deeper waters

“Good going Padfoot, you’ve brought a dead man onto my ship.”

In the space of a breath, Regulus ascertained his situation all too clearly. The darkness. The rocking earth. The splinters knifing his hands.

He was on a ship. A pirate ship. A pirate ship on the ocean . 

Regulus shot up from the floor, using his legs to push himself back from the voices bickering in the darkness. His back hit an obstacle. Against his pride, he cowered. His eyes darted around, searching for little pinpricks of light through the bag.

“Oh,” came the bright voice again, “I stand corrected. Huzzah! The boy who lived!”

The click of footsteps. The yanking of the bag from his head. Sunlight. 

Regulus’s vision was slow to clear. But in front of him, nearly nose to nose, was another boy. The owner of the bright voice, cheerful, clear as a bell. 

Sunny, almost. 

His messy brown hair flopped over a pair of water-stained wire glasses. Despite the afternoon heat, he wore a short red coat over an open shirt. A captain’s coat.

“Nice of you to join us.” The captain squinted at Regulus, and then smiled with all his teeth, wide and genuine. Regulus was suddenly reminded of Pandora, a thought that sent a sharp spike of grief through his heart. Where were his friends? Where was he?

“I’m James,” chirped the captain, “I’ll be your humble guide and master of the high seas while you’re aboard our fine Lady Lily .”

“James, don’t overwhelm him,” said another voice, brassy and kind. 

This voice belonged to a boy to James’s left, sitting cross legged against a mast. His face would have been neutral, accepting even, if not for the claw of white scars scratched deep into his skin. His mouth twisted slightly, worrish and wary. His hand rested on a sabre at his hip.

James threw his hands up defensively, “What’s the matter Moony? I’m just giving him the regular orientation.”

“Yes and that’s all well,” the scarred boy, Moony, said, “But you can be a bit too…”

“Charismatic? Devilishly handsome?” James suggested.

“Gratingly enthusiastic,” came a different, deadpan tone.

Regulus looked to James’s right, to the dark haired boy stretched out across the opposite railing. His silver mask glared white in the sun. Padfoot, he was called. The figure. The whisper.

The fucking bastard who had put Regulus here in the first place. 

Regulus loured in Padfoot’s general direction. Padfoot, eyes closed against the day, didn’t notice. James, however, did.

“Oi,” his voice snapped Regulus out of his fury, “What’s your problem?”

“I may have knocked him a little harder than strictly necessary,” Padfoot answered. He rolled his head towards Regulus and opened his eyes. Grey eyes. Hawkish eyes. He winked, “Hope you don’t hold it against me.” 

Regulus snarled low in his throat. Padfoot closed his eyes again. 

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that by the way,” said James sheepishly, “No other way to get you back to ship without causing a ruckus.” 

“Where am I?” Regulus growled.

James blinked.

“You’re on the Lady Lily ,” he replied.

“You said that.”

“I did.”

“I mean where on the ocean .”

“Ah. Yes. Remus?”

Remus- Moony, whoever he was- pulled a compass from his pocket and took a brief look at its face. He snapped the lid shut.

“I’d say we’re about fifty or so miles south of the Dorset shore now.” Remus said. He put away the compass.

Fifty miles . Fifty miles from Dorset, which was still nearly seventy miles from Wiltshire. Regulus was one hundred and twenty miles from home. One hundred and twenty miles from the Rosier estate, from his family at Black manor, from Pandora and Evan and Dorcas and Barty. He was one hundred and twenty miles from a home that was never really his, but goddamn he had clung to it like a baby blanket, thrown himself into the parties and the manners and the finery like his life depended on it. 

In some ways, it had. 

Panicked, Regulus tried to scramble up to his feet; to go where, he didn’t know. Off the side? Into the berth? Scramble to the top of the mainmast and wave his hands like the desperate fool he was? He needed to stand, to see the ocean, to know for certain this wasn’t actually happening .

