Erik watched Charles all but flee the ballroom with not so much as a backward glance. He knew from the conversation that they shared in the guest bedroom that if he wanted Charles to stay, it would be a delicate process. Charles' confidence in him, in them, was tantamount to a house of cards, liable to fall at the slightest provocation. The telepath was standing on a tightrope, teetering between what he wanted and what society would allow him to have. He would like nothing more than to have Charles simply fall into his arms and damn the consequences, but that was irresponsible and to believe Charles would blindly trust him after the subterfuge he had employed in most of their interactions would be shortsighted of him. A structured, honest approach was Erik's plan. He would settle Charles into Genosha, let the others see his natural insight and intelligence, the benefit he could bring to the nation. On top of that, with the endorsement of Lady Proudstar and Rabbi Elisha, along with others Erik was sure he could convince they could make this work.
That left out the other side of things, the little insecurities Charles carried, the reservations born of the tragedy and abuse he had endured. Charles had only just begun allowing himself to want things when Erik's truth tore down his carefully salvaged perceptions. Perhaps he was asking him for too much. Maybe it was selfish to expect him to want to slot himself into a position in a royal court when he was just beginning to find himself again and still needed to learn to trust Erik again.
The crowd moved to begin another dance, but Erik extracted himself from them, throwing a backward glare at Lord Frost as the older man moved with the crowd. He must have said something, he was sure. Charles was okay before their dance. The prince deftly wove his way through the throngs of nobles, making for the same doors Charles fled through. He looked up and down the hallway but saw no sign of him. He went to ask a guard if they had seen a man matching Charles' description when a voice calling his name distracted him. He turned to see Lord Helmut approaching him.
"You are going after Lord Xavier, I presume?"
His face was a carefully constructed mask of geniality. Erik came to himself for a moment, considering Lord Helmut in the grand scheme of all this. He was thrown headlong into a microcosm of events he barely understood or should have any part in. Erik was the one who dragged him into this, playing politics and making suggestions he never had any intention to follow through with. Lord Helmut was a good man from everything he had known of him so far. He regretted ever building his hopes up.
"I apologize for all this, my lord. It was never my intention to bring you here to embarrass you or anything of the sort."
Lord Helmut looked down, a contemplative expression on his face.
"When I first saw the looks you two shared, I thought to myself, so my husband will be a philanderer. It could be worse. I would rather be married to an adulterous yet benevolent man than an abusive or dictatorial blackguard with no chance of reform. As Lord Xavier spoke, I figured there are worse mistresses I could be forced to share my husband with. Perhaps we will even be friends. The more I saw you two exchanging your looks, the more I realized that it could never be that way. I reconciled myself to many things when my father told me about your offer. I accepted that I would probably always be second best in your eyes, a pale shadow compared to your Lady Magda. However, while it is one thing to be usurped by a ghost, it is quite another to be thought of as inferior compared to a living, breathing man. I dare say I have too much pride in myself to be third best within my own marriage."
Erik took a moment to gather his thoughts in the face of this unexpected confession.
"I understand that your father will not be pleased with this development. That is why I plan to offer him and all his descendants claim to a fifth of the land seized from Shaw's various estates. In addition, several of his businesses reside in Sokovia or near her borders. All monies and enterprise connected to said businesses, I yield unto your father in exchange for continued communion and mutual friendship."
Lord Helmut's eyes widened in surprise.
"You would give up your claim to Shaw's lands? It is all yours by right."
"I have no desire to quarrel with Sokovia or grieve you any longer. You've been endlessly helpful to the kingdom in our time of need. I won't see that go unrecognized."
"Such an offer cannot be rushed into, no matter how generous. Shouldn't you speak with your council on it further?"
"I've already had scribes draw the agreement up. If you're happy with the terms, I'll sign forthwith."
Lord Helmut got a resigned look in his eyes.
"I never did have a chance, did I?"
Erik's silence spoke louder than any words could. A curious glint entered the young omega's eyes.
