Before I met him, it was his voice that drew me on...Erik thought as he remembered that first meeting.
It was his first employment as a butler and it was to be his last. He is waiting in the great hall of the Xavier Mansion, seated in a chaise longue of ornate wood and curlicued embroidery, his luggage leaning close by the leg of the chair. The hall is long and wide; the colours are a combination of light brown and muted gold, the carpet an ashen brown with golden intersecting lines and maroon-coloured roses in the stitching. There are elegant white vases and simple sculptures lined against the walls and tasteful artworks of a hunting scene on one wall and a ship sailing upon tempestuous seas on another.
There is a low mirror, oval shaped and filigreed, surely it is of silver and Erik could clearly see himself reflected upon the glass. He is dressed as any gentleman should be dressed, his lapels are pressed and his tie straight, his light brown hair cut short and neat, parted to the side. His shoes are polished and clean. There are slight lines at the sides of his greenish, gray-blue eyes and a smooth line in the middle of his forehead, a faint scar upon the skin between his right nostril and upper lip, but he is clean-shaven. He stared at his reflection, then he turned his head, distracted.
He heard the voice of his employer, drifting to his ears though muted from behind the closed door of the study. He is speaking to someone named Darwin, a man he just met earlier today. They both arrived at the same time, but Darwin let himself in first and told him to wait in the hallway.
"...our dear friend Warren Worthington had set up the meeting and all went smoothly,"Rustling of papers and the sound of something heavy moving upon the heavy oak table.
"Yes and they are all in agreement that this project of yours should go through, all we need now are the additional sponsors and we are set,"
"Excellent! I will be sending invitations to my colleagues at Preston-"
They continued with their talk of this meeting they are setting up; it appears to be about a project to fund a school. Regardless, it was the lilting quality of HIS voice that drew Erik's attention. It was the voice of a man that has complete confidence in himself and yet he sounded unpretentious. It was an amiable and warm voice.
"Very well then, I shall be off and duly return, mayhap next evening."
"Until next time, Darwin. You know you are always welcome here,"
Another rustling resounded from within the room; perhaps they shook hands and then Darwin's steps drawing near as he crossed the carpeted floor of the study and opened the door. Darwin peered around at him, tipped the hat that he had placed upon his head towards Erik, by way of acknowledgement and escorted himself out. Erik knew his name because the man had opened an introduction earlier as he sat there awaiting his employment. He had seen dark-skinned individuals before, but so far, Darwin was the first one he had spoken with in a polite setting. The man was cultured and he sounded jovial, wearing a gray waistcoat, his curly black hair topped with a dark gray top hat as was the fashion. Erik wasn't able to properly introduce himself because the man came and went about his business briskly but politely.
"Erik? Erik Lehnsherr? You may come in now,"
Erik quickly sprang up from his chair and quietly opened the door, he went in and just as quietly he closed it behind him. Then, he faced his employer. The man smiled and Erik's breath caught in his throat. Why he suddenly felt the way he did...he had no way of knowing. He had expected someone much older, not this young and handsome man before him. He was dressed in a dark brown coat and wore a light beige inner-vest and a red cravat, his white collar crisp and stiff, covering his neck. His hair is a longish dark brown that fell in soft curls about his forehead and the back of his head. And his eyes. Erik had never seen eyes as bright and limpid blue as these before; there is a tenderness in the way that the other gazed at him. It struck him so, the man's eyes, the man's face and...his lips. Lips that are far too red, as if he had eaten strawberries but that his lips appeared to be permanently stained with the luscious red fruit. The man cleared his throat and his smile widened. Erik realized he was gawking stupidly at him, far longer than necessary. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. He straightened himself and walked towards the table and held out his papers and the recommendation letter from his previous employer.
"Good day Sir. My papers...if you may,"
The young man took the papers and quietly perused over them, and then he nodded.
"Proper introductions in order of course! My name is Charles Xavier, a pleasure to meet you."
He held his hand out to Erik and they shook hands. Erik felt his cheeks grow hotter; he wondered if his blush had deepened. Just with the man's touch, he felt unwelcome feelings stir within him.
