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quixotism2011-12-22 11:14 pm
bromantic.livejournal.com) wrote in quixotism2011-12-22 11:14 pm
Entry tags:
[fanfic] [x-men:first class] [children of dune] Heritage
Because X-Men fandom writes everything but the fic I actually want damnit!!
Leto reads up on mutants. He doesn't really read as he relives a distant part of himself, buried under layers of history and shadows. He reaches out and touches Charles Xavier, and finds himself confronted by an energetic, bright himself, the him he could be. They talk as his body rests.
Leto asks him about his past and Charles just laughs in his face.
Leto wakes up and he's annoyed.
Charles talks to him all the time now. Leto considers swatting him away, but he doesn't. Besides, he's curious about this other self who looks like him (not that unusual) but talks nothing like him (but sounds like him, if he was younger, more beautiful). So he lets Charles babble and compare the differences.
Mutants, Leto thought, are dead. And useless to him.
I loved someone, Charles said quietly.
You loved everyone, Leto huffed.
Not like this. Never like this, never again, and their hearts ache together, because Charles knows what it's like and Leto will never know what it's like.
He was good company, Charles Xavier, much like the conscience he never had.
There's a new priest joining his religion and Leto outlives religion, so he allows the ceremony to go on as usual. For a brief moment their eyes meet, blue and blue and Charles sparks to life.
It's him. That's him.
This time, Leto flicks him away. Now was not the time to get distracted over past lives and their inane concerns.
He calls the priest up, later. Leto relaxes on his throne (father, disheveled, smiling back at him). His eyes are blue, and he had the Fremen ruggedness sunken deep into his skin. Leto admires him briefly. Charles flits in and out of his mind, excited, sad?, excited all over again.
Erik, his mind whispers to him, Erik
Leto traces the history of his priest. Yes, like himself, he's part of a heritage he didn't even know existed, the genes resurfacing after centuries. The long-lost heir of Erik Lehnsherr. But what now? Mutants were dead, had been dead since Earth perished. What good would it be now, to make those memories resurface?
You're doing a cruelty, Leto tells Charles, It'll hurt no one but the both of you.
I still want to do it, Charles insists stubbornly.
Sighing, Leto gives a handsign for a private meeting.
The man-priest (Erik, Erik, Erik) comes up to his room. It's heavily shaded since Leto prefers not to be seen.
He has to see you, Charles says quietly, You'll scare him.
I scare everyone Leto says simply, but he allows a faint light from the windows, illuminating his face.
The priest stops at the sight, "My Lord?"
Don't let him call you that!
Charles, shut up. Everyone calls me that.
Clearing his throat, Leto says, "Welcome."
"Erik" waits, steady. There's a quiet strength to him, a steadiness Leto thought was all but lost among the human race. Leto was impressed, despite himself. Charles hums in his mind, watching him through Leto's eyes.
"Do you know your duties, Erik?"
"Yes, my lord," perfectly subservient, but in his eyes, there was power, a burning anger. Leto resists the urge to peek into Erik's past. He'll wait, drive Charles a little insane, and have him anyway.
"What do you want?" Leto says and realized he spoke outloud. He's never done that before.
Erik looks at him coolly, and Leto feels his ears drum with Charles' presence, nothing has changed, nothing, nothing. Still, he threw that calm back at Erik, poise for poise and Erik blinked, before drawing out a smile.
"I wanted to test the God Emperor," Erik murmurs, low and throaty (Charles hissed, as if slapped), "They say he is untamable."
"They presume correctly," Leto says dryly. A spy slipping into his ranks is nothing new. And the Fremen have never wholly forgiven him for taking away the desert. Insurgents are killed regularly, and Leto always overlooks the children on purpose. A very typical story, he thought, and a rather boring one.
Don't, Charles says quietly, Don't.
Leto dismisses Erik with a flick of his hand.
Leto hurts people. This was never a secret.
They sit across each other, on dunes that don't exist on Arrakis, with butterflies in the air. If Charles looked long enough, he'd see a door, with Paul Atreides standing in front of him, stoic, cold.
Sometimes, Charles knows that Leto deserves to get hurt. He's petty, vindictive, demanding. He lords over people with his knowledge and his powers, and he never tolerates failure. Boredom can invite death, in Leto's universe.
It's night outside the walls of Arrakeen, and Leto sleeps, to the knowledge of everyone alive.
To those alive and dead in him, they watch as he leaps from memory to memory, trying to drown out his own desires.
It never works. It's a temporary solution, Charles thinks as Leto slides into his memories, remembers the joy of shaping a new race, of having people love him. He never stays long, but he never forgets.
