"Begin"
To go into the first part of a process, to come into existence, to have a starting point.
Anything in italics and underlined is in French.
It was ridiculous that Marianne could still be afraid of flying after what she had just faced, but it was true. This time, though, she kept her hands off the seat to keep herself from gripping the armrests again and exposing her terror. She focused on looking out the window, watching the country pass below them, and listening to the others talk around her.
When Raven told Charles, Erik, and Moira how Marianne had attacked Shaw, Erik actually laughed out loud, startling everyone. He laughed so hard he ended up having to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle himself, but everyone could see him smiling behind his hand. His shoulders shook with silent laughter for ages afterward. Marianne ended up smiling herself out of pride.
Marianne made sure to tell everyone how Darwin had protected them all, always stepping in to shield them and being the first to lead them to safety when the guns started firing. When Darwin tried to shrug it off, the others swooped in to start praising him. Darwin grinned at the praise, ducking his head bashfully when Moira commended him for his actions. Charles and Erik (who was still clearly trying not to laugh) also expressed their pride in him, and some of the stress still left in Darwin fell away as they did.
The childhood home Charles had described was nothing like Marianne had pictured. It was not a home, it was a mansion - it was practically a castle. The grounds, all belonging to Charles and his family, stretched on for miles. The only sign that they were anywhere near other people was the gigantic satellite dish in the distance.
Marianne couldn't even imagine growing up in a house like this. It was as though she had stepped into the world of her books.
"This is yours?"
The group stood in the driveway, the rental car a few feet behind them, staring up at the mansion with varying degrees of surprise. None of them had expected anything like this. Even Marianne, who had assumed Charles had led a privileged life - a private plane, for God's sake - was taken aback.
"It's ours now," Charles corrected Sean.
"Honestly, Charles, I don't know how you survived, growing up in such hardship," Erik quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Marianne smirked at the remark but stopped. For just a second, right after Erik had said it and right before Raven had stepped forward and joined Charles' side, Charles had looked uncomfortable. She wasn't sure why.
"Time for the tour," Raven said, looping her arm through Charles' and leading them all inside.
The mansion was just as impressive on the inside as it had been on the outside, if not more so. It was obvious that Charles came from a very wealthy family. Everything was probably worth more money than Marianne had ever had in her life. Her entire store could have fit in the foyer. The staircase alone was something out of a romance novel. Plush carpeting in deep blues covered the floors, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, huge windows along the stairwell allowed light to stream in, pieces of beautiful artwork hung on the walls - there was even a suit of armour in the hallway.
Charles explained that the castle had been built by his grandfather, and improved by his step-father in Charles' childhood. Many of the objects in the building were antiques passed down through his family for years. Beyond that, he remained mostly quiet, with Raven being their primary guide, and only spoke up when Raven forgot something or got something wrong. He even drifted towards the center of the group, then further back to where Moira, Erik and Marianne had been following the younger adults.
"Alright, Charles?" Marianne asked him quietly. They had just passed his parents' bedroom. Raven hadn't had much to say about it other than that, and Charles had stiffened slightly when it had been mentioned.
"Hmm?" He blinked and then realized what she had asked him. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine. Just," he shrugged, "it's strange being back here after so many years."
"When did you move out?" Moira asked.
"A while before I started university. I wanted to spend some time in England before starting school, get used to living there. Get away from home. Get Raven somewhere else." He smiled at his sister, leading the group and speaking rapidly and enthusiastically.
"Why did you bring her with you?" Erik questioned. "Did she want to come, or...?"
"She wanted to come, yes, but mostly I-" Charles' smile faded. "I couldn't leave her on her own."
"Couldn't?" Moira repeated, frowning. "What do you mean by couldn't?"
Marianne had noticed that word as well - not "wouldn't", but "couldn't." He couldn't leave Raven.
Charles shrugged. "I just mean that - well, we've always been together, and I've always taken care of her, it's not like I could leave her here with- Raven, that's actually Elizabethan-style, not Victorian."
"Whatever!"
Charles huffed but smiled, and didn't continue what he had been saying. Looks were exchanged by the other three, out of Charles' line of sight, but no one brought it up again.
Raven led them by a study, and suddenly Charles lit up and grabbed Marianne's hand. She abruptly stopped, turning to face him with a quizzical look. "Charles?"
