When Charles had been stuck staring out a window in Westchester, he had hardly felt time as it passed. Days blurred and bled into one, an endless march of staring at the landscape outside made surreal by the drugs. He marked time with injuries, realizing a month had passed only when he was dragged to the surface by Cain assailing him during his heats, forcing him abed for the days that it lasted before discarding him back to his corner. During that time, a year had been hard to gauge and always a surprise when he realized how much time had truly passed. Still, the year that passed in Genosha seemed to be just as quick as that, but certainly not from idleness.
Introducing Charles to Genosha as King Erik's mate and betrothed went as well as he supposed he could've expected. He was given a fair shake among the commonfolk of Krakoa. His project to build a school for Gifted children earned their approval, as did the time he spent at orphanages and charities throughout the city and his ideas about making education as affordable and accessible as possible. There were some jokes about his chastity that pervaded the pubs and bars, most likely from rumors started by the nobles who were less than pleased with his presence, but nothing that overwhelmed the public chatter about him.
The nobles fell into four categories: those who considered him their enemy openly, those who professed benevolence but secretly sought to undermine his relationship with Erik, those who were distant or ambivalent about him and those who sought to befriend him, both for selfish and selfless reasons. Charles took it all in stride. It wasn't anything less than what he was expecting. If anything, he was more surprised by how many people he genuinely grew an acquaintanceship with, if not an outright friendship.
Moira remained close as his lady-in-waiting and friend. Hank continued to seek him out over the year, especially for advice when he was being courted before he married Lady Cecilia Reyes. He also grew close to Lady Elaine, Lord Helmut, and Lord Janos as they laid the groundwork for Charles' school, the Brian Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. It was set to have its grand opening a few weeks after the royal wedding.
That event was fast approaching. It was only a week away now. Charles thought he would feel more nervous about the prospect, but he was mysteriously serene. It wasn't as if his relationship with Erik was not secure. Erik claimed him a month after his father's funeral, at the end of sheloshim, as was deemed appropriate through their consultation with Rabbi Elisha and Lady Proudstar. He and Erik had already hit several milestones in their relationship. It had been a year since they met already, and they celebrated their anniversary together. They had shared both of their birthdays together as well as the children's. They went through the period of Erik adjusting to his kingship together. They went through Charles' first heat in months together, an incredibly emotional time for him as he was sure the divorce had rendered him infertile, but fortune had smiled on him.
Their mating had been like nothing Charles ever experienced during any other heat. It was equal parts frenzied and sweet. Between the moments of overwhelming need and desire, Erik was gentle as he coaxed him to eat and drink, wiped his body down with a cold cloth to regulate his temperature, brushed his fingers through his hair and hummed a light tune to help him sleep. He made sure Charles was fulfilled in every way he needed. At the end of it, he felt strung out and sore but more satisfied than he had ever been and even more confident that there was no one else in the world he could belong with or to besides Erik.
The week of the wedding was probably the most hectic time Charles had experienced in Genosha so far, even more so than when Erik was coronated or Anya's ninth birthday soiree (which Charles had put together, his first large scale social endeavor in the country). The wedding was to be held in the customs of Judaism, so there was much that went over his head. He had some idea of what was to occur, having attended Gabrielle and Suzanne's wedding and Hank and Cecilia's, but the fact that it was a royal wedding added an extra layer of grandiosity that he wasn't certain about.
Erik had told him not to worry about it, that all he had to do was show up, but that was impossible for him to do. He jumped in where he could, adjusting menus and tablecloth colors and seating arrangements and decorations as time went along and he learned the general landscape of court more and more. Anya was by his side the whole time, learning how to take the reins of such an event. Charles hardly felt equipped to teach her, but Erik assured him he was handling things well.
Charles stood in his bedroom on a stool as the seamstress made last adjustments to his wedding suit. He was dressed resplendently in off-white silk high collared frock coat. It was embroidered with white patterns all down it, making it appear whiter than off-white, and cinched at the waist. The seamstress called it a sherwani, all the rage amongst Indian royalty apparently. On the day of the wedding, he would also be wearing a diamond and pearl tiara and shoulder necklace set, not worn since Erik's great, great grandmother's wedding, and a regal veil featuring a train. He was sure he wasn't going to recognize himself after his hair and make-up was done, but that was not today.
