her, falling backwards from the bed. The sound of his heart and the unnatural feeling of warmth disappeared, but she wasn’t feeling as weak anymore. She felt better. Good. Like there was nothing wrong with her. Like… She scooted on her hands and knees, mortified but curious, and brought her right hand over her buttocks, letting her fingers graze lightly the gap, fully expecting to feel jagged, torn and bleeding hole. Instead she found only already coagulated blood, and underneath it neatly puckered opening. Healed. She was healed. Logan used to heal from anything. He had kissed her and now she was healed. Logan had healed her. Logan.

“Logan!” She scrambled from the bed. Logan lay on the floor, barely conscious. He was struggling to get up.
“Marie… Get back in the bed… Get back, you’re… hurt…”
“You healed me! I’m not going to die! You healed me!”

“Get dressed. Something modest. Forget those frilly dresses. And leave the jewels and tiara.” Logan was pacing back and forth, rummaging through closets and throwing her clothes.
“But… Shouldn’t we go and tell my father that…”
“What? Tell him that you’re alive? We can’t do that.”
“Why?”

Logan stopped and turned to look at her. She was sitting on the bed, clutching a soft, grey dress in front of her. He kneeled in front of her.

“Marie… As far as your father’s concerned… You’re dead. He has no daughter anymore. He doesn’t want or need you anymore. For him you’re… Useless. Damaged. It’s Scott’s turn to step forth and take the throne once your father dies. It’s up to Scott to form a union with some other kingdom. You’re not needed anymore. But as long as you’re alive, you’re on their way. You have to ‘die’ if you want to stay alive.”
“But… No.”
“Yes. For now you’re going to stay in my quarters, just long enough that I can find a better place for you. I’ll take you there and go and ‘bury’ your body. But we have to hurry. Get dressed. Leave everything else.”
“I can’t…”
“You can and you will if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours attached to the rest of your body. You should be dead by now. Xavier will soon send somebody to take care of your body. I have to take you to my place and hurry to the crypt before that happens.”

“Be quiet now.” Logan whispered. She muttered a quiet curse and tried to breathe. It was hard. Logan had wrapped her to a thick blanket from head to toe and hoisted her over his shoulders. To everybody it would look like he was carrying a corpse. She could see floor tiles and flashes of Logan’s feet as he walked. Walked. He wasn’t running. And she could feel his shoulders hunching a bit.
“What are you doing?” She braved a silent whisper.
“Shut up. Dead people tell no tales, Marie. You’re dead, I’m angry and disappointed and I’m just going to my room to take care of something before I go and put you under a slab of stone.”

She could feel his shoulders tensing a bit. Then Logan stopped.
“Wolverine.” Her father. She felt chilly fingers of fear creeping along her spine. He’d know that she wasn’t really dead. He knew everything.
“Xavier.”
“So. It is over?”
“Yes.”
“Was she in pain?”
“I’d imagine so. Drake raped her. Tore up her innards.”
“I see… In your opinion, what would be the suitable punishment for that?” Her father asked. And she knew. Her father knew that she was alive. He knew and was willing to pretend.
“Give drake to me at the arena. I’ll make sure that he knows how Mar… Rogue felt in the end.”
“That sounds reasonable. Does she… Do you need anything? I presume you’re going to bury her now. Does she have proper outfit? Do you think she would have wanted something with her to her last journey?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should… Maybe you should try and see if your gift extends to afterlife. Maybe you could ask from her soul…”
“But of course. How silly of me.”

She felt her father’s gift brushing against her thoughts. She cringed back in fear, but she couldn’t feel anything but sadness and tiredness floating from the old man. And regret. In his own way her father was trying to apologize what had happened.

“I’m afraid it’s impossible. She’s truly gone. My poor daughter… Can’t have even proper burial because of that young fool… Make sure that Robert learns everything there is to know about pain before you finish him, Wolverine.”
“I promise. But now I really have to hurry. I need to get her cleaned up and properly dressed before…”
“Yes. Yes, of course… When you’re ready, I want you to come and see me. In my private quarters. I’ll be resting for the rest of the day.”

She breathed in deeply and stretched her hands, taking in her surroundings. Small room, only window blocked with wooden paneling. Bare stone walls. Floor covered with worn but soft rugs. A large fireplace dominated one corner. There was a chair in front of it. A sturdy-looking bed stood in one corner, and in front of it laid large wooden trunk. Everything looked old and worn, but clean and tidy.
“I didn’t even know you have your own room.”
“I do. I just don’t spend that much time in here. This is… we are on the roof of the main building. Nobody except me comes here. Ever. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go to the crypt and visit your father…” Logan was walking towards the door.
“Logan?”
“Yes?” He stopped.
“Do you… Do you really love me?”

He had hoped she wouldn’t remember. Wouldn’t remember the words he had whispered when he had thought that they wouldn’t matter anymore.
“Logan, please… Answer to my question.” His hands curled to tight fists. He shook his head slowly. Tried to form the only suitable answer, only appropriate answer to her question. And couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t lie to her anymore.
“Yes. I love you.”

