Fic: Letters from Lake Baikal (X-Men: First Class, G)
title: Letters from Lake Baikal
author: ilovetakahana
word count: approx. 1080
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
characters: Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme, Erik Lehnsherr; Illyana Nikolievna Rasputina, Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin
notes: Canon AU in which Charles Xavier makes contact with the Rasputin family during the events of X-Men: First Class. Written for withlightning, with the invaluable assistance of metacheese.
Trigger warning for implied domestic abuse, as related to the original Xavier's backstory. However, this is mostly a fluffy story.
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org.
It all starts with Raven knocking loudly on the door of Charles's study. A cheerful announcement: “Mail's here, Charles!”
Erik looks down just in time to see Charles's eyes widen, to see him smile.
But even in his excitement - because that's so clearly what's going on all of a sudden, the sternly businesslike mien of five minutes earlier completely ruined - he manages to smile up at Erik, to offer an apology: “Do you mind very much if I go and get this? It's a letter we've been waiting for, you see, and....”
Erik raises an eyebrow and his hand, smiling as the other man stopped dead in his thoughts. “Far be it from me,” he said, shrugging, “to keep you from something you have been looking forward to.”
“Come on, Charles, or I'm going to open the letters without you,” Raven sing-songs. She is dancing impatiently in the doorway.
“All right, all right,” and Erik watches as Charles gets up from the desk, as he absently shuffles and rearranges his piles of documents and research papers.
What he is not prepared for is a small hand in a half-glove reaching for his.
For someone of such small stature compared to everyone else in the mansion, Charles has a surprising strength in him, and Erik is helpless in the face of his smile - and of Raven's - and he follows in their wake as the two link hands and barrel right through the corridors, only to fetch up at the front door.
Off to the side, he watches as Charles and Raven turn their bright smiles on the mailman - he almost feels sorry for the poor fellow, and he feels a little jealous, too - and soon they're giggling to each other, Charles's hands sorting deftly through the bills and the other letters.
“Here, here,” Raven suddenly crows, and she snatches three battered envelopes out of the sheaf.
Charles laughs and carefully deposits the rest of the mail on the sideboard next to Erik - and then he holds out his hand. “Here, now, I'm still going to read those out loud first, since we promised her.”
“So slow,” Raven mock-grumbles.
Erik catches his breath, quietly, when Charles holds out a hand to him. “Come, I want you to hear this, too.”
“What are you both excited about,” Erik hears himself say. He steps into the circle and immediately has to redistribute his weight: Raven catching him by the arm and leaning fondly into him.
Erik wonders, just for a moment, just when he's let these two in, and then there's a tearing sound and Raven is giggling.
Charles clears his throat, and then: “Privet Dyadya Charles, Tetya Raven. [1] This is your little Illyana writing to you again. Izvinite, [2] the paper is dirty again, but I had to give the nice paper to Piotr. How are you? Vsyo khorosho u nas. [3] It is a nice spring on the farm. I am thinking of you both often. Pishi mne. [4] Love from Ozero Baykal. [5]” Pause, and then, he looks up and smiles. “She is getting more confident, don't you think?”
Raven nodding enthusiastically, her fingers gripping his arm tightly.
Erik stares, slightly dazed.
Charles speaks Russian?
There is another letter in the other man's hands. Charles's voice shaping the plosives and fricatives of the language, hard and soft vowels and consonants.
He blinks and comes back to himself when Charles looks up at him. “Erik? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” he manages to say, after a long moment. “I - I am just surprised, that is all; I had not known you to speak other languages.”
“An unexpected, and very beneficial, side effect of my ability,” Charles says, and there's the accent Erik knows well, the rounded Oxonian words. “Do you remember when we decided to travel on separately through the USSR?”
“Vividly,” Erik deadpans. He still thinks about the hazards of traveling in such dangerous territory sometimes. If they hadn't had their abilities - well, he still makes a point out of not thinking about it.
