#remember life is short so grab these tasty treats while you are still alive! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

green-and-grey-kenaz · 3 years

Text

I Sleep with the Dirt by Fire Glow

Language: English

Chapter 1: Please pull me from the dark

Characters in Chapter: Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin (Briefly), Albus Dumbledore (Briefly)

Chapter Summary:

Regulus is returned to life after his body has been kept in stasis as an inferius. It takes some getting used to, being alive again. Sirius meanwhile is dealing with having to look after a somewhat wild brother and not being able to adopt Harry, like he promised.

Word Count: c. 5 900

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34049455/chapters/84695911

It was strange. Bright. Pain. Noise. Smells. Thoughts. Feels. Sights.

Food.

He lunged, grabbing the prey which shrieked, only getting shriller as teeth tore into it. He pulled his head back and tasted sweet iron. Something grabbed him, forced his jaw open. He snarled. He was hungry and this was his food. He had rightfully caught it.

There was more noise and he turned, glowering. He hated the noises that they made at him. He had a sense that once it might have meant something but now they were empty sounds. It was infuriating.

The one he did not want to eat was there. That one was skinny. Bones. Bones weren’t food. He could crunch them to get food, but the skinny one was still not food. He did not know when the concept of food had come. But the desire to kill the warm moving ones had become a painful urge to fix an emptiness within. Hunger. Skinny was not that though. There was more to the bony one. That was why it was not food.

The other one was tempting but it could stop him. He had tried.

It always knew. It was always prepared.

They made noises to each other as food was placed into his hand. It wasn’t fresh but he tore at it, snarling at anyone who got too close. Too soon, food was gone and he licked his fingers. They were tasty.

Bony was there, hand on his arm. He snarled and Bony flinched but made noises at him. Soft sounds that soothed and promised safety. Bony took something damp and pressed it against his face, rubbed it over his fingers. He liked the damp and wet. It was like a home in that dark, wet cave. The bony one continued to make the noises and gently shifted his limbs. It was a more comfortable position. The old one came and muttered words. He tried to shift and get at it but Bony was being gentle with him and captured his attention once more.

He did not know what he was doing here. He had known, back at the cave. Or perhaps it had not been a knowing – it was more like a state of being. There had been no knowing, just guarding. Devour any that touched the water. Wait. Constant waiting. Protect.

A part of him had something different. A part had been sleeping, almost too deep for dreams but that part had been more alive. There had been the vaguest sense of a series of sounds that had defined it. Memories that had created it.

He could not remember the memories now. They were like the fish that sometimes made their way to his deep waters and were devoured by their many hungry mouths. Flashing, briefly there and so powerfully sating. Then gone. The Bony one perhaps came from there. It came from somewhere deep within. That was why he didn’t eat it.

Bony looked at him, it gave an expression. The lips curled slightly at the ends and it helped him to lie down and pulled the soft warmth over him. It took his head and held it until boredom closed his eyes.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“No, Regulus.” Sirius said firmly as his brother held the raw, half eaten chicken breast in his hand, teeth bared and showing the remnants of his midnight snack.

This was not what Sirius needed. He didn’t need Regulus back. He ran his hand through his hair, guilt sparking in his stomach at that thought. No, he did need Regulus back. Just not with the caveat that he would have to fight off the magic that had kept his body frozen as a minion for Voldemort. Because that was a lot to deal with when you were fresh out of Azkaban. As was knowing that if it hadn’t been for Regulus’ soul somehow taking root deep inside him, if Dumbledore hadn't realised that… well his brother's body would still be in that cave. Dead and violated, twisted by Dark Magic. The thought was sickening.

Yet it was because of Regulus that he had been told he couldn’t take Harry into his home. Harry Potter, James’ son. Sirius' very own Godson, who he had sworn an oath to protect. A boy who was criminally neglected by his supposed guardians. Sirius had waited all this time to get Harry back in his life. He had told the boy he could move in with him. It wasn't fair that he had to look after a kid who should be grown and able to take care of himself.

Sirius resented Regulus for that. He resented that a lot when Regulus had never shown him any love or care back when they had lived together. It had always been ‘why can’t you just behave?’, ‘why must you hurt mother so?’, ‘can’t you just get it into your thick skull that we are better than everyone else and that it is our duty to rule?’. Well, Regulus didn’t look much better than anyone else with his half-eaten chicken breast clutched in one hand.

