That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui
a/n: I'm not supposed to be writing this. Once again, as I try to focus on one fandom, another one comes out of the blue and beats me in the face with pairings. In this case, X-men: First Class and Cherik, or Charles/Erik. It's one of the most wonderful pairings I have ever witnessed. *bursts into hysterical fangirl tears* Um, ahem. I've already had a story out for this pairing and while I like the other story very much and am working on it as we speak(*shameless plug* go read it now and review it's amazing!), I made a prompt on the kink meme that did not get filled! _ So I felt the urge to do it myself. Even though I didn't want to, because number one my Internet service doesn't work so my updating scheme is going to be retarded as hell, and secondly I have so much work to do in other stories that I plan on finishing, that I'm already behind in and I'm in summer school and erg. Anyway, hope you enjoy the story either way and PLEASE review, they're like water to me. Also, I think you should read the a/n's sometimes cuz there might be important stuff.
**This story contains some elements of the movie Atonement, but I actually haven't seen the movie yet, and another story that someone wrote. I'm trying to be as historically accurate as I see fit, but this story is set in no specific time frame and events may seem a little out of place. That's all for now.
Summary: In a time run by corrupt clergymen and religious fanatics, Erik Lensherr is a revolutionary sent to infiltrate the home of Sebastian Shaw, a sick and twisted member of the papacy who seeks to gain even more power as the didn't count on falling in love with his son.
Chapter One: Servant
The estate overlooked the countryside. That much Erik Lensherr knew, before they'd told him. He had two children, one that studied directly under him, and the other a little too young for that. He knew one was a girl, but he couldn't be certain of the other one. The mother was cold and manipulative-she was also taken to drink in certain hours.
If all went well, within a year, their deaths would spark the revolution.
He started his work immediately, Sebastian was not one to dolly on things like this. He was to work in the field for the majority of the day, and around noon, he could rest. He was to sleep in the lodgings supplied at the edge of the field and take his dining there. All of the servants were expected to be dutiful Christians and he was expected to join them in prayer. He wasn't to speak with the children.
Naturally, the girl took every oppurtunity she could to speak with him. She was about twelve years old and quite talkative.
"We hardly ever get visitors besides dull church people, and we can hardly talk to them, unless murmuring something in prayer." Raven told him. "It's quite boring, really. Father never lets us go into the village, unless I'm with mother and she isn't any fun at all." She did so love to talk about herself. Erik found this most useful.
Charles didn't get to see the servant until two weeks after he started his work. Erik caught him in between commuting from the church and his lodgings. He'd fallen over, carrying an obvious limp and Erik had offered him a hand, lifting him to his feet. The boy had blushed, his pale skin turning a bright red, and his eyes looked worried, but sparked with interest at the man before him. He'd mumbled a soft and nervous 'thank you' before seeing his father behind him and scurried off.
"Oh, that was just Charles," Raven told him, when he'd inquired her about it later.
"He is your brother?"
"Yes, but father keeps him studying the scriptures all day. He is hardly ever allowed to come outside except for prayer and if Father needs to make some sort of very important appearance somewhere. But mostly he keeps him out of things."
Raven, being a girl, was not privy to as much attention from her father as her brother. Sebastian and Emma apparently took certain roles and so Raven was more under the care of her mother than anything, and that had spoiled her. As for Charles, he was the sole heir to his father, and he'd had his own plans for him, and kept him away from worldy things.
Raven liked to watch him in the fields. He found it a little amusing, her in her frumpy and dull dress, her now loose hair blowing in bedraggled strands against the wind. She had a crush on him, that much was obvious.
Charles was seventeen, three years his junior, but whenever he so happened to see him, he seemed so much younger, his eyes wide and curious. Then they would return to weariness, whenever he was abruptly returned inside. This intrigued the man.
One day, it was apparently decided that Charles was to begin taking some of his lessons outside, as his confinement was beginning to make him sickly. He sat legs crossed, leaning against the stone wall of his home, eyeing the servant curiously. He'd never really seen men so hard at work before-it fascinated him. He couldn't really see them that well but he found the man very interesting. Usually all he got to see was Cook, who was a portly impatient man, and the maidgirl, who always seemed as if she were somewhere else. Neither of them ever gave him much oppurtunity to start a conversation. Now, however he was content to look at the bits of nature that father told him would lead to temptation if taken for granted. Every little leaf or insect or bird that fluttered by, fascinated him and were beautiful. He had stretched out observing a catepillar crawling across the ground, when he something caught his eye. It was the servant that helped him up once, though he hadn't really deserved it-he had backslided. The man looked flustered and a little irritated as he picked up the scythe to begin harvesting the crops. At first Charles paid no particular attention, but as the older man began to loom ever closer in his field of vision, his attention was immediately driven to a fine point that focused entirely on the man before him.
He was suddenly struck with something he had never felt before. As he watched the servant, lift the scythe into the air, his back muscles rippling, sweat creating a fine sheen on his body, Charles' breathing became increasingly labored. Heat spread throughout his body and pooled in his loins as Erik continued to work, his hair matted down on his head by sweat. Small noises and whimpers escaped his throat as he began to struggle with himself and this feeling. He'd never seen something so beautiful. But when he turned his head towards him, as if he could sense Charles staring at him in awe, as if he could read his very thoughts and those grey-green eyes caught his, carrying a predatory smile...
"Ah, you have escaped, kleine Maus."
Charles fled, nearly tripping twice as he rushed past the house servants and all the way towards his the monastary, chest heaving. Wobbling towards the fountain, he splashed the cold water onto his face and then abruptly dunked his head in.
He'd never seen a bare chest before.
But why was he behaving this way? And over a man? He shook the water out of his eyes, cringing. He needed to wash himself. To pray or cleanse himself, whatever, to get these sudden thoughts out of his head.
a/n: Sorry that chapter was so boring, but I just needed to set things up for next chapter. It'll be more interesting once the story gets going, but I can't skip to the angst and tragedy and shmex, right? That's why I'll prolly double update. So um, yeah.
Please review and give me any constructive critiscim you find necessary. :)