"You're going to look gorgeous. Like something from a fairytale," Pepper reassured him from her perch, sipping on her wine glass.
"I don't know. Don't you think you might be overdoing it? Seems a bit much to me," Tony quipped.
Charles rolled his eyes and looked back at his friends who had come over for the wedding. Tony had dropped in days early and proclaimed that as Charles' distant (very, very distant) cousin, he ought to present Erik with his dowry. He promptly offered up money, jewelry, fabrics, foods, spices and the metallic alloy he had created, much sought after for its properties. Charles had been surprised and would've gotten his back up about Tony paying his way if Erik had not been so enamored with the new metal. Charles had saved the thrashing for private but then succumbed to happiness over having his friends with him. They would be a part of his processional along with Sir Steven, Lord Rhodes and Lady Natasha when they arrived, and Moira. The rest of the York gang would be in the crowd. Logan would walk him down the aisle, the closest thing he still had to a parent.
Tony took great delight and telling him all about the fair-weather friends and ex-lovers who were practically rabid with the desire to attend the wedding or learn the least bit of information about how Charles had ended up the mate of a king, but Tony turned them all away with pleased mischief. Charles was secretly happy to hear it. Let them wonder. Tony and Pepper never mentioned Kurt or Cain. Charles was glad of it.
Lord Frost was still working on removing them from the Xavier estate and holdings. Kurt had wound himself up in them so much that to unwind the webs of his deceit and wrongdoings took time. Otherwise, Charles would've been even angrier with Tony for paying his dowry when Charles was only waiting for his estate to revert to his jurisdiction again.
"It's a royal wedding, Tony. I don't think there is such a thing as overdoing it," Charles retorted dryly as the seamstress settled the weight of the floral veil on his head. The fabric was lace and tulle with some embroidered patterns along the edges. It wasn't necessarily heavy, despite its 12-foot length, but it was cumbersome and had to be pinned into his hair carefully. He had no idea how Erik would manage the bedecken custom he had learned about in which he had to put the veil on Charles himself.
"Look at you," Tony cooed once the seamstress finished securing the veil. Charles looked over as he appeared next to him in the mirror.
"This seamstress was worth the money if she could make you look the part of unsullied prince," Tony commented wryly, but Charles could see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the happiness and pride in the color of his thoughts. He smiled widely in return.
"Well, I've got a reputation to uphold, you know? I can't show up hungover to my own wedding like some I could mention."
"I'm still upset about that, by the way," Pepper piped up, coming to stand by Charles' other side as Tony gave him a look of betrayal.
"You little minx, you didn't have to bring that up," Tony hissed in his head.
"I've no clue what you mean," Charles replied with false innocence.
"Are we ever going to table that? I would've thought I made up for that by now, Pep," Tony said aloud.
The exact wrong thing to say to his wife as she rounded on him with narrowed eyes. Charles smiled serenely to himself as they got started on their bickering, the attention taken off him in an instant. The seamstress looked at the betas dubiously, but Charles simply waved at her to remove the outfit so he could retire into something more comfortable. Just as the veil was fully unpinned from his hair, a knock sounded on the door. He reached out to see who it was and smiled when he recognized Moira's psionic presence. He telepathically permitted her entrance and refocused on the seamstress removing the clothes.
"You know you don't have to knock, dear. It's not you that I'm trying to keep from seeing me in my outfit before the wedding," he told her, ignoring Tony and Pepper's continued argument with practiced ease.
When Moira didn't answer, he turned to look at her. Her face was troubled and she was wringing her hands nervously.
"What is it? Is something wrong? Is it the children?"
"No, no. The twins and David, along with young Morgan, are still with the governess in the playroom. Anya is in the garden, overseeing arrangements with the florist."
Charles snorted a little at the last comment about his eldest stepdaughter before giving Moira a questioning look.
"King Erik and Lord Frost want you to meet them in the council chambers. They are there with the council, holding audience… with the Markos."
Charles felt himself freeze and the Starks' arguing voice tapered off into silence.
"What are they doing here? They can't be here to take you back. Erik's claimed you, you are mated. Cain can't take you, surely?" Pepper opined, breaking the silence with her worried wonderings.
"The divorce was total and complete. That brute has no claim over Charles. Besides, the king would never allow it," Tony reassured her.
