The Wind
Regulus wakes up in a cold sweat. The sun had yet to peak over the lovely hills and trees around the Royal Castle and the morning air was frigid without its warmth. He had left the window slightly ajar last night and was now suffering the consequences.
Last night. The memories reappear in his sleepy mind. The masquerade ball turned into a murder scene. Sirius, gone. Initially, Regulus had been relieved that Sirius had disappeared, but now with the adrenaline of the night gone, he was confronted with a much more likely possibility. That he had been kidnapped. Held for ransom. Killed.
Regulus shivers under the emerald green sheets of his four poster bed. Maybe it had all been an extremely realistic nightmare. Perhaps he had indulged in a bit too much of the drinks with Abraxas and lost his memories of the true events of the night. This morning, he would rise to Sirius bursting into his room and grumbling about the responsibilities that were already piling up. Regulus would tell him that he was possibly the only man in the whole of Slytherin to complain about being appointed the Crown. Sirius would roll his eyes and say something snarky back. Yes, he would be here any minute now.
A sharp knock shatters his fantasy and Regulus barely manages to contain a groan as he sinks further into the warmth of his bed.
"Regulus?"Evan's soft voice echoes through the room, almost lingering in the cold autumn air.
"Careful there, Rosier, you might be beheaded for not addressing me properly and waking me up so rudely," Regulus grumbles. He is relieved that Evan had been the one at his door, but Regulus had wanted some more time before he had to confront the reality of the situation and adopt the burdens of the Royal House of Black.
"Apologies, my liege, it is time for thy Greatness to arise and meet his people," Evan replies, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm before balling up Regulus's silk gloves and launching them at the pillow next to him. Even in banter, Evan is careful not to hurt him.. It makes Regulus feel a sense of longing to bridge the ever present barrier in their friendship.
“And arise I shall,” Regulus sighs, stretching the sleep out of his limbs. He begins to get dressed, taking a quick glance at Evan to see that he has turned away to give Regulus some privacy. “How bad is it?”
“Regent Malfoy and her Highness are handling the situation. They’re doing their best to contain the spread of the news, but I expect it to travel by the end of this week. The families of the guards that were killed have been compensated and we will be holding a burial for them in three days time after their bodies have been searched for information. Their throats look to have been slit, and not by amateurs. No sign of a violent struggle where the Crown Prince was held, so we can assume that he is uninjured,” Evan pauses and drops his voice. “He will be okay, Reg.”
“I’ll be okay. I always am.”
Regulus almost chokes on the memory. He squeezes Evan’s shoulder in a show of gratitude and they begin walking.
“Any word on his whereabouts?” he asks.
“Actually, yes. Regent Malfoy received a letter this morning. We’re going to meet him with her Highness and the rest of the Royal Council now to open it.”
Regulus feels a desperate butterfly of hope fluttering in his chest. Perhaps Sirius had escaped his captors. Or he would reveal that he had not been captured at all. That it had all been an elaborate prank and that he was on his way back from his outing. It’s a foolish thought to have, but Regulus can’t help but let it live.
Regulus and Evan are the last to arrive in the Council Chamber. Although Abraxas had called an all hands meeting, various members of the Council have broken off into tight coils, exchanging hushed conversations. The air in the ornate room is already thick with tension and distrust. Regulus can only imagine what kind of impact Sirius's disappearance is going to have on the delicate political situation.
After Orion died, there had been a brief, but disastrous power struggle for the title of Regent. His father had died suddenly, taken overnight by a mysterious illness. An emergency meeting was called by his mother in order to appoint a regent to take over until Sirius became of age. Although Regulus had not been old enough to witness this meeting firsthand, Sirius would come back from it, fuming. He had wanted their uncle, Alphard, to be appointed Regent, but to his dismay, Abraxas Malfoy had won their mother's approval.
After Abraxas was appointed, several rumors about Wallaburga's selection plagued the royal halls. There were accusations that Abraxas and Wallaburga had been having an affair and that he would be appointed the Crown soon thereafter. Others suspected that Wallaburga had been bribed or threatened by the House of Malfoy. The years passed and Abraxas's hard work as Regent put a damper on the rumors, but the instability of a country without a Crown remained. The Council remained divided between those who supported Alphard and those who supported Abraxas and weakened due to a lack of unity.
"Esteemed members of the Royal Council, please take your seats," Abraxas calls. Regulus takes his seat beside his mother at the round table and Evan assumes his position behind him.
