Act One Part Two
The twins manage to spend most of the ball watching the increasingly drunk folk from a quiet spot by the doors. Regulus swiped a normal apple from the centre piece, staying clear of the fairy fruit. He and Sirius shared it down to the core which Regulus ate too. The movement that catches his eye is fluid. A short fairy making his way through the gathered folk. A tool belt cluttered with potion bottles strung around his slim waist, a knife also sheathed there. Protruding from his back is a pair of small wings. They look too small to support the fairies weight, almost like someone plucked butterfly wings and stuck them on him. The wings flutter softly on the updrafts of warm air in the room.
As Regulus watches him, the fairy slides deftly behind an ogre, slitting its coin pouch from its belt before the ogre even notices. As the fairy twists his body he catches Regulus’ eye. His hair shines a deep shade of green, his cheekbones are sharp and his grin wicked. The fairy’s eyes shine black in the candle light, no pupils to be found but something slightly unhinged watching Regulus back from behind calf like lashes. He winks at Regulus, sliding the coin pouch onto his own belt and slipping away unnoticed by the revellers.
Curious Regulus moves to push off the wall and follow the queer male on his criminal adventures, enthralled by the deft sleight of hand and quick movements. Fingers dig into his skin and yank him back flush with the wall. Regulus tugs his arm from Sirius’ grip and opens his mouth to berate his twin, when he follows Sirius’ eyes to the commotion moving towards them.
What must it have been like to grow up so worshipped as the fae Prince making his way through the room?. So much power gifted upon you from your very first breath. Regulus hates him. He can feel the sneer twisting his own face as he takes in the ridiculous posse fanned out around the Prince. Closest to him strides Princess Marlene. Not royalty of the high court like the other princesses, Marlene comes from the undersea. Her skin shines in a way Regulus would only achieve with half a makeup counter’s worth of highlighter. Pale but iridescent, Regulus has seen her mother, Queen Aurora, whose skin is so diluted by the undersea that it’s practically see through. Given her time on land, Marlene’s skin has not yet been leached of its colouring completely. Her hair never fails to capture Regulus’ interest, against his wishes, it never seems to rest, as though carried in its own phantom current, the choppy locks as always slightly drifting around her shoulder, falling elegantly across her face. Its colour, a striking blue, matched in colour to her eyes. Her ears rise in points like the fae but fan out with webs rather than rounding out. Regulus knows her fingers are also webbed. A feature that helps her in her natural habitat to move, and helps her in this court by giving her that, so craved, animalistic feature King Fleamont’s line carries. It’s such a shame that she's such a heinous bitch.
On the prince's other side is a male that makes Regulus’ skin crawl. Lord Peter. Unfortunately for Regulus, this is the member of the Prince’s inner circle he and Sirius have had the most run-ins with. Most of the fae will ensure humans appreciate their talents even, often view them as a necessity due to the issues fae have with reproducing, while humans bear children far more easily. Many folk take human lovers, wives, to bear their offspring. Usually consensually, often with love. Lord Peter does not have the same view on mortals. He holds a sharp, wicked face. A harsh type of beauty that Regulus can recognise even if he doesn't appreciate it himself. Every part of Peter looks like it would cut you. And he would. Regulus would know. Sirius is so good at folding himself into a space given. He can become palatable to those around him. Be less, be more, be courteous, hide. Regulus cannot. Lord Peter reviles him all the more for it. He thinks morals are nothing more than rotting animals. He detests that Regulus and Sirius are allowed to study with the noble fae children.
Regulus recalls how he had once taken a silver pen to his lessons, it was nicer and newer than the one Lord Peter was using, Lord Peter whose father held standing but was not in any way close to the King and held no real power. Peter had taken the pen from Regulus and spat in his face. When Alphard had asked where Regulus’ pen had gone, he’d simply explained he had lost it. Alphard had studied him for a long moment, clearly not believing him, but as with the other times Regulus presented with lost items or conspicuous injuries, Alphard had let the matter drop. He had taken a sapphire encrusted pen from his own desk and given it to Regulus to replace the lost one. Peter had seen it the following day and the rage in his eyes had sent shivers down Regulus’ spine. He had told Sirius to go home without him as he wanted to pick some mushrooms from the lakeside before returning. Sirius had let his eyes flick between Regulus’ serene face and the rage in Peter’s eyes from across the lawn and agreed. Leaving Regulus to walk home alone. As he had suspected, Lord Peter had followed him and once alone on the forest path, Peter had jumped him. Cracked Regulus across the head with a branch. The encounter left Regulus with a broken rib, concussion and no pen.
Sirius had found him. Soon enough that part of Regulus wondered how close his brother had been waiting for Regulus to endure his punishment before escorting him home. Not that Regulus blamed him. Regulus was the one to antagonise people, Regulus would take a thousand beatings to keep his brother safe.
