Prologue
Once upon a time, in a land just across the sea 6 year old Regulus Black was certain of three things;
Number one: That the movie playing on the screen behind him was criminally underrated by his siblings and he’d had to argue with them for 20 minutes to get them to let him watch it, just for them to be interrupted like this.
Number two: that he loved his family more than breathing. Their dad, with huge hands, that held Regulus in place as he learned to ride a bike for the first time and subsequently caught him when he fell. That forged over the fire to smith the weapons Regulus adored so much. The hands that made him feel safe and loved. Their mother, who looked so like Regulus and Sirius that they could be triplets at times. With her laugh that felt like bubbles in Regulus’ heart and her song like a warm bath. The voice that meant safety and comfort. Sirius, for being the other half of him, even if his twin felt more alien than kin to Regulus at times. He even loved Andy, despite her telling their mother on him for biting their brother when he wouldn’t let him put the DVD in and perhaps more so because of the way the other children look at her, the way their parents whisper as Andy walks past in the street.
Number Three: that the man at the door with the long sword and furious eyes, was not his dad.
“Where is your mother, child?” The voice sounds rough, ragged and old. The smell of petrichor is in the air, the summer weather thick and heady. Making Regulus’ t-shirt stick to his skin the way the heat in England always does. There’s something else there too. Copper. Regulus lets his eyes drag over the stranger. He looks familiar in a way that makes the hair on Regulus’ arm stand on end. In the hand not holding the sword is a cap. The fabric is ruby red but the pointed peak is stained a different colour. A darker spill of red, like the fabric had been dipped in something.
“Mother, there is someone here to see you” Regulus doesn't take his eyes off the man. He hears his mum’s steps falter less than a heartbeat. He can sense more than hear the way she pulls the knife from its place on the shelf as she crosses the house to meet him at the door. He doesn't move from his place between the stranger and his mother. He does breathe a little easier, even for just a moment, when those furious eye’s lift from his face to settle on the woman behind him.
“Alphard” , his mothers soft, honey voice gurgles as she chokes the word. He barely registers the feeling of her fingers on his shoulder before she yanks him back from his vigil between them and throws him behind her into the living room. Sirius jerks awake on the couch and sits up quickly when he takes in Regulus’ face. Andromeda stands up from the armchair, reaching to pull Sirius up as their mothers strangled voice yells at them. “Go to your room!” Andy and Sirius both scramble out of the room with fear trailing them but Regulus whirls to find his mothers eyes. His eyes. They're watching him with something that looks like pleading but feels like ice in his gut. He can hear his dad coming from the other room, drawn by her shout.
Regulus takes a step back and his mother turns her attention back to the man at the door.
“Did you really think you could take what was mine and hide from me?” The man at the door is so full of rage it makes him seem even taller. Regulus’ mum straightens.
“She’s mine too. I wasn’t meant to be there. I would have gone insane!”
Regulus’ dad burst in. Axe in hand, still smoking from the forge and the man at the door laughs. He pushes his hood down and Regulus inhales sharply. His skin is green and his ears rise to sharp points, just like Andy’s. His eyes are exactly like the alley cat behind the corner shop. Exactly like Andromeda's. The stranger pulls the red cap over his head and lifts his sword.
“Will you finally face me in battle Orion?” Regulus’ dad doesn't respond but lunges for the man, Regulus feels his heart stutter in his chest as the axe cleaves through the air towards the stranger's head. He moves with ease and grace, spinning away, the axe thuds into the door frame. “You are out of practice Orion.” His dad heaves on the handle of the axe but before he can heave it free, the stranger flicks his arm up and Regulus’ mother screams. His dad's hands. The hands that taught Regulus how to cook, the fingers that run through his curls during movie nights. The hands Regulus loves…are now lying, severed, on the floor.
Regulus blinks at the hands. In his peripheral vision he sees the stranger whirl again, hears his dad cry out and his mother cry in desperation. Hears the man’s bitter words;
“I am not”
As his dad's body slumps to the floor with a heavy slap, his mother turns from the stranger, heading right for Regulus. He sees the sword explode through her chest from behind. He holds her gaze, those eyes so like his, as she falls to her knees. Her hands reach for the sword in her abdomen like she can hold herself together for him through pure will. Her breath rattles into her wetly.
“I love you” she gasps, the voice he loves so much, usually so smooth and rich, the sound of comfort. The voice to sing him to sleep when he gets sick or in the car on the way to scouts. It’s been twisted into a harrowing rattle. “Close your eyes” a hand clamps down on her shoulder.
“I love you too mummy” Regulus has not called her mummy in over a year and she smiles sadly at him as the sword is pulled out and the light leaves her. Regulus does not close his eyes.
The man lowers himself to a knee next to Regulus, his hand. The same hand that held his mother in place as the sword was pulled free of her caved in chest, rests on Regulus’ shoulder with the weight of entire stolen lifetimes.
“Boy” The voice is softer now and Regulus stiffens under the pretence of comfort inflicted on him by this machiavellian. He still can't take his eyes off his mother. The fingers dig into his shoulder and Regulus realises there might be danger yet to come. This villain may well turn that twisted Damocles on him. On his siblings.
The weight of his duty to his family snaps those last lingering bonds between him and his mother as he turns abruptly to the man, shifting into a defensive stance even as he darts a look to the staircase. Had they seen too? Had his siblings had to witness this lurch of fate?
The gaps between the bannisters are empty of other spying children thankfully and he rests his gaze on the creature before him. Even on one knee he towers over Regulus.
Storm grey eyes meet yellow slit pupils and they assess each other. Man to child. Warrior to spy. Killer to victim. The fate of one in the hands of the other. The eyes break from his as they study Regulus’ features. His mothers. The gaze softens with something Regulus might think was fondness.
“We are family now.” The words put Regulus more on edge than anything. “The least I can do is raise you now that I have… taken your sire. My daughter will be returning to the isle with me. You and your brother will come too. I will raise you as my own and keep you safe.”
If you asked him now, 11 years later, Regulus would swear he doesn't remember packing. That he has no recollection of how Alphard explained to his siblings what had happened. He suspects Alphard used a geas on him and Sirius to keep them pliant for their trip on ragwort steeds across the mystic ocean and over the magical isle of Elfhame. Regulus isn't sure.
But he does remember the first time he saw the lands of Insmire. He recalls the way his heart swooped in his chest, the feel of his plush stuffed toy stag clutched in his 6 year old fingers. He still dreams of the feeling in his bones when the magic rushed through him full for the first time. Yes, Regulus looked at Elfhame and felt home. Unfortunately, the lands looked at Regulus and seemed set to remind him for the rest of his life that he was not kin.