a/n:Huzzah readers! I'm kind of nervous about this chapter, because I'm skittish about my sex writing skills. To be perfectly honest with you guys. And things may not be all that chipper between them. Because, you know. Religon. This is going to be a little difficult to write, but not as hard as the previous chapter, because this has been bouncing around in my head ever since I first began this story back in July. So, it depends, I might just finish this faster than chapter fifteen which took about three or four days to write. Anyway, spring time in our little universe!

Chapter Sixteen: Sins of the Father

He is hiding. Outside, he can hear the distant screams of other people, people he'd grown so close to in his short years of life, who seem like strangers now, where the sounds of their distress warps them into faceless monsters. His mother usheres him to be quiet, pressing a finger to her lips as she closes the door. In her haste however, she leaves it open a crack, and he can see them when they knock the door down.


Spring arrived. And with it, Erik's sickness passed, giving Charles the chance to heave a collective sigh of relief. Charles had stopped seeing him almost as soon as his fever went down, he was so nervous. He could never remember a time when he'd felt so relieved and forboding at the same time. He was happy that Erik was healthy once again, but he was still more than a little afraid about how their lessons would go now. He felt as though he had stumbled upon something private, had seen his friend in one of the most vulnerable moments in his life. It felt as though he had invaded somehow, intruded on the man's most private moments. Charles didn't feel right about it, and he didn't know how to go about dealing with him now that he had seen such a frightened part of him. Giving a low sigh as he shut the book of Proverbs with a loud thump, he resolved to say nothing. That seemed to be the prevalent solution to everything these days.


To Charles' horror and Raven's utter delight, Cain returned shortly after Erik's fever came down. Dreading the moment when they would see each other, Charles had attempted to hide as well as he could from him, but eventually his father forced him out. To his surprise however, Cain seemed even more determined than he to avoid him, and whenever he was in his presence, he put up a superb act of pretending as if Charles didn't exist and went about his business, following his father into silent, brooding meetings and secretive assignments off in the town. It is strange and unnerving and gives Charles the feeling of being something contaminated.


It was raining harder now. Since he'd woken up, there had been the usual light spring showers that he'd always enjoyed as a child, but now the rain poured down on them so viciously it was as if the ocean had spit up on itself. Erik watched it from his doorway, his eyes narrowed the slightest as he looked in the direction of the house. He doesn't understand. The boy had left him. Had seemingly lost all interest in him at all. His lips curled at the thought. In the end, Charles really wasn't so different from the rest of them at all-sure he'd had his fun playing with him, but once the novelty had run out, he'd discarded him as if he were just another one of his toys. What had he been thinking anyway. Charles had just been another distraction, something to kill time with until the time was right. It was only fitting that the boy should grow bored with him only a few months before the deadline. Then Erik could kill Sebastian in peace, without any semblance of guilt on his part.

Charles deserved it anyway.

For being that thing's spawn.

For toying with him.

For leaving him.

Erik can still feel his cool hand on his cheek.

My angel...


Sebastian never had visitors. Business was conducted entirely in the town, and the citizens knew never to come to the house and ask for a blessing. In fact, if he were to look back, Charles had never seen anyone besides his family come to the estate unless they were servants, and all of them, save for Erik, had been here since he was a young child. So he found it exceedingly odd when he saw the man, someone he had never seen before, sitting at their dinner table one evening as if he were here everyday.

Father gave him a significant look as he sat down, warning him with his eyes against saying anything. Instead, they continued on with their conversation as if there was no one but them in the room, Mother the only one who appeared to be observing them intently.


It didn't take long for Charles to figure that he did not like this man. There was something slightly off about him-he was a large, greasy man, who smiled through his teeth, giving off the impression of pain-stricken rodent, rather than anything reassuring and he gave off the air of someone who would sell his own mother if it benefited him, rather than someone you could place confidence in. Father apparently did although he never quite indulged who he was, or what he was here for, and he would often have Charles run himself ragged doing errands for them, rather than have the servants do it, which he found odd. The man, whose name was Waleran if he recalled correctly, would only sneer at him and then look back at his father in approval, as if the boy had proven himself worthy of some difficult act, and the two of them would go back to their mutterings and their meetings. Charles could only hope for the times when he could get away from the both of them, to get to a place where his skin was not crawling.


