Act One Part Five
Regulus gets drunk. It’s the first time he’s ever deliberately become intoxicated, he finds it freeing. Completely in control of himself, floating around lightly intoxicated but not out of his right mind. The Duke never leaves his side, guiding Regulus through his estate. First to a room full of glittering clothes, The Duke moves to the right side of the room, his own clothes seemingly. But it doesn't take Regulus long to point out that the slim fit of them wouldn’t rest well on his broader, shorter frame. The Duke hesitates, eyes resting on the clothes gracing the other side of the room. Mostly gowns but some other casual smocks and trousers. Capes and cloaks too.
“My mother’s old clothes might work better.” The Duke gestures and Regulus hesitates. It isn’t the first time female clothes have fit better on his shorter frame in fairy. With their wider hips and shorter legs Sirius and Regulus didn't fit into the standard male fae, which seems to be tall, willowy and lithe. Even just the muscles Regulus has cultivated from his sword work is unnatural to the folk, with their magical strength.
The last time they had all been fitted for new clothes, the tailor had made a disparaging comment about the twins body shape, and particularly about Regulus’ arms. Andy had scoffed and informed them all how many people in the mortal realm would kill to have Regulus’ body. Sirius had snapped that it was a shame they were not in the mortal realm which led to an argument between him and Andy about running away, again. Regulus had come to terms with his own figure, he wouldn’t be nearly as powerful without it… Although perhaps as a spy he wouldn’t exercise his sword skills so much. Either way, he knew his body had a purpose and he couldn't change it even if it didn’t. It’s not like Regulus expected any of the folk to ever find him attractive anyway.
“You don't mind?” He would not want someone in his mother’s old clothes but The Duke shrugs and points to a lilac shirt. Regulus slides off the jacket, handing it back to Gilderoy, who watches the way Regulus’ arms flex with interest. Regulus moves to the rack, reaching up to pull the lilac cloth down. It slides easily over his body. It's a little too wide for him, but better than too tight. The Duke is studying him with wide, hungry eyes and Regulus turns back to the rack, reaching out for a lightweight hooded cloak. He pulls it on, it's almost the perfect length for him too and as he adjusts it he realises there are pockets sewn into it. Perfect.
They begin in the kitchen, Gilderoy packing a picnic basket and passing Regulus a bottle of sparkling wine, before they explore the grounds.
When the sun begins to sink in the sky, The Duke pulls Regulus by the wrist to a spot up a bank, they sit together and share the food while The Duke regales Regulus with funny stories. Regulus laughs harder than he should and the bubbles from the wine make his nose itch. He sneezes and catches Gilderoy watching him hungrily. It makes Regulus blush and look away, examining the grounds below them. He spots the carriages approaching the property and goes tense.
The Duke smooths a hand down Regulus’ back. “It’s the party guests, remember?”
Regulus had been feeling comfortable enough to forget. He nods slowly.
“Do you need to go greet them?” He asks carefully, aware of the wine’s effect already. The Duke shrugs;
“No, but we should, we can go through the maze.”
“How hard could it be?” Regulus scoffs when The Duke offers to show him the map, recklessly plunging into the hedges, sticking left following the path deeper into the maze. He can hear The Duke laughing as he follows behind Regulus, and then from a different path as they diverge. Regulus feels dizzy, twisting through identical hedges while swigging from his bottle. The Duke’s laughter stops and Regulus’ heart races, spinning around, checking each direction, lost now. He can’t remember which way he came from and panic is creeping into his haze.
“There you are,” The Duke coos and Regulus jumps, bumping into him. Gilderoy’s arms coming up to hold him steady, pulling Regulus closer. The heady scent of him washing over Regulus and bleeding into his brain. The Duke’s arms are strong around him and Regulus leans closer, bottle hanging precariously from his fingertips.
“I got lost, I didn't think it would be so hard,” he admits.The Duke grins smugly.
“It's just an illusion, the hedges are trimmed in a way that makes it appear more confusing than it is.” Simply another deception.
