Charlotte Xavier - A Thousand Years

Little Lion Man

When Wanda was born, she was a month early and three minutes ahead of her brother. Her mother had not expected twins, had only learned there were two children in her womb late into the pregnancy. Later in life, she had found the correspondence between her parents during her mother's second pregnancy.

Charlotte Xavier had asked him—her lover, her friendly enemy, Wanda's father—about names. "Don't name him or her after the dead." he had written. She had asked him about German names, about his middle name and past aliases. He had mentioned using Magnus Maximoff as an alias before and they had agreed it was safer not to put him down as their child's father. He had mentioned liking her name, Wanda.

When she was born, she was not even six pounds and tiny. Pietro was slightly bigger, no smaller than one might expect for a one-month-premature infant. They were both born before their lungs finished developing and so both were put on ventilators.

Her mother was afraid, so worried after the loss of her first child, but it would be years before she fully understood the twins' strength.

...

When Wanda was four, she asked her mother. "Mum, why can't you walk?"

Charlotte Xavier had never explained to her children why she never stood, why she never walked and played with them, why she was forever trapped to a chair. She had never explained that should couldn't walk, either.

Wanda had realized that by herself.

Charlotte pulled her daughter into her lap with sadness in her eyes. "Oh, Wanda." She sighed, pressing a kiss to Wanda's forehead. "It was a very long time ago, before you were born. There was an...accident. I got hurt badly. My spine was injured." She tapped a spot on her daughter's back. "And because of that, I can't walk anymore."

"An accident?" Wanda repeated. "What happened?"

Charlotte sighed. "A friend...He didn't intent to, but he hurt me."

Wanda's curiosity was undiminished. "Who? Where is he now?"

"You don't know him." Charlotte replied softly. "He...left. When he realized he hurt me, he ran. But he always regretted it." A tear slipped down her cheek.

Her daughter wrapped her little arms around Charlotte's neck. "I'm sorry, Mum." She whispered. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"I'll tell you everything one day, sweetie." Her mum said gently. "For now, why don't you go find your brother and Auntie Irene?"

...

When Wanda was six, she first learned about her father.

It was quite by accident, really. It was.

After learning about her mother's paraplegia she'd looked it up after her mother had told her the basics, she was wary to ask too much about her mother's past. She could see the shadows in it, could sense the skeletons in her closet, could hear the whispered conversations that fell silent when she or her brother came into a room. Her mum and the older ones—Hank, Alex, and Sean—had secrets; they weren't exactly subtle about it.

She and Pietro had long wondered about their absent father. Charlotte Xavier had never hinted at past marriage, at any former paramours or relationships, had never worn a wedding ring, and had never expressed interest in pursuing any type of romantic relationship. They never asked. Wanda had told her twin about the conversation with their mother; they had reluctantly agreed not to press her for information. Charlotte Xavier always had a reason for anything she did. Always.

It happened one day at dinner.

Dinners in the Xavier mansion were big affairs with every teacher and student gathering in the dining room together. Charlotte sat at the head of the table—the proud matriarch in this strange, motley family.