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1-Shiva
2-2
3-3
4-4
5-5
6-6
7-7
8-8
9-9
10-10
11-11
12-12
13-13
14-14
15-15
16-16 and 17
17-17
18-19
19-20
20-21
21-22
22-23
23-24
24-25
25-26
26-27
27-28 (edited)
28-29
29-30
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32-33
33-34
34-35
35-36
36-37
37-38
38-39
39-40
40-41
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57-58
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59-60
60-61
61-62
62-epilogue
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SHIVA—CHAPTER 14 (NC-17) Standard disclaimers apply A/N Mille grazie a Foxfeather. She hasn’t killed me yet for sending her all this fic and translations, so she gets extra karma points. J And thanks oodles to all who reviewed—makes me all mushy inside. (Hint, hint) “Reichst du mir bitte den Saftkrug?”[1] Kurt asked around a mouthful of pancakes. Kitty was picking dejectedly at her bowl of cottage cheese and pineapple, seemingly not hearing him. “Katzchen,” he asked louder and without the obstruction, “Reichst du mir bitte den Saftkrug?” “Huh?” She looked up at him with narrowed, confused eyes. Kurt sighed as if she should understand him perfectly and pointed with his fork to the pitcher of juice near her elbow. Slowly, he said, “Pass auf…[2]Reichst du mir bitte den Saftkrug?” Kitty stared at him as if he had grown another head. Logan, making coffee at the counter snorted softly and Kurt fought the urge to smile. “Fuzzy, what on Earth did you just ask me?” Kurt sighed loudly and rolled his head back in exasperation. “Reichst du mir bitte den verdammten Saftkrug!” “Watch it, Elf…” Logan stepped to the table and passed Kurt the pitcher of orange juice as he pulled up his own chair. ‘Oh, like, why didn’t you just say so?” Kitty shook her head and returned her attention to picking at her breakfast. She was a little less sad than the day before but still very distracted, Kurt noticed. “I think this is getting too mushy to eat…” “Pancake, Half-Pint?” Logan shoved the platter of breakfast at her, still piled relatively high since most of the other mutants were not yet up. “Um…maybe one. Or two.” Kitty moved to put her bowl in the sink and grab a plate from the cabinet. “Where’s all the silverware?” "Brauchst du eine Gabel?"[3] Kurt produced an extra fork from his place setting, waving it between two fingers at Kitty. “Um…huh?” Kitty looked from the fork to him and back again, then repeated her question. “Huh?” “Brauchst du eine Gabel?” I am getting tired of repeating myself… “I…guess so…” Kitty reached a tentative hand out and took the fork. “Uh, thanks.” Logan snorted again, muffling it with his coffee cup. “So, Half-pint, how’re you doing today?” “Well,” she cut her pancake neatly into squares, “I’m sad but I think I am healing. I mean, she’s gone and I can’t bring her back. I know she wouldn’t want me to mope around after her like this. But it still hurts so much. When I think I’m getting over it, I remember something she did once or I’ll hear a voice that sounds like her…” Kitty sighed. “It’s going to take a while.” “Hmmm. Well, you know I’m here if you need to work out some frustrations. I got strong ear drums…you can yell and rail at the Universe as loudly as you want to. Until then, I’m off to run a sim with Jamie before school.” Logan rose and quirked an eyebrow at Kurt. “Good luck, Elf.” “What did he mean by that?” Kitty asked when the older man was gone. Kurt shrugged, saved from answering by sipping on his juice. Kitty munched on her pancakes for a minute, watching as Kurt scraped the last of the syrup from his plate and licked his fork clean. “Why aren’t you speaking English this morning?” Kurt cocked his head to one side and, as if he had not heard her, said “Du bist noch nicht mit Essen fertig."[4] “Kurt!” Kitty shoved her chair back. “Why the Hell are you speaking German at me?” Kurt rose calmly and put his dishes in the sink. He took up Kitty’s plate and glass and place them likewise before turning to face her. Slowly, so that maybe she would catch on, he said “Wenn du nicht so stur wärest, würdest du es bereits wissen.”[5] Kitty’s brain clicked into gear. She had spoken Yiddish often and long enough that some of the words were registering. “Hey! I’m not being stubborn!” Kurt rolled his eyes and nodded that yes, she was. “Am not! Kurt, I told you before, I’m just not in a place to take on something like learning a new language yet!” Kitty sighed and rose to her feet. “I can’t understand why this is such a big deal to you!” Kurt’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to retort but Kitty cut him off. “Unless it’s in English or another language I speak, I don’t want to hear it!” “Warum hast du damit ein Problem?"