Heyy could you please write smth amazing maybe a fic about Charlotte and Henry,i love them so much🥺😍and maybe smth about Matthew and charlotte too♥️♥️😍🥺
Of course! Thank you so much for the amazing request! I missed writing about the Fairchilds :)
Characters: Charlotte Fairchild, Henry Fairchild & Matthew Fairchild
Charlotte opened her eyes and jumped to her feet, speeding to the bathroom, where she promptly heaved into the toilet.
“Lottie?” Henry asked from the bedroom, concerned. “Are you alright?”
She heard him shift to get up.
“No, don’t get up.” She said, “It’s—I’m fine, really. I feel better.”
“You don’t sound better,” Henry said.
“Yes, well,” Charlotte said, getting to her feet. “I did just spew what felt like my entire stomach.”
“Lottie, are you sure you’re alright? I can easily—”
“Truly, Henry, I’m fine. I feel much better now.” She quickly added after gurgling and spitting out some water to get the fowl taste out of her mouth.
She re-emerged from the bathroom to find Henry sitting up, his face etched with concern, “Besides,” she pointed out. “Your bath chair is all the way over there.”
“Yes, I only realized that while I was insisting on getting up.”
Charlotte felt a soft giggle make it’s way up her throat. She crawled into bed beside him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. When they were both sitting—as they were now—it was quite evident that Henry is much taller than Charlotte. She closed her eyes and listened to his heart beat as he folded her in his arms, which were warm and strong, from pushing his bath chair around all day.
He preferred to do it himself, he’d confided to her one night. When other people pushed it without asking him was when he truly felt paralyzed, not being able to control where he was going.
Charlotte dug her face into his chest, smiling as he kissed her hairline.
“Just make sure to visit the Brothers tomorrow,” he said quietly. “in case it’s something serious.”
“You worry too much,” she mumbled, “but I’ll make sure to stop by tomorrow. Just for you.”
Even though she couldn’t see him, she suspected he smiled against her as his arms tightened around her.
She basked in the wave of calmness that went through her at being in Henry’s arms before gently peeling herself away to lay down on the bed. She propped her head on her fist as she watched Henry rearrange his legs so that he could lay down.
A dark shadow tried to creep into her mind, but she shoved it away.
Not yet, she thought to herself.
Henry lowered himself and looked into her eyes, and looked as though he knew exactly who she was thinking about.
She shook her head and laid down on the pillow. She moved closer to Henry and let him hold her close to his chest. His steady breathing made her eyes close slowly, his familiar, lovely scent warming her enough that it lulled her to sleep.
After stopping by the Silent Brothers, Charlotte didn’t remember the carriage ride back home. She didn’t think as her feet found themselves descending Henry’s laboratory, as she was suddenly at the base of the staircase, her eyes wide with shock, staring at Henry’s back as he worked.
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there when Henry finally turned his chair around, jolting when he saw her standing there, pale and wide eyed.
“Lottie,” he said, “Have you been here this entire time?”
Charlotte shook her head, swaying on her feet.
“What is it, darling?” Henry said, wheeling towards her. He blanched, “Did something happen in the Silent City?”
“I—” she couldn’t quite find the right way to say it, so she just blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
Henry stared at her and blinked. His lips parted, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Are you sure?”
Charlotte nodded, her hands drifting to her lower abdomen.
Lottie!” He laughed.
She felt herself choke out a laugh of her own. She was so dazed, so shocked and amazed, that she didn’t remember much of what came afterward. The next thing she remembered was sitting in Henry’s lap and kissing him, tears streaming down both of their faces, for neither could believe the miracle they were blessed with.
Miracles, Charlotte suddenly remembered.
She pulled away, “Wait,” She said, holding Henry’s face in her hands. “There’s more; they’re twins.”
Charlotte nodded through her tears of joy. She couldn’t see Henry’s facial expression but she knew by the way he held her tight that he was ecstatic.
“They’re genders can’t be determined yet, they have to do a further investigation—”
“To hell with the genders,” Henry said laughing. “They’re twins!”