"Go on without us," he told Erik and Moira, who had stopped as well. "There's one room Raven forgot to mention, back this way." He pointed down the hall they had just come from. "I think you'll like it."
Marianne nodded slowly and followed him as he led her back down the hall. "What room is it?" She raised an eyebrow. "It's not your bedroom, is it?"
"Would you like it to be?" Charles asked with a cheeky grin.
"Only because I would get to give you a slap if it were," she responded with a smirk.
"Ah, we don't want that, do we?" Charles had them take a right down a different hallway they had skipped before. Marianne looked out the passing windows, staring out across the grounds. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"It's incredible," she said honestly. "I've only seen places like this in books. I cannot quite believe it is real."
"You've seen people control metal and read minds and shoot energy out of their bodies, and my family's estate is what you can't believe?" Charles teased her.
"It would be more incredible if I did not have powers," she defended herself. "Since I do, I do not find the existence of other mutants to be unbelievable. But places like this," she gestured to their surroundings, "I never dreamed I would see for myself, never dared imagine I would live in one."
"Yes, well, there are benefits to living in places like these," Charles said as they came to the end of the hallway, where a pair of doors with ornate carving stood closed. He put his hands on both handles and opened them up. "Like having rooms like this."
Marianne swore she felt her heart stop.
Books. A library - for what else could it be called - full of tall shelves, all filled with rows and rows of books, with cracked spines and faded colours and filling the room with that wonderful old book smell. Most of the books were old and worn, clearly read many times, but had been taken care of, while others had uncracked spines and didn't look like they had ever been moved off the shelf. There were books thin as a sheet of paper, others were doorstoppers; some were older, some seemed relatively new; there was a variety of genres, it seemed, for she could spot titles that were more scientific in nature in one section and titles of plays and poetry in another.
Marianne's hands rose to cover her mouth as she let out an audible gasp.
There were so many - and all in one room. And this wasn't even the end of them, since she had managed to glance inside the study before Charles pulled her away and saw that room filled with books as well.
She ran - nearly flying off the ground - to the nearest shelf and inspected the titles. All history books focused on England. She looked at the next shelf and saw it filled with history books focused on France. She gingerly ran her fingers over the title of one about France in the First World War, then ran across the room, hair streaming behind her, to a different shelf, entirely dedicated to Shakespeare's works.
Marianne laughed out loud, smiling so wide her face almost hurt. This was better than the mansion. This was what she had dreamed of, a room full of more books than she had ever seen in one place.
"Can I assume you like it?" She heard Charles ask, and she remembered that he was here, too. She turned to him.
"This is incredible," she said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I don't know if I've ever seen so many books in one place - our local library is small, it's alright, but it is not- and my store, I love it, but it only has so much-" she placed her hands over her mouth again, unable to go on. "I love it, Charles."
Charles looked absolutely thrilled. "I'm glad! Everything here is free for you to read. Anything you like."
"Anything?" Some of the books looked so old that they may crumble to dust if so much as looked at.
"Anything," Charles said firmly. "Don't worry about a thing. And feel free to come here anytime you like, as much as you like. I meant it when I said the place is ours."
Marianne was bouncing on her feet, unable to stop smiling as she looked around. This whole place, and she was free to look at all of it. There were books she had never even heard of or had never dreamed of being able to find herself, and they were all there for her.
"You can stay here, if you'd like," Charles offered, smiling at the sight of her so happy. "You can finish the tour later. Erik wanted everyone to start training later, but feel free to stay here instead."
Marianne looked around, fingers twitching, ready to pull a book off the shelf and lose herself to it-
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them. "No, this can wait - we have to train, that's why we are here, after all."
Charles tilted his head. "It's not a problem if you want to stay here. And we can always start training tomorrow, since it has been a long day for everyone. Really."
Marianne shook her head. "No, it's fine. I can come back later, when the training is done." She hurried back to Charles, not looking back at what she was leaving, and ignored the way Charles looked concerned at her change in attitude. She smiled at Charles. "But Charles, thank you for showing me this."
He smiled. "Not a problem. I want to make sure everyone enjoys their time here, as much as possible. I knew this would make you happy."