"I want to thank you for gathering here so early in the morning. As many of you know, our Crown Prince, Sirius Orion Black, was discovered to be missing before the Crowning Ceremony could commence last night. We lost two of our royal guards and Lord Rosier has been overseeing an investigation into the whereabouts of Crown Prince Sirius. Lord Rosier, please provide an update on this investigation," Abraxas exchanges a nod with the tall, dark haired man sitting across from them.
"Thank you, Regent Malfoy. Several of our royal guards have been inspecting and interviewing the attendees of the Royal Masquerade and Crowning Ceremony. We are looking to see if any of the royal guests witnessed anything strange. We have also obtained permission from the families of the fallen guards to perform a proper examination of their bodies. Preliminary examinations have revealed that we are dealing with seasoned criminals. The deaths were carried out quickly and cleanly. There was almost no sign of a struggle. We have reasonable evidence to believe that Crown Prince Sirius was not harmed, but we must not rule out this possibility."
Several unsettled murmurs break out in the Council Chamber. It dawns on Regulus that it must be the first time that this news has been shared publicly. Lord Rosier must have consulted with Evan before the meeting was called. He must have rushed over as soon as he found out. Regulus feels a warm rush of gratitude. He would need to properly thank him after the meeting.
"Thank you, Lord Rosier. With this information shared, I would also like to read the letter that her Highness received in the post this morning." Abraxas pulls out a yellow parchment from the breast pocket of his jacket. It has an ominous energy to it, the air almost turning frigid in its presence.
"He's alive. Fickle is this truth as are the people of Slytherin."
"That's it?" Regulus demands. He is standing, palms flush against the burgundy table. A strange cocktail of emotions rushes through his bloodstream. Anger. Anxiety. Worry. Rage. Confusion. It burns through Regulus, coating his throat, prickling his eyes, and crawling up his spine. His mother has reached out to his wrist and wrapped her cold fingers around it. To the others, it must seem like it is meant to comfort him, but Regulus knows the truth. He has gone too far and spoken up at the wrong moment. He feels her fingernails begin to dig into his skin, commanding him to sit back down before he makes a fool of himself. Regulus resists for a feeble moment before relenting.
"Unfortunately, so," Abraxas confirms. "Although it isn't much, I would like Sir Nott to perform an analysis on the letter. Lord Rosier, with the confirmation that Crown Prince Sirius is alive, I would like to focus our efforts on locating him. Governor Dolohov…"
Regulus lets the voices drone out. He can feel his heart pumping, pounding against his temple. Even with his little knowledge of who these people are, the fact that they were able to successfully even break into the Royal Castle during a heavily guarded event tells Regulus that they have a contact within these walls. If this contact was someone with connections to the Royal Council, then any official efforts to find Sirius would be in vain. They would know where the Royal Guard was searching.
But what if. What if they didn't know where the Royal Guard was searching? What if there was a secret search effort that even the Royal Council had no knowledge of? It would need to be led by someone who didn't need to report to the Council for instructions or guidance. Someone who was powerful enough to command his own efforts and yet, powerless enough to not be missed in the official search.
Someone like him.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The moon is high in the sky by the time Evan is relieved of his duties for the night. Although not his usual route, he had taken a quick detour to the stables to check on the royal mares. They always got uneasy around the full moon, and despite its true apex having been the night before, Evan knew those technicalities meant little to the horses.
Onyx nickers happily while Evan brushes her sleek black coat down. Since everyone had been busy the past few days and Sirius had gone missing, she hadn't been given the attention she was used to. He bends down to check her hooves and Onyx gives his hair a playful nibble, tickling the base of his neck.
"Oi, seems like you're doing pretty well, Nyxie. You don't seem to be missing Sirius quite yet," Evan laughs while gently swatting her away. When he stands, she nudges her head forward into his chest, pushing him backwards. Evan stumbles, knocking over the pail of water he had collected.
"Aw, come on girl. I've got to go back out to the well again," Evan clicks his tongue. He gathers the pail, along with a few other supplies that he thought needed a good rinse, and heads out towards the well.
The well is out by a quiet field where the horses stretch their legs during the daytime hours. Evan ties the rope to the handle of the pail and throws it down, disturbing the still image of the moon on the water's surface. While he waits for the pail to fill, he leans against the stone and closes his eyes. He drinks in the clear night air and listens intently to the calm chirp of the crickets nearby.
Then, a disturbance.
A quiet rustle of a leather satchel. The brush of traveling boots against the rough grass near the stable. An annoyed chuff from one of the horses.
Evan's eyes snap open. He rests his hand quickly against the knife he keeps on his belt and peers forward. A small cloaked figure is gently patting Erebus, Regulus's stallion. It is with this gentle action that he recognizes the figure.
Evan jogs cheerily towards the stable.
