Chapter Text
All Illyana cares about is the white expanse in front of her. The shouts of the crowd, the blinding stadium lights, and the biting cold were nothing compared to the adrenaline of landing the tricks she’s spent blood, sweat, and, admittedly, tears, over the last year to perfect. She had one job, and that was to not fuck it up. She could hear Logan’s harumph if she so much as landed lopsided and did not want to deal with his disappointment. She ducks her head down to banish the thought and looks at her next obstacle.
The Slopestyle was her strongest event, a freestyle to showcase different tricks across various sections of a downhill course, and she was nearing the final portion: her final jump. She lowers her body close to her board to gain speed and when the time comes, launches herself off the lip of the mound and performs her signature trick, flashing her board and her callsign, Magik, to the onlookers in the crowd. When she hits the snow on a perfect landing, the crowd erupts as she boards down into the corral. There she saw the familiar faces of her coach and her brother, both with wide grins on their faces. Illyana slides up to the barrier and is wrapped up in Piotr’s embrace and Logan’s approving clap on her shoulder.
The entire event had been a blur, the other competitors making their runs and celebrating the perfect tricks and collectively groaning when one poor competitor landed wrong and tanked their run. She had scored the highest in the qualifiers, which meant she was the last athlete to hit the slope. This also meant trying to keep calm and keep tabs on what the other women were scoring with and what she needed to do to secure the win. It wasn’t easy, but with Logan’s calm demeanor and Piotr’s unrelenting support, she was always in the right head space when she set up for her runs. One thing leads to another, and she clinches first place. Not by a landslide, but not too close either. Just something to fuel her for the next competition.
The medals were handed out in their normal ceremony, calling third through first. Illyana watches from the waiting area as a new athlete, one she hadn’t seen or heard of before tonight taking 3rd place. She makes a mental note, cause this competitor was one to look after. If she hadn’t been sure Kitty would take 2nd place, watching the new athlete gave her worry for the future. Second place was called, and Kitty hopped up to the podium after a small and quiet celebration with Illyana and smiled wide for the cameras with her silver medal up to the world. Illyana felt a small pang in her stomach, but quashed it quickly as is routine when she’s around Kitty. She should’ve gotten over it by now, but old habits die hard, she guesses. She isn’t given much time to think about that anymore, however, as her name is called to fill the highest spot on the podium and to accept the gold medal.
This was her least favorite part, if she had to be honest. Illyana was never one for cameras and the spotlight. It was a part of the job though, so she played it. Doing just enough to show her gratitude, acknowledging the cameras when they were on her, and answering the questions with poise (even if she wanted to shut down the conversation every single time). While she never really cared for the attention, she was always sure to celebrate her competition on the podium and invite them to stand with her on the tallest one when she placed first. She is well aware of what it takes to get on the podium, and it is just not fair to separate them all by a few inches.
The ceremony ends as abruptly as it was called, and Illyana figures she should meet up with Logan and Piotr. She does a quick search for her tower of a brother but can’t find him- she instead is distracted by a shock of white hair towards the back of the crowd, and, with a grin splitting her face, bounds off the stage and pushes her way to the goddess-like woman standing tall over the rest of the athletes and onlookers. Ororo Munroe has been able to make it after all, and Illyana was not going to pass up the chance to talk to her greatest inspiration. When she was within arm’s reach, she melts into Ororo’s embrace as a daughter would a mother.
“Congratulations, Illyana. Didn’t I tell you that you were destined for greatness?” Ororo said into her hair. She smelled of petrichor, the tang in the air before the storm. Illyana never understood how she managed to be the embodiment of a summer storm, but now she was glad whenever it rained.
“If greatness is 1st at the regional level, then I guess I’m retiring tonight,” Illyana scoffs, though she is quite happy that Ororo was there. It had been too long since she’s stopped into practices, too long since her and Logan had another… disagreement. Ororo was far from it to punish anyone else, however, for her feelings towards Logan and always tried to show up for the ‘kids’, especially the Rasputins. “Besides, you make it sound like winning Olympic gold was just a side hustle for you.”
“Oh, please, Illyana. You know what I mean - this is the next step. Someday you’ll be wearing Olympic gold too, maybe even more than I achieved,” Ororo replies matter-of-factly. She looks Illyana up and down, then flicks her eyes just to the left and a flash of… contempt? Disdain? Flickers over her face, and she says a little bit louder, “Knowing your worth is the most important thing you can do to bolster your success, anyhow. I was good at what I set out to accomplish, and I still am.”
“Never one to sugar coat it, huh, ‘Ro?” a gruff voice fills Illyana’s ears as Logan and Piotr join the conversation. Piotr hands off Illyana’s board to its owner and goes to hug Ororo, who uses it to mask her eye roll at Logan’s comment. Not one to push the subject, Logan huffs and turns around and waves, pointedly making his way to the lodge, “See you all inside. Good job out there, snowflake. Next week is yours, but don’t be late to next practice.”
