Disclaimer: The song is from Aida, so credit to Disney. Well, it was. Except for some insane reason even a disclaimer is no longer enough for this site. If you want the song, look it up online. Most charaters are owned by Marvel, Fox, Warner Brothers, Universal, etc. etc. Why can't I? Look! They'll work for twinkies and beer! It's true! They did this fic for twinkies and beer. Although I had to throw in a few steaks and peeps somewhere...

Author's Notes: I tried to make it not exactly like Cameron's movie! But some things kinda snuck in there and stuck. Be prepared for suckiness! (that even a word?) Big shout out and thanks to my best friend JenN who unknowingly gave be ideas and knowingly gave me every ounce of support she could.

Written in the Stars

Prologue:

Sometimes, two souls are joined in eternal bliss. No matter how long the physical life may last, how little time they spend together on this earth, they shall be reborn and start the never-ending journey once more. Always seeking one another out, and always finding it despite the trials and perils that are thrown in their way.

No matter how impossible the odds, or how dire the circumstances, these two souls always prevail and emerge from the rubble victorious as one.

These souls make up the brightest stars in our sky, shining brightly in their splendor to guide the paths of those on the Earth. Through whatever fate is chosen of them, they will always be there.

April 12th, 1912
5:38pm

Cold wind whipped at her auburn hair with the white streak. Sun shown upon her young, childlike face, warming it against the cool breath of air. It was beautiful.

So she had imagined.

But as usual, she was cooped up in her room. Not allowed to leave except for meals. She was used to those sort of restrictions. Her poor blind mother needed her after all, while her father disappeared on business. She hardly knew her father. He would disappear for weeks or months at a time, then show for a day, perhaps two. Now on board the R.M.S. Titanic, he still found ways to disappear for hours at a time.

Marie Darkholme stood with her back to one of their maids while her corset was laced up. It was almost time for dinner, so she had to get ready. In another room, she knew her mother was getting suited with help from other maids.

Her family was rich, that was how they could afford one of the most expensive suites on the most luxurious ship in the world. A small smile spread across her lips as Marie heard her mother arguing with the maids.

"I told you I wanted the dark blue dress, not the green." The astounded voices of the maids only proved to Marie that, once again, her mother had somehow known.

Irene Alder Darkholme was blind from birth, and could sometimes be mentally unstable. It was a wonder why her father, Robert, ever married her. Irene wasn't her true mother, but she was the only mother she had known. Her father told her that her real mother had died giving birth to her.

"Marie?" Irene called from another room.

"Yes, mother?" Marie showed at the doorway, peeking in. Not seeming to care they both were only dressed in their underwear and corsets.

"Why don't you wear that nice Victorian rose and burgundy outfit we bought before the trip? Graydon loves burgundy."

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, her mother heard the groan that escaped Marie's lips. "Now, now, child. Graydon is a nice man, and will take good care of you. Your father and I cannot keep you forever."

Graydon and her were the whole reason the were taking this trip to America in the first place. Marriage. Marie had prayed she would never hear that word unless she wanted to, but alas, it had happened. Her father came home one day with a huge grin on his face, making him seem younger than he was. The reason for that grin was the news that he had closed a deal for his little Marie to be wed to Graydon Creed.

This was the dinner where she would first meet the man she was supposed to spend her life with. Marie had an overactive imagination, and had already conjured up a picture of the man. Old, ugly, teeth stained from too much brandy and smoking and not enough brushing. Short, stocky, but believing himself to be the only thing that mattered in life because he was rich.

It was so unfair. She guessed it was her fault, really. Reading all those romance novels and actually believing in true love. They corrupted her, according to her father. But to make them happy, she was like she was supposed to be. Ditzy, sweet, beautiful, available, and willing to do anything for her husband.

An uncontrollable snicker arose. It was a given that Marie could end the wedding plans at any moment if she acted like her true self around Graydon. But then that would greatly disappoint her parents, and she couldn't do that. They had given her everything, this was her payment in return. A life of complete misery.

Her dress was put on and her hair and makeup done perfectly. The last thing she donned were her gloves. For some odd reason, her father had forbid her to have physical contact with another human being. He said it was to keep her pure for the man she would marry, that it was the way things were done. Yet at parties, or at gatherings of some sort, Marie had always had reason to furrow her brow in confusion at seeing single proper girls go without gloves. Maybe it was because their parents just didn't know better.

"Dearie, are you ready?" her mother called.

"Yes, mother." Marie answered as she left her room. Her mother smile at her. Despite the black glasses and cane, her mother was still beautiful and looked perfectly normal. The smile she would give always caused Marie to smile in return, and somehow, Marie thought she knew that.

