Tags/Warnings: mentions of domestic violence
If there was one thing Erik could say about himself, it was that once he put his mind to something, he did his utmost to achieve it. His dogmatism had seen many a legislation pass, had ensured that he married Magda, had propelled him to avenge his sister's death, and now it was pushing him to do everything he could to throw Shaw out of Krakoa and reclaim his throne.
Three more days had passed at Logan's inn. Every day, Erik found himself going into the village to meet with his knights for updates on the situation at hand and strategizing his next move. He was growing impatient. Over a week since he had fled the capital and he felt that he was no closer to getting back. He was growing short with his loyal knights, the alpha spirit still smarting at having turned from a challenge. His knights bore his increasing ill-temper with grace.
Erik was glad of those he had accompanying him. They were all part of the elite Gifted fighting force Erik had championed, the Brotherhood. There was his second-in-command, Sir Azazel, who Erik had all but grown up with. Lady Emma Frost was his strategist. Her Gift of telepathy made her invaluable as a military tactician. She was one of two alphas besides him on the team, the other being Sir Alexander Summers. There was Sir Scott Summers as well, a beta and Alex's younger brother, along with Sir Robert Drake, Sir Sean Cassidy, Lord Warren Worthington, Sir Mortimer Toynbee, Lady Heather Tucker, and Lady Elizabeth Braddock.
Lady Elizabeth and Lord Warren were the only omegas on the team, which caused much consternation among critics of Erik's Brotherhood. Those who protested did so under the guise of concern. It was only 30 years ago that omegas were permitted to join military service and obtain knighthood in Genosha. Those of the older generation still drug their feet about it, wishing to return to a less progressive time. Erik would never allow it. He was inclined to make many sweeping social changes once he took his throne back. Besides, Elizabeth had more than enough Gifts to handle herself and Warren was not helpless.
He had already sent Alex to Sokovia, Sean to Lensberg, Heather to Alkali City, Elizabeth to Briton and Warren to Silverthorne with missives to secure the support he needed. It was taking longer than he would like for his lords and ladies to answer the call. He had received pledges from many, which eased some tension, at least until this latest meeting.
"What do you mean there will be further delays?" Erik asked angrily as he stood in the back room of the village's forge.
He paid the village smith quite a bit of coin for his silence and privacy. In exchange, Erik got to hold meetings in this backroom and as the village believed him a blacksmith, no one was the wiser as to his real purpose.
"I have had word from my brother in Sokovia. Lord Heinrich is reluctant to pledge his men to fight for the capital. Shaw has sent word to selective cities promising his intent to leave them alone if they vow neutrality in the coming conflict," Scott explained.
Erik rolled his eyes in response.
"If Lord Zemo is foolish enough to believe such asinine promises, then perhaps I should go to Sokovia myself and ensure someone with their wits about them oversees the city."
"Somehow, I do not think that will help deter the rhetoric Shaw is spreading about you," Emma pointed out.
"What rhetoric?"
"He is taking a most unexpected but not unintelligent tactic: build you and your father up like villains and tear you down. Impart upon the nobles how necessary this coup was, preach about how ineffectual your father was. After all, if the accusations lodged against him and his son in regards to Princess Ruth are true, then King Jakob could not protect his daughter, so how could he be expected to protect Genosha? Beyond that, he is making you out to be a tyrant, portraying his son as a victim, and expounding upon the tragedy of his murder at your hand—"
"A duel is hardly murder. If I sought to murder him, I would have made it hurt more," Erik spat, cutting Emma off.
He was getting riled up at the memory of that duel: he and Shinobi Shaw fighting each other tooth and nail, swords and Gifts, alpha to alpha until neither could stand. Erik had nearly died a few times that day. He bore more scars from the younger Shaw than he cared to, but none worse than the emotional wound. Nothing that day hurt so much as holding his baby sister's battered body in his arms. Cold, still and broken, evidence of her suffering splayed across nearly every inch of bruised skin. Killing Shinobi had been a sense of momentary satisfaction. It filled him with dark joy to see the other alpha floundering in a pool of his own blood. It wasn't until later when Erik was lying in a medical bay with Anya crying into his chest and his father glaring at him disapprovingly that the haze of rage and bloodlust lifted. He knew there would be political implications from his actions, but everything that happened was in accordance with the laws of Genosha and the rules of a fair duel.