[6] Kurt could not help the note of annoyance that crept into his voice. “Damn it! What did I just say?” Kitty threw down her napkin and spun on her heel to leave the room. Kurt leapt forward and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her back flush against his front. “Kurt, please…” “Bitte…” “I said please…” “Sprich mir nach…”[7] “No. Go to school.” Kitty understood “repeat after me” from all the times her mother’s mother had tried to teach her something in Yiddish or Hebrew. For some reason, Kurt’s version of Berlitz was making her seriously irritated and she was not about to hide it from him. Twisting from his grasp, she faced him and growled, “I said I am not ready to learn another language! How many ways can I say this?” She proceeded to repeat the statement in Ladino, Yiddish, Russian, and Greek before storming from the room. Kurt sighed and wilted into a chair. He was not looking forward to spending a day knowing that he had angered Kitty. Jean was pulling her hair into a ponytail when she caught a whiff of Scott’s cologne. “Hey.” “Hey yourself…” His hands slid around her waist and his mouth descended on the nape of her neck. God, she tastes so good! “Watch it!” Jean danced away from his grasp, her new intimacy with Scott still uneasy in her mind. He sighed and stepped back, allowing her to slide back in front of the bathroom mirror and re-fix her hair. “What’re you doing in here, anyway?” “Just wanted to see you before school…I mean, I know you’re not into the PDA so I figured get my fix this morning instead of suffering.” He offered her a cheeky grin and she rolled her eyes, turning to lean against the counter top and meet his eyes. “You’re more affectionate than I thought.” “That a bad thing?” He frowned a little then and crossed his arms defensively. “No! I just don’t know how to handle it…” Jean sighed ruefully. “I guess I’m still learning.” “As much as I hate to mention it, didn’t Duncan used to hold your hand and junk at school?” ‘That’s just it…” Jean levered herself up and spread her hands in supplication. “He did it. I was just…there…um that kind of brings up a sore point, Scott.” “What’s that?” Even as he asked, he knew the answer. “I still haven’t told Duncan about us.” She all but whispered this, half-expecting an explosion from Scott. “Why not?” His sad tone surprised her. “Are you embarrassed?” “What? Why the Hell would I be embarrassed? I just don’t know how to tell him!” Jean stepped forward, reaching tentatively for Scott’s arms. “I’m a little scared to…” “Why? Why should you be scared to tell him that you’re with me? That we’re together?” Scott pulled Jean into a loose embrace and murmured against her hair, “Is that why you’re hesitant to let me hold your hand at school? You’re afraid he’ll see?” Jean nodded but otherwise did not respond. “Jean, I don’t know how to ask this, but does he hit you?” “No!” She jerked back to look at Scott in the eyes. “Well, there has to be a reason that you’re afraid.” He let out a long breath and pulled her close again. “You’re just afraid.” “Yeah…silly, huh?” “Nah. I can see how you can be afraid of Duncan. I mean, he’s frightening as Hell compared to Kitty’s cooking that you eat on a regular basis or the Danger Room sims that you run every day. Hell, compared to those two, Duncan is a monster!” Jean snorted against his chest. “I see your point. I’ll tell him today.” “Can I?” “You sound too eager…no.” Jean smiled then and tipped her chin up for a kiss. “I think you can get your morning fix now…” “Never one to turn down a lady…” Scott grinned in return and pressed his lips to hers, schooling himself to be polite, not to throw her down and take her then and there. Jean surprised him, though. Her tongue darted out and laved his lower lip. When he gasped in shock, she took the opportunity to gain entrance to his mouth and proceeded to render that morning’s cold shower useless. When she finally pulled away, she smiled easily. “Whoever said I was a lady?” she murmured as she shoved him out the door. Amara blinked as Scott stumbled out of the bathroom, nearly knocking her down. She could see Jean as the door swung shut, smiling like a cat in cream. For one brief moment, jealousy flared in her breast but then, as Scott saw her seeing him and a look of pity fixed on his features, she dismissed the emotion. Drawing herself into a posture of regal disdain, Amara snarled “Is this a private bathroom now or am I permitted to use it with the commoners?” “Tone it down, Amara. We were just talking.” Scott shook his head. “What’re you doing up, anyway?” “I’m depressed, not dead.” She shoved past him and into the bathroom, cutting off his reply with the slamming door. Jean jumped in startlement then smiled. “Why aren’t you in your own bathroom?’ Her smilidiniding into a frown, Jean responded “Showers’ broken. I think Bobby froze my pipes again. What’s with you?” Jean picked up on strong feelings of anger and confusion mixing with Amara’s sadness. “Feeling better?’ Amara sniffed turned the cold shoulder to Jean. Busying herself at the shower’s knobs, Amara missed the look of pity that mirrored Scott’s passing over Jean’s face. After adjusting the water to her liking, Amara sighed and said “I think he did it to mine, too. All I got was cold water in my room.” With that, she shed her robe and stepped under the spray, shutting Jean out officially. By the time she got out of the shower over forty five minutes later, Jean was long gone to school along with the others, save Kitty. Dripping wet, Amara used the corner of her robe to wipe the steam off of the long mirror in the communal bathroom. She saw herself then, took brutal stock of all that was there. Stringy hair, scars all over my body—most of them my fault, I have no hips, I have no breasts, I have no shape whatsoever…Knobby knees, round thighs, long feet. I’m hideous. I am Nova Roman elite, damn it, I am supposed to be beautiful and a goddess on earth! What’s happened to me? Unconsciously, her hand dropped to her belly and pressed there, feeling for the life that was not to be. How could this have become my life? Her gaze found her feet again and the fine chain that Lance had secured there only the day before shone around her ankle. I think he’s delusional. He can’t want position—my position in Nova Roma has no cachet here. Money…none. Sex? He can have that with whoever he wants almost. Why does he want me? The steam was slowly taking over the mirror again and she sighed, wrapping her now-damp robe around herself and edged silently into the hallway. Lance had moved a lot of his belongings in last night to a room down the hall from her own. He had told her that the guys at the boardinghouse thought he was moving in because he was sick of the mess there, which was partially true. He had said he let them believe it was because she was putting out. That had made her laugh, she remembered. Not a happy laugh but one of self-derision, one that made Lance shudder behind her back. She had kicked him out of her room sometime after noon the day before, not giving him a reason but burning inside with shame that she had felt so content, so safe, while lying with him. Lance had looked sad but did not question her. Now, as she stood alone in her room, naked and dripping water onto the carpet, she wished he were there again. With pained steps, Amara forced herself to the figurine in the window. Reopening the gash in her hand, she let several drops of blood drip into Poena’s offering bowl and focused her intent in her mind. With careful, measured movements, Amara placed several herbs and a hank of her own hair into the bowl and lit the mixture. It flared briefly and sent an acrid smoke wafting over her. Hear me…bring Tabitha to me now. Let her meet fit punishment at my hands… She was not sure how long she had been lost in her trance, only that her hair was almost dry when she came to. Amara rose and thanked the goddess silently, rolling her neck to relieve built-up tension. She noted that it was past ten a.m. and surely Kitty would be by to make sure she had started her daily work. Maybe I should give her a scare and stay naked… The idea was quickly dismissed, however, in favor of her own innate modesty where people other than Lance were concerned. She drew on a rather staid dress in tones of black and gray, set off by the anklet and the stone, which she had bound in a silken cage made from a ribbon taken from another dress, wrapping the stone so that it hung in a precarioradlradle around her neck, resting in the hollow of her throat. Feeling cooped up, Amara gathered several textbooks and her binder and made her way to the library, hoping to avoid Kitty. Hellfire. The girl was sitting dead center of the mansion’s library, poring over a stack of books and taking studious notes. Kitty looked up sharply and, seeing Amara, plastered a false smile on her face. “Oh, hey, Am. I was just going to come see if you needed any help with your work today.” “No’m f’m fine,” Amara replied stonily. “Hm. Okay.” Kitty frowned slightly and continued, “You want to sit here? I mean, no point in both of us ignoring each other while we’re the only ones in the room…” Amara sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Just don’t talk to me.” Amara all but stomped over to join the other girl and dropped her books