Erik's voice became a throaty rasp, "A pleasure indeed,"
Charles released his hand and sat back in his chair, still smiling.
"I have been in dire need of a butler to keep the household in order. I might as well tell you a bit of history regarding myself so you will understand why I am actually new to all of this."
"Very well, sir"
"I recently acquired an inheritance from a distant relative. It was quite a shock to me that I actually have a relative and that he would know of me and bequeath upon me his wealth. I've always lived frugally and I am by no means Nouveau Riche...I think,"
Charles smirked wanly at this thought. Then, he looked towards Erik, who was hanging on to his every word, barely moving. Charles absently lifted the side of his fingers from his right hand and pressed them to his generous lips. Erik raptly followed the movement, trying to keep his face immobile.
"This estate that I now reside in, belonged to my uncle, Raphael Darkholme, I have never met him, to be honest, but his solicitor approached me on the matter and now, here I am. I try not to blend in with the nobles and the upper class, mind you...because I disdain hypocrisy and social classification."
Charles brought his hand back to the table, running his palm softly over the surface of his ink blotter.
"Whatever wealth or status I have acquired now, I am using it to fund various philanthropic ventures. Like the school I am currently vested in, the one at Graymalkin Lane. I grew up in that school and I just wanted to repay the kindness they have bestowed upon me, taking me under their wing even when I could not pay for my education."
Erik found himself responding. "Very noble of you to do so, Sir,"
Charles shrugged. "I sometimes think people don't see it that way. Even though it is something as simple as an act of charity or goodwill, some people might think it is a strategy for politics,"
"How is this so?"
"Any means to use a pawn for centralized bureaucracy, the upper-class elite or the bourgeois individualists, surely they would need a face representing their so-called causes. Be as it may, I choose neither one. I am my own man."
Those blue eyes regarded him again. "And of course, being my own man does not mean I do things alone. I need people I could trust. Hopefully you are a man I could trust, Erik."
Erik held his gaze and nodded. "Of course, Sir"
Charles sat back straight in his chair and stretched, but kept his eyes upon Erik.
"Your last name, Lehnsherr, German of course, but your accent-"
"Yes, I was raised for sometime in Ireland and then my parents moved here in England. My Father is from Germany,"
"I see. Do you speak some German though?"
"Ich spreche nur ein wenig deutsch, it means I speak very little German, Sir-"Erik managed to say sheepishly. Charles arched an appreciative eyebrow at that.
"Is there anything in particular that I should know about you, Mr Lehnsherr? Any skill?"
Erik kept his eyes lowered, his smile cryptic. "In time I may show you what I can do."
Charles's lips curved into a smile at that; the amusement reaching up to his eyes. Charles shuffled more papers around his desk and prepared to stand up.
"Come! let me introduce you to the rest of the staff-"
Erik, whose face was initially pleasant, suddenly darkened. Staff? There are other people here besides him? No one had ushered him into the house except Charles's solicitor when they both came in. He was told that Charles would be alone! He made his face as pleasant as possible when Charles turned to look at him. He followed Charles from behind as the man walked ahead of him and led him into the kitchen, where the rest of the staff idled about. Erik's jaw tightened. It was little wonder why no one came to the door to let him in. The staff dawdled in the kitchen and their blithe employer allowed them to do so! Charles was definitely in need of someone who will enforce order in the household.
At the stove was an auburn-haired woman, her expression stern and somewhat cross as she prepared some soup. At the table was a young woman who was polishing the silverware; she is small and dark haired, and her features are gypsy-like. Close by the window and scouring a heavy pot was a young man wearing glasses, he is thin and lanky and he was talking animatedly with another young man who has blond hair. The blond one was organizing some jars in the larder.
"Everyone, may I have your attention please."
They all stopped what they were doing, the Auburn-haired woman took the pot off the flame from the stove, to keep the soup from burning, and both the young men stepped forward as well as the young gypsy faced woman. They all greeted Charles.