“Got it, boss,” Illyana calls out, watching him leave. She shoulders her board and makes to follow. Piotr and Ororo stand tall on either side of Illyana, acting as a slight barrier so they can make it to the lodge- Illyana is grateful they understand that she doesn’t want much interaction with strangers, though she does accept any compliments with a smile and nod of her head as they push through the crowd. The other events winners were still being announced, but she was starting to feel the pressure of the crowd and the need to look at the next competition. Even though she had the next week off, she’d be endlessly thinking about her performance and how to improve it. She also had the new athlete to look out for…
Finally pushing out of the crowd, the trio go for the service door at the back of the lodge to get into the lockers. There are only a handful of other people, athletes and coaches having hushed conversations, a few event employees moving dollies of food and drink for the guests. Once inside, Ororo and Piotr split off to meet in the lobby and grab something hot to drink. Though they were all used to the cold, it was especially biting tonight.
Locking up her board and putting away her heavy winter attire, Illyana makes her way through the back halls of the lodge to the kitchen, aiming to make a fresh pot of hot, black coffee. However, she hears someone… singing? It sounds like a warmup or practicing scales, but Illyana was surprised to find herself following it like a sailor to a siren. It was so unlike anything she expected to hear that she couldn’t resist seeing what it was. As she neared the door, she remembered there was supposed to be live entertainment tonight, but she hadn’t cared to see who it was given the circumstances. As she turned the corner to one of the many guest rooms, she saw a woman with split hair standing in front of a makeshift vanity resting a hand on her stomach while she expertly ran through her scales. As an athlete, Illyana could appreciate the care and control the woman had over her form and could tell this was second nature to her. She also had no qualms that she was severely underdressed compared to the woman; while she was still in her sweats after the competition and her hair was frazzled from the helmet, the woman had on a gorgeous white and blue dress that sparkled under the vanity lights and her hair was done in a simple but elegant updo. The woman caught Illyana’s eyes from the mirror with a small look of shock on her face, her mouth slightly open in an ‘o’ before she composes herself in the blink of an eye.
“Sorry to disturb your warmups, but I had to check out the singing. Not something I hear very often in the lodge.” Illyana catches herself saying. She leans comfortably on the doorframe and crosses her arms. She had no idea why she was leaning into a conversation with this woman but feels compelled all the same. The woman straightens up and turns toward the doorway, making small but hurried steps to get in Illyana’s face and block her from the room. This pushes Illyana to straighten up herself, only to find the other woman has an inch or two on her, what with the heels and the hair. She’s a little shocked that she even cares about that, as she’s not new to being shorter than many of her friends and family. A stream of words is coming out hushed from the singers’ mouth, but in a language Illyana certainly doesn’t understand. She thinks it sounds like Korean, but before she can decide that it is, the woman is firmly planted in her face and pointing off down the hallway.
“I hate to be this person, but you need to go. Especially before my manager comes by. She will be way less forgiving than I will be. So, chop chop,” the woman says with a sort of panicked state about her. Illyana stands dumbstruck for a second. She thought she did a great job of initiating conversation, and here she is being thrown out like a dog. Guess that’s karma for not participating in paparazzi events, she thinks to herself before it dawns on her that there very much could be paps stalking the halls. She of course lives in the lodge and knows every nook and cranny (and feels entitled to go wherever), but for a guest as big as this singer seems to be who knows where anybody could be hiding?
“I don’t need any other headlines, just the ones to promote my anniversary, and to announce this new song, and…” the woman trails off, having dropped her hand to fidget with it, trying hard, Illyana could tell, to not pick at her cuticles on her perfectly manicured nails. Illyana throws her hands up in surrender and takes a step back into the hallway, content to go back to her coffee, but a small voice in her head stops her in her tracks. Give her advice, dumbass. Do something! The woman has turned around by now, heading back to her vanity, when Illyana calls out, “The thing that works best for me to calm my nerves is to think about an embarrassing moment of my brothers’. There was one time he was trying new skates on the pond, but his laces got tied up together and he fell flat on his face. I laughed till I cried and then some. I still tease him about it, and he still gets red in the face!”
The singer stops in her tracks, halfway to the vanity, and looks over her shoulder with a confused face, but she cleans it up as quickly as she did her surprise earlier when she caught Illyana in the doorway. “Thanks, but I’m not new to this sort of stuff. It’s just… this is a big event for my career, and I need it to go perfectly. And unfortunately for you, that means no private sessions. Even if you won gold tonight,” she looks pointedly at Illyana’s medal hanging from her neck. A quick flick of her eyes upwards and a small flare to her nostrils and Illyana realizes she’s in big trouble, namely cause she didn’t hear the extra footsteps behind her, and because firm hands hook under her armpits (which were completely up for grabs with her hands still up) and she is uncomfortably moved like a ragdoll further back into the hallway. In complete shock, she hardly has time to turn around and see the rest of that massive figure shut the door on her. What the fuck, she thinks to herself. Must be that manager she mentioned…
With no other choice but to go somewhere else, Illyana heads back to the kitchen, thankfully, to a freshly brewed pot of coffee. She’d need a cup (or two) to help clear her mind from that incredibly weird encounter, but she can’t stop thinking about the woman. Who is she, and why was she so freaked out about her manager? The only answers Illyana could come up with were to stick around for the show, which is precisely what she did not want to do, but she was intrigued and there is no force that could stop her from getting what she wanted. She was also trying to wrack her brain for anything to recall who was performing tonight, but she couldn’t come up with a name for the life of her. She sighs, downs her coffee, and rushes upstairs to pull herself together. It seems she finally attends a post-performance event tonight, and she would never hear the end of it from Kitty, Jean, and Emma if she goes out looking like, well, she just finished whipping down the side of a mountain.