The death of us all

This was unexpected. A hand grips the back of his neck and pushes a dagger gently into the soft skin there at the same time Dorcas presses a dagger of her own into the underside of Marlene's jaw. He can’t see who is holding him, but their grip is firm and practiced, the dagger held exactly against his jugular, a thumb pressing slightly on his pulse. 

He's turned round slowly to face two people all looking in his direction, dagger held steady all the while. 

"I'm afraid Mr potter," the one with flaming red hair says, "that I'm very protective over my crew."

James is officially very confused, Marlene’s flirting couldn't have been that bad, and other than her, none of them have spoken to anyone new tonight.

The two sit on stools, the one with red hair slightly taller and fiercer looking, and her companion, a girl with blonde braids and dark skin. Both are beautiful and a little disconcerting. James feels slightly like a child being reprimanded again by adults far older and wiser than him. 

"That's understandable, but I think you'll find I've done nothing to harm your crew." James states, feeling the dagger press a little deeper as he speaks.

"That may be true” Her voice is melodic but salty, like a sea bird gliding on the gentlest breeze, and part of James instantly likes her. She sounds like his mother did when she sang shanties. “However earlier tonight, a member of your crew attempted to seduce my carpenter, and was swiftly taught a lesson when he wouldn't take her no for an answer." She stands and lays a hand on her sword. "Yet I have just seen you defend a woman you don't know from men trying to do the same thing."

James feels anger heat underneath his skin again and he swallows, trying not to focus on the feeling of pressure against his throat. He tilts his head back slightly, keeping eye contact with the red haired girl whilst wondering if it was foolish to go for his daggers just to even the playing field. This more strategic thinking helped cool his blood.

“I would like to apologise to both you and your carpenter, and ask of the name of this man, because I can assure you they are no longer a member of our crew."

"A man by the name of Lockhart."

James feels the roar in his ears start up again so he does the first thing he can think of, and whistles for Sirius. It's a thing from childhood that's still useful around the ship, one long note that pitches up at the end, even years later it makes Sirius’s head snap up, as he nudges Remus and Peter.  

He can see them begin pushing through the crowd and it relaxes him a little. Without thought, he pushes against the dagger a little, the pain grounding him in a way. It’s a bad habit from youth, he hated lying so Sirius taught him to dig his fingers into his palm, a trick used often by the black brothers. It helped to ground him and allow him to think clearly. 

"Prongs?" Sirius asks, surveying the scene before him, gun drawn. "Put your dagger down." This is directed at the person stood with their hands at James's throat, and it's accompanied with the raising of Sirius's gun. 

"Lockhart did it again, the bastard. He's off the crew, we need to find a new cabin boy by tomorrow." James growls, feeling the blade break skin. Warm wet beads down his skin and he swallows again.

Sirius just nods and gestures again at the person holding the dagger to James's throat. "Let him go." He prompts, "you draw any more of his blood and I'll shoot you."

"Put the gun down Sirius," the voice is cold and disdainful. "You always were the dramatic one."

Sirius drops the gun.

"Regulus?" He whispers, and Remus grasps his elbow to keep him upright.

James remembers Regulus, of course he does. Being one year younger, he was always far more reserved than Sirius, but when he spoke, he made people listen. 
James was always slightly enamoured with him, especially when he was around sixteen, and Regulus was fifteen, newly out of a growth spurt that left him tall and willowy, with pale skin and sharp eyes that seemed to see right through James.

But two years into pirateering, they had gone home to visit the village they had grown up in only to hear bad news. Regulus had disappeared a few days earlier and just that morning a body had been round washed up in the bay.

Sirius hadn't spoken for a week after. The two had been incredibly close as young children although they went different ways in teenage years. But Regulus had been dead for six years now. How could it be that he was here, knife to James' throat in a way that was making his heart pound.

"Hello Sirius" The voice had softened slightly, but the cool collectedness was still the most present feature of his tone.