Emmaline was busy combing Raven's hair when she brought it up to him, and Cain had to bite his tongue, not wishing to say too much in front of the child.

"Has there been anything particularly...obstructive, since that little incident?" she asks smoothly, parting a piece of the girl's hair, and giving her a light tap when she flinched at the pain.

Cain's eyes darted. It had been weeks since the assassination, and despite Sebastian's fervent reassurances, lately things hadn't been going exactly as planned. Things seemed to be following apart a bit actually. Suspicions were already being brought up at conferences.

"What would make you say that?" he asked quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

Emmaline tsked. "Please. Even I can notice how much more..." he paused with an expression as if she had tasted something vile. "Forceful he's been with Charles. I know my husband enough to know that he normally treats the boy as if he were a flower-delicate, as if he cannot fend for himself. If he is ever violent to Charles, it is to reinforce his place. Or if he is upset about something. Now tell me, from what you've seen, which is it?"

To be perfectly honest, Cain hadn't the faintest idea how he was supposed to tell the difference between one beating and another-pain was pain as much as he could recall.

But his uncle did seem to be edge lately-Waleran was proof enough of that.

The man made his skin crawl, and he shuddered at the thought of some of his statements about the church, most coming way too close to blasphemy for Cain's liking.

In short, he doesn't really have an answer, at least not one that he can give. And this almost scares him more than anything.


It is raining. Charles' hair is getting drenched, and he can practically hear his father screaming in his ear once he returns home. But he needs to be alone, at least for a little while, and he hasn't had the oppurtunity to be by himself since their 'guest' decided to show up and treat him as if he were one of their servants. He is also snide and condescending with a mocking smile reserved just for him. This wouldn't be so bad if he weren't constantly questioning Charles' allegiance to his father.

"Yes, but how much do you love your father?

How much are you willing to do for him?

How well do you think he is spreading the word?"

It is awkward and embarassing, and he wishes he could make him stop, because at the moment, his loyalty is conflicted; but whenever he tries to tell his father about it, he is scolded fiercly. And if anything, Father seems to be encouraging Waleran's behavior.

So tonight, he walks by himself through the estate, thoughts stormy.

He knows he shouldn't be bothered by the man-he must be humble after all. Really, he hasn't done anything really awful except make him uncomfortable. And he shouldn't be so uptight about it. It isn't his place to, unless his loyalty really is questionable, and that thought is unacceptable.

It is then that he realizes he has wandered near their garden. And as he looks at the small seedlings, his thoughts instantly turn to Erik.

He is a terrible friend.

Crouching down, he buries his face into his hands, he feels a wetness between his fingers and he cannot convince himself that it is just the rain, no matter how much he wants to.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, knees beginning to cramp painfully, body soaked, shivering alone in the cold.

"And what're you doing out so late by yourself, Mausi?"

Charles freezes, and turns slowly towards the voice.

"Erik?" he says breathlessly. He has appeared almost as an apparition, staring down at him, as rigid as if it were as warm as the day they first met. Erik's gaze when he looks at him, softens just the slightest before hardening again.

"Well, come on, you're freezing."


"Dammit, Charles." Erik sighed, grabbing him by the shoulder. "You're going to get sick if you don't come inside."

"No!" Charles says loudly before collecting himself. Looking down at his feet he adds surily, "I can't go in there."

"Why not?" his brow creases in concern before turning in the direction of the house.

"I just-I just need to be by myself for a bit. Ok? I just can't-I can't stand being in there for a while." Charles instantly feels ashamed when Erik looks down at him. He's being horrid.

"Come on then." Erik repeats pulling him along. "I think I've missed out on enough lessons as it is anyway."