Next to Marlene with his arm slung through hers is The Duke. His head adorned with sunshine golden curls, his round face deceptively charming, bright eyes full of mischief. Even as Regulus takes him in, The Duke’s eyes are scanning the crowd, looking for trouble no doubt. The Duke is what Andy would call a shit stirrer. Regulus… Well, jellyfish are quite beautiful to look at so long as you don't let yourself get stung. The Duke’s eyes jump to Regulus as though reading his thoughts and a smirk graces that charming face as his eyes drink Regulus in with an unfounded appreciation. Regulus blushes and looks away swiftly, catching Sirius staring at him with something that Regulus doesn’t quite recognise on his face. Before he can ask his brother what’s wrong, the voice that haunts Regulus’ dreams cuts through the room.
“Look at the dirty wallflowers, lurking in the shadows.” Lord Peter breaks away from the group as he moves towards them, Regulus can’t help the way his body shifts to cover Sirius slightly. He leans down to Regulus, close enough that he can see the flecks in the male's eyes.
“There are not enough shadows in the entirety of Fairy to conceal you two in a room full of the folk.” He cannot tell a lie, Regulus knows he must believe it to be the truth even as Peter’s face shows nothing but disgust. “I can smell you dying slowly from across the room.”
Regulus refuses to look at him, keeping his gaze blankly over his shoulder. The weight of the dagger concealed at his hip is heavy as Lord Pete reaches out and yanks on Regulus’ hair.
“Pete.” The voice is bored, that of a friend recalling a companion from a pursuit in which he has no interest. Yet it still makes Regulus’ skin prickle. It still breaks his resolve of not looking at the Prince. Hate floods Regulus’ body, making him run hot as he drinks in the prince’s body, graceful and willowy, tall and slim. So unlike Regulus’ soft curves. So unlike his own pale skin, the prince glows with his darker skin. The absolute mess of dark curls caressing his face, the famous antlers protruding upwards, small like those on satyrs, but branching like those of a stag. Those doe brown eyes, so wide and misleading. The smattering of pure white freckles that dance across his face like stars. Prince James. The cruellest of them all. The boy who once snapped another boy's horn simply for the crime of eating the last tart at a party. Vicious and already a renowned drunk at 17. Prince James doesn't even look at Regulus or Sirius as he calls his attack dog back to his side.
As Peter finally pulls away from Regulus, Sirius grabs his wrist and shame floods Regulus. He should have fought back. But he had promised his best behaviour. The inner circle move on to torment others but Regulus feels eyes on him. He catches the gaze of The Duke, the male lingering, studying Regulus with a gleam in his eye. When their eyes meet he offers Regulus an encouraging smile that makes something shift in his stomach.
“Gilderoy,” Marlene calls and The Duke winks once at Regulus before turning away and taking up her arm again.
“Stop staring,” Sirius hisses, letting his nails dig in once more. Caught, Regulus looks away with a blush.
“I wasn’t,” he protests, but Sirius is looking at him with a level of anger he doesn't understand.
“Yes, you were. Stop giving them reasons to toy with us. You promised to behave. Just..” Sirius sighs and looks away for a second before turning back to Regulus. “Why can’t you just pretend? Is that too much to ask of you? To just pretend so that my reputation is not ruined with yours. I actually care about my life here. I want a future in fairy.”
Sirius may as well have slapped him across the face.
“So do I,” he snaps. Regulus has gotten good at keeping his face level, his lies smooth, his emotions hidden. Sirius has not. He scoffs and lets go of Regulus' arm.
“Sure, how could I forget your oh so important desire to be a knight. You have to get Alphard's permission first, you know.” Regulus grinds his teeth together. The only chink in his plan.
“I know.” His voice remains as unbothered as always and Sirius shakes his head.
“Let’s just go home, I’m tired.” His brother pushes off the wall and makes his way through the crowd away from Regulus. He hesitates a moment, trying to make sense of his brother's irritation. Why this sudden need for Regulus to fall in line? What is he missing? Regulus lets his gaze scan the party again, in truth looking for the green haired thief from before. He instead finds the gleeful eyes of The Duke, watching him from across the room. Unused to being so seen, Regulus takes off after Sirius without another look, skin burning.
Sirius is still angry with Regulus the next day. He refuses to speak to him over breakfast or on their way to lessons, Regulus doesn’t have the energy to force the issue. They have been having lessons with Prince James’ inner circle since they came to Fairy, these power games between them are not new. Regulus learned early on that they live on a knife's edge of power careful how much he can push before James or his idiots will bite back. Regulus still has the scars from the times they all went too far. The stakes have only increased as they've all grown. Each pushing back harder, retaliating worse.
