
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1852438.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men:_First_Class_(2011)_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Erik_Lehnsherr/Charles_Xavier
  Character:
      Erik_Lensherr, Charles_Xavier, Hank_McCoy, Moira_MacTaggert, Emma_Frost,
      Sebastian_Shaw, Angel, Logan_Howlette, Kurt_Marko, Cain_Marko
  Additional Tags:
      underaged, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Erik_is_a_blacksmith, Charles_is_a
      Prince, Charles_tries_to_woo, Erik_doesn't_really_bite, Made_up_kingdom,
      made_up_world, Au_-_With_powers_modified_slightly, Au_-_medieval_setting,
      This_came_from_my_brain, Who_knows_how_long_this_will_be?, I_don't, Kurt
      and_Cain_are_bad_bad_people
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-09 Chapters: 2/? Words: 1222
****** Down in the Courtyard the Little Dove Coos ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     The King of the West Sector is dying, the Queen is lost in her cups.
     The North is looking for new lands and new conquests, The East for
     stronger allies, while the South enjoys prosperous incomes and fair
     weather. Can Prince Charles hold his land, become the man his lords
     and ladies need to be - all the while staying sane from threats and
     abuse?
Notes
     Sometimes I have urges to write things, this is one of them. All I
     have to say is that I hope you guys enjoy my first few set up
     chapters, and that this is my first Cherik fanfic so please go easy
     on me! ^^; I love feedback, so tell me what you love and what-not!
***** Chapter 1 *****
The courtyard was quiet, the sun was just beginning to warm the stones of the
street as the shops began to setup and start harking about their wares.
Peasants walked by with heads hung low, either overburdened by packs on their
backs or not wanting to chance meeting the eye of some lordling or knight
strapping for a fight. Erik squinted, the early dawn light reflecting off of
his metal work, casting an array of lights against the walls and ceiling of his
smithery, as well as much to his displeasure, his face.
When it came to smithing none was better than Erik, he could make the metal
sing without even bringing a hammer to it. Ever since he honned his Talent, he
hardly had to use any of the tools the other smiths did. He prided himself with
it really, his metal was more pure, less flaws meant less deaths and less
deaths meant better business. Better business meant more gold, more gold meant
a happy Erik. All in all it was a circle of good, there was hardly a customer
that denied Erik's prowess in the field, of course there hardly was a customer
that would. At least not when the burly sword-for-hire named Logan was normally
seen sulking about his wares. Erik wasn't too troubled about it, he didn't mind
Logan's company they had ample things to talk about, Logan kept the outlaws
away and he always bought Erik an ale at the end of the day. For whatever
reason Erik couldn't comprehend, but he was never one to turn down offered
drinks.
Though it was still the morning and it would hardly do to start drinking now,
though he was tempted to, when the King's men oozed out of brothels and
barracks alike. Heralds sprung to duty once the streets were more lively,
baying on about events happening in this area or the next, that the King is ill
and the Prince's sixteenth name-day is arriving and the King is commissioning
smiths all across the Western Sector to create the finest crown for the Prince.
All boring things really, though when the herald cried out the price of the
commission Erik froze, Logan - who had taken to sleeping by the bellows -
groaned and sat up.
"Did I hear 'em proper?" He rubbed at a bleary eye.
"You did." Erik breathed, his eyes widening slightly, a hefty sum such as that
would allow him to move his smithery to a better neighbourhood, one where
knights frequented more than peasant farmers.
Logan groaned and stood, flexing his muscles he looked at Erik with a raised
eyebrow. "You'er going to do it aren't you?" He mused, a kind of sly amile
forming in his lips. "A wealthy smith like that needs a sword at hand, and I
am-"
"The best at what you do, yes, yes Logan." Erik smirked. "I have heard your
many drunken rants." He chuckled at the others expression, humming slightly
when the sellsword mumbled something about not ranting when he was drunk.