"I'd like to introduce you all to Erik Lehnsherr, a new addition to the staff. He will be the head butler of the household. "
He put a hand to Erik's shoulder and then Charles gestured to the boy with the glasses.
"This young man here is Henry McCoy, he's the under-butler and he will be reporting to you."
Henry gave Erik an awkward smile, stuttering. "P-pleased to meet you, Mr. Lehnsherr,"
Erik nodded and smiled coolly. Charles then went over to the red-haired woman and placed his hands upon her shoulders.
"And this is my superb cook, the mother hen to us all and one of the senior staff, Moira MacTaggert."
She frowned and shrugged off his hands from her shoulders. "Really Charles! You already had me at Superb Cook, you could have stopped there!"She said dryly.
Charles chuckled at that. "I'll keep that in mind should we have any forthcoming introductions then."
He introduced Alex Summers, his Knife and Errand Boy (the blond one) and Angel Salvadore the housemaid (Gypsy girl).
"Oh, I almost forgot! I should introduce you to Logan or he shall be cross with me!"
He gave a cheerful smile to everyone in the kitchen and then Charles took Erik's arm and led him to a side door, leaving the staff to return to their duties. Erik gave Charles a quizzical look.
"Who is this Logan you speak of?"
"He is my groundsman, and believe you me, he has no respect for me or anyone whatsoever, fair warning if you find him unpleasant. He was already the groundsman here, before I came along and I think he has quite an attachment to his old household. He's a bit...unrefined, but I imagine it has always been in his nature to be such," Charles said, sounding more amused than annoyed with having a staff member that disrespects him.
"Maybe I could change that," Erik said gravely.
Charles turned those wide blue eyes at him, stopping him.
"Oh no! No my friend! I didn't mean that I dislike Logan's abrasiveness, I'd like to think it is not without its charm-"
"Whatcho mean by that, Xavier?"A truculent voice came from up one of the oak trees in the garden.
Then the source of the voice came bounding down with a grunt. He is a tall man, but not nearly as tall as Erik, His hair stood like black quills, his face pugnacious yet for some reason, looked aristocratic at the same time. He is wearing dark brown overalls, an axe slung over his shoulder. Charles began the introductions.
"Logan, I'd like to introduce you to the new head butler of the house, Erik Lehnsherr,"
The man spat on the ground, gave a grunt and regarded them in silence. He is smoking one of those cheap cigarettes that smelled strong. He gave Erik a once over and seemed to dismiss him.
"A pleasure to meet you too, I'm sure-"Erik managed to say in a sarcastic, biting tone.
Logan gave him a steely glare at that, but Erik stood his ground. They stared malignantly at each other. Charles looked at both of them anxiously and before any quarrel ensued he steered Erik back into the house.
"Right, well...enough of the pleasantries then and back into the house, shall we?"Erik allowed himself be led back into the house and then he turned his attention towards Charles.
"You are too kind for your own good, Sir. A man of ill-breeding such as that has no right to stay in your employ. Any man or woman working under a household should know the rules of civility and respect for their betters."
Erik sounded indignant, his eyes narrowed in anger. Charles was leading him to another hallway and into a parlour. Charles looked over his shoulder, his expression bemused. Erik stared again. Maybe Charles did not realize this, but the way he was looking at Erik seemed almost as if...he was beckoning him. Those red lips curled into a smile once more.
"Are you actually, chiding me, Mr Lehnsherr?"
Erik made sure he breathed out evenly.
"No, Sir. I am not. I am only appalled by the lack of social graces from your cur of a groundsman!"
Charles laughed again. "Leave it be, my good man! I prefer my household the way it is. "
Erik was momentarily flummoxed. He did not know what to say to that. Charles led him to a parlour, well-lighted and with a fire already going in the fireplace. The behaviour of his employer was quite astounding, for instead of having the under-butler lead him about, he had taken it upon himself to introduce Erik to his household. Certainly not the actions of an upper-class gentleman. He was endearing and warm in this way, arousing Erik's admiration.
