Chapter Text
Charles sat down for breakfast in the morning and listened with half an ear and a cautious heart to Marie’s recounting of the previous night. Like a coward he had told them he was unwell and unable to attend dinner, had sent Raven and Azazel on their way after convincing them that a night in and rest was all he needed. They had been glad for the respite and he had been weak with relief. Now he was grateful to have been excused from the dinner. Just listening to his cousin’s effusive praise of the apparent charms and numerous qualities of Captain Lehnsherr was painful enough.
Marie’s excited monologue was cut short at the sound of footsteps on the stone walk outside the cottage and then a sharp rap on the door. Before Charles could brace himself, or flee, Raven called for the visitor to enter. He knew it would be Lehnsherr before the man appeared before them, his knock as precise and sharp as ever, but he was still unprepared for Erik’s sudden appearance in the small kitchen.
And before Charles could brace himself, there he was, as though eight long years had passed in only the blink of an eye.
In many ways he looked just the same as the young sailor Charles knew once upon a time, and in many others he was entirely different. His features were more severe, weathered by the sun and salt spray of the ocean, his shoulders broader and figure more imposing in his navy officer’s overcoat. And yet there was the same fire banked behind green glass eyes, the same clever slant to his thin lips, the same untamable auburn hair.
Charles felt his heart constrict in his chest, the room narrowing down to the two of them suspended in breathless eternity. Every aching moment he had pressed down under firm will and years of loneliness threatened to rise up and drown him in an instant. As he stood in greeting, he rested one hand upon the white linen of the table to steady himself, sure he would lose consciousness at any moment.
“Captain Lehnsherr,” Marie was saying, grinning broadly at him, “You remember Ms. Darkholme, my sister-in-law.” Lehnsherr bowed shortly at Raven and they shared a smile.
“And this is Ms. Darkholme’s brother, Charles Xavier, who is visiting from Bath.”
He looked at Charles then, finally, and Charles’ breath caught in his throat at the forceful weight of his attention. Lehnsherr smiled with only the smallest quirk of his lips, and there was no recognition, none of the fond familiarity that used to make his gaze unbearably bright when it fell on Charles in the past. He merely nodded shortly and said,
“Yes, Mr. Xavier and I have met before.”
Raven looked at Charles, surprised,
“Have you? Charles you never said!” Charles looked at her, and then at Marie who was gazing at him curiously, but he could not find the words to answer. Raven had been so young when everything had happened, of course she would have no memory of Erik coming to visit Charles, of their quiet conversations by the fire and their long walks through the woods. Only Erik and Charles knew how deep their connection had been. Only they knew how the irreparable the tear between them was now, standing a mere room’s width apart and as known to each other as complete strangers. Worse, because there would be no opportunity to grow in confidence and friendship, no chance of knowing the man Erik was now. He would never learn of the perils and hardships he had faced in the intervening years, nor any of the joy or triumph.
Charles felt, absurdly, like weeping. He had not felt the urge to cry for a very long time, not when his mother died, nor when his step-father gambled away most of the inheritance leaving them with only the small townhouse in Bath and the influence of their name and title.
Erik saved him the embarrassment and replied,
“Yes, well it was a long time ago. I’m sure Mr. Xavier has quite forgotten all about me.”
Charles opened his mouth to protest but Erik turned to Marie. His cold, dispassionate gaze brightened when he looked upon her, twisting something in Charles’ stomach.
“I came to take you up on your offer of a tour of the grounds, if you and your brother are still amenable?” Charles watched as Marie lit up, her young features bright and lovely in the early morning light of the kitchen.
“Oh yes, of course!” she said, “Azazel has gone into town but will be back shortly, I’m sure,” she looked to Raven for confirmation and Raven smiled and nodded.
“Ms. Darkholme, I’d be honoured if you’d attend us,” Lehnsherr prompted, “if you can spare an hour or two.”
Raven, who would trek across the entire countryside if set loose from the house, grinned at him with a certain amount of impropriety and agreed, acquitting herself from the room to make arrangements with the staff.
It left only Erik, Marie and Charles, and the kitchen seemed smaller somehow without Raven’s presence. Before the lingering silence could grow awkward, Marie spoke up excitedly,
“Oh you must come too, Charles!” Turning to Erik she said, fondly, “Charles so loves the outdoors. He’d spend ages out there if you let him.”
Charles saw Erik’s face begin to turn his way again and looked down to the hand holding his weight on the table. Unable to bear the burden of that cool and distant gaze, he missed Erik’s expression when he said,
“Yes, I remember.”
Charles looked to him then, but he had already turned back to Marie, taking his leave to return to the estate for some article of clothing he had forgot. Marie went with him after extracting a promise from Charles to join them for their walk when Azazel returned. Unable to deny her anything as always, he gave his assent though it hurt him to utter the words, to see Erik turn away, his face like stone.
When they were gone, his legs finally gave way and he sank back to his seat, the untouched breakfast before him turning his stomach. He pushed it away and rested his head in his hands for a moment, finding his breath. At least the worst was over. The first meeting was sure to be the hardest, the painful crack of ice before the water could run clean again and flood out whatever memory of friendship or love remained.
They could go on now as strangers.
And nothing more.