A series by November

Chapter 70: Love Comes Walking

“There she stands
in a silken gown, silver lights shining down...”
--Van Halen

Marie slipped out of bed and got dressed. Logan was usually the early riser, but she woke up at six to blinding sunlight and could not sleep one minute more. So she laid in bed until almost eleven, then got up.

Logan was sprawled out in the sun, on his stomach, his hair trimmed but unruly.My wedding day, she thought. It’s my wedding day. To Logan.

She watched him sleep and tried to believe it was real. She and Logan. Married. Tonight.

"Darlin', are you gonna say good morning or you just gonna stare at my ass all day?" He said without opening his eyes. His voice was sleepy and gravelly.

"Hmm. Now that's always a tough one." She spanked the ass in question and he jolted forward.

Suddenly he sprung up out of bed and grabbed her. She shrieked and he pulled them both back into bed. "Did you just try to spank me, Marie?" She could feel his voice hot in her ear, menacing but trying not to smile.

She giggled. "Duh."

"The Wolverine does not get spanked, Marie." She giggled again. He sounded more like Scott than himself.

"Uh, sug, I think he just did."

He growled softly and pulled her close. He just looked at her and his face softened.

"I had the weirdest dream," she whispered. "I dreamt you and I were gonna get married tonight."

"That is a strange one." he smiled.

"Very surreal."

"Totally."

"And in the dream we had a little girl with blue hair."

"Now that is totally bizarre." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingered there, and kissed her some more.

"I want you." he whispered.

"I'm saving myself for marriage."

"That's not funny." He pressed his erection against her.

"Hmm," she moaned appreciatively. "As much as I'd love that I have a nail appointment with the girls, your mom included."

"Your nails look fine as is."

"Typical guy." She kissed him and stood up. "Though you look so hot..."

"Stay."

"Even if I did they'd be dragging me out of here in... two minutes. I gotta go."

"Fine."

"Love you."

"Me too."

"Tonight."

"Tonight." She gave him one last kiss and grabbed her purse.

It was a day of primping and fussing. They returned to the house with perfect nails, and converged on the room that Rogue, Kitty and Jubes had once shared, which now happened to be vacant, to get ready, and this felt appropriate, like old times.

They helped each other into dresses in that room, three generations of women. It was crowded, with the smell of perfume everywhere, with Mariah and Essie and Jubilee and Jean and Storm and Maggie and Leah. It felt like a rite of passage, a ceremony, as they zipped each other and brushed each other’s hair and clasped each other’s bracelets. There was a bit of sadness as they told Mariah stories about Kitty, but it almost felt like she was there, a benevolent presence among the tulle and satin.

Everyone was amazed that Rogue’s bridesmaids’ dresses turned out so well. All five were different, in different shades of violet, perfect, lovely as the women who wore them. Essie wore a matronly dress of satin with a ball gown’s full skirt. Storm wore lavender, clinging milky to her mocha skin. Jean wore a dark violet as intense as her hair, Leah wore a bluish-purple, and Jubilee wore a similar color.

As the shadows grew longer and evening approached Rogue’s heart began to beat faster. There was a knock on the door. Logan glanced past Storm to the sliver of fabric and flowers he could see, the mingled scents of women and light perfume and flowers. “Marie here?”

She came to the door but held it shut and they talked through it. “You can’t see me for...another hour sug, it’s bad luck.” He assured her that everything was okay, that everything was going without a hitch in the garden, that the guys all had their suits and that he couldn’t wait to marry her. She felt a shiver of anticipation move through her.

Maggie wore a pure white dress with tiny violet bows all along the length of the skirt. Marie pulled her hair back on both sides, fixed it with an ivory lily on each side, letting the rest fall in periwinkle ringlets down her back.

Finally they lifted the satin and crystal clowd of Rogue’s dress over her, pulling her arms through. The bodice fit snugly and perfectly, held by spaghetti straps, showing in the back a long expanse of perfect skin. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, turning sideways. Jubilee attached her veil, which floated down over her bare shoulders.

Mariah had diamond earrings that dangled and she put them on Marie. They sparkled behind the filmy white of her veil. “Here you go. The ring is old, the dress is new, these are borrowed, now you need something blue.”

“Well, I’ve got Maggie.”

