Kurt and Amanda in London

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They meet in a pub and talk things over. It goes reasonably well.



Wanda had offered to mediate, and Pete had offered to be there as well, but in the end, Amanda had decided that if she was going to do this, best to do it without hassle. Besides, Wagner was a wuss - she could handle herself with him. So there she was, sitting in a corner in the small inner-city pub she'd picked, steadying her nerves with a pint and reflecting how bartenders here never asked her for ID.

Kurt arrived shortly afterwards, wearing the image inducer whose description he'd sent her earlier, and made his way to her corner. "Hello, Amanda."

"Hey," she said shortly, but not entirely rude - she had arranged this, after all. "What're you drinkin'?"

He considered, torn between remaining completely sober and settling his nerves the way she was, then decided on the latter. "A beer, please, whatever brand that is", he replied, sitting down.

"Back in a tick" Amanda headed over to the bar, returning with a pint of London Pride. The pub was almost deserted, the usual customers off recovering after Christmas and the New Year. "I've had time t' think," she said, sliding back into her seat after setting the beer down in front of him. "An' Wanda's given me all the stuff she came up with. So I s'pose all there is now is for you t' give me yer side of the story." 'Convince me I'm wrong," her expression challenged him.

He nodded, trying to decide where to start. "The one thing that repeats, for both of us", he said slowly, "is that Rack was a liar and a deceiver, and that he was very good at it. When he took you from us... he came in the guise of a social worker, with everything he needed to support the deception."

"Usual thing, was it? Social workers takin' kids from yer family?" she asked. "I knew more 'n a few like that in the Children's Home, an' there was always a reason why that happened. Usually 'cause the kid was in danger."

"Not usual, but it was known to happen. Certain local authorities were of the opinion that the travelling lifestyle was inherently unsuitable, and perhaps dangerous, for children. It was usually the very young ones, like you, who were removed. Those who were young enough that they would not entirely realize what was happening, and could be more easily assimilated into their new lives."

That made sense, and Wanda had something similar... Lighting a cigarette, Amanda drew on it thoughtfully, considering the man in front of her. The face wasn't his, she knew that, but there was nothing of her in the man beneath - he might as well be a stranger, for all his claim of family. The only thing they had in common were the scars, and those were completely different things. "So, Rack dressed up in a suit an' waved some paperwork at yer family an' they let him go on his merry way?"

"In a manner of speaking. He had forged identification, he had all the right papers - and remember, the clan had seen such papers before - and if he had been who he said he was, defying him would have done nothing but bring the authorities down in more force. The only way to fight legal removals is through legal channels. And that is what my mother tried to do, at first. Until she was informed that you had not been legally removed."

"An' how long was it before she gave up after that?" Harsh, probably, but nine years of living with Rack was a hell of a lot to forgive. "Did she turn around after bein' told the government didn't have a clue an' just go home an' write me off as one of those things?"

He looked at her levelly. "No. She has some magic of her own, though not as much as you or probably Romany or, I believe, Rack. She tried every means she knew to find someone through magic, every day for years. All failed - or were blocked. Can you blame her for losing hope, after seven years of failure?"

"Sure I can." Amanda's voice was hard, but her expression anything but - it was if this conversation was resurrecting every childhood trauma, every lost hope that someone, somehow, would come and find her. "Nine years, Wagner. Nine fuckin' years with that bastard, havin' him do whatever the fuck he liked. I used t' tell meself stories of a night, 'bout how my real family would come an' get me one day, t' tell meself that what Rack was wrong, a lie. I wanted more 'n anythin' for him t' be lyin'." Her voice cracked a little, and she breathed heavily through her nose, desperate not to cry. Not in front of this man. "I must've been about six when I stopped doin' that. When I gave up hope that anyone was gunna come for me." Taking a long, deliberate swallow of beer, she went on, control back. "So, you tell me - what d'you expect of me, now yer've finally found me? T' welcome me back t' the arms of me family, pretend nothin' ever happened? 'Cause that's not gunna happen. They're strangers - I don't know them. An' they don't know me."

"He was lying", Kurt reiterated quietly, his voice cracking on the next words. "And do you think we would not have come for you, had we had any idea where you were? Had the locating spells not failed, time after time after time? I was eleven years old when you were taken, Amanda. Do you think you were not missed?" He sighed. "And I expect nothing more of you than you are willing to give. I have not yet told the family that I have found you, and if you would prefer me not to, I will not."

"I don't know what t' think!" Amanda retorted. "I don't know you! All I remember is the smell of horses an' smoke an' a bit of a language I only found out was Romany when you told me it was at Stonewall. So how would I know whether I was missed or not? I got told I was only worth what my power could do, an' that's why I was with Rack. I believed it 'cause I had t' believe it. I had t' put any thought that things should be different away from me, otherwise I would've ended up killin' meself by the time I was ten, 'cause I couldn't have stood it! Bad enough what I went through - knowin' there was a family out there that wanted me an' couldn't get me out would've killed me." She hunched inwards on herself, appearing smaller than she was in the bulky winter clothes. "'M sorry. I don't... I don't know how t' react, what t' want," she continued, softly, sounding much younger. "There's just so bloody much."

"Take your time", he told her gently. "As long as you need to get your thoughts in order. As I said, I will not tell the others I have found you without your permission. If you so choose, you need not meet them, though I will not say I would not like you to."