Charles' mind shot off a mile a minute, wondering what Lord Frost had done or could do, whether the Markos came here willingly trying to take Charles away or whether they had been brought here by Lord Winston. He wouldn't know until he went to the council chambers and saw for himself, saw them again for himself. He reached out to Erik to send him a simple message.
"I'll be there as soon as I've changed, love."
Erik sent him the impression of his understanding, but Charles didn't delve deeper to glean his emotional state, too afraid of what he would find. It seemed like no time at all before the seamstress had him back in his standard attire and he was making his way towards the council chambers, refusing Tony, Moira and Pepper's company. He was not the same person he was when he last saw Kurt and Cain. He was a man unto himself now who could function and think for himself. He was a father to four lovely children. He was the mate of a king. He was the future prince consort of a nation. He had a place that he called home now and a place he used to call home that still belonged to him. He would face his past and he would not falter in the face of it, he told himself.
His resolve was shaken when he finally stepped into the room and took in his surroundings. Genosha's Council of Twelve sat all on one side of the table to face the two guests in the chambers. Erik sat at the head of the table with the seat reserved for Charles next to him empty, his finger tapping against the table in agitation. Charles could make out the repressed anger in his face as he stared the two alphas down with cold malice.
Charles turned to look at the two Westchesterians. Cain and Kurt stood looking down their noses at everyone. Kurt had a scar Charles didn't remember striping through his cloudy right eye and his hair was now all gray. Cain didn't look any different. He was just as much of an overbearing presence as ever. They both looked at Charles with fury, disgust and vengeance. For a second, he wanted to flee. He grabbed on to every ounce of repressed anger and hurt at everything they had done to him, everything they had taken from him and made himself stand taller. He put his mother's lessons to good use and gave them an imperious look, putting on a façade as if he were unaffected by their presence or the deafening wrathful thoughts they were hurling at him.
"Thank you for taking time away from the wedding preparations to join us, Lord Xavier. Please, sit down," Lord Frost said in opening, his voice blank but purposeful.
Charles moved to sit by Erik's side. He glanced over at his alpha's drawn face. His fist was clenched on top of the table and his jaw was set. Charles sent him a wave of reassurance and placed his hand on top of Erik's. He turned his palm up to intertwine their fingers as Kurt let out a snort of derision.
"Wedding preparations, is it, boy? I'd like to know how you weaseled your way into such a position. Did you whore yourself out to all and sundry here as you did in York?"
Charles let the words roll off his back. They were no worse than he had heard before. Next to him, Erik gave a warning growl.
"You will have care for how you speak to my mate."
"Your mate? He belongs to me," Cain growled, rather like a child throwing a tantrum over a toy.
Cain and Erik glared at one another, the two locked in a challenging gaze. Charles squeezed Erik's hand to ground him, ensuring the challenge went no further. There was no point in him getting into a physical spar with Cain. Kurt looked between the two of them with a shrewd eye before speaking, his tone a measure more respectful.
"I don't know what falsehoods my son-by-law has told you, Your Grace, but he endeavored to get a biological divorce without mine or my son's consent and stole my grandson in the process. He came to this country most probably hoping to secure some benefactor he could spin his lies with. Someone he thought was powerful and rich enough that he could live off their wealth and use them to curtail any legal proceedings we could bring against him for his crimes. Make no mistake. Charles is not the naïve innocent he has made you believe he is. Surely you know of his… unique advantages in convincing others to take his word for fact. Nothing he says can be taken at face value, certainly not the status of his virtue."
"I wouldn't preach on truth were I you, Kurt. Not when the only truth you accept is that which can be bought," Charles retorted.
"You will hold your tongue!" Cain barked at him.
"You give no orders here, boy," Lord Frost commented in a calm, cold voice.
"Lord Winston, I am surprised you are electing to entertain this. I was told your daughter was a talented telepath, I would've thought she would see through Charles' tricks if nothing else."
Lord Frost leveled Kurt with a knowing gaze.
"On the contrary, I found that Lord Xavier told a most credible story, one involving treachery and murder."
Kurt stared at Lord Frost for a long moment before shrugging.
"Lies. What tangible proof do you have?"
"I admit what I've found is circumstantial at best but leads to only one reasonable conclusion."
Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"You have nothing then."