Leto tells him one night, the same thing he tells every personality, that he loved them.
It's a lie, but Charles believes it anyway.
He calls on Erik again, and waits for the pitterfall of footsteps to his tower. There used to be mirrors, to observe the growth of skin, but Leto destroyed them after Ghani's dead, a violent, unique gesture that was noted in song for years.
He dismisses the thought. If he thought of Ghani, he'd never stop, never pull himself up. (the sound of her voice, steady, her hair, the hair he held onto, preserved in his journals, strands, all he had left were strands and her echo)
Erik steps in and it is already forgotten. Leto dredges up a smile and watches him as Erik sat down. He marvelled. Did the man have no fear? No. It was there. He was testing Leto, seeing how far his patience lay.
"Why did you call me, sire?"
Leto says nothing. Erik twitched. Joy, Leto thought, this is the closest to joy I'll ever get.
"Tell me!"
"No," Leto says quietly, hearing Charles stir in his mind.
"Is this how you beat people down?"
"No."
"Is that all you can say?"
Leto's smile never wavers, but he doesn't answer.
"Then is it true that you have disturbing sexual habits?"
That was an old retort, but Charles and Leto both recoiled mentally. Charles could feel Leto seethe in his mind, heat and water. He reached out to speak to him, It's working
Leto ignores him, "And what if I do?"
"You remind me of someone," and now there was a trace of loneliness, of longing in his voice, "I see you when I take the spice."
Genetics had never been so cruel until now. Leto withdraws, looking at Charles, He wants you. Obviously.
Leto...
You have an hour and Leto flees. Charles feels a little sick himself.
Charles subsides, an hour later, and Leto notices that Erik was no longer to be seen. He stings all over, jealousy and pettiness, but mostly he feels relieved. It is as it should be.
No one should seek out the God Emperor.
He does question Charles, What did you do?
Charles hesitates, Nothing. He was just... a reflection of a man I knew. He was a different person and I'm, well... dead.
Leto points out that Charles could have tried to seize control. A common ploy, a boring one, but the option existed.
Charles laughs, kisses him (overly-affectionate. Leto knew the type) and said, "No. I'm not interested in that. But take care of him, would you?"
Leto denies him, but arranges for Erik to be treated well. He'd know if his instructions weren't followed.
They never meet again, never in a personal capacity. But Erik's eyes always find him, and Leto is content.
Leto reads up on mutants. He doesn't really read as he relives a distant part of himself, buried under layers of history and shadows. He reaches out and touches Charles Xavier, and finds himself confronted by an energetic, bright himself, the him he could be. They talk as his body rests.
Leto asks him about his past and Charles just laughs in his face.
Leto wakes up and he's annoyed.
Charles talks to him all the time now. Leto considers swatting him away, but he doesn't. Besides, he's curious about this other self who looks like him (not that unusual) but talks nothing like him (but sounds like him, if he was younger, more beautiful). So he lets Charles babble and compare the differences.
Mutants, Leto thought, are dead. And useless to him.
I loved someone, Charles said quietly.
You loved everyone, Leto huffed.
Not like this. Never like this, never again, and their hearts ache together, because Charles knows what it's like and Leto will never know what it's like.
He was good company, Charles Xavier, much like the conscience he never had.
There's a new priest joining his religion and Leto outlives religion, so he allows the ceremony to go on as usual. For a brief moment their eyes meet, blue and blue and Charles sparks to life.
It's him. That's him.
This time, Leto flicks him away. Now was not the time to get distracted over past lives and their inane concerns.
He calls the priest up, later. Leto relaxes on his throne (father, disheveled, smiling back at him). His eyes are blue, and he had the Fremen ruggedness sunken deep into his skin. Leto admires him briefly. Charles flits in and out of his mind, excited, sad?, excited all over again.
Erik, his mind whispers to him, Erik
Leto traces the history of his priest. Yes, like himself, he's part of a heritage he didn't even know existed, the genes resurfacing after centuries. The long-lost heir of Erik Lehnsherr. But what now? Mutants were dead, had been dead since Earth perished. What good would it be now, to make those memories resurface?
You're doing a cruelty, Leto tells Charles, It'll hurt no one but the both of you.
I still want to do it, Charles insists stubbornly.
Sighing, Leto gives a handsign for a private meeting.
The man-priest (Erik, Erik, Erik) comes up to his room. It's heavily shaded since Leto prefers not to be seen.
He has to see you, Charles says quietly, You'll scare him.
