Adhara- I mean Regulus Black
Sunlight trickled in through the window and illuminated the girl sleeping peacefully in her bed. Did I say girl? I meant boy. The boy.
Sunlight trickled in through the window and illuminated the boy sleeping peacefully in his bed.
Even though they had long hair, falling down well past their shoulders, they were still a boy.
Even though they were sleeping in a nightgown, they were still a boy.
Even if only he knew it.
Sunlight trickled in through the window and illuminated Regulus, sleeping peaceful in the bed.
Being a princess was hard, especially when they aren’t a princess. They’re a prince.
But by now, most know that the Black family aren’t the most accepting lot, especially the King and Queen. Orion and Walburga.
—------------------------------------
The kingdom of Salazar was already awake by this time of course, merchants setting up their carts of so-called magical items, shops selling anything your heart could desire and people milling around, always in a hurry.
The sea laps at the shore, clear water hitting soft white sand. Palm trees and green grass lining the beaches, a worn path from town to the docks. Ships come in and out, and while there was a pirate issue for a while, the rough, savage and bloodthirsty monsters are strongly encouraged to stay away, or else.
The buildings, small stone structures on the shore, while growing in size as they go back towards the castle. Standing proud, the Black castle, made of clean cut bricks, leered at all the townsfolk below.
Yawning, Regulus awoke, pale limbs tangled in the sheets. His neck hurt from how he had slept, on his side, cuddling a pillow. That’s the closest he’ll ever get to a real hug anyway.
The door got thrown open, and Remus marched in, holding a tray with pastries and tea.
“Your highness. Prince. Prince Regulus. Reg. Reggie. For the Lord's sake, get up.” Remus sighs, exasperated.
Regulus throws a pillow at him, which Remus side steps with precision, before it hits the floor in the corner.
“You almost hit the tray. Could have had no breakfast.” Remus muttered.
“I was awake, no need to burst in as if we were getting invaded.” Regulus mumbles, sourly. The tray is gently placed on the vanity, before the pillow gets flung roughly, hitting Regulus in the face as he sits up. A pointed look gets shot in Remus’s direction.
“Oh forgive me your highness,” Remus quips, “I am but a humble servant, here at your beck and call to do as you please.”
Regulus groans, before finally getting up. He brushes the nightgown down, making sure it’s flat, sneering at the long fabric.
“Remus, you know I see you as more of a servant.” He picks up a pastry and chews it thoughtfully.
“Reg, I’m honoured, but I only see you as a friend.” Remus responds, smirking.
Regulus chokes. “I see you as a friend too, you idiot. You knew what I meant.” He exclaims.
Remus holds a hand to his heart. “Aww Reggie I’m honoured to be your friend.”
The pillow goes flying again.
“Seriously though, I hope you're in a good mood, today is a lot. There’s that lunch with your family…” Remus informs, hesitantly.
“Oh. No, I don't do lunch, ESPECIALLY with family. Well they don’t do lunch either... unless it’s something important. What if they found out?” Regulus swallows, finally finishing the pastry.
“They wouldn’t have Regulus. There's no way.” He reassures, but that doesn’t do much to ease the panicking boy.
“No no no. What if they know Remus? What if they know I’m a boy? What then? They’ll hurt me! I’ll be a disgrace to this family. More so than Sirius is. Was. More of a disgrace than Sirius was.”
“Regulus. Breathe. They don't know. They won’t hurt you.” Remus reassures him, again.
“I miss him.” Well that was a rare moment of vulnerability for Regulus.
“Sirius? I know you do.” Remus responds.
“Do you think I could find him? If I ran away? Do you think I could manage to run away?” Regulus drinks the tea. It scorches his throat on the way down. “Actually, I don’t want an answer. I need to get changed.” He looks at himself and then Remus. He knows it's a poor excuse to get Remus to leave, but he isn’t about to just kick him out.
Remus looks at Regulus, REALLY looks at Regulus, and sees that he needs to be alone. He picks up the tray, the metal cool against his fingers. Leaving in silence, since the time for jokes is over. Footsteps grow faint as he walks away.
Regulus makes his way to the mirror, staring into it. Everything was wrong. The nightdress hangs off him, showing off the general outline of his body. Even if he squints, the soft curves don’t go away. The gentle facial structure doesn’t go away. His voice is still too high. His chest is too big. His legs and arm aren’t strong enough. His mind isn’t quiet enough as every conscious thought he’s ever had resurfaces. Dysphoria shows its ugly head.
He doesn’t realise he’s crying until the tear drips onto the hideous dress.
—------------------------------------
Upon arriving in the dining room, Regulus was greeted by two things.
One; The high vaulted ceilings, long, mahogany table with elaborate floral centrepieces and the paintings lining the walls. He was never one to properly care about visual art, preferring music. The one exception in particular was Ivan Konstantinovich’s Growing Storm. Maybe it was significant in another life.
Two; His parents sitting patiently at said table, smiling. That’s unusual at least. His mother, who is usually adorned in elaborate poofy dresses with stupid tassels, sits in a simpler, but still stupidly poofy dress, topped with a genuine smile. That’s unnerving. The last time she smiled, genuinely smiled, was when she realised she wouldn't have to deal with Sirius’s acts of rebellion anymore. His father sat beside her, staring at a spot in the distance. Upon a second glance, it was recognised that he was staring at the servant in the corner with the teapot. And with a further glance one might see that it was Remus.
Remus being here did a small amount to calm his nerves. His parents wanting to talk to him was never a good thing. He was a spare. No, he was The Heir now. Although they’d want him to marry a man, and obey their every will. Women don’t get power.