"And what if I refuse? What if I declare that I believe a life by your side is worth more than a few extra revenue streams and the only redress I see worthy for this infraction to be your hand?"
"This is all I can offer you. I do so humbly."
"And for him, you would risk your kingship, your kingdom?"
Erik glanced away, wondering the same thing himself. He couldn't see it as that dire, but others would. They may perceive him as putting a single man above a kingdom of hundreds of thousands of people. And yet…
"Without him, they mean significantly less to me."
Lord Helmut gave him a considering look before glancing away.
"Hmm."
"Have I offended you?"
"I would give up my own claims to Sokovia to be so loved," Lord Helmut responded in lieu of an answer.
They shared an understanding look before the young lord continued.
"I will bring the agreement to my father if you have already drawn it up. I will also mention your idea about the ambassadors. It is a good one. I think you will be a just and fair king. I will stay for the coronation and then return home with your terms once it is done."
Erik nodded wordlessly. Helmut gave him a small bittersweet smile. He felt a stab of guilt, but it was the right thing for him to do.
"You had better go find your lord," Lord Helmut commented in dismissal.
The man offered his hand to him. Erik kissed the back of it, not lingering long but rubbing an apologetic circle into his skin. He held the man's eyes for but a moment more before the omega speedily returned to the banquet hall.
Erik let out a sigh but shook his head free of the small bit of melancholy the conversation inspired. He turned to the guard he was planning to talk to in the first place and inquired about Charles, following the direction the man pointed in. There weren't many people lingering in the hallways. A few servants he asked mentioned seeing Charles go this way or that, but they never saw him enter any room. He checked Charles' bedroom and the nursery. He looked out into the gardens but saw nothing. He even checked his own bedroom. He was about to give up when a sudden idea hit him. He had not brought Charles to this particular room himself, but he wouldn't put it past Moira to have shown him considering Erik had briefed her on as much of Charles' personality as he saw fit. He returned to the floor Charles' bedroom was on and walked the length of the hallway towards the door at the end.
It opened into a large study. The room was made up of cherrywood walls and furniture lit low by mounted lamps. Several bookshelves covered the walls with hundreds of tomes. A few high-backed sofa chairs, a bar to the left side of the enclosure with decanters and glasses, and a desk under the window completed the room's decor. Charles was standing behind the desk, one of his hands pressed into the top of the wood and the other holding a tumbler of brown liquor. He was half in shadow, the light from the lamp playing against his face and making him appear like a chiaroscuro portrait. He looked up when the door opened and then let out a sigh when he saw it was Erik. His eyes were red and watery, but his face was dry.
"You shouldn't be in here," Charles said in place of a greeting.
Erik closed the door and leaned back against it, observing the other man.
"I wanted to see if you were alright."
"Your place is downstairs among the people, not here with me."
Erik tilted his head slightly, continuing to study Charles. He looked tired, cautious, tense.
"What did Lord Frost say to you?"
Charles met his eyes only briefly before returning his gaze to the top of the desk.
"Nothing that isn't true or that I haven't thought of before," he replied, taking a sip from his glass.
"If this is about Lord Helmut—"
"It's about everything, Erik."
Charles held his gaze, annoyance and anger flooding his eyes. He said nothing in response. Eventually, the younger man kissed his teeth and downed the rest of his alcohol, grimacing at the burn.
"This was a mistake, coming here. I don't know what I was thinking."
Erik's heart constricted at those words.
"Charles—"
"No!"
He reared back in surprise at the fervency in that one word.
"I don't want you to fill my head with more daydreams and placations and notions about things that can't ever be. I understand how the world works more than you give me credit for. You know it too, so why persist in this— this flight of fancy? It is one thing to indulge it at Logan's inn. The world seemed so far away, and what could I know of the world you truly lived in? But Lord Frost was right to disabuse me of these caprices, these… fictions that I allowed you to convince me of. Frankly, I find it callous of you to bring me here and dangle such impossibilities before me on the one hand and expect me to ignore reality as it sits before my very face."