Charlotte laughed, shaking her head.
Henry put a hand to her abdomen and looked up at her, his smile lighting up his entire face, his green eyes crinkling. Charlotte matched it, unable to think of anything other than how blessed they both were.
Days later, Charlotte found Matthew sitting on the floor in the room where Will said he’d be. It was completely empty, save a window right across from where he was. His face was blank as he stared out of it.
She looked at him for a moment before crossing the room and slowly sitting down beside him. She had been meaning to meet with him for some time, but had always told herself it wasn’t the right time. It was only when a boy stopped by her house earlier that morning, that she decided she’d waited enough, the boy’s bravery giving her enough strength to go out and find her son as soon as he’d left. Now, neither Fairchild said anything as they looked out the window, at the snow that was delicately drifting to the ground.
Finally, Charlotte spoke, her voice hoarse. “I thought if I gave you space and time, that it would heal you.” She paused. “But it seems that all it did was tear me apart slowly each day.”
Matthew’s silence continued, but she felt that he may have shifted slightly.
“When you came back from the academy, I knew that something happened, that something changed within you, even though there seemed to be nothing to suggest that change.
“I also knew that after my miscarriage, you couldn’t seem to look me in the eye. That you slowly began crumbling apart. I know I’m not there most of the time, but I know that it’s been a while since you’ve been alright, Matthew. What I had dismissed as the woes of adolescence, was actually something much deeper and painful.” Her eyes remained fixed on the window, seeing, but not processing what she was looking at.
“It was painful to lose one child, but even more painful to lose another to despair.”
Matthew made a noise, as if to say something, but he stopped himself. After a while, Charlotte continued.
“You can’t argue that there’s nothing the matter. I find it strange that ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ has been your favorite book for so long, when so many other children usually change their favorite, as they find others that resonate with them more. To me, it indicates that you’re either stuck in the past, or you see yourself in that book, and that terrifies me, for Dorian Gray is not the kind of character you’d want a loved one to relate to.
“What hurts me the most, however, is that I can’t help you. That every time I try to get close to you, you push me away. It hurts me as your mother that you seem so intent to push away my affections. It hurts to know that I failed as your mother to understand what the matter is and to help. I know that nobody can carry your burden for you—whatever that burden may be— for your weight is for you to carry alone. It is what you came to this earth to do, and the lesson you came to learn. I know that it has to be you alone, but I can help make it less painful and difficult, if you could only let me.”
She stopped speaking then, letting the silence fill the room.
“You haven’t failed as a mother.” He finally said, quietly.
Charlotte closed her eyes, resting the back of her head on the wall and hugging her knees. “Then why does it feel that way?” She asked softly.
“Because I don’t want you to love me.” He said after a long moment of silence. “You haven’t failed as a mother; I’ve failed as a son.”
Charlotte managed to keep her tone even as she looked at him and said. “And why’s that?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“You can,” She said, putting a hand on his leg.
Matthew looked down, pressing his lips together.
“If I tell you a secret, would you be willing to consider telling me yours?”
Matthew finally looked at her and she caught a glimpse of when he was younger, a small child with the fairest of hair and the light blue eyes, falling asleep on her collarbone as she worked well into the night.
She took his expression as a yes, and spoke. “I know you hated me when I sent you to the academy. How angry you were that I enrolled you without asking first. When I dropped you off, you wouldn’t hug me back or even look at me. Believe it or not, I had a reason for sending you away, and it wasn’t because I wanted you to make new friends.” She swallowed. “There was a rumor going around that time…about Gideon and I.
“I didn’t care about what other people said about me, but the problem was that the rumor, it was about you, too. I almost considered ending my term that year, because while I ran for Consul and accepted the implications that came with that, you didn’t choose to be my son. You didn’t choose this life, and I didn’t want whatever I did to affect your own life.
“Instead, however, I sent you to the academy, where I hoped you’d be protected and shielded from those rumors. And I truly believed that worked. Until now, when Alastair Carstairs came to apologize to me personally and told me what happened all those years ago.”
