A Royal Arrival (My X-Men Fanfic)


Jul 29, 2006
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I've had this idea in my head for a while.

Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to have control over the X-Men, I don't. This is just a fan fic, so sit back and enjoy.

Summary: When Mystique acquires a mystical gem, chaos ensues. And things get worse when a greater, more powerful evil escapes into the world. And it wants revenge.

I suppose this is an AU, only because I've changed some of our friends histories and powers to fit better in the story.

I'll post it here in small parts, but it's also on fanfiction.net. My pen name there is the same, tking. If you have a peek there, please feel free to leave a review.

The first four chapters are posted there now. Also, this is my first fan fic. So please be nice. :)

Chapter 1

Lightning flashes in the distance, great thunder clouds roll, illuminating the grand fortress, poised on the cliff top.

And amid the punishing rain and blistering cold, two cloaked figures round the corner, staggering up the rocky pathway.

One of the figures lowers their hood to reveal a dark-haired woman, with gaunt skin and opaque eyes. Her name is Destiny, and she speaks with an almost apocalyptic tone.

“This is it,” she says to her companioning, gazing up at the castle. “We’ve found it.”

“’Bout time,” replies her friend. The second figure lowers its hood also. In this darkness, her dark complexion and blue skin almost go invisible. But her sharp, yellow eyes pierce the night, shining like torches. This is Mystique, her red hair beaming as if on fire. Her eyes spark with excitement, as she too studies the castle.

“You sure this is it?” Her question is answered with a slight nod from Destiny. Mystique smiles, a devilish grin. “Well… how ‘bout we go up there, and knock?”

The two women exchange smiles, and start to walk once more. They crawl up the jagged pathway, through the howling wind, towards the fortress, dominating the scenery with its harsh walls and stone towers.

It’s a masterpiece, in fact; an elaborate design of passageways and drawbridges. Overgrown ivy crawls eerily up its steep walls, reflecting in the moonlight.

As the women approach, they notice a gargoyle: a hideous dragon-like creature, carved from stone, bearing down at them like hawks.

Mystique just smiles at it and moves on. They reach the entrance, a large oak door, more than twice their height. Mystique feels the ancient wood, feels the rot seeping it after the years of wear, and feels the coldness of the material as the storm rages all around.

She clutches the rusty, metal door handles. She pulls, hard. The doors creak, and slowly open. A thick cloud of dust explodes from inside the castle.

The moonlight cuts inside the darkness, creating long slivers of silver across the dark floor. Destiny pokes her head inside, her breath coming out in short puffs.

“I think it’s colder in there than it is out here!” She stands in awe at the doorway, as Mystique passes and bravely walks through the threshold.

Mystique calls over her shoulder, “Are you going to stand there all day, darling. Or are we going to find this thing?”

Destiny follows, just as Mystique withdraws a torch from her cloak. She switches it on, and at once a beam of powerful light springs forth, exposing the many cobwebs scattered about.

It looks as if there hasn’t been anybody in here for centuries; the furniture’s colour has faded, the mantelpiece in the far corner is covered in dust and the stale air is hazy and thick from the many years of neglect.

“How could anybody live in this place?” Destiny questions.

“Maybe because they didn’t.” Mystique says, and darts her torch into a corner to their right.

Destiny follows the light’s trail, and, to her shock, inches away from her shoulder, is a skeleton! Crumbling and decaying, it rests against the wall. Destiny shrieks in horror, and staggers back.

“Irene, my dear… it’s just a skeleton.” Mystique smiles innocently at her. Poor Irene, she thinks. She’s never liked these sorts of places…

“Just a skeleton? It almost gave me a bloody heart ache, that’s what!” Destiny takes a moment to regain her steady breathing. Mystique heaves a sigh.

“Should we take a look upstairs?” she asks.

Destiny stares enviously at her. “Would you stay down here if I said, ‘no’”?

Mystique shrugs, then proceeds to climb the stairs. They creak with every step, reacting to the slightest of touches. Destiny follows.

