Physical Fatality

Master Lehnsherr

It had been a week since Charles arrived at Lehnsherr manor. He had been fed well and clothed with the finest of silks. He almost felt like his old self again. All had been in a ruckus when Charles awoke that Monday morning. He quickly got dressed and made his way to the other side of the house and down the stairs. "May I inquire what the commotion is about?" He asked a passing maid who stopped in her tracks.

"The master is returning from England. Should be here in an hour or so. Everything's got to be in top shape Miss Beatrice says." She said before moving along and Charles nodded, gulping down slight fear.

He had never met Master Lehnsherr but over the time he had stayed at the manor, he heard many things about the man. He had often heard of his cold demanding ways and his utter distaste for all people by himself. That description reminded Charles so much of himself before this all happened.

Charles was still skinny, though his body was making progress. His hair had grown nicely, falling in wonderful chestnut curls. He wore appropriate clothing for a gentleman of his occupation, after all, he was only a tutor.

"Ah, Charles dear boy." Miss Beatrice said as she walked to him. "I want you to cut up some flowers and place them in some glass vases around the manor. The place must look pretty for the master's return." She said and Charles nodded obediently. Without another word, he went to do his duty.

He was in the middle of cutting his final flowers when he heard the sound of horses outside, which in turn made him look up out the window. It must be Master Lehnsherr. He finished the flower cutting as quickly as he could and then made his way back to the dining area where he found Miss Beatrice.

"Oh, good Charles. The master is sitting in the parlor, he is in a dreadful temper. Snapping at everyone left and right. Though when I mentioned you he was eager to make your acquaintance." She said and Charles furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Me..." He said rather coyly.

"Yes! Now come, we must not leave him waiting." She instructed and Charles obediently followed her. The parlor was dimly lit, the fire letting off an orangish glow. Charles heard Miss Beatrice close the door when they entered which made him jump. He cleared his throat as he slowly walked forward. He peered out of the corner of his eye at the chair that the master was smoking in.

"Do sit so that I may see you clearly." His low voice boomed, also startling Charles. The brown-haired lad of course obeyed his master, slowly walking over to the seat across from him and sitting down. He averted his eyes to his knees, knowing that Mr. Lehnsherrs were on him.

"Leave us be Beatrice." He instructed coldly and with that, the kind smiling woman frowned and obeyed. "What is your name boy?" He asked, his voice sounding both monotone and cruel.

Still, Charles kept his eyes to his legs, "Charles Xavier Sir." He replied in a gentle tone, quite the contrast to the masters.

"How long have you been here at Lehnsherr Manor?" He asked in a similar cold fashion before he took a puff of his cigar, looking into the fire as if he was looking for something in the flames.

"Only a week Sir." Charles answered as a servant should, sounding professional and obedient. But he also sounded pure and afraid, this intrigued the master greatly.

"You do not look at me, instead your gaze is to your feet. Do look at me so that I may see you properly." He instructed and only then did Charles look up. His bright blue eyes looked directly into the master's slightly darker ones. Master Lehnsherrs eyebrow twitched when their eyes met, though it was unnoticeable to the naked eye.

"You talk in a very timid manner, Mister Xavier. Do I frighten you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side before he put out his cigar and re-situated himself in his expensive seat.

To this Charles blinked nervously. He twiddled his sweaty hands together and cleared his throat before he finally started talking, once again rather quietly. "I find that I have been frightened by many things as of late, Sir." He said before he anxiously tucked a curl behind his ear.

"Tell me of your past." The master suddenly said, sitting back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other. Now, his eyes couldn't break away from Charles.

Charles' mouth parted, he looked at his shaking hands and he gulped before he looked up and he clenched his jaw. "If it is all the same to you, Sir, I should wish not to speak of that." He said, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He often had nightmares of his past in London. He often saw his parents, scolding him. Oh, how the wrongs he had done built, oh how they judged him so. He saw them, half-burned, broken. It all shook him to his core. His ribs still pained him from the senseless kicking of drunken fraternity boys.

"A tale of woe you have?" The master asked with a confused look on his face. He grabbed the glass of alcohol from his side table and took a small sip, still never taking his eyes away.

"I believe we all do." He paused, "sir." Charles added before he coughed and looked once again to his feel. He tapped one nervously, seeing as the dim light from the fire gently reflected off the material. While he was transfixed by that, the Master was transfixed by him.

"Are your rooms to your liking?" The Master changed the subject with another question. Charles nodded with a half-smile.

"Yes, they are quite suitable for a person of my status sir I thank you for your kindness." He said softly, his hand moving to play with the stray stitching at the end of his coat.

The Master nodded his head and chuckled before he looked to the fire and scratched his brow. "You may leave." He said simply, waving his hand, and with that Charles quickly stood. He coughed once again and began to walk past the Master after bowing his head politely. He then gasped when he felt the Master's hand grab his wrist and he looked into his eyes once more. "I want you to eat breakfast with me tomorrow morning." He said, which made Charles once again confused.

"But I should eat with the servant's, sir, if I eat at all that is. Should I not?" He asked, genuinely confused if things were different in Germany than they were in England.

"But you are not a servant, are you? You are to be a tutor to my young children and for that reason, you shall eat with me. We must speak about their learning styles and things of that nature." He said, letting go of Charles' wrist and looking back to the fire.

"But why can we not talk about that now sir. There is plenty of time after all-"

"Because I bloody said so!" The Master snapped, making Charles jump and in turn go completely silent. The young man nodded his head before leaving the room, closing the door and leaning his back against it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Charles gathered himself and then made his way back to his small rooms. It had gotten rather late seemingly fast, it was already dark outside and now he was exhausted.

The rumors he had heard from fellow workers were true, the Master was temperamental and coarse. Charles was indeed very frightened of the man. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking of the Master's spiteful tone and his incredibly unrefined nature.

It took a long while for Charles to finally fall asleep, and when he finally did his mind was plagued with yet another nightmare. He awoke in a cold sweat and looked to the raging storm outside his window, taking in slow breaths in to calm himself. Charles took in one final deep breath before he laid back down and looked up at the ceiling. He listened to the sound of the rain that pattered against the glass window.

Oh, how would he live like this? Petrified of his own Master.