He stumbled and fell against the rail. James’s hands closed around his arms to haul him up, his grip warm and strong and sickeningly real. James helped Regulus turn himself to look over the side of the ship. Regulus nearly sobbed. 

Endless blue. A quickening sea, thrashing and tumbling, throwing itself against Lady Lily with a suppressed vigor. The horizon tapered off into a thin line of black as water met sky and then there was nothing. 

Regulus’s legs were on the verge of giving out. James held him up anyway, not saying a thing. 

“Why…” Regulus choked out, “Why did you do this to me?”

James had the nerve to look stricken. 

“Reggie, I-”

“You are not to call me that,” Regulus burst out, shaken, “My name is Regulus Arcturus Black and I demand you return me home.”

Regulus forced himself to adopt his Face, the expression he used with people who were lower than him, people who should have been grateful they crossed paths with a Black and made it out alive. He lowered his gaze. He lifted his chin. He thanked Merlin he didn’t look as terrified as he felt.

A spout of laughter came from the sky. Everyone on deck looked up. A blond boy sat casually in the crow’s nest on the mainmast, dangling his legs over the edge. 

“You nabbed another Black boy. James, you clever twat-” he leered.

“Shut it,” called out Padfoot, “It was my idea. I put him up to it.”

 The boy looked a bit disappointed at this news. He returned to his silence, a monk of the sea in the basket of the ship. 

James returned his focus to Regulus. He loosened his grip, backing away. This sudden loss of contact left Regulus feeling painfully cold and empty.

James took a measured breath, “I think it’s best we get you settled in. Remus can help explain. That right?” He looked to Remus. Remus nodded. James cast a last glance at Regulus, something like worry and sadness swimming on his features. 

“I have to get back to helm,” James said distractedly and walked up the stairs towards the back of the ship. Remus stood and crossed to Regulus. He pulled out his sabre.

Upon seeing Regulus’s wide eyes, he assured him, “I’m just going to cut your bonds.”

He looked down at Regulus. A length of thick cord snared his hands.

Remus, with utter care, positioned the sabre under a section of the cord and tugged upward. He helped untangle Regulus. His hands were as scarred as the rest of him, wrapping all the way down his exposed forearms to his palms in long ropes of tissue. Regulus did not conceal his staring.

Remus smiled gently, “I’m not as scary as I look, I promise.”

“How am I to trust you? You kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I didn’t. Courtesy of our dear Padfoot, I’m afraid,” Remus stole a look at Padfoot, still lounging on the rail. Affection was plain on his face, “He’s not usually so rough. With others, I mean.”

“What are you going to do with me?” asked Regulus.

Remus blew a tired breath out of his mouth, “Hopefully help you feel a little more comfortable. I’ll explain things once we’re down in the cabins, okay?”

Regulus said nothing. The ocean mocked him from all angles.

“Look, if you’re thinking of jumping off, I’d advise against it,” said Remus nervously, sheathing his sabre, “The water’s cold and we’re too far from any shore. You wouldn’t make it.”

Regulus chuckled drily. He started to follow Remus below decks. 

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t swim anyway.”

The hull was brutally humid. The narrow hallway was peppered with doors, splitting off to wrap around the ship once more. Regulus guessed there were few entrances. And even fewer exits. 

Remus led him into a cabin, gutted of belongings, except for a few random knick knacks sticking out of a small dresser. A cot was smashed in the corner. A small window revealed, surprise, even more ocean. Remus sat Regulus down on the cot.

“Now, let’s take a look at that head,” said Remus.

His fingers were gentle, as probing and objective as a nurse. When Regulus winced, Remus stood.

“You’ll need better care than I can give you. I’ll find Lily and bring her in.” he said.

“Lily?” Regulus asked, “The ship?”

Remus, halfway through opening the door, narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he laughed. 

“No, girl Lily. She’s the ships’ namesake, and a worthy one at that. Dead canny. She should just be down the hall.”

“I’ve been summoned?”