As usual, Marie took one of her mother's arms, to help lead her throughout the ship to the Reception Area. Hooking both of their trains to their gloved hands, they were ready to leave. "I imagine you look breathtaking, my dear."

"Thank you, mother. And you look beautiful too."

With an exchange of smiles, they set forth for dinner.

April 12th, 1912
6:05pm

Going down the Grand Staircase made Marie wish her mother could see. She would have loved to see such beauty as this, for one could only stare in awe at the magnificently hand-carved wood with gold trimmings all around. The clock and the angel holding the lamp were the centerpieces of divine artwork. The skylight brilliantly lit up the room as much as if one were outside in the sun.

As they slowly descended the stairs, they stopped now and then to chat with some of the other rich and famous people on board. The Countess of Roths, Mr. Astor, Mr. Andrews, etc. etc. They were all very courteous and polite, except for Astor's wife. The little snot was rather rude to Irene and Marie. But she just shrugged it off as being a mood swing.

Seventeen, married, and pregnant. Marie was lucky she lasted until twenty before being courted away.

Speaking of the courting, Marie spotted her father exchanging small chitchat with an older bald man who walked with a special cane. The cane was different than her mothers, it had a loop at the top for his arm to go through and a handle for his hand to grasp. For him, it was his trouble with walking. Marie had never met the man with the bald head and the kind features before, but her father looked nervous speaking with him.

"Yes, I am often mistaken for the great Senator Kelly," her father explained. It was true, everywhere they went someone mistook him for the famous American Senator.

"Father?"

"Aaaaah," he plastered a smile on his face. "Marie, Irene. I would like you to meet Professor Charles Xavier. He runs a school over in New York."

"Pleasure," both Marie and her mother said at the same time. However, her mother's voice changed quite a bit. Something was going on that Marie didn't know about, and at least her parents did. Something involving this man.

"So, what type of school do you run, Professor Xavier?" Marie asked, curious about this man. Why would her parents be nervous around him? She sensed nothing but warmth and kindness from him. A type of person to be the world's greatest father figure, and compassionate friend.

"A school for gifted people."

"Gifted? How so?"

"People with gifts unlike that of any-"

Robert interrupted him abruptly. "Yes, well, I am very sorry, Professor, but we have an appointment to keep." He bowed and exchanged good-byes, then ushered his family away.

Marie had never been so confused and intrigued over something in a long time. What was it about that man that made her want to know more? And why were her parents afraid of him? He seemed like a very nice man, one that probably ran Help the Poor shelters or something. He just had that air around him.

Her father lead them into the actual dinning room, no one was seated yet. It was stand up and chat with people you hardly know time. She was led to a table with a bunch of people standing around it, one of the men turned and smiled down at her. He was dashing, young, and so very handsome. Like he was made from the finest genetics on earth. His perfect smile should have made her melt into a puddle on the floor, and it did, until she saw his eyes. There was something about his eyes that she didn't like, something that frightened her to her very core.

But he was beautiful, in a manly sort of way. His brown hair trimmed perfectly in a modern style, his face shaven so not a spec of hair was shown, which made him look all the more younger than he seemed. Marie guessed he was in his middle or late twenties, even though he looked far younger. Yet his eyes... an involuntary shudder ran up and down her spine.

Robert smiled at her. "Marie, darling. This is Graydon Creed," he said, gesturing to the man before her.

Somehow, Marie knew that this would turn out to be Creed. If he wasn't ugly, than he was evil. That was it! He was evil, it was in his eyes. Marie always believed the eyes were the windows of the soul, and she had gotten quite good at reading them in people.

But for her family, she plastered on a smile and bowed slightly towards him. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Creed."

Graydon's eyes searched her up and down, devouring her into their black mists. "Please, call me Graydon. I am your fiancé after all."

"Of course... Graydon." Graydon Creed... it even sounded like an evil name now that she had a face to go with it.

"That reminds me, we need to make it more official." Digging into his pocket, Graydon produced a small box which he opened. The most beautiful and expensive looking diamond ring stared back at her. Calling to her... it was a female thing. Graydon took the ring out and placed on her correct finger, over her thin glove. After, he kissed her hand briefly.

"Shall we sit?" he pulled a chair out for her and she elegantly sat her body down on it. A quick glance around confirmed others were just starting to get seated. Graydon sat to the left of her, while her father and mother sat to the right. There were others at their table, yet always a new bunch of people.

This time it was a group of two men and one woman. They all seemed acquainted with each other. Two even looked related with their facial features. Perhaps twins. The boy had white hair, while the girl had an auburn mane. There was a much older man with grey hair and eyes that were wise with age. Maybe they were all related... there were some features that at least the man and boy shared.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Erik Lensherr," the old man began. Marie stared into his eyes and didn't like what she found there either. Pain, suffering, hatred. That man had been through a lot in his time. But that just seemed to make him stronger, even if the intense flame was just starting to burn out. "These are my associates, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. Twins."