As she makes her way to the top, Mystique examines the oil paintings that line the wall. There are various portraits and landscapes, depicting everything from military battles to Sunday picnics.

“Nice taste in art,” Mystique scoffs.

As they ascend the stairs, they notice the nearest doorway, where a light emanates. The door is wide open. A thick cobweb covers the entrance. Mystique wipes away the web, and enters the room. Destiny gulps, and follows directly behind.
Chapter 2

They enter a large, stone chamber – its windows are draped with blood-red curtains, doing little but collecting dust. The floor is adorned by a picturesque rug, made from the finest fur of some exotic animal. Lightning flashes past, momentarily revealing the furthest parts of the room.

Aligning the walls on either side of the chamber, are stone figures; about 10 feet high, they stand defiantly, wielding swords, maces, axes and other lethal weapons.

Mystique ventures further, the room seeming to go on for an eternity. It’s colder in here than any other part of the castle so far, and it’s showing. Destiny’s breath has risen to a rattle, almost impossible not to hear. She mutters to herself, but Mystique has other worries.

Her eyes dart to the centre of the room, about twenty feet away. A glisten in the dark – an amulet of some kind. Whatever it is, Mystique wants it bad, as she licks her lips feverishly.

“Wait here,” she adds coolly to Destiny, who nods obediently. Mystique creeps forth, her eyes transfixed on the amulet. She has walked about ten feet, when suddenly-

There is a loud groan! Mystique turns to see one of the stone soldiers, his sword raised above Destiny, ready to strike.

“Irene!” Mystique shouts wildly. Destiny turns in time. Her eyes widen in terror as the knight brings the sword crashing down… onto the stone floor.

Destiny catches her breath, after her split-second dive. She glares up at the knight’s barren expression, as he prepares to strike again.

But this time Mystique is prepared. She whips out a pair of pistols from within cloak.

“Back off, *****,” she says, and fires. A spray of bullets hit the stone creature, causing it to stagger back a little. But its skin is much too thick, and some of the bullets ricochet off in different directions.

Sensing that they’re doing no good, Mystique chucks her guns away in frustration.

“Irene! Move!” she calls. And with that, she charges at the knight. She leaps into the air, plunging at the warrior feet first. It is knocked off its feet, dropping its sword and tumbling. It lays motionless on the ground.

Mystique helps Destiny to her feet. “You were scared.”

“Too bloody right I was,” Destiny gasps. “It nearly had my head off.”

“But it didn’t,” Mystique taunts.

Destiny scoffs. “Yeah, just.” As Destiny brushes her self off, another noise catches the girls’ attention.

Mystique sighs. “There’s more of them right behind me aren’t there?”

Destiny nods, silently. She backs away into a corner. Mystique turns round and sees the nine remaining stone warriors, weapons drawn, staggering slowly towards her. Their heavy feet pound onto the floor, echoing like drums in a well.

Mystique just glares at them, and smiles. In an instant, she is upon the nearest of their attackers. She smacks its head, but recoils in pain. “Oww!”

“That hurt?” Destiny asks innocently.

Mystique scowls at her. “Of course it bloody hurts. You think I’m doing this for my health?!”

The figures keep advancing. Mystique thinks fast- she studies the room. Her gaze falls on a sword, hanging from the wall nearby. She grasps it quickly, holding it up. She admires its beauty as the handle radiates in the darkness, but just for a second, when an axe is swung at her head.

Mystique ducks, rolling across the stone feet. She regains her footing, turns and swings her own weapon. The arm of one of the stone warriors is cleaved in half. It drops its axe, and releases a primal groan. Mystique is almost deafened. She claps her hands to her eyes, accidentally dropping her guard. She notices her mistake. She gasps. And flies ten feet through the air, after a stone fist smacks her in the chest.

She hurtles through a bookcase, heavy volumes cascading onto her. She coughs.

Destiny rushes to her side, as the nine figures start their approach.