They ended up playing chess instead of getting much learning done. It was enjoyable anyway, and Charles could almost say that he was having fun. That is, until,

"So what troubles you, Mausi? What brings you out into the cold this evening?"

His fingers froze as he stared at the board. He let loose a long sigh. Cain's hands seemed to be crawling all over him again, while Waleran looked down on the two of them and smirked.

"Things have been-difficult-for a little while."

"I imagine, since you seem to have forgotten all about me lately."

Charles gives a quiet gasp and looks up at him in shock. The man's tone is bitter, and he seems to be glaring at him now, the teasing tone from a moment ago gone.

"I swear to you my friend," he replies hastily. "I meant nothing by it. I do not wish to offend you or-"

"Offended?" Erik scoffs. "What use am I after all, to the master of the house? I know when it is my turn to entertain."

Charles doesn't quite know what to say to that.

His gaze falls to his hand.

"There is a man here." he told him quietly. "And I know that I am supposed to be kind to guests. I know that I am not to judge who have manners different from mine. And yet-the way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me as if I were a child, or as if I were stupid, or-or-" he swallows. "Forgive me, Erik. I am being prideful." Erik simply stares at him over the set, eyes vaguely curious.

Charles sucks in another breath, speaking slowly. "F-father...it would seem that no matter what I do he is angry with me. It is as if I can no longer please him. And I get the feeling that he is preparing me for something I likely can't handle. Or at least something he doesn't think I can. And that is why he is upset with me. I wish I could find out what it is that he wants-so that he won't-won't-"

Do notcry. he silently admonished himself before sucking in yet another shaky breath.

"And my cousin...he-he is-"

Charles shut his mouth quickly. It would probably be best not to talk about it. What would Erik think of him?

There was a heavy silence while Erik simply sat and stared at him, an inscrutable look on his face.

"Why do you let them do you let them treat you like this, Charles?" he said finally, his voice quiet.

He gave him a confused glance. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you see how they're manipulating you? Can't you see how poorly they treat you? How many times has your father beaten you the past few weaks alone? I have heard him, around the place. And all while your mother doesn't even seem to recognize you as her own son. Why do you let them do this to you, Charles? Why?" his tone is almost pleading.

Charles only smiles at him. "Oh my friend." he replies with the slightest chuckle. "It isn't like that at all."

"You just told me that you've been falling apart because of this!" Erik said incredulously. "You just said-"

Charles lowered his eyes. "That is not what I meant. I only wish for some way to make him happy."

"You are lying to yourself, Charles." Erik said breathlessly. "How can you continue to try and please someone who is so selfish?"

Charles looked affronted. "My father has only the interests of the Word of God and how best to spread his message of love with the people. It is why he is a bishop."

"Or because he is only interested in getting money out of the townspeople." Erik replied bitterly. He was going too far and he knew it, but ever since he had met Charles, it seemed as if he couldn't maintain his cool for anything.

"Preaching the word of the lord is a humble work." the boy insisted firmly. "My father has told me that it isn't something you profit off of."

He let loose a harsh bark of laughter. "Charles, honestly. I'm beginning to think that you are stupid." He spread his hands out in the direction of the house. "Look around you, Charles. After what you saw in the town, can you honestly say that you are living humbly? And how do you think you can afford all of this? The servants, the food, the fine clothing, the hot water, anything?"

Charles swallowed. "My father works as a landlord as-as well."

"Yes, and do you know what a landlord does?"

He avoided his eyes. "Did you even know that the church takes the majority of the town's money in taxes? It's supposed to be for the benefit of the church so that people can worship 'properly', I suppose, but most of it goes to benefit your father and his colleagues."

"My father-my father has recently acc-accepted the oppurtunity to further help people by becoming-becoming pope. He-he is trying to do good." Charles continued to insist weakly. His hand shaking.

Erik suddenly thought of something. "Tell me, Charles. What does the pope do?"

He paused and crinkled his brow in thought." As the pope, Father will serve as the mouthpiece of God. It is a duty given only to those who have proved themselves to be worthy of God's praise." He paused. "It is a humbling oppurtunity."