"No, chica, you have to be wearing it on your person."

So Mariah gave her her favorite piece of turquoise to hold.

“It’s time,” Jean said.

“Is Logan down there? He better not be where he can see me.”

“He’s been down there for the last hour.”

“The guests are all here?”

“The guests are here, the food is ready. Scott says everything is just fine. Don’t worry.”

Indeed, outside the guests filed down the candlelit path to the ampitheatre. A translucent scrim blocked it from view of the mansion so that Rogue could walk down the aisle without being seen until the last minute. A hundred violet paper lanterns glowed in the trees, ebbing softly in the breeze, near and far in the forest, giving it depth. A string quartet played softly. The final touches had been made to the ampitheater. It was flanked with a bed of ivy and evergreens, their scent permeating the air. The benches were covered in linen and tied at the ends with violet ribbon.

Rogue’s heart was pounding so hard she thought she might throw up. She heard the low murmur of voices behind the scrim. Her wedding guests. All her friends were here. Everyone she cared about, here.

On the other side of the screen, Logan was standing with Hank. He was grinning in the candlelight. Most of the guests had never seen him like this.

The groomsmen were laughing and playing around like little boys. They descended on the lawn, dapper and dashing, cracking dirty jokes, and all gasped when they saw Rogue. She hugged them all, Johnny, Carter, Rakim, Bobby and Scott. “How’s Logan holdin’ up?” she asked Scott.

“He’s great, he’s like a little boy.” Scott whispered.

As she stood and tried to breathe the last song before the processional faded away into the night. She felt that she might faint.

Then on cue the music started, slow and delicate. Essie and Johnny met at the back of the ampitheater and she took his arm. The other couples followed - Jubilee and Bobby, Jean and Scott, Storm and Carter, Leah and Rakim.

Then Maggie walked slowly down the aisle alone, smiling, and stepped up to stand next to Logan. She smiled up at him, and him down at her.

Marie stepped from behind the scrim and Logan felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn’t stop smiling. She was so, so beautiful, dark hair swept back from her face, its dark gleam like a Renaissance portrait, and she glittered like an angel.

She looked down toward Charles, who sat at the back of the ampitheater. ~You’re beautiful.~ He took her arm and together they went up the aisle, her walking, him rolling. The music swelled and rose and filled the forest.

It was only then that she allowed herself to look at Logan, afraid she could not take the emotion of it.

He stood there in the light of the candles, tears glittering in his eyes, grinning. She both was and wasn’t the girl he’d met in Laughlin City. He squeezed Maggie’s hand without realizing. She squeezed back.

She swept a glance over the guests, the warm happy eyes watching her. Mutants and non, friends all.

Finally she ascended the three steps to the altar, standing opposite Logan, inexplicably shy, tears shining on her face. Their gazes met and locked and for a second everyone else disappeared. Then, Hank began to speak.

During the ceremony Rogue drifted as if on a dream, wanting to run and laugh and faint into oblivion all at once. She glanced at the guests, soaking in all the love in their eyes. Charles and Mariah sat together in the front, hands clasped.

The music stopped but the crickets’ reprise rose around them all.

He spoke his vows first, reaching for her hands, holding them gently in his. As private a person as Logan was, it didn‘t seem real that he would make this promise in front of all these people, but he did, eyes calm and voice strong.

“Marie, I promise to honor and cherish you, to rub your feet and cook you soup and to try to leave the toilet seat down.” She laughed, freeing the tension consuming her. Laughter filled the air around them.

She could not stop smiling as he continued. “I will protect you, fight for a world in which you and I and our children are safe. I will love and respect you,” he turned to Maggie “and you, until I die. And I will never, ever leave you.”

She fought for composure for a few horrific seconds before she could swallow her tears and speak, voice first thready, then strong. “Logan, I will love you and cherish you all our lives.” she swallowed. “I promise today in front of friends, family and God that I will be faithful to you and only you. I will also protect you and fight for a safe future for our children. When you are hurting, I will calm you. When you cry, I will wipe away your tears. When the nightmares come, I will chase them away. When you smile, I will smile with you. And when there is joy, we will share it too.”

Silence filled the forest. Logan bit his lip. Still his tears spilled over.

“Who has the rings?”