Erik scrunched his eyebrows in bewilderment and confusion.
"You present me with Moira and a chance of friendship. You apparently tell Lady Proudstar you think I am your true mate even though you denigrated the idea of it mere weeks ago. You trot me out before your council. All so I can, what, convince them of my worthiness? To what end? This is one night, one single night, and tomorrow when they learn about David and if they should ever learn about the Markos, what then? You think my views on social progression will matter then? Maybe the people won't care, maybe, but aristocrats are the same no matter where you go. They will not be lorded over by the likes of me. They will never respect me, and they will respect you less because of me. I will not have that over my head or on my conscience."
Charles paused, taking a deep breath before he continued.
"Lord Helmut is one of your countrymen. He is smart. He seems to have similar views to your own. He is a fighter and can protect Genosha by your side. He has a good reputation, he has a good name. He has a better chance of proving fertile than I do. There will be no surprises from his past that may look to jeopardize the future of your union or kingdom. Anya and the twins may like him. He will be worthy of the position of prince consort."
"I've known you to be many things, but never cruel."
"Me? Cruel?"
"What else would you call suggesting that I condemn that man to a life by my side when both he and I will spend it knowing that all the while I will wish that he were you? Every moment, every smile, every kiss, every caress, he will see it in my eyes, and he will know and hate me because I will never love him."
"Love?" Charles scoffed, shaking his head.
"And you call me cruel. That was the cruelest of illusions I allowed myself to be lulled by. I never believed in it before. I don't know how I let you get into my head so quickly and turn me around so completely. Maybe you're the telepath between us after all."
Charles let out a small laugh that ranged on hysterical. Erik watched, puzzled as the man who held his heart seemingly imploded in on himself. Had he done this to him? He moved to approach him, but Charles held up a hand, voicelessly telling him to stop.
"Charles, please. I don't know what Lord Frost told you—"
"He seems to be the only one of us that still has his wits about him."
Something new entered Charles' face, some deep sorrow and sadness that made Erik long to approach him, gather him in his arms and soothe that pain away, but he knew it would be unwelcome.
"Lord Frost made me a proposal. A sensible one. He has a property in Boston and a widowed son who himself is a father. He offers me security and opportunity that has a better chance of coming to fruition than whatever foolhardiness we allowed ourselves to dream up."
Erik stopped cold, staring at Charles with disbelief.
"What?"
"A marriage appropriate for my station and an occupation handling his property suited to my lordly training. It puts me far away from Kurt and Cain, secures David's future, and our financial stability."
"You can't."
"Is there an alternative for a well-educated yet disgraced young father who can't even lawfully claim his own birth name? I have nothing besides my son and a single bag of belongings. The clothes I am wearing right now don't even belong to me. Lord Frost will mediate with the Markos to keep them out of my life. They will likely retain ownership of everything the Xavier bloodline has built up anyway. I long resigned myself to that, but I will be able to keep David and my relative freedom unimpeded. Lord Frost has said his son is more liberal than him, so perhaps I can negotiate our lives together."
"I can handle the Markos. I can provide for you. You won't need to negotiate with me because I will not stop you from chasing your heart's desire."
"And spend my life living off your charity?"
"Stubborn, prideful man, it's not charity. And even if it were, what would you call living on Lord Frost's estate?"
"A business arrangement."
"You would throw yourself to the mercy of some stranger?"
"He is no more a stranger to me than you are, is he, Max?" Charles retorted scathingly.
He seemed to regret the words as soon as he said it. There was a pause in the room before they both silently agreed to move past the accusation and forget the words were ever spoken.
"I don't believe Lord Frost is a liar, do you?"
No, he wasn't. Erik had to admit, of all the ways he figured Lord Frost and his council at large may seek to remove Charles from his life, he did not anticipate this.
"How could you even entertain the notion of this? What do his money and properties matter when you will be depriving yourself of affection?"
