Scheherazade - Let Me Tell You the Tales of La Mancha
Title: Scheherazade - Let Me Tell You the Tales of La Mancha
Author: 10other_words
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG13
Genre: Angst, Slash, Slight AU
Warning: violence, mentions of mpreg
Summary: Let me tell you a story about a boy who chose blindness. About the fox that was tamed. About the Little Prince who returned to his beloved rose, the rose who may already be long gone.
Notes: The story in unfortunately unbetaed, whatever mistakes made are wholly mine. This story is set in the same universe as the previous work, The Mean Reds on Blue Days. I would recommend that the first story be read. This work is also set in the X3 period, a sort of reimagining of the events of X3.
Apologies as well as this story is experimental. I’m not really sure if it’s going to be that coherent, but I do hope it will be a decent read. It also draws heavily on a number of influences, namely The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly, Inception by Christopher Nolan, and Rashomon by Akira Kurosawa.
Reviews, critiques are greatly appreciated and welcomed. Thanks for reading.
Prologue
Chapter I - The Boy Who Chose Blindness
Chapter II - the Fox Who Was Tamed
Chapter III - Eins, Zwei
Chapter IV - Drei
Chapter V - The Tomorrow that is a Lie
Chapter VI - Le Petite Prince par le Renard
Chapter VII - Zwölf
Chapter VIII - et je te ferai cadeau d'un secret
Interlude
Chapter IX - Le Petit Prince Avec des il Bleu
Chapter X - The Fourth Truth
Chapter XI - Wrong and Right
Chapter XII - The Boy Who Awakened
Scott awakens to chaos. At first confused, he rapidly calms down as the familiar mind touch of his mother becomes evident.
‘Get up Child,’ he hears his mother’s voice. ‘Your father and everyone is keeping Jean and the guards busy, but you must move quickly. Careful, they’re armed with the cure.’
Scott sends a wordless acquiescence as he pushes himself to move. He winces as long unused muscles protest while healing wounds pull and start to bleed sluggishly. He staggers about, long past the strength for stealth. No one stops him though. For that he is grateful, fully aware of his mother’s hovering presence and his blanket of protection.
‘How are you, anyhow?’ Scott inquires suddenly while he pauses for breath.
He receives a brush of confusion. He clarifies while attempting to control the images that assailed him at the thought. Crimson blood. Shattered remains of a wheelchair. Limp bone-white fingers. Mud.
‘I thought you dead.’
‘Nearly,’ was the apologetic response. ‘But your father found me in time.’
Scott feels a myriad of emotions at the news. He thinks it’s impossible to parsec on a good day, more so now. Though he wants to try. Before he could even begin, he finds himself stumbling out into the open and into a sight he would never wish to see.
Without thinking, he runs. Runs towards his father. Urges his body to move faster, to block the hurtling syringes filled with the deadly cure. Pain blossoms at his back. He made it. A smile tugs his lips. Father’s horrified eyes. Mother’s near-hysterical denials. It is cold. Darkness.
Chapter XIII - Dies Irae
Author: 10other_words
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG13
Genre: Angst, Slash, Slight AU
Warning: violence, mentions of mpreg
Summary: Let me tell you a story about a boy who chose blindness. About the fox that was tamed. About the Little Prince who returned to his beloved rose, the rose who may already be long gone.
Notes: The story in unfortunately unbetaed, whatever mistakes made are wholly mine. This story is set in the same universe as the previous work, The Mean Reds on Blue Days. I would recommend that the first story be read. This work is also set in the X3 period, a sort of reimagining of the events of X3.
Apologies as well as this story is experimental. I’m not really sure if it’s going to be that coherent, but I do hope it will be a decent read. It also draws heavily on a number of influences, namely The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly, Inception by Christopher Nolan, and Rashomon by Akira Kurosawa.
Reviews, critiques are greatly appreciated and welcomed. Thanks for reading.
Prologue
Chapter I - The Boy Who Chose Blindness
Chapter II - the Fox Who Was Tamed
Chapter III - Eins, Zwei
Chapter IV - Drei
Chapter V - The Tomorrow that is a Lie
Chapter VI - Le Petite Prince par le Renard
Chapter VII - Zwölf
Chapter VIII - et je te ferai cadeau d'un secret
Interlude
Chapter IX - Le Petit Prince Avec des il Bleu
Chapter X - The Fourth Truth
Chapter XI - Wrong and Right
Chapter XII - The Boy Who Awakened
Scott awakens to chaos. At first confused, he rapidly calms down as the familiar mind touch of his mother becomes evident.
‘Get up Child,’ he hears his mother’s voice. ‘Your father and everyone is keeping Jean and the guards busy, but you must move quickly. Careful, they’re armed with the cure.’
Scott sends a wordless acquiescence as he pushes himself to move. He winces as long unused muscles protest while healing wounds pull and start to bleed sluggishly. He staggers about, long past the strength for stealth. No one stops him though. For that he is grateful, fully aware of his mother’s hovering presence and his blanket of protection.
‘How are you, anyhow?’ Scott inquires suddenly while he pauses for breath.
He receives a brush of confusion. He clarifies while attempting to control the images that assailed him at the thought. Crimson blood. Shattered remains of a wheelchair. Limp bone-white fingers. Mud.
‘I thought you dead.’
‘Nearly,’ was the apologetic response. ‘But your father found me in time.’
Scott feels a myriad of emotions at the news. He thinks it’s impossible to parsec on a good day, more so now. Though he wants to try. Before he could even begin, he finds himself stumbling out into the open and into a sight he would never wish to see.
Without thinking, he runs. Runs towards his father. Urges his body to move faster, to block the hurtling syringes filled with the deadly cure. Pain blossoms at his back. He made it. A smile tugs his lips. Father’s horrified eyes. Mother’s near-hysterical denials. It is cold. Darkness.
Chapter XIII - Dies Irae