Part. 1 — 2. Fire and ice
This had to be the cruellest, most vile punishment his parents had ever come up with. When he had turned sixteen and he had been caught smoking herbs with minstrels and whores, Minerva McGonagall, his preceptor, had given him a dreadful lectures about moralities and about how a prince should behave in society. At the time, James had been convinced that nothing could be worse than sitting in the library with a very annoyed, very disapproving Minerva. It turned out that they were worse things out there, truly evil things, and he was married to one.
The ceremony had been absolutely blimey. Trumpets and harps had played what James knew was his death song. People had danced in their glory, and James had thought it to be macabre. The feast had been impossibly worse. As per traditions, the newly weds had had to feed each other and drink from the same cup. The mere thought of his lips touching the same goblet Regulus’s had appalled James, and he was still uncertain whether or not Regulus’s lips bore some kind of deadly poison. But these were nothing compared to the horrific, albeit holy, ribbon that trapped the two princes together. The ribbon was a sign of the couple’s linked souls, and it needed to be wore for twenty-four hours.
When noble people married, the Deities had to be consulted in order bless the union and guarantee prosperity to the newly weds and their families. If the Deities showed a sign of disapproval, the marriage could not be celebrated. The Deities were wrathful and capricious entities that unleashed great catastrophes if their will was ignored. No one would be so foolish as to go against them and risk obliteration. To make sure that the Deities’ wishes were properly understood, for a misinterpretation could bear disastrous consequences, Elders and sometimes Priestesses were present to interpret the signs. Elders and Priestesses were women who had dedicated their lives to the worship of the Deities. They nurtured a peculiar relationship with the entities and many were uncomfortable in their presence for their white eyes were rumoured to see in one’s soul.
No matter how insolent James could be, he knew better than to go against the Deities. But that did not mean that he had to like this wedding, in fact he properly hated it. Most of all, he hated Regulus Black, the Ice Prince, like many people in Phobos. Everyone had heard the horrific tales about the Ice Prince, whose cruelty terrorized even the most fearless warrior. Regulus hadn’t earned his title of Ice Prince just because of his legendary cruelty, but mostly because he controlled water, and by extension ice.
Magic was in everything. Everyone possessed, to some extent, magic abilities. Most people only had figments of magic in them, and they could barely see the traces magic left in the world, but it was as present as the morning breeze or the stars in the sky. Noble families, and particularly royal families, had a stronger link with magic. As all things, magic came from Deities, and according to the myths and legends, the royal families directly descended from Deities. If not everyone agreed on this, no one could deny the powerful magic that ran through royal blood.
According to the legends, the Potters descended from Phobos himself, the God of the Sun. In mythological times, after years of travelling the Earth in search of a suitable place to finally settle, he had come across a small and humble village of fishermen. The people lived by the sea and lived off its resources. After fishing, most would enjoy their afternoons on the sand, taking in the waves of the sea and the sun. Their pure love and fidelity to him, the sun, touched Phobos and he granted them his love and protection in exchange. If they agreed to worship him and give him offerings twice a year, he would watch over them and make sure to shine bright for them. It is unclear how the Potter dynasty came to exist, for those were ancient times and the parchments have long been lost to time, but they have proved themselves to be great and just leaders.
When James had been born, the Elders had prophesied a great destiny for the heir to the throne. Although some would argue that growing up James had turned out to be a stain on the family’s name and legacy, it was undeniable that he possessed the purest and strongest form of power. Much like Regulus, he could control an element: fire. However, contrary to the Ice Prince, James had poor control over his affiliation with fire. Just as he was short tempered, his powers were unpredictable and often came in bursts and explosions. While Regulus had learned how to control ice at a very young age, and use it wisely to his advantage, James could only do party tricks and most often than not he was controlled by fire more than he controlled the element. In many midst of passion he had unwillingly set many bushes on fire, much to the gardener’s despair.
In many aspects, the two princes were very different, like the opposite sides of a coin. How could anyone expect fire and ice to exist together— much less tolerate each other?
As the tables were cleaned of the now empty plates, James dreaded what was to come. Him who had always been brilliant at parties and dancing, now wanting nothing more than to crawl out of the throne room. Unfortunately, with the ribbon holding him captive, he reluctantly got up and slowly made his way to the centre of the room. He loathed the feeling of Regulus’s cold hands against his. It was more than just because Regulus was his mortal enemy, and every fibre in him had been raised to kill Asterians. In Phobos, the sun always shun in such a lovely way, and having such an intimate link to fire, James had never known such a piercing cold that radiated off Regulus. It unsettled him, and every instinct he had was telling him to run away from this abnormality.
Going against everything he had been taught, James slowly turned to face Regulus. Bowing to his now husband, he brought their joined hands to his lips and placed an oh so gentle kiss against their joined fingers. Even if he believed that Regulus didn’t deserve the respect he was showing him, he also knew than to trample on traditions would disgrace the Potter’s lineage. Rising up, he wrapped his free arm around Regulus’s waist to lead the dance as the minstrels started singing about love and long lasting peace. Almost as if they were one, the audience had hold their breaths, nervous and curious about how the two princes would act, but seeing as they had not murdered each other yet, some of the tension left the throne room.