Erik only glared at him.

"Charles, the pope has authority over the king."

"The king?"

Erik was floored.

Charles stared down at his own hands. "I may not be certain of what it is exactly that my father does when he is off in town. Nor am I exactly sure what my-my cousin does with him. I do not know why Mother is so distant with me. and I do not know why my sister is becomes so angry with me sometimes." He looked up at him. "However, I do know that, deep down, all anyone wants to do is good. People are genuinely good at heart and all anyone wants is to the best for everyone. That is why I cannot get angry with any of them. I know that we do not always get along, but I know that they only want what's best."

He gave him a small, nervous half-smile, when he looked back up at him.

And that's when Erik realized that they didn't deserve him.

None of them deserved to have someone so naive, so innocent and pure living with them. They didn't deserve his smile or his kind words. Emmaline didn't deserve to have given birth to him, Cain didn't deserve to be able to grow up with him, Raven didn't deserve his trust or his confidence.

And that thing, that monster didn't deserve to have someone as loyal and blind as him under his was disgusting and it was unfair that Charles had to live in this place.

It wasn't fair because he knew that eventually, whether he believed it or not, Charles, in his naiviety and kindness would end up being just as dangerous as the rest of them.

And yet all the same...he-he couldn't help but wonder if this is why he was so attracted to him in the first place. Is that why he found that he couldn't keep his head around him lately? Or was this just the result of long-restrained lust? It didn't matter. It was all the same now anyway.

He stared at him for a very long time before replying. He drew in a ling, slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking. It was time that he got what he had been avoiding out of the way, before he made anymore mistakes avoiding it.

He could hear his mother screaming.


He was looking at his hands again, and would not look up at him.

"Oh, Charles." Erik sighed. "Charles."

He rose to his feet, and went to sit closer to him, Charles' eye still averting his. "I have been so foolish. So foolish about myself. I don't think I have ever been so stupid about my own emotions. So...in denial. It is only now that I realize what these feelings...what they are." He reached down to touch Charles' face almost imploringly.

"Tell me, Charles. Do you deny these feelings?"

The boy finally looked up at him, and he saw that his eyes were red with unshed tears. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"I do not."

The kiss was crushing.


Raven was bored. She was bored and she was growing annoyed. Father and Mother were busy scheming or whatever they did with the other two, Cain looking nervous and tense, as if he were being condemned, and and that strange Waleran man, grinning as if he owned the damned place. Being alone bothered her a lot more than it should've lately. She wondered what Erik was doing right about now. Laying back on her bed, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof.

The two of them hadn't been talking for awhile, so she shoul'dve felt better. She should have...

She pounced from her bed to the floor, pulling on her shoes, then hesitated. It really didn't matter all that much did it? She shouldn't care. But then...Charles had been acting a bit troubled lately.

Surely it wouldn't mean much if she went to check up on him.

Raven made her way to his room, tip-toeing through the house, and knocking lightly on his door. When he didn't answer, she pushed the door gently open.

"Charles...?" she inquired softly.

The room was empty. She frowned. Curiousity piqued, she wrapped her cloak tighter around her and looked his window, at the pouring rain, the sky streaked with the occasional, violent stroke of lightning.


There are perhaps three of them at the most, but their presence suffocates their small home. They immediately begin knocking things over, tearing things apart as his mother cowers in the corner, hand clasped tightly over her mouth, the other hand clutching tightly at her robe, covering herself. Erik trembled in the cabinet, hoping against all hope that these bad men would just leave. And now-now they were hurting his mother! He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them away. One of them grabbed her by her hair, throwing her to the ground and the largest of them moved in, laughing and kidding around as if this were all some kind of horrible joke, and now they were all moving over her and-

Erik had him against the wall, licking and biting at his neck ravenously. Charles' eyes were tightly shut, his skin flushed and his hands pressing lightly at his shoulders in a feeble attempt to fend him off. He could barely suppress a whimper.

"Oh, Erik, please." he said breathlessly, with a desperate shake of his head, chest heaving. "We mustn't."