Pushing open the door, a girl entered the cabin. Pretty, with a full figure and an armful of medical supplies that spoke of a lovely, firm disposition. Her ginger hair was escaping from its braided bun in snarls, sticking to her flushed cheeks with sweat. She noticed Regulus’s state and turned to Remus.

“Bloody hell Remus,” she said, accusatorily, “You’ve just gone and cocked the poor boy up. He looks just about dead.”

“Thanks,” murmured Regulus from the cot. 

Remus put a hand on Lily’s shoulder.

“Lily, sweets,” he said, “They brought him to me like this. I’m just following orders from King James.”

“Right,” Lily set down her supplies and kneeled in front of Regulus. She smelled like book paper and iodine, “Always following orders, you. Mind telling me where you got this one?”

“Wiltshire, apparently.”

Lily accessed Regulus, took in his head wound and his old party clothes. “He looks like an aristocrat.”

“He’s a Black.” Regulus detected a hint of neuroticism in Remus’s tone. 

He liked it. It made him feel dangerous again. Regulus straightened his shoulders.

“Mh. Interesting.” Lily waved her hand at Remus, shooing him, “I’ve got him for now. Go see if Mary’s got something for him to eat, yeah?”

Remus excused himself, closed the door and left Regulus alone with Lily. 

“Boys are brutes sometimes,” she said, biting through the silence,“Mind if I patch you up?”

Regulus was still. He visually searched Lily’s bag for something sharp, with no avail. This girl was smart. Too smart to trick. Eventually he nodded. Lily pulled out a soaked cloth and began to clean Regulus’s head. 

“What’s your name?” she inquired, rather innocently.

“Regulus.”

“Regulus Black.” Lily repeated, dabbing at his temple, “Like the star.”

“Yes.”

“Hm. I’ve read a few books on astronomy,” she talked as she worked, her cadence smooth and practiced, “Regulus is in the constellation Leo. Sort of where the heart of the lion might be. It’s one of the brightest in the sky. Ever tried to look for it?”

Regulus considered this, the cost of his honesty.

 “No,” he lied.

“It often represents royalty and fortune for people born under it. But, practically speaking, it can also be used for navigating,” Lily laughed, “There’s actually another star name on this ship.”

This interested Regulus, but not enough to push it. He suddenly needed to ask James a question. Lily chattered on.

“You’re lucky he didn’t hit you hard enough to need stitches. That would have really been a mess,” she set down her supplies, “I can’t give you a bandage though, ’cause of your hair. Just try to keep it clean, yeah? No messing about.”

Regulus nodded. He raised his hand to feel the cut, but Lily stopped him.

“And no touching. In a dirty environment like this, it’ll get infected.” Lily started packing things away, “Anything else you need?”

“Why is the ship named after you?” Regulus studied her reaction closely for signs of untruth. But her returning smile was small and bashful.

“James is a very dear friend to me, that’s all.” she said.

“Dear enough to christen his ship with your name?”

“Oh, don’t get it confused, James loves Lady Lily more than he could ever love another human being, much less little ol’ me,” Lily stood, collected her bag and went to the door, “Remus should be back soon.”

Her casualty made Regulus suspicious, “You’re just going to leave me here?”

“Would you rather I babysit you?”

“No, but-”

“You’re not a prisoner,” Lily assured, “You’re free to roam the ship as you please. Just knock before you enter a room. If you have questions, you can ask me if you’d like. I’m usually below deck with Mary. But if you have a navigation issue, it’s better to go to Remus. He deals with that sort of thing.”

Regulus had nothing else to say. 

“It was nice meeting you, Regulus. Remus shouldn’t be much longer,” Lily said. She left, closing the door behind her. 

But Regulus did not wait for Remus. As soon as he heard Lily’s footsteps retreating around the corner, he raced for the deck.