Essie and Johnny stepped forward.

The wedding bands were an utter surprise to Rogue. Logan had told her that he would handle them, and she assumed that he had a surprise cooked up but with all the planning and frenzy preceeding the wedding, she'd forgotten.

Each ring was of two kinds of metal that swirled and melded together in random patterns, silver with gold, and were oddly, uniquely beautiful.

Marie cocked her head as he slid the unusual band onto her finger. “It’s gold, and adamantium,” he whispered.

A grin of delight lit Marie’s face. She loved this, to have something of him, and that the metal of his bones no longer had a purely negative meaning. Her joy filled him, and when she took his band from Essie, and slid it onto his finger, the circuit was complete.

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of New York and universal life church dot org, I declare you man and wife.”

Laughter and applause filled the night. Logan looked at Hank, who paused dramatically, then said “You may kiss the bride.”

Logan gave her a kiss that left her weak, dipped her down until her veil swept the ground. Then he pulled her back up, lifted Maggie with one strong arm, and they walked as a family back down the aisle, through a cascade of white rose petals.

The next hours were a whirlwind of which she remembered little, and of which he remembered everything: the rustling presence of her gown, of her scent next to him, of his mother at his side with Charles, of friends and family walking down the line to meet them. Every scent, every firefly that hovered on the grass, every movement Maggie made when running in happy circles around them, they were all indelibly imprinted on his mind, a happy time upon which he drew for the rest of his long life.

The guests moved to the tent near the maze where candles flickered at white-clad tables, lilies and hydrangea all around. They danced their first dance to Led Zeppelin's "Thank You," and then Scott raised his glass for a toast.

The crowd quieted and he spoke. "I'll never forget the first time I saw Rogue. She was a terrified kid. As a teacher, co-worker, and a friend I've had the privelige of watching her grow up into a strong, amazing, woman. I think it's appropriate and wonderful that she's committing herself to a man of equal strength, honor, and character. And I'm not just saying that because he used to hit on my wife." Everyone broke into laughter, Rogue and Logan included. "So tonight, I wish you the best for a long and happy life."

They raised their glasses, and drank deep.

Rogue danced until she was dizzy. Charles was the next to tap his glass and toast them. "I also remember the first time I saw Rogue. She was with Logan, and he had rescued her from a deadly cold night in the middle of nowhere. A lot of time has passed since then, and I must say I have never seen two people grow into individuals who complement each other more. It gives me great joy to see the two of you wed tonight. I'm wishing you the best of life together."

It was time to throw the bouquet. John was the DJ and he called all the single ladies up. Jubilee ushered every available female to the front, whether or not they wanted to go there, Mariah and Essie included. Mariah hovered uncomfortably near the side in her pale blue dress, feeling foolish and too old. Rogue raised her hands as the drum roll played, getting ready to throw the flowers back over her head.

But at the last minute she brought it down and tossed it under her shoulder to the side, where it bounced off of Mariah and hit the floor. It was clear that this was intentional, and when Rogue turned around to see Mariah reluctantly picking up the bouquet, she burst into delighted laughter.

After, John played a slow sweet song and Rogue went to where her husband sat smoking cigars with his best man. He looked up at her and again her beauty made him breathless, the silvery streaks in her hair, the ringlets cascading to her shoulders, the way the bodice of her dress clung to her skin. "Dance with me."

He did. He held her and danced with her and she said "I can't believe you're married, let alone to me."

"Why not?" he frowned.

"Oh, you know, the lone wolf thing."

"Naw. It was getting old. I think I'll keep you." She marveled that it was her who put the happy smile on his face.

"Oh, do you?"

"Yeah, I do." And he kissed her and they danced and the night seemed to swirl around them and last forever.

She kept her dress on, even after the guests left. She kicked off her heels and wandered with him barefoot on the grass, much like that summer night two years ago when they promised to give each other everything by the fountain.

Storm took Maggie inside and though they had a plane to catch in a few hours they wandered into the heart of the maze, and made love on the sweet-smelling grass. As he moved in her she felt as if she were at the bottom of a bowl-world, a whirling vortex world of soft moonlight and fireflies, skin and joy and soft cries. She held him to keep from falling though there was grass at her bare back, and the world spun and as she came and she thought bliss, bliss...