“Are you okay? Alright, stupid question. What are we gonna do?” Destiny looks on desperately for answers.

Mystique looks back over her shoulder, and sees the amulet a short distance away, resting on a cushion. Completely undisturbed.

“The amulet,” she says to Destiny. “Get the amulet!”

“What are you gonna do?”

Mystique winces in pain, but rises through it. “Rifle practice.”

Destiny is confused, but knows Mystique well enough not to challenge her orders. She rushes off towards the amulet, as Mystique rises to her feet.

She notices her pistols lying on the ground. She picks them up, aims high at the ceiling and releases a punishing volley of shots.

The ceiling is torn away, bits of stone and gravel falling fast. Exactly what she wanted. She keeps on firing, large pieces of rock crashing down onto the stone figures below. Soon, an entire slab is about to give way. Mystique readies herself, as the rock slips.

It plunges below… right onto the head of a knight. He falls to the side, the slab of ceiling pining him down. As he groans useless on the ground, the other eight creatures continue their approach.

“Raven! It’s not working!” Destiny calls. Mystique turns to see her friend, standing right by the amulet.

“What?” Mystique challenges.

Destiny reaches out for the amulet, but as she does a spray of purple light materialises, creating some form of shield around the amulet. A barrier.

Destiny indicating the shield with her head, “That”.

“Well- I’m kinda busy here, Irene… why don’t you- try… try a spell.” Mystique dodges another blow, and fires another shot into the mouth of the nearest knight.

Destiny shrugs. “I guess I could give it a go.”

“Wonderful!” Mystique says, rather harshly, in between side steeping a swing of a sword. She kicks out expertly, knocking the sword rattling onto the ground. She grabs the nearest curtain, and throws it over the unarmed knight. Then she kicks out again, knocking it over. It squirms futilely on the ground, squeaking a gravely mechanical sound.

Meanwhile, Destiny focuses on the amulet. She closes her eyes, and she starts to murmur. Suddenly, her hair starts to rise, flowing all around her as if gravity had stopped. Then her eyes snap open, a bright, fierce purple.

The murmuring rises to a chant, as she begins her spell. Just then, Mystique comes flying past. She crashes onto the ground. She looks down at the cut on her arm. After a few moments, her skin starts to shift… morph, even. New skin appears and covers the cut, almost as if it had never existed.

This night is turning out to be worse than Mystique ever could have thought. Things were supposed to be so easy… Always getting me into trouble, she thinks. Her visions have always been off, lately…

“I heard that,” Destiny snaps, while still in her trance. He goes back to her chanting.

Mystique ignores it, and rushes back past the amulet. She leaps at the nearest soldier, both feet crashing down onto his stone chest. But it’s pointless. Her boots don’t even graze it. She falls to the floor, as the remaining warriors tower over her.

But one of the warriors leaves its companions. Its sights fall on Destiny, who is too involved in her chant to notice. It moves towards her, an axe firmly in his grip. Mystique sees movement behind the giant trunk-like legs on her opponents. She looks out and sees the dawdling warrior, creeping up behind Destiny.

“No! Irene-No!” But it’s too late. The figure brings his axe sweeping down. Destiny screams in shock and pain, and falls to the ground with a thud, disappearing in the darkness. The axe man looks back, and returns to the other six figures, crowded around Mystique.

Mystique’s eyes are poised on the legs of Destiny, jutting out in the moonlight as the rest of her body is lost in the dark. Her breathing rises, her senses practically screaming at her. She can taste blood in her mouth, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s only artificial.

Her best friend, her only friend in this God-forsaken world… could be dead. Lying only metres away, the one person Mystique could ever trust… is gone. Forever.

And a new sensation erupts in her stomach. Something… she can’t quite describe. Burning, everlasting, rotting away… somewhat mysterious, but, in that moment, things have never been clearer to her.

The figures look on, almost as if intrigued by this mutant’s behaviour. Nevertheless, they have a job to do. They lift their weapons, all preparing to strike this woman down once and for all…

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