Matthew looked up, surprised at that.
“Henry is your father, Matthew. I wanted to reassure you that nothing amorous has ever occurred between myself and any other man, especially not Gideon. I see him as a brother.”
“I know that, Mother.” Matthew said quickly. “Of course you’d never do…that.”
Charlotte looked at him sadly. “I wish we never had to be in such a position where I had to tell you as such. I wish you would have asked about the rumor. I can’t imagine it being something easy to be told.”
“It should have.”
“What do you mean?”
“It shouldn’t have had such an effect on me. I should have known better.”
“About what?” Charlotte asked.
Matthew looked up as if noticing her presence, and quickly looked away, shaking his head. “Alastair apologized to you?”
Charlotte nodded slowly. “He’s a good boy,” she said. “A good boy who was dealt a bad hand in life. He has his own burden to carry as well, though he’s already on the right path. Sometimes, we add burdens on top of the ones we were meant to carry, which hinder our passage through life. Today, I saw him let go of something that was weighing him down for a very long time. I think it’s time you did the same.”
Matthew closed his eyes, exhaustion evident on him.
Then, he looked at Charlotte.
“What if you end up not wanting anything to do with me, once you realize what it is I’ve done?”
Charlotte felt like this was the eye of the hurricane; the moment where everything would come crashing down. She got déjà vu, of a time when a seventeen-year-old with dark blue eyes sat on a stool before her, took a deep breath, and said the unimaginable.
This time was no different.
“Matthew, I will love you no matter what, for you are my son and nothing will ever change that.”
Matthew took a shaky breath.
“I did a terrible thing, mama.” tears were falling from his eyes, “An unforgivable thing.”
“Tell me, Matthew.”
“I killed her.”
Charlotte felt her heart stop. “Who?”
“Your unborn daughter.”
She exhaled in relief. “Oh, Matthew, that was not your fault.”
“But it was. I slipped poison into your scone that day. It was me, Mother. I killed my own sibling. I killed them before they had a chance at life.”
Charlotte was taken aback. She felt her face pale and her world come crashing down. Matthew got one look at her face and burst into tears. He turned away to get up, but Charlotte grabbed his arm and crushed him into an embrace.
She was in such a state of shock, her movements felt as though they weren’t her own. She vaguely remembered lifting a hand to stroke her son’s fair hair. Nothing had made sense to her at that moment.
She wasn’t at all horrified by what Matthew had done, but more so that it had happened. It had happened so long ago, and he’d lived with that shadow over his head for that entire time.
She’d always assumed that Matthew had grown less attached to her because he was horrified at what had happened that day, but never did it cross her mind that it was because he’d felt he killed his sibling.
“It’s alright, darling.” She whispered, pressed her lips to his temple, her heart breaking. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“How could you say that?”
“Because everything happens for a reason.” She said softly, combing his hair with her fingers, “I’ve long accepted the fact that the child I was carrying back then was simply never meant to be born. Destiny had something else in store for our family.”
Matthew swallowed. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you, Matthew. Though it’s not my forgiveness that you need.”
Matthew pulled away from her embrace and wiped at his eyes. “I don’t think I could ever forgive myself, Mama.”
Charlotte felt her lips turn up. It’s been a long time since he’d called her that. She knew that he was already one step closer to forgiveness, to happiness. “You will, my dear child. I know you will. I won’t let you fall.”
Matthew looked at her. “You truly aren’t horrified? It’s not a lie you are feeding me?”
“Matthew,” Charlotte said, playfully. “When, in your seventeen years of life, have you ever seen me give a little white lie?”
“Never, I suppose.” He said, his lips turning up a little, even as he hugged himself.
She put a hand to his cheek. “That’s right.”
Tentatively, he went to rest his temple on her shoulder. Charlotte pulled him in close with her arm.
“I love you,” she said, kissing his head.
“I love you too.” Matthew smiled, wrapping his shaking hands around her waist.
Later she’d tell him about the twins. Right now, however, it was about them, about building the bridge that had been burned all those years before.
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