"Presumptuous of you to assume I couldn't open myself to another. I did it with you. I can do it again."
Erik shook his head in denial.
"You don't know what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying. You only deny it because it's not what you want to hear."
"I deny it because I know all this flagrant disregard for everything we've shared comes from a place of fear. I know it isn't what is truly in your heart."
"It doesn't matter what is in my heart. It is no credit to be ruled by that organ rather than the more rational one."
Erik threw caution to the wind and approached Charles, caressing his face with his good hand, effectively silencing Charles' protests.
"I know you. I know that this idea of living our lives separately for the sake of some arbitrary and nebulous idea of propriety is not what you want. You're not meant to be a chess piece on a political gameboard. You don't belong on another continent married to some stranger to assuage the sensibilities of a lord who doesn't know or care about you."
"Where do I belong? With you?" Charles replied, his voice still scornful, but his tone was tremulous, and he was not pulling away from Erik.
"Yes, you belong with me."
Charles let out another scoff that sounded more like a sob to Erik's ears. He brushed his thumb across Charles' cheekbone soothingly and felt him relax a bit, probably despite himself.
"I have had pieces stripped from me over the years and much of myself has been wrapped up in anger, grief and pain. I had only had glimmers of light in my children. You came into my life quite unexpectedly, and perhaps without meaning to, you have changed it for the better. I didn't know I needed you until you showed up."
Charles let out a sigh.
"You can't say things like that to me."
"It is only the truth. I intend to provide you with as much verity as you can stand to make up for the omissions and falsities of our previous interactions. The truth is this: I have no armor left. You've stripped it from me. Whatever is left of me, everything I am, I'm yours, heart and soul."
Charles looked at him with wide eyes, speechless. Erik stepped closer to him, looping his arm around Charles' waist and pulling him flush against him, ignoring the way the move jostled his sensitive shoulder. Charles didn't fight the embrace, looking up into Erik's face with a mystified expression. The tugging in his chest settled down as he drew Charles in.
"I can feel you in every fiber of my body. Being without you just for the few days we were separated felt like going without a limb. Whether it is a true bond or not, this thing between us has irrevocably connected us. There is a phantom cord fastening our souls to one another's in such a way that to deny its existence is odious, if not simply impossible. What value will there be in matrimony if we are not together?"
Charles still did not answer him. Erik could see that he was clenching his jaw in an effort not to speak. He stared down at him and was suddenly seized with an unpleasant idea. What if he was wrong? He had told Charles before they left the inn that he would not push him for anything, but here he was. Charles had never directly said he wanted this after he learned the truth about him. In fact, he had expressly said he didn't. Charles had also almost admitted his love to him, but that love was for Max Eisenhardt, not Erik. He gave himself over to Max, his body, his mind, his history, not Erik. Maybe Erik was the one pressuring Charles into being something he didn't want to be. Maybe Lord Frost saw something that Erik refused to see. He reluctantly dropped his hand from the shorter man's body and took a step back.
"I don't mean to burden you. I will not force you into anything you don't want. I know the misrepresentations I perpetuated were wrong and perhaps I am unworthy of even having the opportunity to make any designs upon you whatsoever, but please believe me when I say I would never treat you as Cain did. I would never trap you nor hinder you."
"Oh, Erik, I would never think— you are nothing like Cain, not even close."
He felt some small comfort in that, but his misgivings remained.
"Am I alone in this?"
Charles stared at him wordlessly, his impossibly blue eyes still shining with so many emotions that Erik couldn't name them all.
"Am I being blinded by my uncontrolled passions once more and not seeing that you don't truly want this?"
Charles' eyebrows pulled together as if he could not understand the words he was saying.
"Or did I lose you before I ever had the chance to have you? Are my previous lies an impassable thing that will see us forever apart? I would not expect forgiveness from you, I don't deserve it, but is regard not enough to build trust upon it?"
Charles bit his lip, a confounded expression still on his face.