The sky was pockmarked with a few clouds lingering from the morning, sending little patches of shadow over the deck. As Regulus emerged from below deck, he was met with a knife to his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?” said the knife’s wielder. Trying not to turn his head too much, Regulus met his attacker. Balanced on a barrel placed conveniently by the stairs was a waifish girl with painted eyes and wild blonde hair, plaited and parted and pinned up haphazardly around her freckled face. She wore a curious sneer and a collection of odd jewelry that jingled when she moved.

“I’m Regulus Arcturus Black,” he responded cooly, “And who you fuck might you be?”

“You’re the new posh boy we picked up in Dorset, she said, as if that explained everything about Regulus that she cared to know, “I’m Marlene, master gunner of the Lady Lily ,”

She pressed the knife a little harder. Regulus fought not to wince. Marlene cocked her head in an animal sort of way, “Messy Marls? The Slamfire Siren? Ring any bells?”

Regulus, not wishing to bring about his suicide, did not nod in any way. Marlene sniffed and removed the knife, but kept Regulus in her grasp, knotting a hand in his jacket. Her entire body was covered in ink, designs stretching all the way down to her fingernails and disappearing up her shorts. 

“Cute coat,” Marlene purred, “Looks expensive.”

“It is.”

“Want me to take it off your hands? It’s hot.” She squinted at the sun. 

“Is this your attempt at robbing me?”

“Pretty Boy, if I wanted to rob you, you’d be naked and tossed over the hull already.”

A familiar thought crept into Regulus’s brain, the same one that led him to Lady Lily.  

“Why not?” he said. Before he could regret it, he slipped off his coat and held it out to Marlene. The midnight wool was thick in his hands, “It’s yours, Messy Marls.”

Marlene’s tattooed fingers hesitated over the garment, “You sure?”

“Sure.”

“It gets cold at night.”

“I’ll be fine”

“Hellishly freezing, really.”

“Then you’ll be shivering,” Regulus nodded to her tank top, “Do you want it or not?”

Marlene took it from him and slung it around her shoulders. She looked a little more like a proper general now. 

“You better find something else to keep you warm,” she advised, “Better yet, someone.” 

“I need to find James.”

“Oh I bet he’d love to keep you warm.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Where could I find him?”

Marlene shrugged. “It’s afternoon, so probably at the helm. Try the captain’s quarters. Or the galley. He might be bugging lunch off of Mary.”

Regulus checked around the empty deck. Padfoot was notably absent. 

“Who is the man up the mast?” he asked suddenly, “In the basket.”

“That’s Peter. He’s an alright bloke. Keeps to himself.” Marlene used her knife to pick under her nails. Regulus noticed the hilt of the blade was of good quality, fashioned with an iron seal on the butt. Stolen, it was. Regulus recognized the seal, but decided to sit on the information. He poked at Marlene with another question.
“What does he do?”
“Keeps lookout for other ships. Adjusts shit. Beats me. I just blow things up.”

“And Padfoot?”

Marlene gave him a look that suggested she wanted to say something derogatory. Instead, she only shrugged once more in her odd, one-shouldered way.

“He’s first mate,” she said, “James’s right hand man. I actually wouldn’t be surprised if he was keeping James warm.” 

Regulus scowled. Marlene continued.

“He’s a great guy, but he can be tough. And he doesn’t seem to like you all that much considering he bashed in your noggin,” Marlene jabbed a finger into Regulus’s hair, “Might want to stay away, for now.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

But Regulus was already striding to the helm, leaving Marlene with her new present.

Regulus found James at the helm, hands in a death grip on the wheel, his red captain’s coat fluttering slightly in the breeze. He peered through his glasses as if trying to decipher a puzzle in the clouds.

“James.” 

Regulus’s presence seemed to snap him out of his stupor. James’s face transformed into the brilliant mask it was before.

“Regulus,” he actually sounded joyous to see him, “What can I do for you?”

“What did Peter mean when he said ‘another Black boy’?” Regulus’s tone was unhurried, but stern. James’s expression fell.

“That’s not really my story to tell,” he conceded.

“Not your story?”

“You’d have to talk to Padfoot.”