A round of introductions from her side was conducted by her father. She smiled and looked all pretty, rather like what Wanda was doing. She looked to be about as happy to be there as Marie did. In fact, Pietro didn't even look happy to be there. Pushing the white hair out of his eyes, he looked bored to death.

Dinner was ordered and one of the beginning 'meals' was brought. Marie couldn't help but notice two men standing off to one side, their attention always on Marie's table. One was a huge man with long blonde hair and a mean looking face. He had all the appearance and attitude of a bodyguard. The other man was much smaller, short for men's standards, and looked like he was seasick. With the way he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes every time food passed by, that was probably what he was. It gave his skin a pale green tinge to it, even turning his black hair to a very dark green. The two of the men were both clad mainly in black, and both looked like business. Even if the smaller one looked like he would sooner be sick than kick someone's butt.

Mealtime was a time for Marie to half-listen to the boring conversation at the table, not like she ever really participated in it, and look at the world around her. It was the only way she ever really saw anything of it. Just by standing back in the shadows and watching during meals or parties. That was her life, and she hated it. But it was supposed to be proper and right.

Even if it didn't feel like it.

The band played in the background, providing music for when there was silence at the table. Marie looked around, wanting to find that kind man from before. It didn't take long, they were only one table over. He was looking at Marie's table... yet not at her. His gaze was directed at the old man, Lensherr. Looking back at him, she could tell every now and then he would grant side-glances at the bald man. It seemed everyone knew everyone else for reasons unknown to anyone but them, but obvious to everyone else that something was there.

She looked back at the table with Professor Xavier and viewed his company. A gorgeous black woman with white hair... something Marie had never see before. She looked like a Goddess from one of those tribes of another country. Beautiful and elegant and so pure. Next to her was an older couple. A man with red glasses, and a woman with red hair. They were every bit in love, which made Marie stare longingly at them.

She would never know love like that. But at least she knew it truly existed, and it was no longer a figment of her overactive imagination. Her pained eyes closed against the tears that threatened to well and spill over onto her cheek.

When she opened them again, she just wanted to cry even more. Her eyes fixed on another couple there. A young girl and boy. They held hands. Bare hands above the table, staring deeply into each others eyes. Apparently, some of the others were trying to address them. The called out "Robert" and "Jennifer" but the two didn't respond, too lost in each other to care about anything else.

Her eyes diverted again and found themselves staring directly into another pair of hazel eyes. Embarrassed and flustered at being caught, she looked away from those eyes. But feminine curiosity made her glance shyly over again at those eyes.

The man they belonged to didn't look away. He had no shame or fear of being caught staring, unlike her. He sat with his chair positioned more towards her, his arms folded across his chest, and an unlit cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth, chewing ever so slightly on the end. His face was covered with sideburns only seen on Javert wannabe's. His eyes bore into hers, capturing them and holding them as if it were a physical force.

She wanted to look away, yet she didn't. She wanted to go over to him, yet she wanted to stay right there. So many conflicting emotions were pulling her in two different directions. It would be improper for her to go over there. But she wanted to... something about him made her drawn to him. Like that invisible force she always read about in books that binds two people together for all eternity.

The arrival of another part of the meal brought her out of the stare. She could still feel his eyes upon her, and it made her blush. "Marie, dear, are you alright?"

Once again, her mother had defied the laws of physics. "Yes, mother. I guess... I'm just a bit hot... May I be excuse for a few minutes, go outside for some fresh air?"

Her father replied bluntly, "No."

"Oh, come now Robert. She hasn't been allowed up on deck, and perhaps some fresh air will do her good. Go along, dear. Your food will still be here waiting."

Graydon got to his feet and helped his wife-to-be up. "Would you like me to escort you?"

"No, thank you." She quickly walked out before he could persist the option more.

April 12th, 1912
6: 48pm

There was hardly anyone around. A few crewmembers now and then, but everyone was at dinner. It was hard for her to find the outside deck, she didn't know her way around. But after asking one of the men, she arrived at the Boat Deck. The sun was already halfway done setting, but it was still beautiful. The colors intertwined like in a romance novel, creating a splendor of fiery passion across the sky. The wind cooled her exposed skin, providing the perfect setting.

Reaching at one of the folds of her dress, Marie pulled it back, revealing a hidden pocket just big enough to fit a book in. All of her gowns were tailored like that. She pulled out the well-worn paperback. Often, she would read parts over and over again before continuing on with the next. She could quote some of the paragraphs by heart. They were her only escape in her imprisoned world. Her father hated it, but her mother encouraged it. Always complaining that Marie would simply die of boredom if it weren't for those novels.

