weakest to an enemy
It wasn’t much longer after Remus left that Regulus finished with the rigging. He bothered Marlene for company, which she was glad to give in the form of duelling practice. Regulus followed her down to the gunner’s hull, a small shack crowded with gunpowder barrels and racks of scabbards. Marlene pulled several short swords from the rack and two sabres, using Regulus as her humble mule for the weapons.
Back on deck, Marlene eagerly laid out her treasures for Regulus to see.
“This one,” she said, prodding the blade with her toe, “is a cutlass. See how it thickens and curves near the point? That’s for hacking and slashing. The big top makes it hard to stab and you’ll probably kill yourself in the process with your bony little arms.”
“Hey!” protested Regulus.
“This bad boy,” Marlene snatched up another sword, longer and thinner, “is a sabre. It’s a little heavier, but better for matches against a nice lengthy blade.”
“Remus carries one of those.” Regulus added.
“Yes, but his is built along the wolfish line.” Marlene explained.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s all bark and no bite. The blade itself isn’t very sharp or strong. Built for defense.”
Regulus considered this as Marlene jammed one of the short swords into his hand.
“These are best for your lesson today,” she said, “Not so chunky as to be impractical, but nice and evenly weighted. You thrust with these ones,” Marlene demonstrated what she considered to be a proper thrust, stabbing into the air, “You thrust. It requires minimal skill, but it gets the job done, which is just what you need right now.”
“Are you two talking about cocks?”
Lily marched onto the deck, her skirt dragging across the planks. She noticed Marlene’s array of weapons and Regulus’s mildly horrified face, and snickered.
“No, you dirty bird,” said Marlene, “I’m teaching little Reg here to fight like a goddamn pirate.”
Lily observed Regulus like a fine piece of art; her eye critical, her mind sharp.
“Your arms are very small,” she commented.
“Childish, even.” Marlene agreed.
“Excuse me?” Regulus coughed.
“No matter,” decided Lily, taking up a short sword of her own, “I’m sick of the galley and in the mood for some senseless violence. Marls, mind if I join?”
“Twould be my honor, Lily sweets.” Marlene dramatically bowed.
Lily effortlessly pinned up her skirts and pointed at Regulus with her sword, “Stand across from me, five paces.”
Regulus, fearing his fate otherwise, did as he was told. He and Lily began to circle one another.
“Remus told me you’re quite good with the short sword,” Regulus said testily.
“I am,” Lily said with pride. The paces of her feet were quick and athletic, her pale, scratched up legs crossing over and over as she moved. She kept her shoulder aligned with the blade, her free hand guarding her face. Regulus tried to mimic her stance.
“Have you ever used a short sword?” She asked.
“A little.”
“Widen your legs,” she instructed, “Don’t choke up on the hilt too much. You lose control that way. Bring your grip down. Hold the sword with two hands, if you must.”
The sun’s rays radiated through the air. Lily’s hair was braided down her back today, a fire trail of red that swished across her back like a dragon’s tail, hypnotizing.
“Good,” praised Lily, low and soft, “Like Marlene said, this blade is for thrusting. That means short, strong attacks. You either jab from your waist out-”
Lily’s body cranked back and shot forward in a fluid rush of motion. Regulus barely leaped out of the path of her blade. Lily instantly recoiled and resumed her perfect stance.
“- like so,” she continued, “Or you can bring in the power from your arm, bringing the blade up in the air, with bent elbows-”
Lily charged again, cutting downwards. Regulus dodged.
“-and bringing back down in a succinct, powerful swipe,” Lily relaxed her posture, “Got that?”
Regulus huffed, “I think so.”
“You can’t think so. You have to know,” Lily said. She approached Regulus and manually shifted his hands on the blade for him, “In a fight, you don’t think. That’s the misconception about battle; that’s it’s all strategy. In reality, you must rely on instinct influenced by strategy.”
Regulus was mesmerized by her voice, by her strength.
“When you are being swung at with a big shiny hunk of metal, you do not stop and think. You stick out your sword and block the shot. Then you buy yourself a little time and counterstrike,” Lily met Regulus’s eyes and smiled, “Let’s try again. For real, this time.”
He and Lily practiced the basics; Lily first initiating the attacks and amending Regulus’s defense technique, to then letting Regulus play offense and blocking his shots. Occasionally, Marlene would jump in and try to surprise Regulus with a strike until eventually, he got better at anticipating when he would be weakest to an enemy. By the end of an hour, they were all panting and sweaty, but Regulus felt better than he had in days. He felt good, fit even, a Herculean energy coursing through him.
Marlene departed to return the blades to the gunner’s hull, jabbering about how they were her “babies” and couldn’t “be touched by mortal hands,” reluctantly giving in to Regulus’s request to keep one of the short swords for independent practice.
“Here,” offered Marlene drily, handing him a sword, “She ain’t pretty, but she’s a princess and you better treat her like one. If I see a single nick on that blade, Reg, I will literally kill you.”
Regulus swore to do his best.
Lily felt slightly guilty about leaving Mary alone to do the galley work and promptly went below decks as well, patting Regulus on the shoulder and congratulating him for a good first lesson. Despite himself, Regulus was pleased with Lily’s feedback.
On a last minute impulse, Regulus descended the stairs as well in hope of finding something to drink. Having abstained from last night’s dinner, his stomach roiled.
Regulus sauntered below decks and turned the hallway corner. He stopped dead, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him.
Not ten paces ahead was Remus. He was shoving another boy against the wall, his hands slow and deliberate, and kissing him. Kissing a boy with dark hair and a streak of irritation across the middle of his face.. Regulus watched as Remus tangled himself with this boy, Padfoot, with unhurried languor and pleasure. Regulus saw, for the first time, the curve of Padfoot’s jaw under Remus’s teeth, the slope of his nose pressed against Remus’s face, the high curve of his redded cheekbones in the low light of the hallway.
Regulus saw his brother.
Sirius Black, alive, in Remus’s arms.