Bloodlines
Regulus looked up at the night sky. He could see the full moon shining through the gray clouds. He suppressed the familiar longing to be up in the air. He missed flying. The noise from inside the house continued to drone on. After the announcement in the paper the Parkinson’s had insisted on throwing their “little Elsbeth” a proper party. Regulus had laughed when she told him that. Elsbeth was tall and slender. She’d not been little for quite a while.
“You really should come back in.” The lady in question said, coming out to join Regulus on the balcony of her parents' country house.
“Perhaps.” Regulus replied. He and Elsbeth had started to spend some more time together in an attempt to make their union less unpleasant.
“You really don’t like people do you!” Elsbeth asked.
“Not particularly,” Regulus replied, never taking his eyes off the moon.
“Have you ever loved anyone?”
The question caught Regulus off guard. Only years of practice kept his face and tone completely neutral. “No.” He lied smoothly.
“Could you love me?” The tone was matter of fact, but Regulus heard the same longing he’d felt growing up to recognize it.
“Perhaps. I imagine you are a lovable person. I am not.”
Elsbeth laughed, low and throaty. They stood staring at the sky in comfortable silence. “Why are we doing this?”
“Bloodlines.”
“Apparently. Happiness?”
“We’ll work something out.”
“Back to the party?”
“If I must.”
“You must. Then you can retreat.”
Regulus nodded and offered Elsbeth his arm. “When you’re ready, tell me what you really want and I’ll do what I can to make it happen.” He said as they moved towards the door.
Elsbeth smiled up at him, her eyes wide. “Thank you Regulus. I will.”
Elsbeth was not sure what to make of the young Lord Black. Only a year or so younger than her Regulus acted several years older. Also despite the praise of her mother, he was not conventionally attractive, being far too thin and pale in an era which celebrated tall, blond hair, a tan and muscles as its idea of beauty. The other aspect of Regulus which struck Elsbeth as interesting, was his ability to remain emotionless regardless of what was happening around him including his mother’s derisive comments, his cousin’s mad capers, or the sycophantic behaviour of the lesser houses. Elsbeth knew that preserving an outter layer was a necessity in their world, however the level of cold disdain Regulus emitted made it hard to judge where the mask ended and the real person began. Or if there was even a real person left. Elsbeth suppressed a sigh. Regulus was a conundrum completely at odds with her own life
While in Switzerland, where she’d been sent to live with her mother’s family during the war, Elsbeth had been kept appraised of Lord Voldemort and his inner circle. Her father had been one of the many family heads who supported the dark Lord unconditionally and followed the direction of the ruthless group of advisors and wizards at the forefront of every battle. Regulus had been whispered about as being the heir apparent to the Dark Lord’s empire - a scary prospect as a husband when her father first proposed the coupling. Then Elsbeth had met him. Regulus was nothing like what she had been led to expect. The older wizards certainly respected him, even if they resented his position. She could see many, like her brothers, also feared him. But the arrogance and sense of entitlement her mother had spoken about simply wasn’t there. If it wasn’t for the fact others deferred to him, Elsbeth would never have even noticed the elegantly dressed, dark haired youth standing to one side always listening and rarely talking.
Since his return from illness, Elsbeth and Regulus had spent time together trying to get to know each other. Elsbeth found herself liking the cynical young man with his fierce intelligence and quiet manners. He listened while she talked, and she found herself sharing more than she normally would to anyone other than her lovers. Regulus shared nothing of himself, but for some reason that didn’t bother Elsbeth. Regulus also never asked anything intrusive or made unsavoury remarks, unlike many of the other men her parents had decided were suitable matches. Now Regulus had given her an opening and she knew he meant it. For what purpose, Elsbeth didn’t know or particularly care. It was all about timing.
Arm in arm they re-entered the party. The severe Lord Black and the charming Miss Parkinson. A perfect couple in a world where bloodlines and power meant more than love and happiness.
—
Regulus looked at his watch. It was after midnight and he was beyond bored. He’d escaped into the balcony again but this time he’d been followed out by Lucius Malfoy and Adolphus Evergreen who were crowing about how amazing their new born children were. In the distance a wolf howled. Regulus wished he could be wherever that wolf was. Running free.
“Ah Black.” Slurred Evergreen “Man of the hour. Soon you two will be celebrating the joys of your first child I’m sure. Don’t you agree Malfoy?”
Malfoy smirked slyly at Regulus, his eyes not quite as glassy with drink as Evergreens. “I’m sure young Black will want to practice a great deal more before a child is produced. Certainly Narcissa was insistent on it. It’s a Black family trait she said.”
“And no objections from you I warrant.” Evergreen gaffawed. Regulus winced. The man was a walking caricature of the classic 19th century English gentleman, right down to the tightly fitted robe over a growing paunch and red bulbous nose. It was painful. And pathetic.
Malfoy preened. “She is rather magnificent my wife. Very inventive as well.”
Regulus turned a steely gaze upon the two men. “This is my cousin you are speaking about. Leave before there are consequences.”
“No harm meant young Black. No harm meant. We all admire the women in your family. Very much in fact. Gorgeous pieces of stuff they are.” Evergreen said, holding up a placating hand.
“I don’t care that you admire my cousin. I care that you respect her. In public and in private.” Regulus said, his voice laced with poison.
“C…Come Lucius. My glass requires refilling.” Evergreen stuttered, downing his drink.
Malfoy glared at Regulus, a promise of retribution in his eyes. Regulus remained impassive. ‘When you’ve taken out evil and faced down a god, then little man your look might scare me. Or not.’ He thought returning the look with such abject contempt Malfoy blanched and almost ran after his friend.
“What happened there?” Elsbeth asked as she approached Regulus.
“I took offense on Narcissa’s account. Not that she would have cared either way, but I found it amusing.”
“They're a dangerous pair.” Elsbeth observed.
Regulus shrugged. “Danger is relative.” he replied enigmatically. “How much longer do your parents expect us to remain?”
“We’re free to go.” Elsbeth smiled. “You know, I’ve no idea where you actually live.”
“You've been to the house. Several times I believe.”
“Yes. But you don’t live there. Stay perhaps, not live.”
Regulus laughed thinly. “Very observant. I have my own place. No one visits. I like it that way. What about you?”
Elsbeth sized him up. “I also have my own place. We like visitors.”
“We?” Regulus was curious.
Elsbeth considered for a long moment. “My lovers and I.”
Regulus smiled. A genuine smile. Elsbeth watched the stern blink away replaced by something warm and almost beautiful for just a moment. “I did say you were lovable.” He said simply.
“You. You don’t mind?”
Regulus shook his head. “No. Why would I? This is a marriage of convenience. We both know that. You live your life. I’ll live mine.”
The smile had gone, yet Elsbeth felt that some of the remoteness had as well. Impulsively she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” She whispered. “Maybe you can visit us one day.”
The wolf howled again. “I’ll think about it.” Regulus said. “Shall we leave?”
Elsbeth smiled and nodded. Maybe this could work after all.