With the news from the herald to set him up for a good day, he went about
tidying the smithy, giving Logan some coins he sent him on his way to buy more
coal for the furnace. As the sellsword was leaving Erik's attention was dragged
more towards the center of the square, eyes narrowing slightly he watched a row
of city guards marching towards him. Scowling slightly he turned and put what
coal was left in his stores onto the embers. Using his poker to stir them about
he looked over his shoulders and frowned at the three guards standing at his
counters.
"Are you Erik Lensherr?" The least stupid-looking one asked.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" He snapped, frowning when one of them parted only
to blink when a rather handsome boy stepped forward.
"Oh good!" The boy grinned at him, looking at him as if he was a knight in
armour. "I have been looking all over the city for you!"
"Er..."
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Things get a little interesting, Charles gets a little interested,
     and Erik starts to be of everyone's interest.
Chapter Notes
     Ah yes good, another chapter, this one is from Charles' POV as the
     other was from Erik's. I find it will be easier to have the planned
     story flow if I do it this way. But it wont be a pattern like
     Charles, Erik, Charles, Erik. I will however make the beginning
     obvious to who's POV it is. Everything is still hunky-dorie so you
     don't have to worry about those nasty chapter tags right now, or for
     a while actually. Once again tell me what you like, what you don't,
     and what I can do to make this better. Tah!
Charles blinked, turning to look at his guards he furrowed his eyebrows, gaze
moving to the captain of his guard as he approached he pouted slightly.
"Hank, I don't think this is him..." He frowned further when the disappointment
was obvious as he met minds with one of his closest friends. Looking back at
the maybe-Erik he tipped his head studying him as Hank frowned slightly, or the
best he could manage being mostly animal. "Hank don't be blue. Charles smiled
at him slightly and put a hand on his shoulder.
While this mental exchange happened Erik had jumped at tge sight of Hank, his
initial surprise catching Charles' attention and bringing his gaze back to the
smith. "Areyou Erik Lensherr?" Charles raised his eyebrow, leaning on the
counter and going up on his toes to meet the man's gaze. "I really do need to
know, it is a bit important. " He flashed him a grin, eyes twinkling with
mischief.
"How important?" The maybe-Erik raised a brow at him, causing the prince to
puff his chest slightly. "Because if this Erik Lensherr is in trouble I am not
him." The smith set his jaw, a kind os steely pout formed on his lips.
"And if Erik is not in trouble...?" Charles grinned, his whole body seeming to
light up with the excited energy. "If this Erik Lensherr is quite the opposite
of 'in trouble' would you be him?" He hummed. "Or shall I call you Maybe-Erik
in my head for the rest of this conversation? " He smirked slightly, making the
maybe-Erik huff and a somewhat soft expression form on his face. Wait.. had
that been a laugh? Charles grinned, lifting himself he sat upon the counter,
watching maybe-Erik's eyes snap from his legs to his face. "Poo what a proper
man." He looked at Hank over his shoulder in time to catch the roll of his
eyes.
"The opposite of in trouble.." maybe-Erik murmured, moving to turn and stir
coals that had started to burn. "How much is this Erik fellow.. Not in
trouble?" He looked at Charles over his shoulder with a slightly wolfish grin
and Charles would be damned if that didn't make his heart jump.
"Charles be careful..." Hank's voice echoed in his head. "He looks dangerous."
Charles looked at Hank with a raised eyebrow. Smirking slightly he began to
swing one of his legs.
"I know. He practically purred, making Hank's cheeks darken some. "Well." He
sighed allowed, looking at the maybe-Erik. "This 'Erik fellow' as you so call
him, is in so littpe trouble, that I am personally inviting him to dine with
myself tonight." He hummed a smug expression on his face. "And if you would be
so kind to pass that onto him - since I can assume you know him, I would be
very grateful."
Charles hopped off the counter, wiping his hands free of the soot he cated not
for his clothes. "You have a fine day, maybe-Erik." He beamed, turning to walk
through the guards and the crowd that had gathered before mounting his steed.
"Perhaps I will see you at dinner then?" He winked with a smirk, turning his
horse's head and trotting along the road, his guard having formed up around him
in the time being.
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