twentysomething

(THIS IS HOW WE DO IT)

Fandom: X-Men: First Class

Pairing: Intended AlwaysaGirl!Charles/Erik, Raven/Hank

Length: 1000 wordsish.

Warnings: uh REGENCY GENDERSWAP AU?????

Notes: So, I have this thing about Regency AUs where I like them to be het because seriously, my historically minded soul will not let me do anything else? Otherwise, I have to deal with stupid, horrible prejudice and the fact that two dudes could not get married in their awesome breeches and it makes me REAL SAD so INSTEAD I offered this to thehoyden and rageprufrock who are off in Spain and cannot decline creditblame. But who are all about this shit.


Miss Charlotte Xavier had not progressed, by dint of four seasons without a successful marriage match, to being almost upon the shelf through a lack of offers. It certainly was not her dowry, ripe with loaded coffers and profitable estates, nor her disposition, which was considered by the entirety of the Ton to be completely without fault or ill-will. As she was also in possession of a considerable comeliness, enriched with clear blue eyes and fashionably milk-pale skin, it was not an unbearable hideousness that prevented her from being affianced to any number of eligible young men, either.

Charlotte had, simply enough, decided to marry for love.

It was a subject of distaste amongst many, who had not the inclination or opportunity to do so, but Charlotte enjoyed a rare sort of popularity that made this desire, when discussed in drawing rooms and over bitter hands of cards at White's, deemed an eccentricity that was silly, but harmless.

In the Xavier household, it was a bone of contention.

"Raven, I do wish you would refrain from telling Lady Chamberly that I am considering martyrdom over marriage," Charlotte sighed, carefully putting her tea cup down so as not to aggravate her headache with unnecessary noise. She strongly suspected the "lemonade" at the Darby ball the previous evening had not been strictly according to the finishing school recipe. Which, coincidentally, also explained why Charlotte had been both exceedingly thirsty and exceedingly cheerful all night. Raven managed the most unladylike snort Charlotte had ever been privy to.

"If you had to marry her idiot son, you might reconsider that denial," Raven said cheerfully, as she dangled her feet over the edge of a settee. Raven had been her parents' ward and as they had passed and Charlotte had come into her majority, Charlotte's responsibility. Raven was both an irrepressible hoyden and a walking fashion plate at the same time- Charlotte despaired of her on alternate Tuesdays and the rest of the time, rather believed Raven could be in Parliament, had she been born a man.

"Viscount Wellsby is a polite young man," Charlotte finally settled on. Raven rolled her eyes.

"And an idiot." she stubbornly persisted. Charlotte sighed again.

"And perhaps an idiot." Charlotte glanced out the window as if suddenly something- anything- might appear, but instead it was the same old Grosvenor Square, the same old people milling about. The same secrets everyone knew and not a single surprise in sight more dramatic than what flavor of ice would Raven make her purchase at Gunter's.

"Let's get out of the City," Charlotte found herself saying, immediately sorting through the stacks of invitations.

"This instant, or shall I have time to pack a valise?" Raven asked dryly, but Charlotte was already distracted by the cream-colored rectangle in her hand.

"We're going to Lady McCoy's house party," Charlotte told Raven. Charlotte was a little uncertain how Raven would react- the McCoys' property was relatively close to their own and by dint of most of the other children in the area being not only common, but dull, Raven had frequently been thrown in with their only child, Henry. Charlotte was excessively fond of Henry and had always believed that Raven and Henry would be a superb match, which Raven had alternately dismissed out of hand and threw raging fits over. She varied between following Henry in vague, sweet idolatry and spurning him violently. Charlotte could never be certain which was coming. In either case, Henry was doubtlessly safe at Oxford, tragically enough.

This time, Raven simply shrugged and wandered off, presumably to direct her lady's maid in regards to packing and probably to send a harrowing note off to the modiste to have her latest walking dress finished in time for their departure.

Charlotte herself could not be bothered about what she wore- although, twice a season or so, as a particular present, she allowed Raven pick out a dress or hat for her. Raven always enjoyed it- an unseemly amount, even- although, Charlotte always had to admit that she did look particularly well in the things Raven chose.

"Make sure you pack the slate walking dress, it makes you look less like a waifish spinster," Raven instructed, poking her head back in the drawing room.

Charlotte grumbled but instructed Sarah to take care particular care that it not be wrinkled. She also strove to ignore the fact that her most favorite dresses were all, in fact, ones Raven frogmarched her to the dressmaker's over.

The carriage ride was long, and rendered longer by the way Raven tired of her novel- undoubtedly one of those three volume ones Charlotte reads only if no one is in the house- and spent the rest of the trip talking about sailing for America and becoming a journalist. Beyond the general bred-in distaste Charlotte felt for occupation, virtually everything about the scenario was repellent, which meant she arrived at McCoy Manor with a piercing headache and the certainty that Raven would manage to ruin herself, come hell, high water, or Charlotte's untimely death.

Raven sprung forth from the carriage, hatefully sprightly and without waiting for the coachman. Charlotte sighed. Upon being received into the drawing room, she presented herself to Lady McCoy with the joyful and sweet smile of one who has systematically broken her guardian's spirit.

"So wonderful to see you, as always, Lady McCoy," Raven cooed. "It was so kind of you to invite us. What a pity Henry should be in Oxford and miss such a lovely gathering." Lady McCoy blinked, but smiled in return.

"It is so kind of you to say so, however, Lord McCoy had some accounts to attend to in Kent, so he sent for Henry to come mind me," Lady McCoy said. Charlotte had a beautiful, divine moment of peace as she watched Raven's face freeze.

"Mother, did you see-" Henry poked his head in the door. "Oh." Raven turned an unattractive and alarming shade of scarlet-puce and Henry blinked owlishly behind his spectacles.

Charlotte had never felt so content.