"This will serve as your office from now on. If you step out of this door and turn to the right, you will see your bedroom; the door has been left open so that you may bring your luggage in. I have on your desk the list of duties you will perform in my home. Mainly you will serve as, more or less, my right hand man and I will entrust you to handle my domestic affairs as I see fit."
"And I shall do my utmost best to perform them well."
Charles clapped him on his back. "Good! I'll leave you to it then."
Erik was all alone in the Parlour as he surveyed the room. The walls are a combination of dark green and pale brown. The carpet, the same ashen brown like the hallway. There is a heavy wooden table on one side of the wall with a dark green ink blotter on it. There are two high-backed cream chairs before a small, but ornate fireplace and there are two large windows that are covered by pale beige brocade curtains. Between the windows a shelf with a large brass clock on it and a tall mirror on the opposite wall with a coat rack and a large ornately carved trunk next to it. Erik sat on the chair before his table and sighed.
"There are far too many people here," Erik whispered quietly as he straightened the pen next to the ink blotter.
"And they already saw my face."
He then picked up the paper Charles left with the instructions on them, read it briefly and then he put it aside. He then noticed a parcel sitting in one of the cream coloured chairs, a note stuck on top of the brown paper. Your Uniform, it says. He undid the strings and unwrapped the clothing within. He saw that there is a white shirt, A black tailcoat, black trousers, a dark gray vest, black long-tie, buttoned boots, socks and gloves. He didn't think twice. He started to strip his clothing off. He was left wearing only his undergarment, and then he put on the socks. He slid on the pants next and had just finished buttoning the shoes. He didn't button the fly of his pants yet. A brisk knock on the door and then Charles barged in, carrying in his hand several letters.
"Mr Lehnsherr, I need these letters mailed-"
They both stood there in quiet shock. There was an odd look in Charles's blue eyes and then was biting on his lower lip, smiling ruefully.
"I did knock,"Was his weak excuse for his sudden entry.
Erik tried not to look flustered. Rather, he returned the smile. "Indeed Sir, you did. It was my fault for not locking the door."
He then boldly walked over to Charles, the other acting flustered over the entire incident than he was. He plucked the letters from Charles's fingers and then he leaned forward, almost kissing distance from Charles at the doorway. He gently put his hand to Charles's wrist, lifting away his hand that still held the doorknob.
"If you don't mind, Sir? I have to close the door, lest there be more people peering in upon my state of undress."He locked the door afterwards.
He gazed steadily at Charles who, strangely enough, was blushing in confusion. He is locked in the room with Erik, who is almost half-naked, was the thought running through his mind. But Erik seemed unperturbed, even emboldened by the sight of his agitation. He did not think much on his dishabille for they are both men.
"I...I'm sorry, I was-"
"Perfectly fine, Sir! Don't fret upon this,"
He continued to dress; he buttoned the fly of his pants with deliberate slowness. Then, he was putting the white shirt and the rest of his outfit. Next came the tie, which he finished off without looking into a mirror, intuitively tying the knots, as if he was used to wearing one.
"There, all done!"
Charles had kept his eyes averted all the while, looking at the colouring of the wall instead, his cheeks beautifully flushed. It was odd that he did not make a move to leave, nor did he announce that he intended to do so. Erik liked looking at his face like this. He smiled, wondering why Charles suddenly lost his composure. Just because he saw me bare-chested? It couldn't be that, surely that's too trivial.
Charles recovered himself and smiled again, after letting out a breath. He finally looked over at Erik, his eyes blinking repeatedly as if to clear them.
"So, I'll be in my study in case you need to report anything to me,"
He unlocked the door and left Erik again in a hurry. Erik stood staring after him and he brought his fingers to his lips and chuffed laughter into it. Charles was obviously discomposed in his presence when he saw him in his state of undress. That can be useful. Perhaps his employer actually has a preference...for men.
"Interesting," He murmured against his fingers.