Erik only held onto him tighter. "I do not care much for your fears right now, Charles." he breathed harshly into his ear. "I know that you desire it as much as I." His hand lowered to his trousers, "For the touch that you have even denied yourself."

The boy's voice cracked when he spoke next, his eyes seeming elsewhere. "I-I do not know how, Erik." He added almost in a sob, "I have never felt it until-"

"Shh, shh. It will be alright, my little angel."

He had waited too long for this-much too long. And now here he was, sweaty and trembling beneath him, so beautiful and whimpering. His precious Mausi...

Erik grabbed him by his chin and kissed him fully on the mouth, and he could feel Charles' knees buckling.

He parted from him, and the look in Charles' eyes-reluctant arousal, and the look of mingled excitement and fear, filled him with such a strong wave of need, he began to feel his last pretense of control slip away.

Charles let out a shocked gasp, as Erik violently tore at his clothing, and he could feel the hard, fleshly warmth of his member against his thigh.


"Hush, hush little mouse." he murmured pressing reassuring kisses along his face. "It will be alright. You will enjoy it."

Charles paused before a moment, collecting his breath, gazing at the floor for a moment before gathering himself. His stomach fluttered, and his chest burned, and he had never been so afraid and yet so desperate for something in his life. He wasn't even sure he knew what was happening-only that Erik's kiss, Erik's touch set off something inside him, something like a great fire somewhere deep down in his soul. The feeling this man gave him, of being posessed and desired, made him open his legs just the slightest, barely aware of what he was doing, and struggling to get the thoughts of how this was wrong, wrong, WRONG! out of his head.

He opened himself up to him, and Erik more than eagerly obliged.

His hands were hot, rough, exploring, and they were all over him, revering and searching.

When the fingers, a little fumbling, found some space between his legs, he felt them prod until they parted him, until he shoved them inside.

Charles gave a sharp yelp in shock and pain, tossing his head back against the wall.

"We mustn't." Charles breathed again. But Erik was looking at him, and he was drowning.


Shivering in the rain, Raven was beginning to feel more than a little bit foolish, the downpour soaking her to the bone. Mother would scold her severely if she was caught running the risk of getting sick again. She wasn't sure what she'd hope to find out here-even now she felt the soft trickle of doubt pull at the back of her mind. It wasn't really any of her business was it? But still, she pressed on, wrapping her cloak more tightly about her, eyes searching.

The grounds were empty, lonesome, and partially flooded, her feet squishing in the ground.

It didn't take her long before she saw the servant's quarters.

She hesitated outside the door, hand trembling. What did she think she was going to say to him? What was she doing here in the first place? What did she hope to achieve? Drawing breath, she placed a trembling hand on the door, and pushed it open just the slightest.

The door was open just the slightest so that she could see, but that was enough to freeze her in her place.

Raven could not say exactly what she was seeing at first. Her eyes registered, and yet they did not believe.

Erik's back was to her, and Charles was pressed against the wall beneath him, eyes scrunched tight shut, mouth hanging ajar. For a brief moment, Raven attempted to convince herself that Erik was simply trying to help him with something, trying to-trying to-

But they were much too close together, Erik was moving much too harshly, much too quickly for this thought to even fester for long.

Their movements were foreign, yet somehow familiar, a mimicry of the few times she had seen her mother and father do the same, in stolen and forbidden moments. Her breathing was shallow, and vaguely she wondered how they did not hear the sound of her thundering heart, her hand shaking on the door.

Erik's body moved, twisting just the slightest and Charles jolted upward, his eyes springing open to the ceiling. His mouth openend in a sound that was half-pain, half-ecstasy, but Raven did not hear it.

Her ears felt as if she had been dunked under water, like the time she had attempted to drown herself so that the servant could save her, the blood rushing violently to her head as her eyes burned as if rejecting the sight. As if through a foggy mirror, she saw Charles' lips move, whispering something into the man's ear.

She backed away slowly, her knees weak.

"C-Charles?" she whimpered.