Dancing with James was similar to holding a fuming ball of lava in one’s hand. It was deeply unpleasant, and even if he proved himself to be a great dancing partner, Regulus wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to combust into flames. He had heard the stories about the prince’s short temper, and his astonishing lack of control over his power, but Regulus had doubted them. However, now that he had actually met the prince, he could confidently say that they had downplayed it. Having been used to ice cold weather all his life, this sudden, drastic change of temperature was making him uneasy. His head was spinning, he was sweating for probably the first time, his mouth was dry— a feeling he had never known before, and everywhere his skin touched James’s he felt like he was catching fire in the most unsettling way. This ordeal was highly uncomfortable, but he reminded himself that he was enduring this for the sake of his people.
“I have to say, dear husband, the stories are far too kind to you.” James said in a soft, conversational tone, an insolent, cocky smile curling his lips upwards. Even if couples were dancing around them, no one could really hear what they were saying. One could easily confuse their conversation for a friendly acquaintance. “In person, you are as beautiful as a hung-over pixie. As gracious as a toad missing a limb. As impressive as a deformed hunchback. I fear your hideousness knows no bound, my love.”
“One could say the same about you.” Regulus replied, matching James’s disgustingly soft tone. “Your famous incompetence transcends borders, but I believe it is even greater than what the stories praise. You have such poor control over your element, one could doubt you even have royal blood in your veins.” Did James really think he could hurt Regulus with such childish insults? He had years of experience bickering with Sirius, James had no idea what he was getting himself into. “I reckon a mere peasant would be more deserving of Phobos’s gift than yourself.” He sneered.
Judging by the flame in James’s eyes, Regulus understood that he hadn’t expected that reaction and if the rising temperature between their bodies was any indication, James wasn’t happy about it. Good. Regulus had gone willingly into this wedding, knowing that another war would take far too big of a toll on his people, but that didn’t mean he would let James be a little shit to him. And indeed, James was planning to be a little shit to Regulus. If he was his punishment, then he was going to make him as miserable as James was.
———
Regulus had always hated weddings and celebrations. They always lingered, and it was always awkward to leave early. No matter how much he wanted to, he unfortunately couldn’t disappear on his own wedding day and had to entertain nobles until late in the evening. Being tied to James made it infinitely worse— the other couldn’t stay still for more than five seconds. Regulus was far more comfortable reading in a library than chatting and sharing pleasantries with strangers. Of course, James the complete opposite, and when he had seemed to notice that Regulus was growing tire and sore, he became even more restless and made them dance and spin for what seemed like centuries. Between the suffocating heat emanating from their joint limbs and the constant dancing, Regulus barely had a moment to catch his breath and was completely disoriented. It seemed they had been dancing for a week straight when it was finally acceptable for them to retreat in their apartments.
Compared to the pack throne room, the rest of the castle seemed empty. As soon as they were out, James led the way to their new quarters, forcing them to walk at a fast pace. He suspected James of trying to tire him even more and get on his nerves, but Regulus barely paid it any attention as he finally felt like he could breath. He was immensely grateful for the cold air that gently moved through the corridors. Slowly, his mind was clearing, and it slightly felt less overwhelming than it had amongst the dancing crowd. Although they were still linked, they didn’t have to embrace each other like they had done all evening, and both men stood as far away as he could from the other.
It would take a time for Regulus to get used to this new castle, but for now he refused to let himself compare the two castles. This day had been emotional enough.
At last, they reached the wing they would now live in— their royal apartments. Although he had known that it would be expected of them to consume their marriage, Regulus felt horror at the sight of their bedroom door. Now that no one was around to chaperone them, Regulus could feel bile rising up in his throat. He knew he would need to be intimate with James, and nothing was more horrendous than this. Silently, he followed James into their bedroom, as if by staying quiet he would be able to make himself disappear, or at least make the other forget about their marital duties.
What he hadn’t expected was James to laugh. It brought him out of his stupor, staring at James who was most definitely laughing at him.
“Did you actually think I would want to lay with you? By Phobos, that’s hilarious!” James said, laughing even louder. Regulus hated how this wounded his pride when mere moments ago he was petrified at the idea of intercourse. “You do know they call you the Frigid Prince behind your back, yeah?” James asked with fake sympathy. “No wonder, really, I have yet to meet someone more repulsive than you. Who would even desire someone like you?” James had finally stopped laughing, which was even worse because now he was looking at Regulus with pure contempt, a hint of malice in his eyes.
Regulus stared at James and took a deep breath, concentrating and forcing himself to relax. He tightened his grip on James’s hand, deepening their contact. This allowed him to have an acute sense of James, and he focused on the water in James’s body. The second he could feel the molecules in James’s body, he started freezing them. James’s cockiness disappeared immediately, replaced by pain. Regulus stared at him as James dropped to his knees, powerless and frightened. In this moment, Regulus held James’s life in his hand, and the clear unbalance of power between the couple was established.
“Remember this moment, James Potter.” Regulus said calmly and clearly. “You are a weak, pathetic, little man and I will not let you humiliate me.”
Regulus enjoyed the control he had over James in that moment. He enjoyed the fear and pain he could see in his eyes. He had endured his pettiness all evening, but James was no match to him. When he felt like his point had been made, he released James from his icy touch, allowing the water to flow in his body again.
“From this moment on, know that the only reason you are alive is because I allowed it.”