“Who was the other Black? Who else did you bring here?” Regulus demanded, his voice rising.

“Just you,” James turned to face Regulus, casual and unmoored, “Can we talk about this inside?”

Reluctantly, Regulus agreed. James took him to the captain’s quarters.

Regulus expected a level of extravagance for the captain of an esteemed and seemingly very successful pirating ship, but he was greeted with only modest bunkings and a small desk covered with papers and glasses and abandoned projects. James sat down at the desk. He gestured for Regulus to sit also. 

Regulus remained standing, folding his arms over his chest.

“How much did Remus tell you?” James started.

“Nothing. He left to find food.”

“Well, that’s not very welcoming. I’ll have to have a talk with him about that,” James started to remove his captain’s coat. He nodded to Regulus’s thin shirt.

“You lost your coat,” he commented, rather obviously.

“I gave it to Marlene.”

“You met Marlene?” James was stunned, “And you survived unscathed? She’s normally quite hostile to newcomers.”

“She seemed pleasant.” 

This was true. Marlene actually reminded Regulus of Evan, with her bared teeth and rough humor. Regulus had also noted a rolled smoke tucked behind her ear, an accessory Evan would have approved of. He smiled at the thought.

James, in turn, took Regulus’s lessening aggression as a good sign.

“Here,” said James. He stood and began to ruffle through drawers, “Your clothes now are fine, but they won’t survive the salt and the wind.” 

He produced a pair of thick pants and a shirt. Regulus took them without complaint, “They’re a bit naff, but they should last you.”

“James.” Regulus said seriously.

James stopped shuffling around.

Regulus set the clothes down on a chair, “I want answers, not a uniform. Why did you kidnap me?”

James flopped into the desk chair. His forehead was creased with exhaustion or anxiety or both. He was hesitant, almost to the point of skepticism.  

“Listen Regulus,” he began, “I’m a pirate. I won’t lie to you. I make my living gunning down trader ships and selling the hauls. But when the waters get rough or Lily gets damaged, we have to dock, and what do you think I tell my crew?”

“Find some rich prats and bleed them dry,” Regulus finished, “I’m not stupid. I know what people like you do.”

 Regulus braced his hands on the desk and leaned in, “I want to know why you specifically sought me out.”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re as posh as they get.” James was joking, stalling.

“Not good enough, James. You didn’t even pick me up close to shore. You went out of your way to find me. Why.” Not a question, but a demand.   

Silence. Regulus slammed his hand on the desk, sending a shock through the mess of papers.

“Why, James? Why me?” Regulus’s patience ran thin. His face was hot with blood, his heart pumped with bitter anger. James’s sad eyes and open face only served to enrage him further. 

Regulus had lied. He didn’t just want answers. He wanted to be back at Evan's, sleeping off a hangover, listening to Barty’s terrible music and watching Pandora braid her hair in the morning. He wanted to be woken up by Dorcas and rushed to breakfast, picking nauseously at eggs he wouldn’t finish and staring enviously at Evan’s cigarettes. He wanted a bath and smoke and to be left alone for a little while. 

Despite all this, a smaller, more twisted part of him wanted to stay, wanted to know everything about Lady Lily and her people so when he got home, he could get some proper fucking revenge. 

“Because I thought you were handsome.”

Regulus wasn’t sure he heard James right. 

“What?”

James looked up. Dark eyes met light. No longer was James sad or guilty. His features were non combative, his cheery demeanor suppressed. 

He repeated himself.

“Because I thought you were handsome. Padfoot suggested the snag and showed me your picture. That’s why I agreed in the first place,” James shrugged his captain’s coat back on. He strode to Regulus, his gait once again bouncy and confident. He was a bit taller than Regulus and forced his perspective downward. 

“Is that a sufficient explanation?” James quirked an eyebrow, dared Regulus to challenge his confession.

“What am I supposed to do here?” Regulus’s voice is barely a whisper.

James’s answer was even quieter, delivered as he walked back out on deck.

“Stay,” he said, “Please.”