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Erik only stood there and watched, his face as impassive as he could manage to keep it. There was no need for it, not when Charles had never had the Bene Gesserit training; Charles wouldn't be able to catch the way his lips twitched downwards from time to time, how his eyes fogged up with a deep sadness that he tried to push away at all costs. The future hadn't arrived yet, and Charles was still there, walking around their room and sighing to himself as he read once again about his duties on Arrakis and what was its status after House Essex left by the Emperor's orders.
Still, Erik remained impassive, for both their sakes.
"I can almost hear you thinking, my heart," Charles muttered, blue eyes leaving the words he read to stare up at Erik. He could only widen his eyes at the Duke, wondering if he hadn't been as unexpressive as he thought he had. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," Erik replied quickly. The smile that appeared on Charles' lips was kind, but unbelieving.
Charles put the papers down, fingers lingering on the pages for a second more as if he wanted to read them again and make sure his mind had understood every word written there, right before letting them go to walk towards Erik. His hands were cold when they cupped Erik's face, gentle as they had always been, like Erik was something precious and which needed to be handled as such. Erik's eyes closed, learning against Charles' touch, and there was a tug at his heart at the thought that he'd lose that touch for his own recklessness.
It was Erik's mistake, he knew it well. He had loved Charles too much, too deeply, had given Charles the son he wanted, and now Charles would pay for it.
He took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away right before opening his eyes again, seeing the blue of Charles' eyes on him, kind but worried at the same time.
"I may not be as perceptive as you or David, I'm just a Duke, after all... But I know the man I shared a life with for over a decade now, and he seems to look at me like I'm a dead man," Charles said, his voice quiet in the empty room. The tugging on Erik's heart seemed to worsen, and it felt as if something was ripping it out of his chest; Still, he kept his face schooled. "You had a look on your face when we were given Arrakis earlier…"
"You're in danger, Charles," Erik whispered, the words coming out like knives against his throat. Despite what he said, Charles only smiled and nodded.
"I know. I'm aware there's a trap set for me in there. The Emperor fears House Xavier after all- House Nur is losing their power, and we're gaining it," he said with a sigh, hands still holding Erik's face. "But I have to play their game, and hope to outsmart our enemies. For our sake, and our son's sake."
"Charles-"
"Have some faith in me," Charles' voice broke then, and the usual confidence in his eyes slipped away to show the underlying fear lying there. "It's all we have now: faith and plans. But I can't keep my faith if you have none."
Erik clenched his jaw, the raw way Charles' voice sounded making him want to escape Charles' touch now, run away where Charles wouldn't be able to see his face and his shame. Erik didn't run, nor did he move, standing there and staring at the man he loved for a moment before leaning his face forward. There were no words needed for Charles to take his lips into a kiss, and the Duke's hands moved from Erik's face to his hips, pulling him closer in an embrace, Erik's own hands moving to cup Charles' face now, feeling the soft beard against his palms as well as the soft skin of Charles' cheek.
Charles hadn't had a beard when they met, face young and bare, red lips always sporting a confident smile, blue eyes playful and young. Erik remembered being annoyed at it at first, at how reckless and high-spirited Charles was; Erik was supposed to be his concubine, and yet Charles would take him on walks through Caladan, and take Erik to his favorite places, and court Erik as if he wasn't sent there to breed a Xavier daughter with the young Duke and fulfil the Bene Gesserit's plans. He ended up falling in love with Charles for the same reasons later, and giving Charles the Xavier heir — their son — for that reckless love.
As the years passed, after the Old Duke was dead and Charles assumed his father's position, time and duty seemed to harden Charles' face, his brow almost always furrowed, even if the kindness never left his eyes, and his face covered in bronze colored beard, his hair carrying some grey now.
"I fear I'll be bald in a few years due to the stress," Charles had playfully said a few years before, David fast asleep between them in the bed after a nightmare made him seek them for comfort. "And then you'll have to deal with that rather than grey hair."
"You say it as if I should mind it," Erik had countered, seeing that old kind smile on Charles' lips.