“You’re my knight in shining armour today.” The hunger in The Duke’s eyes sharpens and he lowers his face, a hair's breadth from Regulus’.
“You don’t need rescuing,” he breathes and Regulus shivers, it makes him feel powerful. His mouth dries out so he raises his bottle for another drink, The Duke watches his throat as he swallows. The bubbles make him dizzy again and Regulus grins.
“Catch me if you can,” he calls, breaking free of The Duke’s grasp and bolting through the maze. The Duke catches up with him easily and tickles him until he escapes again, they somehow burst out the other side of the maze right as The Duke tackles him again sending them both flying across the grass. The bottle flies from Regulus’ hand as laughter shrieks out of him, The Duke wraps his arms tightly around Regulus cushioning his fall. They’re both giggling, inches apart on the grass when the voice cuts through the moment, and Regulus’ buzz.
“Disgusting.”
Regulus looks over to find Prince James standing a few feet away, Regulus’ mostly empty bottle resting against his feet. Regulus expects that under the attention of his friend, The Duke will duck away with shame. Perhaps scramble away from him. Instead he grins up at The Prince;
“Oh Jamie, don’t be so dull, just because your ladies aren't as beautiful as Reggie here.” Regulus blinks, he hadn’t even noticed the two fae loitering behind James, they're both beautiful. He certainly would not consider Gilderoy’s words to be truthful. And yet.
“Regulus disgusts me,” James spits back, pure hatred in his face and The Duke laughs, shifting off Regulus and rising to his feet before pulling Regulus up too. The Prince reaches down to pick up Regulus’ lost wine.
“You're a sore loser, Jamie.” The Duke sings, tucking a strand of hair behind Regulus’ ear. The Prince’s grip on the bottle tightens and he reaches for one of the girls behind him, she slides into his hold easily and scoffs. The girl drapes herself over him, her hand travelling his body with ease.
James’ eyes stay on Regulus. “I don’t think you have won anything. You cannot compare these two beautiful ladies to Regulus.”
“Oh, I agree.” The Duke laughs, shifting closer to Regulus before leaning in and pressing his lips to Regulus’. It’s his first kiss. He’s a bit surprised honestly. That Gilderoy wants to kiss him, that he did it right there. It does feel good though. To be wanted, claimed so publicly and in front of Gilderoy’s closest friend and Regulus’ worst enemy. Regulus’ eyes stay open though. So he sees James’ face twist in repulsion before he lifts Regulus’ wine to his mouth and drains the contents. Still watching Regulus, who engaged emphatically with The Duke's kiss, James tugs the fae closer and kisses her deeply. Still holding Regulus’ gaze.
Gilderoy pulls back and Regulus blinks, waiting for his next move. The Duke grins and gestures down at Regulus’ shirt.
“You’re covered in grass stains, beautiful, let’s get you a new shirt.” He looks at Regulus’ hands and adds “And more wine.”
The Duke produces wine on the way back to the dressing room. Once inside, he opens it and passes it to Regulus before shutting the door behind him. Regulus takes a few steps backwards, into the room, while taking a long drink.
“Will you let me help you out of your shirt?” he asks softly and Regulus nods. Happy to be asked the question, the bubbles still popping in his skin, as the new wine burns through him. Gilderoy takes some slow, careful steps towards him, treating Regulus like a skittish animal. Regulus doesn't care, he just wants to burn away the things he did outside of his control. Wants to replace them with consensual memories. Wants to feel wanted, not commanded. The Duke makes him feel wanted, claiming him like that in front of his guests, in front of The Prince.
The fingers are cool on his burning skin as The Duke slips the grass stained shirt down Regulus’ shoulder. His hands continue down, unlacing the shirt and skirting dangerously along his waistband, before casting the shirt away.
Gilderoy sucks his bottom lip.
“Your arms,” he whispers. “So toned and firm, so brutish and human.”
