xp_logs | Hungary, a memorial and dinner

After the memorial, Nathan and Jean share a quiet moment overlooking one of Budapest's more historic sites.

They'd left the kids to explore after the memorial, which was only fair. Margaret Island was home to a number of historical sites - some dating back to the twelfth century. It also served to give their chaperones a little time to decompress from the memorial, which was also only fair. It had been beautiful, Nathan thought absently, but harder than he'd thought.

"It's a Premonstratensian church," he said to the person who had appeared at his side a few minutes ago. "The ruins, I mean," he said, gesturing to them. "Probably one of the oldest things on the island."

Jean nodded, not saying anything. She'd settled against a rock and was watching Nate as much as the scenery.

"I miss Europe, you know. The history everywhere you look..." Nathan leaned back against a handy tree, folding his arms across his chest. He knew Jean was watching him, probably waiting for him to volunteer... something. "I should learn Magyar. It's an interesting language."

"I like all the space back home," she said after a moment. "Particularly after living in Canada. Europe's beautiful, but everything feels so... contained. Constrained. Small."

"You should see the steppes. In Kazakhstan, especially. More room than anyone could know what to do with." Nathan tilted his head, gazing at the ruins. "Did I tell you we started on construction at the beginning of the month? Reconstruction, rather. In Tel Aviv, I mean." He paused. "Wow, listen to me."

She couldn't help smiling faintly at the over-clarification. "I'd heard, yes. How's it going?"

"They've cleared all the debris, and have the foundations laid. We're making some changes," Nathan said with a slightly wan smile. "Setting it back from the street a little, other anti-suicide-bombing measures... we figured it was prudent."

"It does make sense," Jean agreed. She paused a moment, then said, "I'm glad there didn't end up being any copycats at this." The extra security hadn't been obtrusive, but it was obvious to anyone who knew what they were looking for.

"Yes, well. Had anyone tried anything, they wouldn't have needed that idiot Sri Lankan to turn them into bombs. I would have done that. Except that it would have been specific internal organs that exploded, ones that would have made sure they died in a whole lot of pain." There was a definite chill in Nathan's voice, not at all directed at Jean.

"Of course." Jean's voice was perfectly level, but she watched Nathan's back with a definite sense of worry in her eyes. "They wouldn't have gotten anywhere, but it would have been... disruptive."

Nathan took a deep breath and then let it out. "I need to settle down," he said more evenly, "or I'm going to be terrible dinner company tonight." He looked back at her. "I'm fine, Jean," he said, registering the worry in her eyes. "Just brought back memories of February, and being me, I have a lot of leftover anger."

"No one could blame you for that," she said, shrugging lightly. "Although they may if you bring down the dinner atmosphere, yes. Anything I can do to help?"

"Talk the Fates into giving us some time off this spring?" He gave a low laugh, shrugging his shoulders. "Just seems like it's one thing after another so far in 2007." He rubbed at the shoulder that had been dislocated in Mexico; at least he'd gotten rid of the damned sling, although it was still sore on and off.

"When is it not?" she asked rhetorically. "The real secret, I've discovered, is running away to Tibet. Charles was right."

"I'm a little disturbed by how appealing that is." Nathan's expression was smoothing out, though, the tension in his posture draining away. It was a beautiful day, in beautiful surroundings. "I'm glad we came. Last time I was in Budapest I didn't get to do any sightseeing at all. Too busy being knocked off buildings with coatracks." The smile was crooked, but real.

Jean snorted at that, but she smiled at his slow relaxing. "Yeah, you need to stop getting hit with things. People throw things at you and throw Scott into things, and I disapprove of both."

"I'm sure Moira would agree with you. She kept going 'A bridge?' at me every so often for oh, about two weeks after our last trip to Russia." He eyed Jean in something close to amusement. "Speaking of dinner... I'm guessing Charles told you what he told me, about what Barath's contemplating this weekend."

Her smiled widened into something approaching a full on grin. "He did indeed. I'm looking forward to it."

"We live in momentous times," Nathan mused. "I haven't mentioned it to any of the others. Charles said he hadn't made a final decision as of last week, and you have to admit - it would be one hell of an amazing surprise."

"It'd be a step, an amazing step. I'm so hoping he accepts."

"If he does, this may turn into one of those weekends I write poetry about," Nathan said, almost whimsically, but his expression turned serious again. "It may anyway," he murmured, staring at the ruins.

"You're brooding," Jean informed him, as if he didn't know. "I'll admit, this is certainly an excellent locale, and you have plenty of reason to brood but I just thought I'd point it out. You're brooding."

The crooked smile came back. "It's the ruins," he said, waving a hand at them. "Shall we move on? I hear there are entirely intact historical sites to see on the island."

She laughed lightly. "Yes, let's go find some of those."

--

Later, after dinner at Barath's house, several mutants share a moment in the garden, on the eve of history.