Their lessons begin without a hitch and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a breath of relief. Regulus ends up tuning much of their lecture out, mostly the parts where Marlene uses the opportunity to wax on about her family line and history of the undersea, speaking over the lecturer as though the imp had not been at the high court 100 years ago when the event he’s teaching took place. Back when Marlene was nothing but an egg inside her twisted mothers blood soaked body. Regulus lets his mind drift back to his lessons with Alphard, replaying sword motions and blocking manoeuvres over in his head. They manage through the first half of their studies without so much as a comment. It isn't until lunch that the trouble begins.
Regulus and Sirius have unpacked their bread and cheese from the basket they bring each day and are chatting aimlessly, Sirius’ ire seeming to have finally waned, when James walks past, kicking dirt over their food. Regulus cannot help the way the rage crashes over him, he cannot help that his teeth grind and his eyes brim with anger and defiance as he looks up and meets The Prince’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, Mortal?” Marlene askes sweetly from next to James, Regulus hadn't even noticed her. “It’s just dirt. Exactly what you are made from and will return to.”
The girl smirks wickedly at him and leans down, her webbed claws digging into James’ arm, drawing Regulus’ eyes. “Eat it.”
He knows. Regulus knows in the unnatural stillness of Sirius by his side, knows by the hopeful gleam in Marlene’s eyes, knows from experience, that he should let it go. Should look down, submissive and weak. Should. But he cannot. Sneering to show his own blunted teeth Regulus snarls at her;
“Make me.”
James lurches forward, freeing himself of Marlene in the process. Regulus meets the Prince’s gaze and sees something he doesn't understand there. James reaches forward and takes hold of Regulus’ face. He doesn't attempt to pull free, just letting his lip curl up.
“I could you know,” James mutters, his other hand reaching forwards and slipping under the collar of Regulus' shirt. The pad of James finger drags on Regulus' collar bone as it curls under the string of rowan berries that graces Regulus’ neck, protection from charms. His touch makes Regulus’ skin break out in goosebumps but he keeps his face steady and livid. James uses his elegant, long finger to lift the necklace out. Tugging gently on it, a passive threat. James could so easily snap the single protection Regulus has against him. The Prince’s eyes hold Regulus’ with such an intensity that Regulus can't breathe. It would not be hard for James to do it. Snap the string and make Regulus believe that the dirt is his favourite thing in the world.
With just a sharp tug and some soft words James could reduce Regulus to a mindless being, subject to James every whim. The only reason he might hesitate is for any repercussions that might come from Alphard finding out. If the King’s general was angry enough then the King might step in to deliver a punishment. It would be unusual. Regulus isn't sure he’s ever even seen King Fleamont speak to Prince James.
The moment feels like it lasts a lifetime as Regulus’ tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips. James' eyes dart down to follow the movement and something Regulus doesn't recognise flashes through James’ eyes again. The grip on his necklace tightens, straining it enough that Regulus leans a bit closer to James, simply to alleviate the tension on the string.
“Why do you test us so, Regulus?” James breathes, the scent of his breath washes over Regulus and he can tell immediately James has been drinking. That knowledge makes his heart beat faster and the grip on his chin tightens, reminding Regulus that James can feel his heartbeat in his throat like this. He doesn't dare swallow.
“Don't you want us to be friends? Don't you want to impress us?” The words are teasing, James already knows the answer. Knows Regulus would rather die than belittle himself to impress The Prince.
“He didn’t mean it,” Sirius’s voice breaks the moment, Regulus’ breath rushes from him as James’ touch flees his skin. He watches James’ gaze change, from that unknown intensity he watches Regulus with, into something akin to disgust as he takes in Sirius. The change is so confusing to Regulus that he too snaps his gaze to Sirius. His brother is standing now, on a level with James and the others while Regulus is still on his knees. What confuses Regulus the most is the figure of The Duke, he’s lingering close to Sirius, just behind him. As though he’d been whispering into Sirius’ ear. His gaze is fixed on Regulus though. That same curious hunger dancing in his eyes as he gracefully shifts back to James’ side.
“Regulus is sorry. We both are.” Regulus looks back at Sirius with a deliberately blank face, heedless of his spinning head or racing heart.
“Is he?” James asks, his voice is cocky and yet silky and smooth. “Prove it.”
James keeps his eyes on Sirius, acting as though Regulus is invisible now. “He can drop out of the summer tournament.”
“Are you that worried I’ll win?” Regulus asks. He is grateful for how steady his voice is, his insides are trembling. His body is held still. James finally looks at him again and Regulus feels a thrill run down his spine even as he finds pure ice in James' eyes.
“A mortal like you stands no chance. You’ll be sent home in a box.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” Regulus breathes. He knows James hears him from the flicker in his eyes, he isn't sure anyone else does.