Regulus blushes and it spreads down his exposed chest. The Duke sighs with contentment and reaches down to pull his own shirt off. His own skin is almost golden, everything about him is golden. His figure is lithe but powerful as he puts his hands on Regulus’ hips and guides him down on the day bed. There they kiss for a long time, bodies pressed together in pleasure through their britches as soft gasps escape Regulus and The Duke bites at his throat. The wine is humming through Regulus as he finds a moment of freedom.
The Duke falls asleep afterwards, rumpled and beautiful on the day bed. Regulus no longer wishes to be here. He carefully scoops up the shirt and cloak, pulling them on before slipping from the room. He navigates through the corridors until he finds the kitchen. He comes up short to find Marlene perched on the table. She looks drunk. He hesitates before continuing even as she takes in every detail of him.
“You let him fuck you?” She slurs and he stops, blushing in spite of himself but looking at her.
“No.” She hums an acknowledgement but he continues.
“I let him make me feel good for a while.” He shrugs, hoping to remain casual, as though it was nothing.
She gasps out a desperate laugh. “Yeah, he’s good at that in the beginning. He’s like rot though. He destroys things. I don't think he can help it. You should stay away from him.”
Marlene watches him with what Regulus would perceive as envy from anyone else, before she slides off the counter, passing him her open bottle on her way out. The words stick to him like mud on his walk home.
He eventually staggers into the entry hall of Alphard’s home with the now empty bottle in hand. He comes up short when Sirius stands up, he’s been waiting on the stairs it would seem.
“Where have you been?” he demands and Regulus laughs.
“Don’t pretend to give a shit now, Sirius.” He tries to ignore his brother, pushing past him on the stairs but Sirius reaches out, snatching Regulus’ arm to stare with horror at Regulus' throat. He can only imagine the bruises resting there now.
“Who did that?” Sirius demands and Regulus shakes free of his grip.
“Why the third degree now, brother? I let you live your life without inspection. Leave me alone, it's what you wanted, remember?” Regulus continues up the stairs but Sirius speaks again.
“I have to tell you something.” He sounds anxious enough that Regulus turns back, looking down the stairs at his brother, he looks sick. Regulus feels an old tug of worry in his heart but quickly squashes it, Sirius doesn't deserve it anymore. Regulus would never have let someone do that to his brother.
“What is it, Sirius?” he sighs, tired and sore. Bruised from passion and violence equally. Emotionally drained and physically exhausted.
Sirius swallows and then looks away, seeming to change his mind. He shrugs and laughs softly.
“Nothing, just… I’m seeing someone and if I can-” He cuts off and corrects himself. “If all goes well, he’s going to ask father for my hand after the coronation.”
Shock nearly knocks Regulus back down the stairs. His brother has been seeing someone behind his back, for long enough to gain a proposal. Regulus takes another step, putting more height and distance between them.
“Congratulations,” he tells him bluntly, turning away and heading to his room.
Once there he begins to take his clothes off again, he notices for the first time something in the pocket of the cloak. He carefully pulls out an origami bird. It's old, old enough that the paper has become stiff in its shape. He holds it up to the light of his candle and realises that he can see ink inside the bird. As gentle as he can, Regulus unfolds the bird, exposing the enclosed note.
With my last words I beg of you, it will be too late to save me by the time this reaches you. But please my friend, protect him. Run with him, far from here and love him for me. Never tell a soul.
Dread fills Regulus as the weight of the words hits him, he reaches into the pocket again and finds a second bird, with the same message. Regulus has seen these before. The folk can enchant them to fly to each other, simple messages and notes. If undelivered the birds simply return to the sender. Were these birds sent by Lady Lillian, or received by her? Was the wish honoured? Regulus hopes it was.
He skips lessons the next day, slinking from the house and into the woods. It takes him all day to locate everything he needs and all evening to turn the raw ingredients into their lethal forms. By that evening, Regulus has a chest hidden under his bed with 8 deadly poisons and the juice from one fairy fruit. On his knees by the bed Regulus takes a microdose from each vial, one droplet from each directly onto his tongue. He begins to shake seconds after the first droplet. By the time the 9th lands on his tongue, his vision is fading and panic begins to overtake him. Regulus barely has time to close the lid of the chest before he passes out on the floor.