The view of the Danube from Barath's backyard was really something else, Nathan reflected, sitting on a stone bench between two rosebushes and staring contemplatively at the lights on the river as he sipped at a glass of wine. He'd stepped out for some fresh air; as large as Barath's house was, the ground floor was filled to bursting with all the visitors and Barath's own extensive family. It had turned into quite the evening, really. Nathan smiled slightly, wondering how many of the people he'd brought with him would look back on tonight, twenty years from now, and reflect on how they'd been there on the eve of history.

"I will miss this house," came Barath's unmistakable voice from behind him. Nathan glanced back over his shoulder at the older man, noticing that he was still sticking to water, just as he'd done at dinner. Made sense, given his plans for the morning. "The official residence is lovely, but this has been my family home for generations. I imagine Aliz and I will return here in a few years. When I retire."

"You're planning to retire?" Nathan asked, his lips twitching.

Barath shot him an amused look. "There are retirements and there are retirements, Nathan."

"Mmm. So I'm told." Nathan sipped at his wine again to cover the smile. "So," he said, "I gather your party's coalition has enough votes to ensure you're elected in the morning." The way in which the Hungarians chose their Prime Minister was interesting; the candidate, or candidates, were named by the non-partisan President, and elected by a majority of the members of the National Assembly. "Foregone conclusion, then?"

"Barring unforeseen events... yes." Barath sank down on the bench beside him, giving a sigh almost of contentment as he gazed out at the Danube. "I confess to a certain amount of trepidation," he said, not sounding like he was particularly fearful. "The press alone will be a handful."

A noise from the doorway caught both men's attention. Forge stood there, outlined in the light from the house, with a somewhat sheepish look on his face. "Well," he proclaimed, "it seems I'm not the only one looking for a little fresh air. Evening, Mr. D., Minister Barath. Oh, sorry. I don't know if we've been introduced. John Forge, I'm a colleague of Nathan's. From the school, not Elpis, my political leanings tend a bit more towards the domestic." He extended a hand to the Hungarian minister, oblivious to any appropriate protocols on how to properly introduce oneself to a foreign dignitary. After all, if it had been important, they would have given them an instruction sheet or something.

"Mr. Forge," Barath said gravely, although there was more than a hint of a smile in his eyes as he shook Forge's hand. "It's a pleasure to properly meet you. Charles has mentioned you numerous times, and of course, I'm aware of HeliX. Very fine work there, young man."

Forge blinked, somewhat humbled by the older man's acknowledgement. "Thank you, sir. It's a fine home you have here. Although," he looked at the flute of grape juice in his hand, "do you know how hard it is to tell regular juice from red wine by sight? I could almost wind up an accidental alcoholic by the end of the evening at this rate."

For her part, Yvette had slipped out earlier, finding all the people a little overwhelming. Now, coming back towards the door to try and be social again, she paused at the little group. For a moment she was inclined to remain where she was, hidden by the shadows, except for the glow of her eyes.

Nathan blinked and peered at the hedge, sensing Yvette's presence before he spotted the telltale eye-glow. "Yvette, come out and meet the Minister," he said lightly. He'd wondered where she'd gotten to; it had been a bit crowded inside for her, he supposed.

Barath looked startled, then glanced in the direction Nathan was looking, with a smile that was first surprised, then pleased. "Yes, please do, my dear," he said warmly. "I've been a very poor host tonight, not meeting all my guests..."

There was a brief shuttering of that blue glow as Yvette blinked in surprise, and then the small Albanian girl came out. "I am just being getting the fresh air..." she explained shyly, approaching the bench. "I am not meaning to be... how you say? Lurking?" Then, summoning her courage, she looked up at the Minister. "It is good to be meeting you, sir," she offered, reflexively making sure her glove was secure before offering a long taloned hand to him to shake. Manners were important.

"Very good to meet you as well, Yvette," Barath said, far less gravely than he'd greeted Forge, with a gentleness that would have put even the shyest youngster at ease. "I hope you have been enjoying yourself this evening. I certainly have been - I so enjoy a house full of guests." He looked up and laughed. "And it appears we're having quite the gathering out there. Too fine a night to be indoors, it seems."

"Indeed it is Minister Barath," Medusa said as she joined the group. Having spent the last hour talking to Barath's wife, she had excused herself as the topic turned from politics to other matters and made her way outside to steal a quiet moment. With the growing number of people, she realized her chance at a quiet moment was not going to be possible, but far be it from the redheaded Attilani to turn down an opportunity for further networking. "It is always a pleasure to see you," she said, extending her hand gracefully to shake the minister's.

"Likewise, Lady Medusalith," Barath said, the hint of a twinkle in his eye as he shook her hand. "It was a sincere pleasure to hear that both you and your sister would be gracing us with your presence on this trip."

"We were both honored to have the invitation extended to us," Medusa replied, her face composed into the small, neutral smile she reserved for political settings. "It is always a joy to further the friendship between our two countries."

Forge cleared his throat before taking a sip of his drink and subtly holding up three fingers. Looking down at Yvette, he shrugged and added a fourth, then laughed. "Sorry, all of the politicking sometimes goes right over my head. Lady Medusa, however, does make a good point. With Attilan and Hungary being rather strong voices for mutant rights in the European Union, I believe things are going to start really looking up in the future."

