Fic: True North - 1/1 - Rogue
- Title: True North
Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
Summary: "I decorated my bedroom with a huge map of North America, and
dreamt of traveling somewhere, anywhere."
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of
fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
Archive: Lists, Muse's Fool, anyone who's already got my stuff.
Otherwise, just ask.
Feedback: Makes my day.
Notes: Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete. You guys make it fun even when
Special Thanks to Tori Morris, whose West Wing fic "Cartography"
inspired me to write my own map story. You can find her story, which is
beautifully written, at
again for letting me borrow your idea. You rock! <g>
I've always been fascinated by maps. Even as a child, before I could
read, I drew maps of a fantastic country called Lanai. I invented my own
language -- Lanaian -- that I spoke with the invisible people who lived
When I got a little older, I was embarrassed that my promised land, my
Shangri-La, was named after a Hawaiian veranda.
But the allure of maps remained.
I pored over my geography textbooks and the atlases my father bought. I
decorated my bedroom with a huge map of North America, and dreamt of
traveling somewhere, anywhere.
After watching a National Geographic special on the research and
monitoring of wolves in Denali National Park, I saw that my paradise
existed in the pristine, snow-covered tundra of Alaska.
I read everything I could get my hands on. I marked cities along the
route I mapped out with pushpins -- Niagara Falls, west through the
Canadian Rockies, and then north to Anchorage. I revealed my ambition to
only a few, those I felt wouldn't laugh at the little girl from
Mississippi who dreamt of glaciers and frost.
Of course, life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you want, in
absolutely the worst way possible.
When I was on the road after what happened with David, I lived by that
map -- not that exact one, but a Hagstrom road atlas I slipped out of my
dad's desk before I left. That map took me all the way to Laughlin City,
Alberta -- the place where I found my true home -- before bringing me
back to Westchester.
I share a room with a bunch of other girls now, but not one of them
protested -- not to my face, anyway -- the day I took down their boy
band posters and covered one wall with a map of North America.
I marked the places I'd been with little green pins; the places I have
yet to visit are picked out in blue. And most importantly, the places
Logan writes from are marked in red.
Surprising everyone but me, the first letter arrived less than a week
after he left. It didn't say much, just, "Hope those geeks are treating
you right, kid. If not, I'll come back and kick their asses." It was
signed simply, "Logan," and postmarked Minneapolis.
Some of the towns he writes from are so small they're not even on the
map, which now has a string of red pins marking the progress of his
search for his past.
I know that one day, the road will lead him back to me. I don't know yet
where or when, but he is my true north, and as long as he's in my life,
I will never be lost.
A/N: For more information about wolves in Denali, go here:
For information about Denali National Park, go here:
I don't know if there's an actual National Geographic special dedicated
to this topic, but it wouldn't surprise me. <g>
Also, I have no idea why Marie planned to go east to Niagara Falls
before heading west to Anchorage, but that's what she said, so we're
kind of stuck with it, huh.
"Screw the dead. What have their moldering asses ever done for me?" Mike
Kellerman, _Homicide: Life on the Street_
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