"If you tell me you don't want me, if you tell me I am alone in this, I will leave you be. I will neither hassle nor inconvenience you any further. If you seek to take Lord Frost up on his offer, I will not impede you. I will see you off with a heavy heart, but I won't protest if it is what you want. I will cherish what we had, but I won't stop you from leaving if it is your heart's desire. So, am I alone in this?"
Charles was trembling from all the emotions he was trying to hold inside of himself. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He shook his head though the way he was looking at Erik made it clear that it wasn't a denial. He couldn't say what was going through Charles' mind.
"Just give me a moment," the shorter man eventually managed to whisper.
Erik nodded dumbly in reply and watched him as he turned away, stepping towards the bookshelves, putting distance between them. He stood facing the tomes for a long while, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Erik could feel anticipation growing inside of him as he waited, the only sound in the room Charles' breaths, the ticking clock, and the cicadas outside the window.
He finally turned around to face Erik again. His face was wet with fallen tears, the paths they took leaving smudges from the powder and blushers Moira applied.
"I don't… I can't…" he trailed off.
Erik felt his heart in his throat as he took tentative steps forward, drawn by Charles' anguish.
"Charles, why are you crying?"
The omega's head tilted in bafflement and the barest disbelief.
"Don't you know?"
"I wouldn't dare to presume more than I already have."
A bitter laugh passed Charles' lips, leaving Erik with the feeling that that was the wrong thing to say. He struggled to find some way to mitigate his words, to make this right, but he came up empty. They stared at each other, unable to speak. It felt like Charles had him by the hand as they stood upon the edge of a great plunge together with safety on one side and ruin on the other and he was not sure which one the other man would lead him to.
"You're not alone in this," Charles finally admitted after an indeterminate amount of time.
He did not have the faculties to describe the relief the words imbued him with. He slowly closed the distance between them, giving Charles the chance to stop him or escape if he so wanted. He placed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly and pressed their foreheads together. Charles let out a shaky breath but didn't resist. He moved his hand slowly from Charles' shoulder up his neck to cup his wet face, his thumb brushing away the tear tracks and make-up smudges.
His lips tasted of salt and wine. He pulled away, waiting for Charles' reaction. He let out another shuddering exhale but made no move to flee. Their lips moved over one another's guardedly, cautiously, as if either expected the other to do something warranting a defensive response. It was like they had never kissed before, never learned the groves of the other's body, never spent hours figuring out how to make the other writhe and beg, abandoning themselves to ecstasy. He was not sure if it was himself or Charles, but their tongues met. The contact drew something between a whimper and a sigh from Charles. The sound pierced Erik straight through, set his insides on fire and allowed him to kiss Charles with more familiarity and fervor.
Charles made another greedy sighing noise and then threw his arms around Erik's shoulders. He shied away from the touch unconsciously, his left shoulder flaring with pain from his battle injury. Charles did not pull away as he moved his hands to Erik's hair instead, where he met another barrier in his circlet. He unceremoniously floated the metal off his head and towards the desk so Charles' fingers could delve into his auburn locks, pulling him in closer. They stumbled back into the bookshelves, Charles pressed into the corner where two cases met. The pressing of bodies seemed to stoke another flare of desire between them. He could smell Charles' scent getting stronger and stronger as he grew aroused, their kiss almost nothing more than two animals trying to devour one another.
Charles began clawing ineffectively at his jacket, his linen shirt, his trousers, and waistband. He pulled away from the kiss only so he could kiss his way down Charles' cheek. He made a move for his neck, but the cravat he wore impeded him. He began pulling at the knot, but he couldn't detangle it with only one good hand. A growl of frustration left his lips and he moved on to Charles' waistcoat instead, ripping the fabric apart rather than taking the time to unbutton it. Charles gasped but made no sound of protest as he finally managed to unbutton Erik's trousers. He ripped open Charles' linen shirt as well, exposing his pale chest and stomach. He leaned down and closed his mouth around the erect pebble of Charles' nipple. Charles shivered above him, soft moans escaping him as Erik's tongue glided along his skin to suck his other nipple into his mouth.