A lot of times, when they were alone and nothing was planned, Marie would read the novels to Irene. She enjoyed them as much as her daughter did, but with being blind, she couldn't just read them. And it was an embarrassment to have one of the servants read them aloud to her.

Pulling the delicate piece of lace she used as a bookmark, and separating the pages, Marie began to read, using the sunset as the only light. Once it was gone, she would go back inside. One of her most favorite passions was reading by the sunset, watching as the pages slowly turned the different shades the sky would as the light went down.

Already buried into the midst of deep passion, Marie hadn't really noticed the adult couple walking along near her. She noticed enough to lean against the railing, providing them with enough passage for them to continue their hand-in-hand walk uninterrupted. But they stopped after just passing her, turning slightly as if to watch the sunset.

Stealing a glance at them, the woman was watching the sunset. The man... well, she couldn't see what the man was looking at. The red tinted glasses he wore hid his eyes from the rest of the world. Red tinted... it was so odd, she had never seen that before. She wondered why they were like that, or if the guy was just plain rich'n'weird.

The couple looked at her at the exact same time and smiled. Marie found herself smiling back, even with the deep flame of jealousy burning inside her. She would never smile like that, so pure, so real. It was always forced, always an act. Nothing made her truly smile like a lover would. And nothing ever would.

They moved towards the railing, just next to her. Marie pretended to be engrossed in the book again, but it didn't seem to fool them.

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" the woman asked her.

"Yes..."

"I am Jean. Jean Summers. This is my husband, Scott."

With a slight nod of her head, she acknowledged it. "Marie Darkholme."

The lovers exchanged glances, then smiled again at her. It would have been unnerving if it weren't for the fact their smiles were so genuine towards her.

Suddenly, the woman turned her head sharply to one side, just as a man burst through the door. It was the same gruff man who had been staring at her at dinner. The one who really didn't look like he belonged in wealthy clothes. The woman was already moving towards the door before the man even spoke, her husband close behind her.

"Some lady inside is havin' a breakdown or somethin'. X wanted me to get you."

A breakdown? The blood drained from Marie's face and the book fell from her small hands, forgotten as she gasped and a hand covered her mouth. She ran past them, pushing the gruff man aside roughly.

It was very unladylike, but this was an emergency.

Racking her brain, her mind retraced the directions given to her backwards to find her way back to the Grand Staircase and into the Dinning Area. Beauty and elegance were completely forgotten as she raced down the stairs, having to greatly use the railing else she'd fall or trip over her dress that she didn't even try to keep out of her way.

Sure enough, the person having a breakdown was her mother. It happened, not frequently, but when it did it was a frightening experience for everyone that knew her. The ones that didn't know her simply pinned on delusional ramblings from a person that should be a mental patient. But people that knew her and knew of her breakdowns knew far better than that.

"We're going to sink! The ship's going to sink! Oh God! So many deaths! So much chaos! We're going to sink!" her mother was in the middle of a tirade, concerned and intrigued people gathered around her, trying to calm her down. Except her father. Her father always tried to seemingly make things worse.

But Marie knew, he had to do it. For every time her mother had a breakdown and spewed out seemingly random things... those random things always came true. She predicted the deaths of people they knew, she predicted the events of the next day. She predicted things that wouldn't even happen in their own lifetime.

The most absurd one she heard was when she was young. The first time Marie could remember her mother having a breakdown. Something about a great battle on the Statue of Liberty. A powerful machine. A great sacrifice. And she saw Marie there... a young Marie. But it was set after the turn of the millennium, so it couldn't be possible. It had frightened her, because she didn't understand at the time. She still didn't understand and it still kept her awake at night after her mother would have a breakdown.

"We're going to sink! We're going to sink!" Irene just kept repeating the same phrase over and over again. It was the end of the breakdown. She would continue to repeat it for a few minutes before finally passing out, as always happened.

But the professor, with the help of some of the people at his table, helped to lay her down, and for him to sit on the floor next to her. He put his hands to either side of her head and whispered comforting words to hers. Words that soothed her and brought her back to the present. The ragged breathing became more rhythmic as her mother slowly regained herself.

As soon as she was of a sane mind, Robert took her and proceeded to carry her to their quarters. He called for Marie to follow, and she obeyed silently as the room returned to normal. The band began to play again, people began to converse again and returned to eating. The excitement was over, and no doubt by the end of the voyage almost everyone would have forgotten about this incident.

Until it happened, which probably wouldn't happen for many years.

Except there was always a chance that this voyage was the one her mother predicted.