She did not recall running.


When Erik entered him, Charles had let loose a loud yelp of pain, and his whole bodt had shook violently and he could feel himself beginning to reject the man's touch.

That made Erik angry. He had frowned, and placed a hand onto his mouth and the boy had reached a hand feebly to lift it off. He felt maddend, ravenous, and he felt the slightest bit of outrage, and he found that for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to cause him utter pain, to hear him scream and cry and plead, to make him feel on the outside what his insides were feeling, to make his body burn with the hatred and horror he felt at himself.

He shouldn't be so weak. He shouldn't be giving in like this. Even now, he hated himself for allowing himself be so easily swayed, so easily distracted. How could he even be feeling anything at all for this boy? But Charles was filled with heat, and his mouth was letting out the most delightful sounds, and he was oh so very sweet. And his body marked so beautifully, it was all he could take not to mark every part of him, just to see that beautiful coloring. Charles' eyes were blown, looking dazedly about him, unseeing. His mouth was bright red with saliva, and a sheen of sweat matted his hair done in tangled wisps, and he let loose the most gorgeous sounds. It was precisely how he could've imagined it to be.

And yet, Charles' eyes sparkled with tears.

He is mewling like a kitten, his hands clawing at the back of his head, legs wrapping tightly around him, pulling him closer, his chest heaving, and his body begging for more, oh so much more, please god don't let it stop here, don't let it-

And yet, Charles is crying, face soaked with tears, his breath shuddering in a sob of pleasure.

"I love you," Charles breathes into his ear and his heart shatters to hear the words. "I love you." he whispers again, against his ear, and he is in so much pain.

Erik has never seen something so beautiful.

It doesn't take him long after that.

The wetness sticks to the back of the boy's legs, dripping down between them, and it is then that Erik stops to think that this was his first time. His first time coming, his first time being taken. His blood drips to the floor. Erik lays against him for awhile, his head buried into his neck, listening to the ragged sound of his breathing as he watches the blood form into a small puddle beneath them, mixing with their seed.

It was probably a minute or so that they stayed like that, before Charles' knees gave out, and he slid to the floor, taking Erik with him.

He was sobbing in earnest now, and he curled into himself.

Erik stared at him dully.

"You did not enjoy it."

But Charles shook his head violently at that. "I have never felt something so-so-I have never enjoyed something so much." That fact seemed to crush him, make him smaller, and there seemed no end to his crying. "I love you, Erik." he said again, and the words seemed to crush his very being.

Erik wanted to say the words. Wanted to return them, to wipe his tears away and say that everything would be alright after this. But he knew it would be a lie.

"We have sinned. We have sinned." Charles muttered.

Erik could only see his mother's face.

He pulled Charles close to him, rested the boy's head against his chest, and gently stroked his face, letting him rock against him.

"My little mouse." he whispered into his hair, but he could not find what words to say.


There was another man now, a large man swathed in a cloak, large stone rings gleaming on his fingers. He presided over the affairs coolly.

She clutched herself when they were done, shaking violently, face buried into the floor. The men only laughed, only now Erik knew that they were not men, but the monsters Mother had told him about in stories. Monsters with scales, who breathed fire, and poisoned everything they touched, monsters that stunk of the dead and had snakes for toungues.

Only now there were no heroes to stop them.

There was another man now, a large man swathed in a cloak, large stone rings gleaming on his fingers. He presided over the affairs coolly.

"Hurry now with the heathen woman," he said impatiently. "We still have many more to go, and I just got word that my son has arrived." They all looked to him as he skimmed through pages of scripture, looking bored

One of them took his sword and for a moment Erik saw it glint in the dim light, before he closed his eyes and let everything go black.

a/n:1/30/12 Omg. This is not as good as I wanted, and way later than I'd intented, but bughui I was suffering THE BLOCK for a long freaking time. I hope this isn't disappointing...

I knew when I started that the first sex was going to be more on the violent side, but I'm not too good at the shmex scenes. *covers face* And that ending scene...I fucked that up...