"Nothing except me," Charles announced.
Kurt flicked his eyes over at him.
"You've spent years shoving suppressants down my throat in an effort to keep me away from your mind, as if I would want to know what insidious, abhorrent musings you indulge in. More than that, you have tried everything you can to keep me from the truth of what you did to my father. In Westchester, you held all the power. You had everything you needed to protect your dark secret. We're not in Westchester anymore. You hold no cards here. I will have the full, unadulterated truth one way or another," Charles promised him, his voice darker and more forceful than he had ever made it when addressing Kurt.
Kurt stared at him, a measure of fear in his eyes before anger overtook it.
"What right do you have to speak to me as if—"
"I have every right," Charles retorted through gritted teeth.
"The marriage you forced me into by putting me under duress of your doctor's drugs is not valid. So the Xavier estate is mine by right, the accounts are mine by right, all lands and holdings are mine by right, David is a Xavier and my son by every law of Genosha. It is you who never had any right. You had no right to steal my birthright from me, steal my freedom from me, my home, my parents, my sister, my daughter, my life. I took back what I could salvage from you. I fought for ownership of myself once more after you stole it away for some coffers and a deed. I have not been a victim of your avarice for a long time now and if you think I plan to submit myself to you again, or put my son in the same position, you are very wrong."
Cain let out a mocking laugh.
"Did all that make you feel better? Enough of this, Charlie. You belong to me, David belongs to me. You think I'm going to let some Jew bastard still you from me? Crown or no, he is not your alpha."
Charles switched his eyes to Cain before dismissing him entirely. There was nothing he wanted to say to him. He was a spiteful, rapacious creature with dull wit only living by the creeds of his base urges. Charles would not waste his breath on him. It was Kurt who set all this in motion, Kurt whose actions irrevocably thrust him into years of a painful existence.
"You owe me much and more, stepfather. The first thing you will give me is the truth. Consider it a wedding present," Charles announced before delving into his stepfather's mind with little preamble. He did not do his digging with care or kindness, he wanted Kurt to know he was there, to feel him rooting around and pulling up the long-buried threads to his treachery.
Kurt was a young man, his black hair shiny and falling to his shoulders, his clean-shaven face turned down in a frown. He stood across from a shorter man with curly brunette hair falling over his forehead, electric blue eyes and the beginnings of a mustache below his nose and running along his jawline. Brian Xavier.
Brian was looking at Kurt with a guileless expression on his face.
"Whatever do you mean, Kurt? Surely I understand you wrong."
"You heard me very well, Brian. This school of yours, your idea is just a beginning. Once we have all the Gifted children in Salem here, we can open a laboratory for testing. God willing, we will finally find a cure—"
"A cure? For what?"
"For this unholy malady. Think of it, it would sell quicker than any invention your whimsical mind could think up."
Brian frowned deeply at the other man.
"It will not happen, Kurt. Not under my watch. This school is not to gather Gifted children to become your test subjects, it is to help them to grow and learn, to lessen the hardships they face assimilating into the world at large."
Kurt rolled his eyes in response.
"Brian, your idealistic view of life must be put aside at one point or another. Are you to spend your entire existence living in your fantasy world where we all hold hands and sing songs together? It is unrealistic. These… Gifts, as history as seen fit to classify them, are dangerous things that need to be eradicated. There is no place for them amongst us normal people. It will only lead to ruin eventually," Kurt spat back angrily.
Instead of getting mad, Brian looked at him sympathetically.
"This is about Marjorie, isn't it?"
Kurt faltered then.
"Oh, my dear friend. You know I am ever so sorry for your loss. Marjorie was a friend and a remarkable woman. I admired her endlessly, but you must understand that what happened was an accident."
"An accident?" Kurt repeated, his teeth gritted around the word.
Brian looked at him with mournful but understanding eyes.
"Cain was manifesting. He didn't know his own strength, he couldn't have. If he had, do you think he would have hurt his own mother, let alone killed her? It was an unfortunate matter of bad timing."
"If he had never turned into one of those freaks, it would have never happened at all. Think of how many other innocent people are killed when these mutations take hold. I don't even recognize my son anymore. This… thing inside of him made him a murderer, made him kill his own mother. I would see this evil wiped off the face of the earth. You should want to fix your children as well."