It seemed now like centuries ever since he was sent to Charles, and since they fell in love.
"Let me try, before you look at me this way," Charles asked of him in a whisper after they parted the kiss, lips brushing against Erik's with each word. "Let me at least try to escape this, have faith in me, and promise that, whatever comes next, David will be safe."
Erik nodded, and he hoped the Reverend Mother was wrong, that the Mentat's predictions were wrong, that Charles and David would be well. The kiss Charles placed on his lips next gave him some hope, but hope was never enough.
"Come to bed," Erik ended up saying, his voice quiet and weak now. They had a few days in Caladan still, they had time still, although it wasn't much. "Sleep. You look tired."
"I feel tired," Charles nodded, and he smiled then, but it didn't reach his eyes. "But I don't think I'll be able to sleep just yet."
Erik sighed, taking Charles' hands and slowly guiding him towards their bed, Charles following quietly, blue eyes staring at Erik the whole time with both reverence and sadness.
He knows, Erik thought. He knows it's just wishful thinking, false hopes. He knows there's not much time, and yet he'll stall for it, for me, and for David.
He sat on the soft mattress, legs criss crossed, pulling Charles down gently until the Duke's head was resting on his lap and Charles' eyes were looking up at him. He pressed his thumbs softly between Charles' eyebrows, running them across his brow in a soothing movement, seeing the way Charles relaxed almost immediately to his touch when he rubbed circles against Charles' temples — a headache, of course; Erik would berate Charles later for letting himself get tired enough for the headache to start. It was quiet and peaceful, and Erik wished he could stay there forever, in that small moment where there was still peace.
"I should've married you," Charles whispered, his eyes distant as the words left his lips, and Erik felt that tug in his heart again.
"Stop speaking, Charles," Erik whispered back, gentle but sad either way. Charles' lips curved into a smile again, his eyes closing and hiding the fear and gloom that appeared there for just one second.
-
Erik felt his whole body ache, less from physical pain than he thought he'd feel. He wished the pain was physical, wished his body ached from bruises and cuts, and not from the idea that Charles was gone, and Arrakis was back in the hands of the House Essex.
He could still be alive, Erik thought to himself, hoped to himself. Charles is smart, and he knows how to fight. He might be alive. We might see him again.
In front of Erik, David looked through the few things they had gotten, his face a mask of pain that hurt to see. He had been calm before, or at least as calm as one could be in the situation they were in. Erik had trained him well, and David had enough of Charles in him to know how to behave in a crisis, being fifteen or not. But the calmness had gone away after they pitched the tent in the middle of the desert, after they were safe as they could be, allowing a moment for both of them to relax and finally think about what had happened. The memory of David being punched after trying to use the Voice was still maddening, the pride in seeing his son doing it after still blinding, the anger as Erik himself used the Voice to kill those men still burning.
At the very least, Erik found comfort in knowing his son was alive, touching his own stomach gently at the memory of the fetus growing inside of him. Charles' daughter.
Charles has to be alive, Erik kept going, a lump heavy inside his throat now. His daughter- he has to meet his daughter. He'll love her. He needs to know her.
David stopped all of the sudden, Erik's attention going back to the boy as he pulled something out of the small bag, Erik's breath catching immediately once he saw what it was.
The House Xavier ring. Charles' ring.
David looked up at Erik, a lost gaze in his eyes, but Erik only stared at the ring, his thoughts a mess as he felt his world crumbling down.
I thought we had more time, rang inside Erik's head, Charles' voice just a day ago saying those words. Time had ended for them, and Erik had to fight an instinct that told him to leave the tent, to walk aimlessly through the desert until his steps attracted the sandworms and he was put out of his misery.
His promise to Charles and his love for his son were the only things keeping him alive. Charles was gone, but David was still there, and David needed him. His daughter needed him too, small and not yet formed; and it hurt to know she'd never see Charles, never feel the warmth of his arms and the comfort of his smile, but he had to be there for her, and for David.
He felt his face wet all of the sudden, realizing the tears that were leaving his eyes — What a waste of water, he thought bitterly to himself, wishing he didn't care as much.