with a clatter. “No, I don’t need help, no I don’t want help and no, I will not ask for help.” “Geez! Okay, okay…I’ve got my own thing to do…” Kitty shook her head and returned her attention to the books Storm had given her the day before. Amara glared for another moment and then opened her math text. A thousand niggling thoughts crept into her mind, flitting about like gnats. He loved her. Why? Will he again? Does he still? Why me now? Amara found her gaze returning to Kitty, taking stock of what she saw and comparing it to her own self-assessment. She’s pretty. A little on the plain side…How can Kurt see past those freckles? And she’s too pale…Her hair! Ugh! I don’t care if she is in mourning, if Jean is to be believed. At least wash your hair![8] Narrowing her gaze, Amara was satisfied to notice a small red pimple on Kitty’s hairline. At least my skin is clear… “What’re you staring at?” Kitty felt rather than saw Amara’s gaze. Long years of Kurt staring at her had made her able to notice when people were looking. “Nothing.” “Fine. Stare at nothing over that way, then.” Kitty glared at Amara and the Nova Roman glared back. After a moment, Kitty sighed and asked, “So long as you’re here, can I ask you something?” “No.” Busying herself with her book, Amara showed Kitty the top of her head in response. “Tough tits, chica. It’s like this…Kurt is trying to teach me German. I mean, he just like blitzkrieged me with it this morning and it really pissed me off! I told him a ton of times that I’m just not ready to learn another language yet!” Amara looked at her in disbelief. Slowly, she rose to her feet and leaned forward, resting her weight on her arms as she bent to Kitty’s level. “Let me get this straight. You have a boyfriend who is insanely devoted to you, would walk to Hell and back for you and smile while doing so, you have an wide network of friends who would not hesitate to lie, murder or steal just to keep you safe and happy, yave ave almost everyone at the mansion dancing to your tune, Kurt leading the way…” “It’s not like that!” came Kitty’s horrified response. “I’m not done yet! Far be it from me to defend that blueak, ak, but Kurt has twisted himself into knots for you since the dawn of time, if what I hear around this place can be believed. All he wants you to do is learn his native language and you have a bitch-fit about it! Fucking hell, Kitty, grow up!” Amara trembled with barely-checked emot “W “Wait here!” She stormed over to the reference bookshelf and returned clutching three books. “Read these!” She dumped a German-English dictionary, an elementary German lesson book, and a German phrase book into Kitty’s lap before dropping haughtily into her own seat. Kitty stared at her lap for a long time, then looked at Amara, livid with anger and staring back at her. A giggle erupted from Kitty’s throat and it soon turned into an outright laugh. “Oh, God! You’re right! You’re absofuckinglutely right! Who’d have thought I’d live to see the day? God!” Tears were streaming down Kitty’s reddening cheeks “What, might I ask, is so funny?” “Lance is making you soft!” Kitty gasped. “There was a time when you would have just told me to stuff it and stomped out of the room!” “I’m glad that you find me so amusing,” Amara replied sarcastically. “No, sweetie! It’s isn’t that…God, I haven’t laughed in days! It’s just that I was surprised…oyd…oy. Amara, you’re a trip!” Kitty gathered her books, even those Amara had dumped on her, and stood. “I’ll leave you alone—I need to go eat lunch anyway. Thanks, though. Seriously.” Pausing at the door, Kitty said, “If you need to talk to me about ….anything…you know, like Lance or something, I think I’m just about the world’s leading expert on his moods and such…” Kitty sged ged and said, “Ya know. Whatever. Hey, I’m gonna make some soup. I’ll save you some.” She left the library considerably cheered, leaving Amara staring after her uncomfortably. Damn it. Why is she always so damned good? Why am I the only bad one here? [1] Pass me the pitcher of juice, please? (Thanks, Foxy!) [2] Pay attention. (again, Thanks Foxy!) [3] Do you need a fork? (aw, Hell…Just know that Foxfeather translated everything into German and that I am thanking her profusely even as I write and Kurt speaks… ;) ) [4] You haven’t finished eating yet (yeah, these are gonna be long footnotes…) [5] If you weren’t being so stubborn, you might already know. [6] Why are you having such a problem with this? [7] Repeat after me. [8] In deep mourning, sitting shiva requires that you do not shave, wash or do anything considered vain for the entire period of mourning. |
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