He supposed he could have ordered Henry McCoy to deliver the letters, but he didn't; He made a tour of the household to familiarize himself, brought his luggage into his bedroom and put his things aside. He then took off to mail the letters. The estate was quite strange, for it was vast and gives one a sense that it was from another place, a sort of country house ensconced within a metropolitan location. He deposited the letters at the post office and as he walked down the streets, he noticed a thin rail of a man with hollow cheeks and thick light brown hair leaning against a lamppost nearby. This man was looking at him avidly from beneath a tipped flat cap. There is a bench close by the said lamppost and Erik sat on the bench. The man did not sit next to him, instead:
"You are dropping letters off for your employer, hmmm. You must be intending to drag this on for a while then,"Erik closed his eyes and leaned his back against the bench.
"So what if I am? I thought it was my right to decide when and where to kill a target,"Erik opened his eyes and gave the man a frightful glare, even though the other was not in the least affected by it.
"Are you... stalling?" The tone of the man was icy, lethal.
"The Intel was incorrect. He has a staff and a groundskeeper. There are too many people-"
The man finally nodded. "Understandable since the Intel was a month old."
"I have to do this...carefully,"
The man nodded in agreement. "See to it that you do, otherwise-"
"What?"Erik gritted his teeth at the man.
"I'll finish the work for you and the rest will be none the wiser-"
Erik turned to glare at him, but he was already walking away as people started milling about. Shaw. You sodded bastard, he cursed inwardly, brow furrowed, his jaw taut with anger. When he returned to the mansion, his mood was a bit more improved. He was at his desk preparing a memorandum for each of the staff and organizing which services would be carried out in the household. Erik looked over at his work and then he looked at the clock on the high shelf. It was time to serve Charles some tea. How unusual it is for him to have assimilated himself so quickly into this position. He went to the kitchen to speak with Moira. She had prepared the tea tray already, but Erik looked over it, dissatisfied.
"What is it, Mr Lehnsherr?" Moira looked over at Erik's face, frowning.
Erik noted that the tea set only contained the teapot, plain white cup and saucers, the creamer and the chequered cloth napkins.
"Is this all?" Erik's voice was soft, but Moira heard an undercurrent of distaste in his voice and didn't like it so she answered him as evenly as she could.
"Of course that is how Charles likes it. This has been so for the past two weeks I have been serving him, before you even came here,"
Erik grinned at her malevolently, taking her aback. There was something in that grin that frightened her. Although he was a handsome man and the grin looked pleasant, the intent behind the grin was far from it.
"Needs a bit of touch, don't you think so?" He said in that same soft voice.
He has far too many teeth now; he looked almost shark-like. He tipped some of the tea into the cup Charles was supposed to use and tasted it. He grimaced at it.
"You've been serving him tea from tea bags?"
Moira could only nod minutely at this point. Without a word, Erik started to prepare another tea set for Charles. Instead of using the usual tea set, he looked into the tea cabinets and he took out the delicate looking China, coloured cream & gold, the one with the damask rose on it and then he ordered Angel, who was peeling potatoes at the table to clean it thoroughly. Erik then brewed Charles a different tea, brought forth from his own cannister; preparing him Earl Grey and sliced lemons on a dish and then he noted that there are no pastries, so he prepared some toast with marmalade on them, dusting it off with a bit of powdered sugar. He then plucked a white rose from the garden and put a vase along with the tray and plain white cloth napkins.
"I'll be taking this up to Sir Charles now; you may put aside the rest,"
Moira made a face as he left. "Show off!"She spat out.
Angel giggled from where she sat. "Well you have to admit, he did it one up better than you,"
Moira threw a dishrag at Angel, the other still laughing at her.
"Shush it!"
Charles head was bent over the table, busily attending to his correspondence. Erik knocked lightly.
"Come in,"
Charles said without looking up, but the smell coming from the tea set did make him look up. "Oh,"
Erik smiled at him. "Your tea, Sir-"
Charles smirked at Erik as he looked over what Erik had done for him, the incident in the butler's office long-forgotten, or perhaps that had been his intention to regain his composure."I do prefer basic black over Earl Grey, although this looks lovely. Did you prepare it?"
"Yes I did, Sir."