Charles appeared to come alive then, pulling Erik's linen shirt out of his undone trousers and dipping his hands beneath the fabric, his fingers tracing through the hair on his chest until his thumbs reached Erik's nipple. He flicked and rolled them in between his soft fingers, before a hand began making a path downward until it passed the boundary of Erik's trousers to grip his hardening length. He pulled away from Charles' chest, a harsh breath pulled from him. It was too dry and not close enough, his drawers still preventing skin to skin contact.
Their lips met again, gnashing and caressing each other in turn. The exploratory grip of Charles' fingers on his cock was stoking the need in his belly, making him want him more. Erik glanced down to try his hand at undoing Charles' trousers. The younger man turned his attention to his ear, sucking the lobe and then eventually nipping at it, his teeth sinking into the skin as his fingertips ranged up his chest to dig into his uninjured shoulder as if to punish him. A growl escaped Erik again as he finally managed to unbutton Charles' trousers, though he had no idea how he would manage to free him of it. The omega took matters into his own hands, pushing Erik back slightly so he could kick off one of his shoes and release a single leg from the constraints of his borrowed garments. Before Erik could make a move, Charles fluidly sunk to his knees and tugged Erik's trousers and undergarments down impatiently, just enough to free his straining cock. He gave no warning before he wrapped his lips around him, pulling back with a pop. Erik groaned in abandon as Charles began bobbing his head back and forth, hollowing his cheeks.
This encounter was frantic, lust soaked. They had no concept of time. He could barely remember what was waiting for him outside of this room or why they should exercise restraint and not do something like this now, not when things were still so uncertain and emotional between them. Nevertheless, he wanted Charles as he had never wanted anything else.
He reached down and grabbed Charles by the shoulder, pulling him up so he could kiss him passionately once more, pressing him back into the bookshelves. No words were exchanged between them, but they were in tune with each other, voicelessly positioning themselves so Charles was supported against the bookshelf by Erik's weight, one of his legs hitched up against his waist and the other upon a lower shelf. Charles flung an arm around his back and began pressing kisses to his hair as Erik pushed his face into Charles' neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent while his length pressed against his wet entrance before he started sliding inside him. Charles' stuttering breaths ghosted against the side of his face as he settled inside, his grip around him tightening ever so slightly. He pushed inside deeper until he was fully seated.
Illogically, his galloping heart settled its wild beating. The horrible fuzz in his head parted to allow thought. He could hear once more, the clock, the cicadas, the books shifting and shelves groaning from their combined weight. He pulled back and looked into Charles' eyes. There was no conflict on his face, no regret. He was looking at Erik like he was something he didn't understand but didn't ever want to let go of.
"Erik," he breathed out.
He felt a shiver go down his spine. This was the feeling he had wanted before when Charles first uttered his true name: this pleasure, this satisfaction, this ridiculous moment of contemplation of whether his name had ever had as much meaning as it did when it left this man's mouth.
"Charles," he replied, trying to imbue as much of his love and devotion into the name. Charles' breath hitched and it struck Erik that he probably didn't have to. He was certain he was projecting wildly. He wouldn't have been able to hide the truth even if he had wanted to.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss that was soft and delicate to Charles' rosy lips.
"I love you," Erik admitted against his lips.
Charles' breathing faltered and pitched. Erik was almost sure he wouldn't reply.
"I love you," Charles returned, emphasizing the all-too-important sentiment in such a way that left no room for questions.
It felt like some puzzle piece that had been just slightly askew was finally righted as he heard the words he longed for.
He gathered Charles closer as best as he could and began moving in and out of him. Charles sighed with ecstasy, murmuring encouragements in his ear as the leg he had against Erik's waist pulled him deeper.
He couldn't go back now. He knew it deep within his soul. He would marry this man.