"Regulus! What are you doing out? If you fancied a late night ride, you could have told me before I left!" He calls out, waving his hands excitedly.
Regulus turns around, eyes wide with fright. His face relaxes with recognition and contorts again with guilt.
"I didn't expect anyone to be out by the stables so late," Regulus is looking down and he adjusts the satchel on his shoulder self-consciously.
Evan tilts his head in confusion, and then ice cold realization spreads throughout his body. Regulus was wearing the black cloak that he wore when he needed to travel out of the Royal Castle. His traveling boots were hurriedly laced and the leather satchel was stuffed, no doubt with a change of clothes.
"Regulus. What are you doing?" Evan asks, gently. Given the situation, the answer is quite clear, but still. Evan asks.
"I'm going to find Sirius. Evan, please. If you've ever considered me a friend, then I beg you not to tell anyone," Regulus grabs his hands, squeezing them desperately. "The Royal Guards will attract too much attention and it's clear that these people have some kind of source within the Castle. They will never find Sirius if they go around searching the towns. Rumors will spread and Sirius will be taken who knows where before Lord Rosier can even step foot into the outskirts of Slytherin."
Evan shakes his head, moving Regulus's hands away from his own and patting them gently.
"Evan-- If you can't promise me that, I'm going to need to command you as your prince--"
"No need for that, my liege. I'm coming with you," Evan smiles.
"What? Absolutely not!" Regulus pulls back sharply.
"Reg, did you even leave a note?"
"Why would I do that? It's a secret mission. You're not supposed to leave a note!" Regulus answers, exasperated. He's ticked off. Evan can tell.
"This is exactly why you need my expertise Mr. Prince," Evan sits down on the hay bale in the stable and gestures for Regulus to join him. With some hesitation, Regulus does. He looks towards Evan expectantly.
"I'm assuming you don't want to attract any attention? What do you think would happen if the Prince of Slytherin, the next Crown for the foreseeable future, went missing the day after the Crown Prince was kidnapped? No note, no explanation. His bedroom window ajar and his possessions missing. The whole kingdom will be in an uproar trying to find the missing Black brothers."
Regulus groans, rubbing his temples. Evan stifles a laugh. Regulus had always been strategic and creative, but he lacked some worldly insight due to his royal upbringing. It wasn't that he was self-centered or narrow minded exactly. In fact, it was as if Regulus often forgot how important he was. Even though they had been friends since childhood, Evan knew that Regulus would always be important in ways that he would never be. That fact would never change, no matter how much Regulus tried to ignore it.
"Evan. I don't even know what to do or where to begin. I'm completely lost without him. It's as if I've lost my guiding star. Where could he have gone? What if he's hurt? What if--"
Regulus looks up at Evan with wide eyes. They're filled with terror, desperation, longing. Emotions that Evan knew Regulus had been holding back until now. The last time Evan saw him like this was when Crown Orion died. Back then, it had been Sirius who comforted Regulus. Now, all Regulus had was him.
Evan takes Regulus by the shoulders, determined.
"I think I might know someone who can help us."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Regulus had never been outside the Royal Castle without a proper escort. He had never joined his father and Sirius out for their trips to the Hufflepuff Countryside, much preferring to stay in the bounds of the Royal Castle. His childhood had been spent in the Royal Library and occasionally in the stables with Evan. He had occasionally taken Erebus out when he was older for rides in the Southern Fields, but had always been accompanied by a fleet of guards.
This was clearly untrue for Evan. He wove through the streets of Slytherin swiftly, taking quick twists and shady shortcuts through the neighborhoods. They had long passed the inner districts that were inhabited by wealthy citizens and lesser political figures and were traveling further and further away from the heart of Slytherin. Regulus didn't know much about the outer neighborhoods, but knew that they were usually inhabited by poorer citizens and wayward travelers. Abraxas had always told him that a good ruler needed to know how to prioritize the Kingdom's resources -- how to balance the demands of the people. Regulus had always assumed that many of the Slytherin citizens lived without want. That they always lived with food, shelter, and safety.
What he witnesses shocks him. Concave roofs. Alleys smelling of excrement and waste. It's filthy. Even the rats in the Royal Castle lived in better conditions. Regulus resists the urge to wrinkle his nose when they pass by the hungry people lining the streets. Their hands reach out halfheartedly towards them, sluggishly asking for money. In front of him, Evan ducks quickly into a shop. Regulus takes a quick look at the rickety sign before following suit -- The Leaky Cauldron.
Regulus grimaces. Leaky, for sure. The dodgy bar's roof had been damaged and the light shower outside trickles in slowly. The air smells faintly of mildew and old cloth. The patrons barely give their abrupt entrance a second glance before resuming their chatter. Evan actually claps a few backs on his way to the back of the bar, greeting everyone good naturedly. Regulus finds himself overthinking the way he walks when he follows. He clearly doesn't belong here.