And Marianne realized maybe she had misjudged him. Maybe he still acted like a privileged prick at times, maybe he made poor decisions, but he had personally shown her the library because he wanted her to be happy. He wanted all of them to be happy. Someone who opened his home to others, who had listened to her worries and tried to help assuage them, wanted other people to be happy, showed happiness when they were happy - someone like that couldn't be as bad as she had first assumed.
Before Charles turned to lead them out of the library, she rushed forward and hugged him. He instinctively hugged her back but seemed surprised, if the way he took a small step back was any indication. He laughed, likely out of surprise at her sudden show of affection.
"What's this for?" He asked before she let him go, leaving a hand on his shoulder.
"For your hospitality," she said. "And your kindness."
Charles huffed out a startled chuckle and gave what might have been a shy smile. "It's nothing."
"No, it is not," she said firmly. "Thank you." She squeezed his shoulder and they walked out of the library, back down the way they had come from.
"While we're alone," Charles began after a moment, "I would like to... apologize." At her look, he continued, meeting her eyes, "When we first met, I scared you without meaning to. And I put pressure on you to join us. Even after joining us, you held some resentment towards me." He stopped, and she stopped too. He looked sincerely apologetic. "I understand why, and I'm sorry."
She really had misjudged him, hadn't she?
"Thank you for your apology," she said. "I appreciate it."
Charles looked relieved at her response.
"How are we training?" She asked as they passed the study where they had split from the group. "Individually?"
"Individually," Charles said. "Everyone has such different powers, it would be a struggle to give everyone the focus they needed if we all trained together. Erik and you have similar enough powers, though, so perhaps you two can train together. I'm going to be helping everyone, of course, since I've already perfected what I can do." He smoothed his hair back as though trying to show off.
Marianne laughed. "Perhaps you could learn some different languages, since that seems to be a barrier for you," she teased him, remembering their first encounter.
"If you'd let me, I could go through your mind and learn French that way," he said, pointing at her head. "Would be a lot easier."
"If I can learn a language the hard way, so can you." She shook her head, though she was still chuckling. "Besides, you would want to stay out of my head if you knew what was in there."
"Can't be any worse than what I've seen from other people," he said, though concern flashed in his eyes for a second.
"Like who?"
Charles didn't answer immediately and instead studied a painting they passed. Taking the hint, Marianne asked, "What have you seen in my mind already?"
"I've seen your power," he said, "obviously. I've seen your husband, some of your memories of him, and I saw his death."
Marianne flinched.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Charles said quickly, reaching out and holding her arm, trying to comfort her. She just nodded. "He seemed like a good man."
"He was," she said quietly. She glanced up at another painting, where a couple were dancing in an empty ballroom. The ache in her heart she had grown accustomed to over the years grew a little stronger.
"I saw other things, too," Charles continued, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. She looked away from the painting. "I missed Henry, of course. But I saw pieces of your childhood. Your parents, siblings, the bookstore you loved as a child, things like that. Enough to tell me who you were."
She nodded. If he hadn't seen Henry, then he likely hadn't seen what she hadn't wanted him to see. "What training are we doing tonight?" She didn't want to talk about what he knew of her any longer.
"Erik and Moira want to cover some self-defence. Nothing major for tonight, after everything that's happened."
Marianne nodded again.
"Speaking of which," Charles said, "I'll have to find you all some training clothes, since none of you have anything other than what you're wearing."
Marianne squinted at him. "What kind of training clothes."
Hoping someone up there is listening to my prayers that I'll be able to get the next chapter done this week... School has killed me and is beating up my corpse right now.
This movie is kind of hard to write for because not a lot happens in it? Like Shaw attacks the CIA facility about halfway through the movie, then there's a training montage that takes place over a week, then the final fight. And I don't want to do a flash-forward or a time skip because I want bonding scenes and friendships to grow and characters to be fleshed out. So we're going to see how long a week lasts in this fic.
Basically if you're here for the plot and not for people bonding then... I don't know, wait until the plot comes back, whenever that happens.
Hope you liked this chapter! Don't be shy, leave a comment, please. Let me know what you thought - if you liked it, why you liked it, whether or not you thought characters were In Character (That's definitely important, so let me know your thoughts on that), your thoughts on what may come in the future? Anything. I appreciate all and any comments left on my stories.