At a nod from the woman with red hair, the knife was dropped from his throat and he saw Dorcas withdraw too, offering Marlene an apologetic smile.

"I trust that this man will be dealt with accordingly then?"

James nods, striding over to Sirius and slipping a hand onto his best friends shoulder, who stood frozen, eyes fixed on Regulus. The man wears a scarf tied over his face but his eyes are the same. They slide from Sirius to Remus and finally to James.

His ribs tighten around his lungs. Regulus's eyes are like they were at fifteen, when they haunted James like a ghost in the dark hours of the night.
They were still framed by thick eyelashes, still surrounded by pale skin, speckled with sunkisses, the whole wonderful photo surrounded by dark curls dancing with lighter strands, stained gold by hours in the sun. James suddenly wishes to see the gentle jaw, soft lips, aristocrat smirk that wound him up no end when he was young and stupid. Or has regulus changed so much that James would not recognise him, scarf or no scarf. The possibility of a different regulus both excites and terrifies James in a kamikaze kind of way.

His eyes have changed though,  these eyes are not looking him with exasperated fondness as they had been in youth. These eyes flashed with something that send a shiver down James's spine. Fuck.

"They told me you were dead." Sirius leaned into Remus, keeping his eyes on his estranged brother. "They told me you drowned."

"Clearly not," Regulus replies tartly, ripping his eyes away from James. He eases back onto his stool and begins to flip the dagger in his delicate long fingers and if that doesn't make James heart stutter nothing will.

Regulus Black playing with a dagger is far more flustering that the sight should be.

"As heart warming as this chilly reunion is, we need to leave." The red headed woman reminds her crew, face blank of emotion. “We are leaving port early, I’m sure you understand.”

Sirius's eyes blow wide as if he's just remembered the entire group of people watching them, and he steps back.

"Yes," he shakes his head a little and James frowns, "we need to go too."

”Regulus, if you wish to stay and talk to you brother, I will give you tonight.” The red head says, softly now. 

James’ pulse spikes at the thought of regulus, then immediately plummets when he realises what this will do to Sirius. They mourned together, for the lost brother. Sometimes James still finds Sirius out late at night, stood to the helm and clutching a scrap of something James knew belonged to regulus because he had helped Sirius steal it from the Black residence when they found out regulus was dead.

He turns to look at his best friend, who is looking at his brother with a mix of fear and misery that confirms the worst. Sirius is not ready for this. 

But it seems neither is Regulus. 

“Not tonight.” He murmurs, tucking a delicate silver dagger back into a sly pocket and sliding like a cat off his stool. He nods to the girl next the the red head, who paces forwards and lays a hand on his arm, walking him out. Just like that, he’s gone and James is reeling with the possibility he fully imagined everything that just happened, one moment of madness, longing for a lost boy, a dead childhood crush. 

The look on Sirius’s face tells him he did not imagine it. Sirius looks ready to vomit. He runs a hand over his face, turns on his heels and marches out, taking Remus by the hand and tugging him along. Peter scurries after them. James turns to Marlene.

"If you want to stay longer, I don't think Pads will notice," He glances at Dorcas, "but I'm not sure if daggers are your thing or not."

Marlene looks at him, then looks long and hard at Dorcas, who blushes slightly and raises an eyebrow. She shakes her head.

"Miss meadows and I have to have a little discussion today about first impressions." She smirks, still looking at Dorcas. "And I'm nothing if not stubborn."

"Alright Marls, just be back by sunrise for rum runs." He claps her on the shoulder and turns on his heel, trying not to hope that he will meet regulus still outside. He should be thinking about Sirius right now, and he is. But some old part of him is smouldering, the kindling burning golden in a way he didnt know it still could. He is filled with a giddy kind of childish love that he had not felt since his parents had departed this world. This is the affect regulus has on him, even now, and that is more dangerous than a dagger held to his throat.