Brian shrugged in reply.
"What is there to fix? Charles and Raven are singular wonders."
"They are a problem the same way Cain is. The same way all of them are. Imagine what harm they could do. Raven could turn into anyone, do anything as that person, and how could they defend themselves when witnesses would identify the perpetrator as them. And Charles… how could you stand to be in the same house as him? How could you ever feel safe around him knowing there is never any privacy? How could you even know that anything you're doing is not his will exerted over you?"
"You talk about my children as if they were villains in a novel, Kurt," Brian scoffed.
"They very well may become that. Cankers are cut out, Brian. Leave them to grow and the limb will become unviable."
"For God's sake, see reason. They are children, not malignant growths."
"They are a cancer to society. There is no merit in teaching or coddling them or helping them control the thing they will use to destroy us. They must be cured and if they can't be, then further measures can be taken. I am doing the humane thing and trying to find a way in which they can become like us."
Brian shook his head with disappointment.
"There is nothing wrong with my children any more than there is something wrong with Cain. The timing of his manifestation was unfortunate. It scared you, I'm sure. You don't think I was scared too, thinking my son had lost his mind as he started talking about voices in his head? You don't think it was hard for me to watch the pain he went through as the world crashed into his mind every second of every day? Why do you suppose I have not returned to the city? Can you imagine it? London at top volume every day, all day, in your head. I watched his tutor bring my son back to himself. Through the lessons of control of his Gift, he became better, stronger. That's what all these children need. They need guidance and a chance, my friend, not a cure. They are not diseased. They are gifts on this earth themselves. I wish you would see that."
Brian's speech was given with sincerity and compassion, but it only served to annoy Kurt all the more.
"You are a bleeding heart, Brian. Sentiment pours through you like a sieve, and you think it a strength, but it is your greatest flaw. You are blinded by those rose-colored goggles you choose to see the world through. I know now, you'll never see the truth. I should've known when you professed to want peasants in the same classroom as their betters. I will not support you in your endeavors to court with the enemy."
"Enemy? Cain is your child."
"He will be corrected, have no doubt of that, but not by the likes of you. I will be sure your school does not see the light of day. Your naivety is more dangerous than you seem to realize. I will do everything in my power to ensure this does not come to fruition."
"A shame. I will do everything in my power to make sure that it does. I can do nothing else, Kurt."
"This school is as much my idea as yours. There is no basis upon which you can continue without my backing."
"This school was always mine. You put your financial investment in it, yes, and you may withdraw it if that is your wish, but you have no right to tell me I cannot go forward with it and no legal grounds upon which to stop me," Brian retorted, sounding something other than understanding for the first time. He seemed to regret his harshness almost immediately and reverted to his previously benevolent demeanor.
"You must understand, my concern with this school is personal as well as altruistic. Charles and Raven need a place like this as much as any other Gifted child. I hope one day you will see that Cain will benefit from it as well."
Kurt sneered in response.
"You're a fool, Brian Xavier. A gullible, passive, weak fool. You are a waste of the alpha spirit and a disgrace to your distinction. It'll kill you one day, mark my words."
Brian took the insults with grace.
"This is where we part then, my friend."
Kurt shot him a glare before he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
He spent the next week stewing in anger over Brian's refusal to see reason and his determination to continue to build what Kurt saw as a fool's errand, an attempt to normalize that which was unnatural. More and more, he came to realize Brian did not deserve what he had. He did not deserve the house he lived in, the lands he held, the money he inherited, the beautiful wife he got to bed, the good reputation and business partnerships he had cultivated. He would not use his resources to an end that proved beneficial to ordinary people, to the right people. Kurt could do so much with Brian's wealth and power, more than that fool ever would.
A dangerous idea took root the longer he dwelled on it. Brian was beloved and Kurt even considered him a friend most times, but Brian was a dangerous man and Kurt would never make him see reason, he knew it.
Cankers are cut out, he had said.
He had meant it.
It was a simple thing, an easy thing. A few whispers here, a few coin purses there, and the next thing he knew Brian Xavier was dead, killed in a stagecoach accident. Kurt was free to call upon Sharon, ostensibly to aid in the funeral proceedings and mourning of his dear friend's wife.