Charles blushes, a little, and he fends off Raven's amused poking at his cheeks half-heartedly. “Well, while I was traveling through the Lake Baikal areas I made contact with a very young girl, with a very special ability.”
“Yanochka is a teleporter,” Raven says, fond and wistful. “And we think she might still have other abilities.”
“Not to mention that she has already developed a formidable array of mental defenses. I would never even have found her if she hadn't been distracted by something - when I contacted her through Cerebro she was in a fairly impressive shouting match with one of her brothers. I apologized for startling her, and she said she didn't understand me - so I skimmed the language centers of her brain, picked up a working knowledge. Enough to at least have a basic conversation. Yanochka is teaching me - us - more, through these letters, and we teach her English in our turn.”
“A little dangerous, but Yanochka is Yanochka,” Raven laughs. “Stubborn. Determined.”
“Much like some sisters I know,” Charles says, mildly, and Erik chuckles when she disengages from him and latches on to her brother instead. Her hands and arms around him, in a vaguely familiar variation on a sleeper hold, and Charles's arms coming up into a blocking position.
Erik is still thinking about it, and he watches as Charles and Raven go through the final letter. His mind working feverishly - and then, he thinks at Charles: So what have you picked up from me, then?
All the languages you know, moy drug, [6] Charles says. A hint of a chuckle in his next words. The breadth - and inventiveness - of your vocabulary is remarkable.
Bad language is, in itself, a sort of weapon.
You don't need to tell me that twice. Charles's mental voice sobers, for a moment, but he's still reading Illyana's letters and he doesn't miss a beat as he talks to his sister.
Except for the moment where he flicks his eyes up to Erik. Wounded, angry, unhappy, terrified.
There is a story there, somewhere, and Erik thinks that he'll have to get to it, soon.
But for now he loses himself in the sounds of Charles speaking a language he's never spoken before.
end
Language notes:
[1] - Hi, Uncle Charles and Aunt Raven
[2] - Excuse me
[3] - We are well.
[4] - Write to me.
[5] - Lake Baikal
[6] - My friend
author: ilovetakahana
word count: approx. 1080
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]
characters: Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme, Erik Lehnsherr; Illyana Nikolievna Rasputina, Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin
notes: Canon AU in which Charles Xavier makes contact with the Rasputin family during the events of X-Men: First Class. Written for withlightning, with the invaluable assistance of metacheese.
Trigger warning for implied domestic abuse, as related to the original Xavier's backstory. However, this is mostly a fluffy story.
Also archived at http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org.
It all starts with Raven knocking loudly on the door of Charles's study. A cheerful announcement: “Mail's here, Charles!”
Erik looks down just in time to see Charles's eyes widen, to see him smile.
But even in his excitement - because that's so clearly what's going on all of a sudden, the sternly businesslike mien of five minutes earlier completely ruined - he manages to smile up at Erik, to offer an apology: “Do you mind very much if I go and get this? It's a letter we've been waiting for, you see, and....”
Erik raises an eyebrow and his hand, smiling as the other man stopped dead in his thoughts. “Far be it from me,” he said, shrugging, “to keep you from something you have been looking forward to.”
“Come on, Charles, or I'm going to open the letters without you,” Raven sing-songs. She is dancing impatiently in the doorway.
“All right, all right,” and Erik watches as Charles gets up from the desk, as he absently shuffles and rearranges his piles of documents and research papers.
What he is not prepared for is a small hand in a half-glove reaching for his.
For someone of such small stature compared to everyone else in the mansion, Charles has a surprising strength in him, and Erik is helpless in the face of his smile - and of Raven's - and he follows in their wake as the two link hands and barrel right through the corridors, only to fetch up at the front door.
Off to the side, he watches as Charles and Raven turn their bright smiles on the mailman - he almost feels sorry for the poor fellow, and he feels a little jealous, too - and soon they're giggling to each other, Charles's hands sorting deftly through the bills and the other letters.
“Here, here,” Raven suddenly crows, and she snatches three battered envelopes out of the sheaf.