"Oi, you alright there pretty boy?" The man at the bar snickers at him, his hands polishing a glass with a worn rag. Regulus steps back quickly, unsure if the man meant it maliciously. He resists the urge to hide his face deeper beneath his hood. It's doubtful that anyone in this dimly lit bar would recognize him, but it wasn't impossible.
"Aye, Tom, lay off 'em. He's with me," Evan leans against the wood countertop, an amused crooked smile on his face.
The man, Tom, grunts in response as Regulus gingerly sits on the stool next to Evan. He folds his hands together as calmly as he can manage and leans in cautiously.
"Evan, what is this place?" Regulus whispers. More importantly, why were they here? When Evan said that he knew someone who could help them, Regulus had assumed it would be someone in Lord Rosier's circle. Not someone in the most run down bar in Slytherin.
"Trust me, yeah?" Evan smiles at him, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. "Tom, could we get two Bloody Barons? Chilled."
"We're all out. Next shipment is due in two days." Tom sets the glass down next to Evan. Regulus observes their interaction carefully. Tom is an older man, the lines of age showing faintly on his worn face. He couldn't be over fifty, but the hard life in the outer neighborhoods had clearly taken a toll on the man. How did Evan come to know him? Did he frequent this place? Evan spent most of his waking hours with Regulus. He was by his side when he woke and was the last to bid him goodnight. When did he even have the time?
"Do you have any in the back? It's quite urgent. A favor for your favorite customer perhaps?" Evan presses. There is a brief moment of silence, but by the intensity of it, Regulus suspects that there is something else underfoot. This can't be a conversation about a simple cocktail. Tom sighs.
"Alright then, let's go. You're taking blame if the boss gets upset," he pushes Evan goodnaturedly, gesturing for them to follow quickly. Regulus dismounts gracelessly from the stool, tripping over his haste.
The light above them flickers unevenly, the soft electric hum accompanying the groans of the stairs. They have headed to the back of the bar and ducked under an archway to a set of old wooden stairs. The room that they arrive in is an unassuming storage space, packed with dusty crates and old liquor bottles. Tom pauses, mumbling under his breath.
"Three to the left and under the wood cleft… Ah!" He pushes against the shelved wall that he just uncovered. To Regulus's surprise, the wall yields and begins to turn with a low grumble, revealing a dark passage. Evan strikes a match against the stone wall and lights the torch leaning against it.
"Two Bloody Barons," Evan hands Tom a few sickles, his grin illuminated by the soft firelight.
"Enjoy boys," Tom winks in response and heads back upstairs. Regulus watches in a stunned silence.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Evan begins making his way down the passage.
"I'm waiting for an explanation?" Despite feeling extremely doubtful about this whole ordeal that they've gone through, Regulus finds himself following. Better to be confused and with Evan than confused and alone.
"A left here… A right at the broken gargoyle… Oh, he's moved that creepy chest finally," Evan comments cheerily as they walk.
"You've been here before?" The air in the passage is cold and the question comes up in a soft fog.
"Yeah, but I never know where to push that wall. Tom refuses to tell me the song he uses to remember. Suppose he appreciates the sickles he gets when he helps out a customer," Evan shrugs nonchalantly, as if everyone has a bartender who lets them into secret passageways. "Ah! We're here."
Three rhythmically spaced out knocks on an old metal door. Regulus doesn't hear a response, but Evan opens it anyway.
"Tom, I told you I'm busy. Come back in two--" Their torch illuminates a blonde man bent over a desk. The cigarette he's smoking creates an almost mystical haze around him. When he looks up, his eyes brighten with recognition. "Rosier!"
The blonde man practically leaps himself out of his seat, stepping onto the desk and the papers to launch himself at Evan.
"Oi! You crazy bastard!" Evan yelps in surprise, but he laughs. He rubs his knuckles into the man's head affectionately. A strange jealousy settles stubbornly into Regulus's throat and he finds himself looking away from the pair. Evan has never roughhoused with him like that, even when they were kids. Awkwardly, he stands straighter and clears his throat.
"Ah! Regulus, this is Barty, the Bloody Baron of Slytherin. Barty, this is Regulus, the Prince of Slytherin," Evan smiles broadly.
Regulus meets Barty's eyes. They're opened wide with curiosity and sparkle with a certain wild quality. He's breathing heavily, still catching his breath from the excitement of his reunion with Evan. Barty smiles widely at him.
"Well this night just got a hell of a lot more interesting."