I scare everyone Leto says simply, but he allows a faint light from the windows, illuminating his face.
The priest stops at the sight, "My Lord?"
Don't let him call you that!
Charles, shut up. Everyone calls me that.
Clearing his throat, Leto says, "Welcome."
"Erik" waits, steady. There's a quiet strength to him, a steadiness Leto thought was all but lost among the human race. Leto was impressed, despite himself. Charles hums in his mind, watching him through Leto's eyes.
"Do you know your duties, Erik?"
"Yes, my lord," perfectly subservient, but in his eyes, there was power, a burning anger. Leto resists the urge to peek into Erik's past. He'll wait, drive Charles a little insane, and have him anyway.
"What do you want?" Leto says and realized he spoke outloud. He's never done that before.
Erik looks at him coolly, and Leto feels his ears drum with Charles' presence, nothing has changed, nothing, nothing. Still, he threw that calm back at Erik, poise for poise and Erik blinked, before drawing out a smile.
"I wanted to test the God Emperor," Erik murmurs, low and throaty (Charles hissed, as if slapped), "They say he is untamable."
"They presume correctly," Leto says dryly. A spy slipping into his ranks is nothing new. And the Fremen have never wholly forgiven him for taking away the desert. Insurgents are killed regularly, and Leto always overlooks the children on purpose. A very typical story, he thought, and a rather boring one.
Don't, Charles says quietly, Don't.
Leto dismisses Erik with a flick of his hand.
Leto hurts people. This was never a secret.
They sit across each other, on dunes that don't exist on Arrakis, with butterflies in the air. If Charles looked long enough, he'd see a door, with Paul Atreides standing in front of him, stoic, cold.
Sometimes, Charles knows that Leto deserves to get hurt. He's petty, vindictive, demanding. He lords over people with his knowledge and his powers, and he never tolerates failure. Boredom can invite death, in Leto's universe.
It's night outside the walls of Arrakeen, and Leto sleeps, to the knowledge of everyone alive.
To those alive and dead in him, they watch as he leaps from memory to memory, trying to drown out his own desires.
It never works. It's a temporary solution, Charles thinks as Leto slides into his memories, remembers the joy of shaping a new race, of having people love him. He never stays long, but he never forgets.
Leto tells him one night, the same thing he tells every personality, that he loved them.
It's a lie, but Charles believes it anyway.
He calls on Erik again, and waits for the pitterfall of footsteps to his tower. There used to be mirrors, to observe the growth of skin, but Leto destroyed them after Ghani's dead, a violent, unique gesture that was noted in song for years.
He dismisses the thought. If he thought of Ghani, he'd never stop, never pull himself up. (the sound of her voice, steady, her hair, the hair he held onto, preserved in his journals, strands, all he had left were strands and her echo)
Erik steps in and it is already forgotten. Leto dredges up a smile and watches him as Erik sat down. He marvelled. Did the man have no fear? No. It was there. He was testing Leto, seeing how far his patience lay.
"Why did you call me, sire?"
Leto says nothing. Erik twitched. Joy, Leto thought, this is the closest to joy I'll ever get.
"Tell me!"
"No," Leto says quietly, hearing Charles stir in his mind.
"Is this how you beat people down?"
"No."
"Is that all you can say?"
Leto's smile never wavers, but he doesn't answer.
"Then is it true that you have disturbing sexual habits?"
That was an old retort, but Charles and Leto both recoiled mentally. Charles could feel Leto seethe in his mind, heat and water. He reached out to speak to him, It's working
Leto ignores him, "And what if I do?"
"You remind me of someone," and now there was a trace of loneliness, of longing in his voice, "I see you when I take the spice."
Genetics had never been so cruel until now. Leto withdraws, looking at Charles, He wants you. Obviously.
Leto...
You have an hour and Leto flees. Charles feels a little sick himself.
Charles subsides, an hour later, and Leto notices that Erik was no longer to be seen. He stings all over, jealousy and pettiness, but mostly he feels relieved. It is as it should be.
No one should seek out the God Emperor.
He does question Charles, What did you do?
Charles hesitates, Nothing. He was just... a reflection of a man I knew. He was a different person and I'm, well... dead.
Leto points out that Charles could have tried to seize control. A common ploy, a boring one, but the option existed.
Charles laughs, kisses him (overly-affectionate. Leto knew the type) and said, "No. I'm not interested in that. But take care of him, would you?"
Leto denies him, but arranges for Erik to be treated well. He'd know if his instructions weren't followed.
They never meet again, never in a personal capacity. But Erik's eyes always find him, and Leto is content.