It was a little thing to get his doctor to prescribe her a steady dose of opioids given how bereaved she was, not the loss of a wife for a beloved husband so much as an omega whose alpha was unexpectedly snatched away. In such a state, her agreement to marriage was assured, as was her decision to leave Kurt as executor of the Xavier fortune. She was not in her right mind enough to protest his plan to marry Charles to Cain or force suppressants on her son. When the time came, it was ever so easy to snap Sharon's delicate neck and execute his plan to retain the Xavier wealth for himself through Charles' union with Cain.
Everything went exactly as he wanted it. In the end, he came out on top.
Charles pulled back from Kurt's head abruptly, enough to make it hurt. A lone tear was running down his face as he was confronted with the full truth of it and not just the passing thoughts he had caught from Kurt over the years.
"He was only ever kind to you. He wanted to help you, to help Cain even. He saw good in him of all people and hope for his future, much of an immoral imbecile as he is."
Cain growled, but Charles ignored him.
"And you killed him, took him from this world and all the good he could've done for the sake of your prejudice and greed. That's what all of this comes down to, doesn't it? All these years, this whole… mess, it was built off nothing more than your empty materialism and overinflated ego."
Kurt said nothing, staring at Charles cautiously. He could feel the thrums of fear in his mind at what Charles would do, what he could do. It ran through Charles' mind, all the possibilities. He could dismantle his mind, take him apart piece by piece until he was an approximation of the husk he consigned Charles to be. He could trap him in a hell of his making, forced to relive one nightmare scenario one right after the other in perpetuity. He could make his brain perceive that his body was going through the most unimaginable pain, leave him a contorted, undignified mess. It would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused Charles. It would be so easy to do it.
Charles did not realize he had stood up until Erik stood up beside him. He fit his large palm against Charles' trembling hand, capturing the fingers in his own. He pressed his forehead against the side of Charles' head so his lips met his ear. Erik's scent wafted over him, comfortingly familiar. His mind was calm, not the sea of anger when Charles first walked into the room. He thought only of Charles now, his mind racing wih concern, love, understanding and compassion. Charles latched on to Erik's mind like a beacon calling him back from the darker shores of his emotions.
"I want to kill him. I could kill him right now," Charles thought towards Erik, needing his reassurance.
"You can't."
"I can. It would be easy. Like stretching a rubber band until it snaps."
"I don't mean you lack the ability. If I thought it was something you could do without it haunting you for the rest of your life, I would let you do it. But that isn't you, otzàr shelì. Kurt Marko does not deserve your guilt. He doesn't deserve the sleepless nights you'll get on the back of him. You're overcome with the weight of it all right now. Take a moment, take a breath."
Charles wanted to point out that Erik didn't lose sleep over Sebastian Shaw. He did not feel guilt over killing him or Shinobi Shaw, but it was two different situations and he and Erik were not the same men. Erik had been trained to kill his whole life as a soldier and an alpha. That was not Charles' education, and even now, he felt himself being pulled back from the edge, not quite able to make that leap into something like that.
Charles took a deep breath and wiped the lone tear away as he squeezed Erik's hand tightly to ground himself further.
"Was that enough, Lord Frost?" Charles asked into the silence.
He did not look at the head of the council or any other council members who Charles had projected Kurt's mind to for them to see what he had seen.
"Yes, I do believe so. It is clear you are culpable in the death of Brian and Sharon Xavier, Lord Marko. You did so to force their only son into a marriage with yours. That is a punishable offense."
"You have no jurisdiction to punish me and no proof upon which to do so. Charles could have fabricated everything. He has the power."
"I would think it was obvious that you would not be here without our ability to pass judgment. Granted, even in Genosha, memories dredged up with telepathy alone is not enough to sentence you to death for your actions towards the Xaviers. However, it is certainly just cause to seize all Xavier properties and holdings from you as they will belong to the crown upon Lord Xavier's marriage to the king. It is also within our rights to decide what your punishment shall be. Let your will be done, Your Grace."
Erik looked between the two men with a scornful gaze.
"For your crimes against my mate and the prospective prince consort of Genosha, I sentence you to exile. You will live out your days on a small property in Cuba under the careful watch of the crown to ensure you serve out your sentence."
"Cuba?"
Kurt stared at Erik before turning his eyes to Charles as if he expected him to say something to the contrary. A bitter smile crossed Kurt's lip.