Nathan exchanged a look with Barath, raising an eyebrow. The older man smiled slightly, before his gaze shifted to Forge. "Perhaps even stronger than you think," he said. "I can only hope that the future you speak of will come sooner, rather than later. I certainly intend to do all I can to ensure that."

Nathan gave a low laugh. "You should tell them," he said. "They're really rather good at keeping secrets. Remember where they live."

Barath chuckled reflectively, sipping from his water glass. "Well, then," he mused. "Perhaps I should." He took a deep breath. "Our Prime Minister is resigning as of midnight tonight," he said, "due to ill health. Tomorrow morning, the President of the Republic will present my name to the National Assembly. They will vote, and it is very likely that by noon tomorrow, I will be responsible for leading our government, rather than my ministry."

Everyone was silent for a moment to let that sink in, until Forge spoke first. "Wait, whoa. Prime Minister? Awesome! I mean, that's... um... congratulations, sir. Wow."

"A mutant to be prime minister is being not happening before," Yvette said quietly, her tone wondering. "And to be happening now, when there are so many things that have happened... It is being a very important thing." Her grasp on the region's politics was perhaps better than American students her age of their own. "It is to be showing that to be a mutant is not a bad thing."

Medusa's silence had been due more to her own political wheels turning rather than allowing the news to sink in. "Never an individual who was openly a mutant at least," Medusa said. "The world's reaction to the news will be very telling."

"There will be opposition elsewhere," Barath allowed, "perhaps a great deal of it. But I think perhaps it is time to take such risks," he said, more firmly. "Those of us dedicated to peaceful coexistence between mutants and baseline humans have perhaps been spending too much time living our beliefs and not enough time sharing them. The extremists on both sides receive, how do you say, more of the spotlight."

Nathan was gazing pensively down into his wine glass, remembering certain bitter comments he'd made to the effect of people believing that 'the only good telepath is a telepath you've forgotten can read your mind'. "There's a difference between assimilation and integration," he murmured.

Barath raised an eyebrow. "Precisely," he said. "Or for a more fanciful metaphor, you can live in harmony without singing the same song."

"I may have to quote you on that," Forge said, raising his glass. "But for the moment, I'm glad to be among the first to toast Hungary's new Prime Minister."

Yvette had no glass, but she clasped her hands together, eyes glowing so bright they almost lit up the area they were grouped in. "This is the very fine thing, yes," she agreed.

Nathan smiled at her, then raised his glass. "May you accomplish everything you want to accomplish and find yourself only occasionally at the mercy of distasteful necessity," he said wryly. Barath just laughed.

Medusa was the last to raise her glass, one eyebrow arching upwards at Nathan's toast. Once they'd clinked glasses, she took a small sip of the wine. As she lowered her glass, she watched the ruby liquid shift in the glass. "Though I am sure you will soon be swimming in invitations, on behalf of Attilan I would like to invite you to join the council and royal family for a dinner." Looking up, her lips twitched slightly upward. "And I promise that will be last of my politicking for the evening."

"Well, there's two wondrous occurrences in rapid succession, then," Forge said with a sly smile to Medusa. "I was thinking that with all the polite handshakes and networking you were doing in there that either you were running for office yourself or planning the world's most polite invasion."

"Or perhaps both?" Medusa said, her lips twitching slightly to accompany the sway of her hair. "Though I do not think I have been the only one to take advantage of this rather impressive gathering of individuals to engage in a little networking," Medusa said, tilting her head slightly with a rather pointed look at Forge.

Forge blushed slightly, raising his glass a fraction to the Attilani. "Touché," he murmured. Looking over to Barath, he cocked his head in interest. "Given the events of this weekend, what are we likely to expect with your nomination tomorrow?"

"I only wish I could be certain. I must admit, the proximity of the memorial to the nomination - it may be interpreted in a number of ways," Barath said almost pensively, sipping at his water. "Perhaps in ways we did not intend. But I was willing to take that chance, for what it does say." For a moment he looked very tired. "I have spent the last two months telling every audience that would listen that we will not turn from our course. That we are not afraid. We shall see if the National Assembly wishes to send the same message. My party's coalition has enough votes to see me elected, but what happens beyond that..."

"There is to be the hard work ahead, yes," Yvette said quietly, reaching out to touch Barath's arm, however briefly, in one of her rare physical gestures. "But I am thinking you are being the very good Prime Minister, Mr. Barath."

He blinked, then gave her a warm smile, the sort of smile he had turned on his horde of grandchildren earlier in the evening, rather than a politician's smile. "Thank you, Yvette," he said. "That means a great deal."

Nathan just watched the interplay between Barath and the three young people, storing away each and every detail of this conversation in the garden. He had seen a lot of change, these last few years, been there more than once when the world had changed to one extent or another. As moments of transition went, this one was surprisingly peaceful.

Tomorrow would be a brand new day. And he couldn't wait to see it.