Emma gave him a look of warning and a sharp telepathic nudge, wordlessly telling him to calm himself as he bared his teeth, his hackles raised. She glared at him hard but made no move to challenge him outright.
"Do not put me in this position, my prince. I do not want to choose between whether I must meet you as an alpha or your knight," she intoned, her voice softer than he would have expected.
He held her ice-blue eyes, as cold and sharp as her diamond form before looking away. He took a deep calming breath that only made a negligible difference.
"Scott, continue to keep an ear out for your brother's updates from Sokovia and get in contact with Lady Jean for another update from the capital. Find out if she was able to learn anything new about my father. Bobby and Mort, I want you to make haste to our nearest weapons store. Secure it. I don't want to lose anything while we wait. Emma, begin drafting battle tactics. Chart the number of Gifted in our army if we get maximum support versus humans, as well as alphas versus betas and omegas. Draft each company accordingly. We will go over the strategies when next we meet."
He watched Emma, Mortimer, Robert, and Scott nod before leaving the room, each throwing him a wary glance. Azazel stayed behind. Once the others left, the beta leveled him with a look equal parts understanding and reproachful. He had been Ruth's sworn shield and went with her when she first moved to Hellfire to marry Shinobi but was soon banished back to Krakoa by the Shaws when they accused him of having impure intentions towards the princess. Erik knew it was a lie. Azazel saw Ruth as a sister and a friend, and so he took her death as a personal failure as much as Erik did.
"I shouldn't have lost my temper like that," the exiled prince commented, dropping onto the edge of the desk in the smith's office.
"Perhaps not, but we all understand the source of that anger. What Shaw has done has won him no friends."
"But has it created the enemies necessary for us to have a viable army?"
"He has made it a habit to flaunt himself as above all human lords and ladies in Genosha and has challenged all the Gifted nobles in one way or another. His chickens will come home to roost, Erik."
"I will make sure of that much. I am determined for him to pay, and he shall, but…"
"But?"
Erik sighed to himself, reluctant to speak any further about his concerns for himself when it came to Shaw. He liked to portray a veneer of perfect control, but something about the Shaws got under his skin, causing a near incontrollable rage to grow inside him to the point where he could not think of the consequences of his actions. After that duel, he swore he would be better. He had a responsibility to Genosha, to his children and father to be smart about this, but this situation tested him. Lord Shaw must know that and that was why he bided his time. He wanted Erik to get reckless and make a stupid mistake. He wasn't sure he trusted himself not to.
"It's of no consequence. He will die, that is all," he said in dismissal, trying to banish the anxious thoughts.
The red-skinned man held his gaze for a moment longer but chose not to push him.
"How are the children?" He asked instead.
"They are as well as can be expected. Wanda still has nightmares near every night. Pietro seems perfectly content with his lot as long as he can cause some mischief. Anya is taking things in stride. She understands what's happening better than they do, so helps how she can."
"She still pushing to join our meetings," Azazel questioned, his tone hedging on amusement.
Erik snorted in an undignified manner.
"Only every day."
Azazel and Erik both smiled fondly as they thought of the tenacious little princess, mature beyond her years.
"She seems happy enough to remain at Logan's inn despite her wish to join me. She's made friends with Howlett's lodger."
"He has reopened the inn?"
"No, he has opened it to his godson and the man's child. He seems to have arrived in some disgrace, but Howlett says he is beyond reproach. Anya has become taken with him, talking throughout the day and night about books and the like."
"Is that safe at the moment?"
"It seems harmless. I doubt Howlett would ever be working with Shaw. The omega appears perfectly hapless, all but clueless about Genosha. He is from across the sea if his accent is any indicator. The acquaintanceship distracts her at any rate."
Anya still asked about the state of things in Krakoa and Erik kept her as updated as he felt comfortable with. He could never pin down what her thoughts were on the subject. She kept them close to the chest. She was too much like him in those respects. He wished he were a telepath sometimes just to get inside her mind. Her budding friendship with Charles was a timely distraction. Erik could not help but notice how easily they got along even as he avoided the newcomer. Anya was friendly by nature, but this seemed different for some reason he could not identify.
Azazel nodded and then paused, thinking deeply about something.