"So this is your revenge? To shuffle me off into penniless obscurity?"
"It is far more than you deserve," Charles retorted.
Erik waved for the guards to take the two men away. Cain seemed like he would make an effort to fight, but it was a simple matter of Charles' telepathy to deter him from the idea. He watched them be taken out with his back straight and his body rigid. He remained in this posture as the council members also eventually trickled out of the room. He did not relent until the last one had left and Charles felt their minds drifting further away. Only then did he sag against Erik, his energy zapped from the unexpected but crucial encounter.
Erik wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.
"Charles?"
"I knew. I've known for years, it's just having undeniable confirmation of it…"
"I understand, you don't have to explain. Come on. Let's go back to our room. You can take some time, process."
Erik did not ask if he was alright, instead he set to wordlessly comforting him. He couldn't imagine facing this without Erik with him. He's sure he could've, but he needed Erik's grounding presence, care, and love to keep him from falling over the edge. He thanked whatever force had seen fit to make them part of the same soul so he didn't have to explain that all he wanted in that moment was for Erik to hold him until the shaking stopped.
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Once the adrenaline from his encounter with the Markos died down, Charles felt an even greater sense of serenity. He was happy to not have that hanging over his head before the wedding. His fortune was now firmly back under his jurisdiction so it could be added to the ketubah he and Erik had to sign. Some of his estate would be held from being transferred over to Erik or Genosha so David could inherit it when he came of age, but he had something to give Erik now and that did something for his sense of self-worth.
He went down to the docks when the Markos were put on a ship setting sail for Cuba. He calmly watched Cain bluster and curse as he was forced aboard and challengingly met Kurt's eyes when he glared at him coldly, trying to use his old tricks to intimidate him. Charles was unmoved. He stayed on the dock until he could see the ship no more and then took a deep breath and returned to the new life he had made for himself, resolving to let this part of his past drift away on the waves.
He threw himself back into wedding preparations, going forwards and backward over everything to be sure not a single stone or flower petal was out of place. This wedding would mark a new era in Genosha. It had to be absolutely perfect, he had to be perfect.
Before he knew it, the wedding was a day away. Only then did he get nervous. What if something went wrong? What if the food wasn't right? What if he messed up when he had to say the Hebrew formula when they exchanged rings? Erik always said his pronunciation was terrible. What if his stupidly long veil got in the way when he was walking up the steps of the synagogue or what if he or Erik tripped over it when they had to circle each other? Why the hell did he agree to a 12-foot long train anyway?
"Charles, Charles, Charles, will you stop worrying? We're at your bachelor party, leave the wedding preparations alone for once," Tony groused.
Charles looked up, realizing he was projecting his thoughts. He glanced around at the room filled with his wedding party and friends from his stay at Stark manor mingling with Moira, Helmut, Hank and Cecelia.
"You know me, I subsist on apprehension."
Tony rolled his eyes and dropped down next to him, shoving a cup of wine in his hands. Charles took it with a dubious look, staring at the glass as if it were poisoned before taking a sip. He took a few more before noticing Tony was staring at him.
"What is it?"
Tony shook his head a little, his face bearing a more serious bent.
"I'm just glad for you, my friend. I remember how you were when I first met you: a skinny, scrappy kid with a chip on his shoulder and a thirst to prove himself to the world. You were obsessed with getting back at Kurt anyway you could, even when it hurt you. I could relate because my father was an ass, but it was worse for you and I worried about you. When you showed up at my door with David, I worried even more. Sending you off to Genosha, where I wouldn't be able to help you immediately, was hard. Trust you of all people to somehow manage to snag the king of this island. Your luck is practically cosmic. Stop worrying. You're going to get married tomorrow and spend the rest of your life living in a castle with a crown on your head and the love of a whole kingdom. Only you would find a way to be nervous about that. If I'm honest, I'm a little jealous."
Charles cut an amused look at Tony.
"Are you? I'm pretty sure your castle is the only one that could rival the size of this palace."
"Maybe, but I don't get a crown."
"Thank heavens for that."
"Hey, I'd make a great king!"
"You once said that if you ever ruled a country, you would reinstate prima nocta," Charles deadpanned.
"Well, that's why you're the one in this position and not me. Stop moping. You're getting married. It's alright to relax and smile about it. Drink, celebrate."