“Put it down. You’re going to be sick enough as it is.” Probably. Apparently inferii had pretty tough guts because Regulus had taken to eating a whole host of raw things (the healer had not been impressed to find that out). Unfortunately for his brother, the closer he got back to being counted amongst the living, the more raw meat did not agree with him.

Regulus shifted the chicken breast closer to his mouth, staring a challenge down at Sirius.

“No.” Sirius growled and Regulus froze. In that second, Sirius took the time to consider the situation. The pantry had been charmed closed. If Regulus had opened it, that had to mean he was getting his magic back which would not be ideal because Sirius didn’t need a magic wielding, zombie brother. He groaned, running a hand down his face and Regulus quickly took a bite of the chicken.

“Regulus!” Sirius roared and his brother jumped, dropping the chicken breast and quick as a flash, made for the door. Sirius swore and lunged after him, wrapping the smaller body and pinning his arms while his hands went to wrap around Regulus’ wrists. He might be skinny after his time in Azkaban but Regulus was still only seventeen (he’d be eighteen if counting the days – he died days before his birthday a voice whispered in his head) and apparently hadn’t been taking care of himself in the lead up to his death. He’d been all skin and bones when they dragged him out and the inferius voracious appetite was not doing much to put weight back on his frame.

The tiny body squirmed in his grasp, twisting his head and sinking his teeth into Sirius’ dressing gown.

“Stop that, Regulus.” Sirius was softer this time, trying to be more reassuring now the chicken was gone. While most people seemed fair game for eating, Sirius had yet to be bitten. Oh, Regulus threatened to and Sirius did not trust himself to sleep without a heavily warded door, but he’d had no more than panicked bites that stopped short of bruising his skin. He pulled Regulus over to a sink and with some effort managed to get warm water running. Forcing Regulus’ hands under, he glanced around for the soap as his brother started to relax.

“See, nothing wrong, Reggie.” He said soothingly, rubbing the lavender scented soap against his brother’s pale skin. He got a cloth to clean Regulus’ face likewise. His brother squirmed but did not resist.

“Just cleaning you up. You know, if you get hungry, you can come to me. Just knock on the door. I’ll make you something.” He told Regulus this every time but he had little way to tell if it went in. His brother made a noise though and leaned into him.

“Right, all cleaned up now. Not much point eating until you’ve got this out your system.” He said, turning Regulus and giving him a once over. He didn’t let Regulus wear anything with long sleeves, unless attended which just made his arms look like skinny sticks but it made moments like this easier. It didn’t look like Regulus had gotten anything on him.

“Kreacher!” Sirius called.

The House Elf appeared. Sirius knew he lived in a cupboard in the kitchen and he found it ever so infuriating that he didn’t help keep Regulus from eating raw meats. Unfortunately, Kreacher was rather dedicated to ‘the young master’, even if that meant letting him eat things he shouldn’t.

“Clean up the mess and then bring the sick basin into the Parlour. I’m staying up with Regulus until we know if this is going to pass through or not. And next time stop letting him eat raw meat.”

Regulus growled at Sirius for his tone, dark eyes narrowing and Sirius groaned.

“Please.” He added, trying to make his tone sweet because he could do with Regulus not waking up mother’s portrait, which was what he would do if in a strop. She only got agitated seeing Regulus in such a state and it didn’t help that Sirius was there either.

“Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black.” The House Elf grovelled, bowing low and Sirius bit back his retort and instead said through gritted teeth.

“Thank you. Kreacher.”

Regulus seemed to accept that as genuine because he smiled and let himself be guided out with minimum fuss. In fact, he looked rather over the moon to be taken into the Parlour where he took his customary seat as Sirius set the fire up and carefully made sure to place the fire protector so Regulus wouldn’t accidentally get too close.

Warmth was something that Regulus seemed drawn to. He loved the fire, he loved the sun, he loved being wrapped in warm hugs when before he’d always been hesitant about touch. It felt like someone else walking about in his brother’s skin. It was not a comfortable thought but Dumbledore insisted that Regulus would come back to his senses. They had to treat this like a flu that his body was fighting off.

His brother was curled up, small limbs all folded in close, and Sirius pulled a blanket over him. Regulus jumped and snarled before realising it was him and calming back down.

“Fire.” He said, giving a nod towards the flames.

“Yes, Reg, fire.” Sirius confirmed, sighing and settling down next to his brother, carding his hand through his hair. Regulus made a small humming noise which Sirius knew to mean he was pleased with himself. Speaking was… a challenge and at times, it could be especially frustrating. Some days, Regulus could manage to string together a sentence and others would be solely animalistic snarls.