James raises his chin, sneering down at Regulus. “Withdraw from the competition. Or I'll make you wish you had.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Sirius pipes up again. Regulus glares back at his brother but Sirius isn't looking at him, or James. Regulus follows Sirius' gaze to the others and feels his blood run cold at the pure hatred on Lord Peter’s face as he watches Regulus.
“It’s just a game. It’s nothing,” Sirius insists. Regulus is frozen in the vitriol of Peter's gaze, all the fire and warmth suddenly gone.
“Everything is just a game,” Pete sneers.
“Come now, let's leave them to their misery.” The Duke coos, taking Marlene’s hand and tugging her with him. “There has to be something more entertaining to do.”
Regulus meets James' eyes again as they turn away and he knows this isn’t done with.
Regulus is proved right in the mock war they have later. Lord Peter deliberately trips him and the Prince whispers cruelties into his ear every chance he gets. By the time they finish Regulus is covered in minor cuts and bruises.
The walk home is tense, Regulus knows Sirius is cross with him. He feels guilty now. No longer burning with that flash fire rage. Sirius never asked to be burdened with a brother like him. Regulus is unable to just lie down and let people treat him like that. Other than Alphard, his father has a power over Regulus he doesn't quite understand. He fears it's the desire to make him proud. Sirius does well to blend in with these people and this world.
“Are you going to drop out?” Sirius sighs at last. Regulus looks up at him, his brother is pulling the petals off a flower as he strolls. Regulus’ hands clench and relax in his pockets. The fires of that rage begin to flicker up his stomach, stroking his spite and vitriol. He exhales slowly, trying to expel the childish reaction.
“Regulus?” Sirius demands, actually stamping his foot in frustration. So petulant. Just like that Regulus wants to be petty about it.
“Why would I?” he postures, unable to resist riling his brother up now. Sirius scowls deeply. Regulus knows they are identical, but sometimes he watches Sirius and may as well be looking at a stranger. They're so different.
“Why is what you want more important than what I want?” Sirius demands and Regulus takes a step back.
“What?” he hisses. “What are you talking about Sirius? This is-”
Regulus shakes his head.
“Why would I drop out of the tournament when it's the one thing I need to make it out of here? And what the hell does it have to do with what you want?” he demands, crossing his arms.
“Because-” Sirius stammers and looks away. Regulus scoffs. “Shut up, Regulus. Just because you have decided to rebel against the family doesn't mean you have to drag me down with you. What do I have here, Regulus? Apart from Alphard and Narcissa, what do I have? I followed her teachings and now I'm doing my best to secure a husband before I become a burden on them. And all your… petty, selfish arguments are damaging my chances, Regulus. Just wait, you don’t want to marry anyone anyway. Let me get married first and then do your stupid tournament. Please.”
Sirius is sincere. Regulus might have given in for his brother, shocked as he is to learn that’s what Sirius has become consumed by, he would have given everything for his brother’s happiness. He would have, except;
“You have me, Sirius. You’ve always had me. I never thought we were alone here when we had each other. Clearly, that was my mistake. Good luck becoming a kept whore, Sirius. It’ll suit you.” Regulus leaves Sirius there on the path and disappears between the trees, allowing himself to get lost in their solitude. It’s the first time in his life he’s felt the weight of his loneliness.
Sirius isn't at the house when Regulus arrives and he hopes his brother is avoiding him. On his way to his room he hears Andromeda screaming. Immediately alert, Regulus pulls a sword from the wall and creeps towards her door. When he bursts the door open with the sword levelled, she’s alone in her room with tears tracking down her face. There’s paper all over the floor. It looks like she was robbed. She is alone however so he lowers the blade and reaches for her. She collapses into his arms sobbing.
“Fucking pixies ate my stuff,” she mumbles into his shoulder. Seems like a dramatic reaction to Regulus, until he actually takes in the tattered items around them. They seem to all be from the mortal realm. A carrier bag, a receipt, a magazine.
“Andy, what is all this?” She pulls back a bit and blinks.
“Just my stuff, you know that I bring back when I visit.” She’s looking at him like he’s insane.
“Keepsakes to help when I miss it,” she adds and he forces an understanding smile. Regulus has never brought a souvenir back from the mortal lands. Standing a bit away from him now, he can see the strip of paper clutched in her hand. It’s a strip of photos from a booth. Andy is smiling, so brightly that it makes Regulus’ stomach hurt, she doesn't smile like that here. Next to her is a boy. His hair is short and his ears round. Human. He’s smiling, but he’s watching her, not the camera.
He offers to help her tidy up but she waves him away. As he moves back to his room, Regulus can’t help but wonder if his siblings have forgotten the cost of love.