He turned as Tony's sentiments were echoed by the others in the room, friends old and new. The joviality in the place crept past his psionic walls and lifted his mood. He smiled in response and downed his wine to succeeding cheers.
It was a long while before he made it back to his bedroom, his head buzzing pleasantly with pleasant emotions and alcohol. He dropped onto his bed, empty as per wedding tradition. He wandered out telepathically, brushing minds in the palace as he looked for his target. He lingered on the children, sending them sweet dreams and warm caresses as he passed over their slumbering minds, until he finally found Erik. He was awake, but Charles could tell he was buzzed as well.
"Otzàr shelì," Erik asked, calling Charles by the pet name he made for him.
"You never told me what that meant, you know."
"It means my treasure."
Charles cracked a smile at that.
"Yeah?"
"Is that a surprise?"
"Would you be upset if I said I still half-think all of this is a dream?"
"No. I can hardly believe it myself sometimes."
They were both quiet for a while, their minds connected and sending wordless warmth back and forth through their connection. Charles could feel the softness lulling him to sleep.
"Erik?" He said before sleep could drag him under completely.
"Yes, ahuvì?"
"We're getting married tomorrow."
"Yes, we are."
Charles laughed breathlessly to himself and could feel Erik doing the same, both high on happiness and adoration.
"I'll see you soon, shall I?"
"You will. I love you."
"I love you. Get some sleep, otzàr."
Charles closed his eyes, secure in the fact that tomorrow would mark the official new start in his life.
LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK
Charles looked out the window of his carriage. Somehow, he was surprised by the number of people standing on either side of the streets as the carriage ferried him towards the Great Synagogue. Citizens both from within Krakoa and outside of the city were lining the streets and hanging out of windows and on top of buildings cheering. They waved the flags of Genosha or various swathes of fabrics instead of it. They threw lace favors, garlands and flowers into the streets and shouted salutations, well wishes and prayers in Hebrew. Charles' lips were stretched wide as he waved back at everyone. Anya and Pietro did the same across from him while David and Wanda stayed by his side, both of them thrumming with nervousness at their roles.
He looked down at them with a smile.
"You okay?" He asked softly.
David sent him impressions of his anxiousness about embarrassing himself or Charles and Erik or dropping the rings while Wanda fiddled with her dress.
"I just don't want to rip your veil or make you trip."
Charles leaned down and pressed a kiss to both of their heads, cuddling them a little.
"Do you want to know a secret?" He started, capturing the attention of Anya and Pietro as well.
"I'm nervous too."
"Really?" Pietro asked dubiously.
"I am, truly. But we've practiced this over and over. We all know what to do. Plus, Erik will be there and we'll all be together. We'll be okay, won't we?"
The four children nodded before they all moved towards him to hug. He laughed as the four of them crowded him, jostling to get their arms around him.
He glanced out the window as the spires and towers of the Great Synagogue threw shadows over the carriage. His heart thudded in his chest as he looked up at the grand structure where Erik waited for him. Logan opened the carriage door when they arrived at the entrance and the children piled out first before he took his godfather's hand and accepted his assistance out of the carriage. As soon as he came into view, the roaring seemed to get even louder than before. The din of merriness, joy and cheer bashed into his psionic walls, but he let the crowd's good-humor infect him, buoying his own delight.
Wanda and Pietro got behind him to hold his veil while Anya, holding the flower basket, and David, holding the pillow with the rings, preceded him. They all waved and smiled for the crowd while ascending the stairs, Logan even deigning to put on a genial mask.
"Thank you for doing this, godfather."
Logan gave him a genuine smile at that.
"You don't have to thank me for this, Chuck. I'm glad to see you happy. I only wish your father was here."
"Me too. Maybe he is, somehow."
Logan squeezed his hand as they stepped into the church and the music heralding his arrival started. The people on either side of the pews stood up. Most of the joviality outweighed any of the envious thoughts floating around. There were a thousand eyes on him and about 500 hundred smiles, but he kept his eyes trained on Erik ahead of him, where he waited under the chuppah. His eyes were shining with tears and love.
Charles felt his eyes welling up as the weight of what they were about to embark on crashed down on him. His face hurt from smiling, but he smiled wider as the music cued him to walk down the aisle towards the man who shared his heart and soul.