Raven soon departed with Emma, clearly not being welcome and not getting anywhere with releasing Charles. When Erik gave the two a moment's privacy, Charles had whispered to his little sister conspiratorially that he wasn't leaving until all of his people were out of captivity. Then, he'd fondly told her to say hello for Charles and Jean to his niece and little nephew. The two had been Jean's charges until recently.
Jean was still shaking, but Charles had convinced her to go to sleep in his bed. Erik, despite ordering Charles to share his bed, had given Charles his own room. Charles stayed by her side long after she'd gone to sleep, hoping to ease her mind and make sure she didn't have any night terrors. Not for the first time, Charles was consumed with guilt. This was a young girl, only eighteen, and he was the reason she was in this position. He was unable to defend his people from invaders, and they suffered for it now.
He'd tried to ignore it, but he could tell who was locked in the cells below. He'd been painfully familiar with their minds when they served under him, so even the faintest echoes of brainwaves from them would allow Charles to identify them.
Darwin, Alex, Scott, Hank, Sean, little Jubilee, Kitty, Bobby, and so many others. Charles felt sick knowing what their fates were.
Looking at Jean, he worried over her fate.
He hadn't missed how she still wore her engagement ring. Scott had finally built his courage only a month before their capture, realizing that while he was being afraid of the consequences, the two were wasting precious time when they could be together. However, Charles didn't like the thought of them rashly marrying, even if capture was imminent, so he had denied them marriage, telling them to wait until they were thinking with clear heads. He'd still had been holding on to the hope of winning.
How foolish he'd been.
Now, the two star-crossed lovers were separated, possibly forever.
Charles would move the stars for his people, and these two young ones were no exception.
Charles left her to sleep then, telling himself to get her an ointment for her irritated skin and believing her to be having a dreamless, exhaustion-fueled sleep. Erik stood right outside the door, anger in his gaze. Charles wished he knew what Erik was thinking, why he was obsessed with Charles, why Erik was always angry.
"You should allow her to be a nursemaid again. She'd be good for your children. She wouldn't have allowed Pietro to run around unattended. She's very good with children. She's the best nursemaid you can ask for," Charles suggested hopefully, smiling gently up at Erik.
"Why would I allow that? She's loyal to you, to your fallen kingdom. Why would I give her free access to my children? She could poison their minds, make them hate me, disagree with me," Erik replied, scowling. Charles was surprised at the animosity, but forged on.
"So could I. I am loyal to me, to my people, yet you allow me access to the children and even encourage our interactions. If this is stemming from some irrational fear of telepaths, your fear is misplaced. You should fear me over her. However, she and I both would never do that. She's a sweet girl, very attentive and passionate. She would pay the most attention to your children that a person could, and she's good at connecting with children," Charles replied, leveling his steely blue eyes on Erik.
"Should I restrict your access to my children as well?" A smirk played on his lips, and his arched eyebrow looked more beautiful than Charles ever thought an eyebrow should look.
"I think they would riot if you did," Charles replied.
"But I think all telepaths would connect well with children. They could control them easily," Erik said, scowling again.
"No. You can't fake good childcare. Mind control leaves lasting affects, and it wouldn't explain how the children loved her when she was gone. She is just good with children. Besides, if you think I'm wrong, she can no longer control anyone, not that she ever did. Test it out. Allow her an afternoon with the children in her care," Charles challenged, not breaking eye contact.
They stared at each other for a while, neither willing to submit. Finally, Erik relented. "One afternoon. If the children dislike her, or I sense that she is not good for them, she'll never be allowed near them again," Erik growled, moving closer despite his frustration, or maybe because of it.
"Thank you." Charles had been broken of calling Erik Your Majesty early on in his enslavement, but it was still odd to say it aloud. He felt as if Erik was gaining some personal victories every time he called him aloud by his name. In Charles's mind, Erik didn't know that he was known as Erik; Charles may be losing mentally, but Erik was only winning if he knew. Maybe Charles's logic was flawed, but it was his only comfort. Reality was so much harsher.
Erik crowded Charles in, making Charles shuffle back into the wall behind him, Erik following him. Erik's arms went up to meet the wall, forming barriers all around Charles to cage him in. Erik wasn't allowing Charles any personal space, and Charles would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the warmth of Erik's body so close to him. Erik's hot breath fanned Charles's face.
Charles's heart was beating a fast, staccato rhythm that he couldn't track, the drummer boy of his body unable to maintain calm in the face of this enigmatic man. Charles wished he could read him, even if it was just his body language, but Erik remained- excruciatingly, infuriatingly- a mystery to him.
Charles finally couldn't take it anymore; he couldn't take the silence, the waiting, the unnerving gaze of this self-established King. He breached the gap, beseeching Erik, "Please, quit leaving me in suspense. I can't take this anymore."
"What do you want?" Erik implored, staring into Charles's normally-serene, blue depths. Now, they were as turbulent as the sea before a storm- as Erik felt.
"I want you to stop this waiting. It's been a month since I've been captured, and you've only made me share a bed with you. I can handle beatings, rape, even death, but I cannot take this waiting anymore! If you're going to torture me, do it. If you're going to rape me, do it; if you're going to kill me, do it. Whatever you're going to do, just do it and cease this waiting." By the end of his rant, Charles's voice wavered with contained fear, and his muscles shook with adrenaline.
Charles didn't like the thought of any of those futures, but it still seemed preferable to this suspenseful existence. Charles never knew if he should fear for his life or his virtue, his body or his soul. He just wished he knew how to feel; what sort of danger was he in? Charles at one point had the ability to know every thought and feeling of the people around him. Now, with his powers stripped from him, he just desperately wanted to know something. Not these vague feelings that hung in the air without context, leaving him wondering what caused each pang, each ebb and flow of differing emotions. Charles couldn't hold off the waves, nor could he swim in others' thoughts. He was at the mercy of the waves, leaving him wanting more or drowning in too much.
Erik leaned closer, causing Charles's breath to catch in his throat. Erik's nose brushed his cheek, the metal bender breathing in deeply. "When I take you in bed, leaving us a tangle of limps and bedsheets, you will be a willing participant," Erik murmured against Charles's lips, causing goosebumps to erupt all over Charles's skin as his eyes darted from Erik's lips to his eyes.
Erik was too close- too close.
"However, I will take a taste," Erik whispered, his lips plunging down to meet Charles's. Charles's eyes widened momentarily, shocked and horrified and frightened.