Charles laughs and carefully deposits the rest of the mail on the sideboard next to Erik - and then he holds out his hand. “Here, now, I'm still going to read those out loud first, since we promised her.”
“So slow,” Raven mock-grumbles.
Erik catches his breath, quietly, when Charles holds out a hand to him. “Come, I want you to hear this, too.”
“What are you both excited about,” Erik hears himself say. He steps into the circle and immediately has to redistribute his weight: Raven catching him by the arm and leaning fondly into him.
Erik wonders, just for a moment, just when he's let these two in, and then there's a tearing sound and Raven is giggling.
Charles clears his throat, and then: “Privet Dyadya Charles, Tetya Raven. [1] This is your little Illyana writing to you again. Izvinite, [2] the paper is dirty again, but I had to give the nice paper to Piotr. How are you? Vsyo khorosho u nas. [3] It is a nice spring on the farm. I am thinking of you both often. Pishi mne. [4] Love from Ozero Baykal. [5]” Pause, and then, he looks up and smiles. “She is getting more confident, don't you think?”
Raven nodding enthusiastically, her fingers gripping his arm tightly.
Erik stares, slightly dazed.
Charles speaks Russian?
There is another letter in the other man's hands. Charles's voice shaping the plosives and fricatives of the language, hard and soft vowels and consonants.
He blinks and comes back to himself when Charles looks up at him. “Erik? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” he manages to say, after a long moment. “I - I am just surprised, that is all; I had not known you to speak other languages.”
“An unexpected, and very beneficial, side effect of my ability,” Charles says, and there's the accent Erik knows well, the rounded Oxonian words. “Do you remember when we decided to travel on separately through the USSR?”
“Vividly,” Erik deadpans. He still thinks about the hazards of traveling in such dangerous territory sometimes. If they hadn't had their abilities - well, he still makes a point out of not thinking about it.
Charles blushes, a little, and he fends off Raven's amused poking at his cheeks half-heartedly. “Well, while I was traveling through the Lake Baikal areas I made contact with a very young girl, with a very special ability.”
“Yanochka is a teleporter,” Raven says, fond and wistful. “And we think she might still have other abilities.”
“Not to mention that she has already developed a formidable array of mental defenses. I would never even have found her if she hadn't been distracted by something - when I contacted her through Cerebro she was in a fairly impressive shouting match with one of her brothers. I apologized for startling her, and she said she didn't understand me - so I skimmed the language centers of her brain, picked up a working knowledge. Enough to at least have a basic conversation. Yanochka is teaching me - us - more, through these letters, and we teach her English in our turn.”
“A little dangerous, but Yanochka is Yanochka,” Raven laughs. “Stubborn. Determined.”
“Much like some sisters I know,” Charles says, mildly, and Erik chuckles when she disengages from him and latches on to her brother instead. Her hands and arms around him, in a vaguely familiar variation on a sleeper hold, and Charles's arms coming up into a blocking position.
Erik is still thinking about it, and he watches as Charles and Raven go through the final letter. His mind working feverishly - and then, he thinks at Charles: So what have you picked up from me, then?
All the languages you know, moy drug, [6] Charles says. A hint of a chuckle in his next words. The breadth - and inventiveness - of your vocabulary is remarkable.
Bad language is, in itself, a sort of weapon.
You don't need to tell me that twice. Charles's mental voice sobers, for a moment, but he's still reading Illyana's letters and he doesn't miss a beat as he talks to his sister.
Except for the moment where he flicks his eyes up to Erik. Wounded, angry, unhappy, terrified.
There is a story there, somewhere, and Erik thinks that he'll have to get to it, soon.
But for now he loses himself in the sounds of Charles speaking a language he's never spoken before.
end
Language notes:
[1] - Hi, Uncle Charles and Aunt Raven
[2] - Excuse me
[3] - We are well.
[4] - Write to me.
[5] - Lake Baikal
[6] - My friend