Kreacher came in and placed the sick basin down. Regulus smiled at him and Sirius let his brother do whatever it was he did with Kreacher. There was no denying that there was something protective within Regulus when it came to Kreacher and Sirius wondered whether something had happened to Kreacher before Regulus had died. The old House Elf would let Regulus check him over with agitated hands before pulling him in tight for quite a while.

No one knew quiet what had happened and Kreacher was not elaborating. The only information that legimency had been able to glean from Regulus’ soul attached onto Sirius was where he had died. Snape, and Sirius still shivered to think on that, had impressed on them that whatever had happened, it was more important to Regulus than merely the place he had died. It was the one thing that bound him to this earthly plane and even in death, he kept shielded with occlumency.

Dumbledore had uncovered some things. They’d seen that unearthly green glow across the water of the cave and after he’d brought Regulus’ bound and writhing corpse… After Snape had helped coax Regulus’ soul back into it… Dumbledore had returned.

Sirius still remembered that note that Dumbledore had placed into his hand. Regulus’ curved and delicate hand writing. That would have been his last words on this earth. It had been chilling.

Voldemort had created a Horcrux and Regulus had intended to die destroying it. It was clear that he had found it but no one knew where the original was. Snape had confessed that although he and Regulus had shared a friendship, he had had no word about this from Regulus. Kreacher feigned ignorance and Sirius knew that was the case because he had caught Kreacher hurting himself after saying he knew nothing.

He had ordered Kreacher to tell him because he knew that Kreacher knew but that was the closest Regulus had come to hurting him. His brother had flown in, snarling rage, with clawing hands and hadn’t calmed for a week.

Sirius sighed and stared at Regulus, who was lying, eyes half closed as Kreacher now comforted him, singing him songs in Kreacher’s own language. Regulus didn’t sleep. Not since they’d brought him back. At most he dozed. Sometimes by the fire, more often when someone cradled him in warm sunlight. Sirius figured that Regulus felt he had been sleeping enough with fifteen years of being dead. That he might fear that his sleep would bring that again. Certainly rest seemed to bring out the inferius in him. Always a step back from whatever improvement he had built up.

Harry would be easier.

Harry deserved the love that Regulus was given. Dumbledore visited once a week to chat with Regulus – a kid who could barely speak at the moment. Even Snape visited, although he kept these visits to once a month due to the fact that strife seemed to upset Regulus, otherwise he would no doubt be a more frequent visitor. Remus, Merlin knew how, tolerated Regulus. The first few times, Regulus had gone for Remus’ throat and had to be stunned. Remus brought bribes of chocolate frogs and still, Regulus would sit between them once he had finished chasing his meal.

One day he had told Sirius ‘ ‘trayed you. Left you.’. Sirius had tried to explain that he had betrayed Remus, that it was him that hadn’t trusted. But Regulus had touched his chest and said one word. Hurt.

Regulus could tell that no matter what had happened, Sirius had felt betrayed by Remus. That one of his childhood friends had not fought for his freedom… it stung and it didn’t matter how irrational that was because to Regulus, it was real and if he didn’t sit there, protecting Sirius, Remus might hurt him.

Merlin, this was messed up.

“Bad.” Regulus said, stiffening, and Sirius grabbed the basin, handing it over to Regulus who retched into the bowl as Sirius rubbed his back in what he hoped were soothing circles. Kreacher vanished the sick between breaks in his brother’s throwing up.

“There you go. Better out. It’s OK.” He said, using his other hand to pull Regulus’ hair out of his face.

Harry wouldn’t eat raw meat and then need a guardian to look out for him. Sirius winced as Regulus threw up again, sounding rather painful as he shuddered, fingers clawing at the ceramic. At the very least Regulus might exhaust himself and doze. That would be nice. Some peace and not having to rely on paintings waking him up whenever Regulus decided to go on his walks.

Sirius yawned and Regulus paused from his heaving, looking up with dark, pain filled eyes.

They were his brother’s eyes. His little brother, who had died alone in a cave to try and bring down Voldemort. Regulus. The soft little idiot who thought he’d take on the world alone because he had no one else to turn to. Sirius hadn’t been there for him.