“Adhara, that dress is tasteless. Did you have to come down in your nightgown? What if someone was to see you?” Walburga’s smile disappears, making it hard to recognise that it was ever there in the first place. A gentle hand placed on her arm by Orion made her stop the comments, but it made the topic change.
“Sit down darling, let's eat lunch. You’re far too skinny to skip lunch again.” There she goes again.
Regulus sits next to his father, because if he has to eat with his family, he may as well try to enjoy it and he would never be able to enjoy it if he was with his mother.
At least the food looks nice. There’s fresh bread, cold cream and an assortment of pastries and fruit, like usual.
“This looks more like a snack than lunch,” Regulus remarks.
“What was that?” Walburga shot an icy look in his direction.
“I said this looks like a snackable lunch…?” Regulus replies, wincing slightly. Who says snackable?
That seems to satisfy Walburga enough for her to spread cream out onto her bread, and she's just about to open her mouth when Orion speaks, still staring distractedly at the servant. “You. My cup’s empty. Refill it. But I want rum, not tea. Are you even capable of that?”
Remus runs off to get the rum, while Regulus sits, staring daggers into his father. No one gets to talk to Remus like that, especially his parents.
“So is there a reason I’m here?” Regulus asks coldly. If they hadn't been rude maybe he would have stayed longer.
Walburga turns to him again, with that ominous smile on her face. “Well, I was talking to the Malfoy’s. You know them don’t you? Apparently Narcissa is unable to carry children”
Regulus watches her, trying to pick up on why that requires him to come and dine here, instead of in his room with Remus.
“Lucius says he wants a new wife. And you, my beautiful girl,” Regulus winces slightly at that, “are going to be his new wife. Isn’t that perfect? I didn’t imagine a lord would ever want you, anyone ever wanting you actually.”
His blood runs cold. He couldn’t imagine marrying for anything other than love, although it is common for nobles to marry for convenience. But Lucius of all people? His cousin's husband? Who cares if she can’t have kids? That’s not what marriage is about. And saying he would never be wanted? Ouch? He ought to tell her not to talk down about him like that, and he ought to tell her he could never, ever, marry someone like Lucius-
“Well? Aren’t you happy darling?” Walburgas smile was wide. Disgusting.
“Of course I am Mother” Is what he said. ‘No Mother, I refuse to listen to such tomfoolery and it is simply a ludicrous idea to marry him of all people. Oh and while I’m at it, I’m not actually your daughter, I’m your son.’ is what he should have said.
Creaking doors signal Remus’ return. Orion looks relieved for the drink getting poured in his glass. But the atmosphere of the room was unbearably tense. Regulus received subtle glances from Remus but chose to ignore them, until he could actually talk about it with him.
“I’ll be going if that is all I am needed for then?” Regulus sighs.
“I guess you’re excused. But if you dare act like Sirius did about this new engagement of yours, I will hurt you. Understand? No more shame shall be brought upon this family.” She smiles cruelly.
Without needing much more, Regulus gets up and leaves.
—------------------------------------
Upon his return, Regulus sees Remus already seated in his room, but this doesn’t surprise him. It doesn’t surprise him when the dress gets ripped off and pants and a shirt, borrowed from Remus, get pulled on instead. It doesn't surprise him when he breaks down the second the door locks.
Remus remains seated on the edge of the bed but tugs Regulus into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. He straddles his legs, resting his head on his shoulder with his arms around him. And he just cries.
They don’t say anything for a while, but the hugging and comfort remain.
“I didn’t hear any of the conversation,” Remus informs, speaking softly, “but if you want to tell me? I doubt your parents would have done anything to case this much of a-”
“They’re wedding me off to Lucius.” Regulus cuts in. “I can’t do that, Remus. I can’t marry someone for political gain, and I refuse to marry him of all people”
Remus nods slowly, wiping the tears off Regulus’s face with his thumbs.
“And Mother kept referring to me as a girl and they were so rude to you and they don’t like me and they won’t ever like me and I don’t want to be here anymore Remus. I should have left when Sirius did. I should have got him to take me instead of letting him go.” He starts to spiral.
“Hey, hey. Regulus. Stop.” Remus leans back, “It’s going to be okay. Everything works itself out. It always does.”
Looking at him, really looking at him, Regulus sees the truth in Remus’s eyes. He sees the way Remus whole-heartedly believes that everything will be fine. The way he’s sure, like how he’s sure the sun will rise tomorrow and the stars will return to the sky once darkness replaces the light.
“Okay..” Regulus whispers shakily, hopping off Remus, slightly blushing in embarrassment at how he let himself break down.
“Besides,” Remus smirks, “We could always run if it gets worse.”
“We?” Regulus confirms, eyebrows raised with slight confusion.
“We. You think I’d let you go by yourself?” Remus chuckles, “I’m not letting you leave.”
“Sounds like you’re flirting.” He points out.
“You wish. I have my eyes on the more handsome Black.” Remus takes a step towards the door.
“More handsome black… MY FATHER?” Regulus shrieks. Remus looks confused.
“No, not your father, your- actually forget about it. I was joking..” He attempts to clear the air, rather pathetically.
Regulus looks at him suspiciously. The only Blacks were himself, his father and his brother, and Remus just said he didn’t like any of them.
“I have to go.. Servant duties and stuff. A total pain. See you later Reg!” Remus exclaims before walking out, leaving Regulus alone.
—------------------------------------
Darkness swallows the room as the sun moves across the sky, before disappearing under the horizon. People retire into their homes for the night, as a new boat enters the port, and docks at the very end.
Shops close, blinds lowering to conceal the stock inside. The streets went quiet, silence being interrupted by the echoing sounds of boots slapping on cobblestone, as someone strolls down the road.
Boots, a white shirt half done up, baggy knee length pants, a black belt, a bandanna. A pirate.