"You wouldn't? But that's..." Amanda frowned as she considered this. If they really cared that much, wouldn't it mean they'd be upset at finding out it had been kept a secret? "That's not fair," she said at last. "They should know. An' I'm not a coward."

He nodded. "I was hoping you would feel that way. I will let them know, then, as soon as I return to the mansion."

"That works, I s'pose." Amanda was quiet for a long moment, watching the smoke spiral up from her neglected cigarette. "What... what're they like? An' how many of 'em are there? I mean, I've got parents, yeah, but what about the rest? Brothers an' sisters an' the like?" Curiosity had won out over hostility - she wasn't backing down, not entirely, but she had a right to know about these people. "Wanda told me my family name, an' that you were adopted by 'em, but that was about all she got a chance t' say before I stormed off."

"One brother, and one sister who never met you. Stefan and Jimaine. As for what they are like... Amanda, I should tell you now... our father died some years ago..."

"Oh." Amanda felt a pang at the thought, which was weird, since as she'd said, she didn't know these people. So why should she care her father was dead? "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"A heart attack. It seems he had a condition we were not aware of, and he simply did not wake up one morning."

"Oh," Amanda said again. So much to take in. Her father. A brother and a sister. Plus Kurt himself... "And my.. the mother? What's her name? What's she like?"

"Her name is Margali Szardos. And she... I have always considered her a fine woman. She has been running the clan single-handed since our... my father died, and did a lot of it even before that."

Well, what Kurt considered a fine woman was suspicious, to say the least. Probably there were Bible readings and hymns involved. But she had the name now, and the names of the rest of the family, which meant she could do some research of her own. Or at least ask Romany what she knew of the Szardos family. "An' she knows magic, yeah?" she asked, still guarded but a lot less hostile than before. "You said somethin' 'bout location spells."

Kurt noticed the change and was glad of it. "She has some magic, yes. Mainly the location spells and some minor healing."

"She never... she never used me for that stuff?" Amanda asked, almost casually now. Wagner would probably not understand what she was getting at, about the use of her power to fuel others' magical capabilities, but she needed to ask. "Taught me the Craft an' the like?"

He shook his head firmly. "No. You were two years old when we last saw you, Amanda. Barely old enough to speak, let alone to learn the Craft."

"True enough - even Rack waited 'til I was five before he started in on me." She said the name deliberately, reminding him exactly of what she had gone through. "Did she know? About me power? Did any of you?"

He looked at her sadly. "I think she must have done. And she would have started training you, in time, but not as young as Rack did. I did not know at the time."

"Would she? Have waited, I mean. Rack brought me power on - it wasn't s'posed t' come out until I hit me teens, same as the rest of 'em at the school, mostly. 'S a long time t' wait around for yer power source t' kick in."

"You were not her power source, Amanda. Please believe that. You were her daughter."

"Rack said as much, that he was my family since mine didn't want me. Told me no-one would love me like he did - how am I s'posed t' react, Wagner? Rom an' her people, an' Strange are the only magic users I've ever met who didn't think of me as their happy little mystic battery." Bitterness laced Amanda's words. "An' yer tellin' me Margali's different, just 'cause she's my mother? How does bein' born t' someone make anythin' different? 'S not like she got t' choose the sort of daughter she wanted, not like the family I have now."

"And how many magic users have you met who were not associated with either Romany or Rack, Amanda?" he asked quietly. "I am not asking you to believe she is different just because she is your mother. I am asking you to believe she is not what Rack told you."

"It's not just what Rack told me. You wanna know what happened t' me in Asgard? I got adopted by this woman callin' herself the Enchantress. She put the whammy on me, made me think she was my mother, the whole deal. An' you wanna know how it worked so well? 'Cause I wanted it t' be true. I wanted, more 'n anythin', t' believe that she was my mother, that she loved me the way a mother's s'posed to. Only it was a lie, same as everythin' else." Amanda stubbed out her cigarette almost angrily. "Maybe I haven't met that many magic users, but there's a reason for that. Rom an' Strange, they try an' keep me away. Too much temptation in one place, you see. An' all I know from what you tell me is this Margali's a small-time magic user an' I ain't goin' anywhere near her until Rom gives me the all-clear."

"That is your decision, and it is your right to make it. If and when you want to meet her, I will take you there happily, with whoever else you choose to bring."

"Too bloody right it is." Finishing her beer, Amanda rose. She had heard enough, for now. Enough to go on. And Wagner was as maddeningly reasonable as always. "Tell me, Wagner, doesn't anythin' ever get yer goat? Or are you too saintly t' feel like the rest of us?" She couldn't help the dig - there was a small, nasty voice inside her that said he couldn't possibly care that much if he was going to just sit back and let her call the shots like this, without even trying to change her mind.

He looked at her levelly. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that because I do not show it, I do not feel, Amanda. If you must know, I learned to stay calm a long time ago because it helped me take the things that come with looking as I do. I have only had access to image inducers for less than two years, remember. And for now... I sincerely hope you choose to come back to the camp with me and meet them. But I will not try to force your hand."

Amanda felt a sudden shame, her cheeks growing hot. "I... shouldn't have said that," she said, unable to meet his eyes. "'S just... not the way I do things, an' 's aggravatin', havin' you be so bloody calm an' reasonable at me. I'll get back t' you, 'bout the rest of it. Thanks for... comin' t' talk. Say hello t' Wanda for me, yeah?" She collected her things, preparing to beat a hasty retreat. Taking shots at Kurt made her feel like a bully.

He nodded. "I will. Safe travelling."