Regulus doubled over again and moaned in pain and Sirius returned to rubbing his head. Yes, he resented his brother for a lot of things. It had been a long time since Regulus had brought him joy but every time he looked into those eyes, he saw a kid he’d failed. Someone he should have been there for. Perhaps, the guilt would give way to love at some point.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Regulus snarled at the man who came in through the door. Sirius grabbed him and pulled him away, placing an arm out to stop him getting at the man.

“No, it’s alright Sirius. You said he had a turn last night. It’s fine.” The man… the wolf… said, reaching into his pockets with slow movements. He pulled something out, fiddling with it and suddenly Regulus found his focus forced to something moving fast. He dashed after it and it jumped away. Another pounce and he had it wrapped in his hands, feeling his prey wiggling, trying to get out. A quick crush and he broke it. Opening his hands, Regulus started to pick at its brown, sweet flesh, crushing it between his teeth. It was good. Tasty. Bits fell to the floor and he cleaned up those traces as well.

Good. He’d killed it.

Feeling more content with this, Regulus wandered through the house, trying to recall what had happened before. He had chased his prey but something important had happened before that. What was it?

Voices.

Ah, the wolf.

Regulus dashed to the warm room where the fire was merrily burning and Sirius sat with the wolf, his brother lounging across the sofa and the wolf, the betrayer of his brother, sat on a chair.

“Sirius said you’ve started to collect the cards.” The wolf said, looking up as he entered and stalked to sit in front of his brother. Sirius may have forgotten but Regulus remembered the pain his brother had felt when the wolf hadn’t saved him from whatever had happened. It would only be a matter of time before it happened again.

Regulus looked at the offered card but did not take it. Sirius shifted forward, plucked the card from the wolf’s hand and placed it in Regulus’ own, wrapping his fingers around it.

“You’ve been wanting this one, remember?” He said and Regulus stared at the picture.

“S… Slyth… Slytherin. Salazar.” He managed to get the words out, forcing his mouth and tongue to roll around the foreign sounds. There was a vague sense that this had once been easy, like breathing. He had a concept of breathing now. He remembered realising that he breathed.

“Yep! Rarer than the other Founders because no one wants him.” Sirius said, in a jolly tone. Regulus stared at it. He knew this one mattered to him. He knew that some days he could remember why he mattered. Grey eyes shifted to look up at the wolf.

“Trick.” He said.

“I watched him take the card out, it’s not a trick Reg.” Sirius said, rubbing his head. Regulus growled and glared at the two. He had no idea how the wolf could just waltz in and make Sirius forget the pain that he had caused.

“Regulus.” That was the stern voice. He barred his teeth at the tone then flinched as Sirius went to grab him.

“Sirius, it’s okay.” The wolf said hastily, producing another box.

“No, if he can’t play nice he shouldn’t get nice things.” Sirius said. The wolf hesitated with his bribes. Regulus hated that they talked about him as if he wasn’t here. He could understand them, their noises made his mind know. It was just hard to remember how to make the noises back.

“Sirius, you said other than the relapse, he’s doing better.” The wolf said before looking at him.

“Would you like another chocolate frog, Regulus?” He asked and his tone was nice. It was always nice and Regulus did not trust that. He did, however, like the frogs. He eyed the box up and licked his lips, thinking on how good its flesh would be.

“Please.”

The wolf hands over the frog, his prize, and Regulus clutched the box tight in his hands. It is his now and it feels good to own things. The desire to consume now falls away and he leaned against the sofa, staring. Sirius went back to talking but the words wash over him. There’s something unsettled in him, a poking feeling that makes his limbs feel restless. Something he should be doing.

Regulus gets up and follows the feeling.

It takes him to his room. There is a draw there with lines. He traces them. Line with three with three lines. Two hills. A curve and circle. Emergency. It is scrawled in a very slow and deliberate attempt to be neat.

He pulls the draw open and inside are boxes, unopened. A collection of frogs. Because sometimes he could plan for the future. That maybe one day he’d want a frog when he wasn’t being given one. That they were useful. Regulus placed the box inside with the rest, then on second thought he shifts it down to the bottom. Older ones on top. Cycle through.

He closes the draw and looks at the top of his desk.

On there sits a hairbrush, with a symbol engraved into its handle. Regulus traced the symbol.

It was a gift, from mother. His initials made into one image. He’d been ten when gifted it. The handle had been big in his hands and he knew its worth. Grabbing it, Regulus brought the brush through his hair, wincing as it tugged at knots. Sometimes Sirius held him down and ran a comb through his black hair. Sirius would try to be gentle. Regulus did not.