"We know this is going to come to a fight. All of us are expecting it, but if word from Lady Grey and her daughter is true, there are a few nobles at court and even those within Genosha's Council of Twelve who have sided with Shaw. Lord Stryker, Lord Trask, Lord Wyngarde, and the like, are not anyone different than we could've expected, but we need to secure our allies sooner rather than later. We are safe here for now and Sebastian hasn't left Krakoa, so we're at a stalemate. Let us use this time wisely. Send me to Sokovia. I will personally treat with Lord Zemo to get him on our side. Without the city, we don't have the men to march on Krakoa even if the others succeed in their missions."
"I need you here. I trust you more than anyone."
"Our meetings will go no further without confirmation of what forces we can expect. Besides, some of the villagers are getting suspicious so we should hold off on meetings until the others return. Let me do this for you, Erik. Let me do this for Ruth. I will not fail her, not again."
Erik stared undecidedly at the older man before assenting.
"I will draft a letter for you to bring along. Lord Heinrich has an omega son, Helmut, does he not? I will express in the letter my intent to seriously consider a marriage alliance should the lord be amenable to my cause."
Azazel rose an eyebrow.
"I thought after Magda…"
"I will do what is necessary. It's not a promise nor a binding oath, just an… olive branch if you will."
"He will not see it that way."
"I'm counting on it. If anything, the son of the lord of the largest city outside of the capital is not a bad political prospect. If the match proves unfavorable or impossible for whatever reason, I still have some wiggle room."
Azazel acquiesced.
"Either way, I will not return without the men we need."
"I believe you."
The two men clasped forearms and let a moment of familiarity and understanding pass between them. In an instance like this, Ruth would've said something rude or teasing. She never enjoyed somber or reflective moments very much. Azazel would've made some sarcastic quip in response and Ruth would've laughed loudly and unabashedly before shooting Erik the patented Lehnsherr grin, too wide with too many teeth. Erik would've feigned annoyance, but he was always secretly amused at Ruth's ability to inject levity into just about any situation. He did not know where she gained the ability from, nor her overwhelming optimism and hope.
Erik penned his letter to Lord Zemo and left it with Azazel. The knight went off to alert his fellows about this change of plan and Erik left the smithy for the village outside. It was a bustling hub untouched by Shaw's invasion of the capital. He had heard some people gossiping about it, but for the most part, it was a non-factor. At least for now. If Shaw settled into power, Erik had no doubt he'd send men out to raid unsuspecting villages like this one.
As he walked, some of the friendlier villagers greeted him. He nodded back to those who did and smiled at a few. None here recognized him as the prince. This village was too far from the capital for them to know him by sight. He did not often talk to these villagers, so they would not know that his breeding was above theirs. Besides that, his association with Logan gave him a wider berth. Still, overall, it was a welcoming village for someone who portrayed themselves in an inoffensive manner, like he did. Even so, Erik wanted nothing so much as to leave. It was hardly their fault, but this was not his home. He was not made for country living.
His thoughts suddenly turned to the omega he was lodging with. He had been avoiding him as much as he could. He still felt that annoying nudge in his chest to get closer to him, to be swept up in a haze of lust and want, but he ignored it. His stubborn resolve to steer clear of distractions had, in some respects, made him act out of turn with the attractive omega. Anya had noticed and thoroughly chastised him for his behavior toward her new friend. She accused him of hating the man and purposefully making him uncomfortable so he would leave, thus they'd have the inn for themselves once more. It was not a bad plan, but Erik was not so diabolical or insidious as all that.
He would have been more direct if he wanted the omega to leave, but in truth, he did not. Charles' scent was coming in now, the overbearing stench of the divorce fading. He smelt like black tea leaves, cinnamon, parchment paper, roasting chestnuts, and something sweeter that Erik could not identify. So many clashing scents in a single person should've been off-putting, but it called to Erik like a moth to a flame. He found himself gazing at the man when he was not looking. Howlett had noticed and taken to giving Erik knowing but warning looks. He had already given him a stern lecture against pouncing on his godson, as if Erik lacked self-control. He was attracted to him and his alpha side could rear its ugly head in explosive anger at inopportune moments, but he would never force himself on another. He had restraint in that respect. He exercised it by keeping away from the man. It helped that he left the cottage quite regularly for meetings, but if he would be staying there for extended periods, he had no clue what that was going to do to his resolve.
He shook his head to himself. Charles wasn't his and never would be. Soon, Erik would be leaving and Charles would be nothing more than a distant memory, mixed in with the sea of muddled encounters with other attractive individuals. Nothing more.