He left the room before she got her mouth in working order, but he thought he had heard her answering through the door he locked. He didn’t want to dwell too long on the fact that she was most likely as much in love with him as he was with her. That wouldn’t be their future. She was still from royal lineage. He was still just a guard. And he already had an inkling of what Xavier wanted to discuss of.

He stomped around in the crypt, leaving his footprints, dragging the roll of heavy rug and blanket around until he reached his destination. A stone casket made for her. Made for Rogue. He opened it carefully and threw in the rug and the blanket, then closed the lid and sealed it with a substance that would in time melt stone and mend the lid and the casket seamlessly together. In a fit of anger he unsheathed his claws and scraped them over the casket, decorating it with three distinctive gauges and splintering his claws in process.

While Logan was away Marie was making herself comfortable. In her case it meant trying to find out more about the man she had lived her whole life with. Trunk wasn’t locked. It was filled to the brim with clothes, paddings and different pieces of armor. And from the bottom of the trunk she found a package. Carefully wrapped to several layers of thick wool. A simple dress made out of finest silk she had ever seen. Beautiful, modest, light piece of fabric. Almost snow white, little yellowed from age. There were brownish speckles on it. It took her a while to realize what it was.

She folded it neatly and wrapped it carefully back inside of wool. Logan’s wife had been wearing that dress. Brownish speckles were her blood. Logan wouldn’t want anybody to lay their hands on it. She closed the trunk and sat on it, letting her gaze roam over the room. Logan had been telling the truth. Place looked almost like nobody even lived in there.

She tried not to do that, but her mind kept drifting back to Logan’s confession. The way his whole body had tensed. The way he had practically spat the words out from his mouth like they were poison before marching out. He knew she loved him. And that she had hoped him to return her feelings some day. Why did it felt… Less than disappointing now that the truth was out? How had he managed to make it sound so wrong and dirty all of a sudden? And why? She was no princess anymore. She was just a girl. Just Marie. Just as she had often imagined in her dreams, just an ordinary girl, free to love anybody who she wanted. Unless of course… Unless Logan thought her now to be repulsive. Disgusting and soiled because of what had happened. And there was her brand new skin. The skin that could not be touched. He wouldn’t want a nuisance like her in his life.

She stood by the window, trying to pry open the wooden paneling when door opened and Logan stepped in. He looked tired. Tired but excited. And nervous.
“What happened? What did my father wanted to talk to you about?”
“He has made so arrangements. There’s a small estate at the countryside. Few days’ ride from here. He has arranged my retirement there. You’ll be leaving tonight. Your father has arranged you an escort.”
“What are we going to do once we get there?”
“Your father is going to pay you an yearly allowance. I don’t know how he plans to hide it from Scott, but I’m sure he has something figured out already. You stay there, keep quiet and present no claims over the throne when time comes and everybody’s happy.”
“Should we pack? You’re going to bring your belongings, aren’t you? Yes. We should pack. Why didn’t you bring any trunks with… You… You bastard! You’re not coming, are you?”
“Marie…”
“Fine. When do I leave?” She asked, forcing a cold edge to her voice.
“As soon as the sun sets. Somebody’s going to come and take you there. I have some business to take care of in the town, so…”

He shuffled his feet, his eyes darting between the toes of his boots and the door. Marie was angry. She was hurting. Disappointed. But it was better this way. It was the right thing to do. And when she made no move, didn’t even bother to say goodbye he turned on his heels and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Xavier had known all along. He had understood Marie’s mutation. But he couldn’t reveal it when there were so many people in the room. To the kingdom Marie had been as good as useless. That had been the reason he had sought out Logan later. To thank him for what he had done.

When Logan had walked in to his room, Xavier had been sitting by the window, his shoulders hunched and head bent, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I have no choice but to abandon her. There’s too much at stake, and as long as she stays free woman, Scott has no right to seek union. There’s a small estate… Her mother was born there. I have arranged everything. Rogue… She must move there. Tonight. I think Scott is already suspecting something. And you, Wolverine… Prepare yourself. Robert used his right to choose a fighter for himself. I was hoping he wouldn’t have remembered that old law, but…”
“Fine. Do you know who he’s going to call?”
“One of his droids. If I were you, I’d consider my next move very carefully.”

The blacksmith was still at work. The man only nodded and retrieved the lump of metal from its hiding place when Logan walked in.
“I need you to take care of the bellows. Hot coals aren’t enough. They have to be blazing like the pits of hell,” the blacksmith said. Logan nodded.
“Once we start this there’s no going back. It has to be done right away. Once the metal cools down, it’ll come indestructible and it can’t be melted again.” Again Logan nodded.
“I can’t give you any guarantees. It’ll hurt. You may die.”
“I can take the pain. And dying won’t be an option.”