Erik poured him his tea, and using silver tongs, pushed a lemon slice onto a saucer next to the teacup and handed it over to Charles. Charles did not really like Earl Grey, the citrusy taste was not for his palate, but out of respect for Erik's effort, he squeezed some lemon onto his Earl Grey, put in two sugar cubes and stirred his tea. He drank, then his eyes grew round, pleasantly surprised by the unexpected flavor of this brew.
"Oh that's-"
Erik gave him a knowing smile and nodded.
"That tasted...different. I like that! What kind of spice did you put in it?"
"A secret Sir, if I tell you...I may have to kill you,"Erik murmured, pretending to sound grave, but his eyes are playfully regarding him.
Charles laughed and took a hearty bite of toast with marmalade. He suddenly looked like a school boy, his teacup in one hand and the toast on the other. He had some powdered sugar on his chin. For some reason Erik thought he looked... adorable.
Erik gestured, "Uh, Sir you have some-"
Charles looked up at him with those wide blue innocent-looking eyes. He looked a bit thin, as if he had not been eating well.
"What is it?"Those red lips, shining with a bit of marmalade upon them.
Erik stiffened. Pointing to his own right chin. Charles reached up and dabbed at his left chin instead, spreading more sugar in its wake. Erik couldn't stand it any longer and finally took the napkin to help Charles by wiping at his chin.
"Here, let me,"
Charles's cheeks reddened, nervously commenting upon Erik's actions. "So, you are my new Moira it seems."
Erik wrinkled his nose at that, smiling. "Oh I think I'm a far better replacement for her, in fact you can actually fire your entire staff altogether,"
Charles was about to object, but Erik quickly added, "I meant if you did, then you can see what else I am capable of."
Charles swallowed "Heavens, no! I wouldn't think of firing anyone at all. I do enjoy everyone's presence in my home and besides," He looked at Erik pointedly and yet he spoke kindly at the same time,
"You can't possibly do it all on your own. That is why households such as the one I own require a staff,"
"Forgive me Sir; my previous employer was a bit of a recluse...I was used to working alone,"
"Not in my house, Erik. You are not alone!"
Erik was somehow touched by Charles's words because Charles had said it so simply and with honest intentions. It is no small wonder why his staff likes him; he saw it earlier in their faces, except for Logan, who was repulsive to start with. After Charles had finished his tea and his meal, Erik took the tea things. He went to the door closed it behind him and let out a breath. Quietly, he let his back lie close to the door, still holding the tray with the tea set.
Then he briskly brought the tray back to the kitchen, arranged a meeting with the staff and handed over the memorandums. He explained to them that their function will still remain as it is, but the work done will be assigned to specific individuals to prevent any confusion. Erik assigned Henry to be the footman and to assist him with the winery, the dining area and the correspondence. Mrs MacTaggert, still in her position as the cook, will be handling all kitchen affairs and will handle the larder, previously a task designated to Henry. Alex used to help Henry with the inventory but from now on, he will be assisting Mrs MacTaggert with the heavier kitchen work while also maintaining his position as errand boy. Angel will handle more of the housekeeping affairs; both the heavy and the light work since Erik believed that her youth will allow her to handle it.
Logan did not bother to show up. He quietly bristled when he realized the brute was not coming. He marched over to Logan's sleeping quarters, a small stone and brick foundation on the left side of the estate. Logan was not here too. He left the memorandum under a rock at the doorway and went back into the house to settle other housework that needed to be done. No sense stewing anger over the lout. When he had made sure everything was done, he returned to his office. He sat quietly before the table, staring down at the dark green ink blotter. He did this for some time. It came crashing upon him all of a sudden that he was here, hired to kill Charles Xavier and yet he could not bring himself to do it. He was getting immersed in his role as Charles Xavier's servant, initially a ploy to infiltrate his home so he could set it up and have Charles die of either 'natural' or 'accidental' causes. His papers are all fake, his name a forged alias made long ago. He had killed before, but what was stopping him now?
Was it because he really did find Charles... attractive? He had never been attracted to a target before, no matter how handsome or beautiful they were, but there was just something about Charles that seems to invite him in that he wanted to find out more.