His scalp stung but his hair was fixed.

Investigating his desk, Regulus next found a vial. It smelt of woods on hot summer days. The smell pulled memories of walks with friends like Barty or Severus. It was comforting. A pot held a cream, near dried out but which moistened as his fingers touched it. Regulus sniffed his fingers. It was a gentle hint of night blooming jasmine. He’d chosen it because of that. One summer, they had stayed in Southern France and each evening meal had been punctuated by that smell. It reminded him of family and love. He rubbed the cream against his face, a familiar gesture. His fingers found their own and rubbed it into his skin which softened.

The smells of the wood went on the neck and wrists. He remembered that now.

A tub full of powdered silver used the brush to add flakes to his skin so he looked otherworldly and more than the peasants around him.

There was a ribbon. He used it to tie his hair back into a ponytail, leaving just enough loose to frame his face. That took too many goes until it was satisfactory but what stared out at him was a face that he might remember.

Regulus glanced down at his clothes. Attire.

Sirius dressed him in robes that cut off above his elbows, short at the legs and with a split. He knew his movement could be erratic. It was the outfit of a child.

His wardrobe was empty of suitable garb.

Regulus went into the room next to his. Sirius’. The one his brother did not sleep in but was so painfully his. Sometimes Regulus understood why it hurt. Mostly, though, he couldn’t remember. There, in the draws were proper robes. Long, rich and flowing. They smelt of mothballs and dust but it was still a better alternative. He pulled the robes on and they came up short. It made no sense because Sirius was taller than him. Older than him.

But it was more presentable.

Regulus made his way downstairs and back to the parlour. He breezed in and took a seat near the fire. It hurt to sit up straight. His body did not seem to like it but Regulus knew it was proper and expected of him. He didn’t know who expected it.

“Hey Reggie.” Sirius smiled.

“Siri.” He said with a nod. Even that took too much effort. How had this once been so easy?

“You look good.” Wolf smiled.

“Are… are those my old robes?”

Regulus glanced away.

“I hadn’t realised that old hag had kept them.”

“M.” Regulus glared at Sirius. “Mother.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Love.” Regulus said firmly.

“She never felt an ounce of love for us, Reg.” Sirius said, laughing callously. Regulus felt his muscles twitch.

“Sirius.” Wolf cautioned, leaning forwards and placing a hand on the arm of Sirius’ chair.

“What? It’s the truth.”

“You said they kept the room the same as you’ve left it.” Wolf said softly.

“Probably never noticed I left.” Sirius scoffed.

“Or they were waiting for you to come home.” Wolf pointed out gently.

“Fat chance.”

“Did.” Regulus said.

Sirius turned his attention back to him.

“Did they come by the Potters to collect me? Turn up at the Express to pick me up? Ever write me a letter? No, Reg, they didn’t. No one did.”

Regulus pulled his legs in closer, feeling eyes water but he couldn’t be weak. Not in front of the wolf.

“Time. Needed time. Then back.” He whispered. That’s what he’d been told. His brother would come back, he just needed space to realise that he still loved them, that nothing was as important as family. Days became weeks, weeks became months. He just needed more time. He’d come back, see his room kept just as it had been when he had left and would realise that they loved him.

“Sirius-” The wolf said, reaching for Regulus’ brother but he pushed the man’s hands away.

“No! They didn’t care!” Sirius said, his voice shaking and Regulus realised he had zoned out for some of the conversation between the two. He also remembered that the wolf was called Remus.

“I’m not saying that the way they treated you was okay, Sirius. It was wrong and it was good that you got out of it when you did because it was destroying you. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t care. That’s what makes it harder.”

“No one could love their child and put them through that. They didn’t love me. They couldn’t have.”

“I did.” Regulus said softly. Sirius glanced up and ran a hand down his face.

“You didn’t put me through anything, Reg. You were the only thing that made home bearable.” It was a comforting lie and Regulus shook his head.

“I was with mother and father.” He said, his words slow as each rolled around his mouth. “I did not help you.”

“That’s because you were soft enough to believe our parents. You were soft.” Sirius said. Regulus shook his head and stared at his arm.

“I joined.” He pointed out.

“Because they forced you.” Sirius insisted.

“I thought ‘twas right.” Regulus said quietly.

“They brainwashed you.”

Regulus shrugged. Sirius wasn’t convinced but at least he wasn’t fighting.

“I didn’t help you.” He repeated.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Sirius stared at the cold, blank eyes staring up at him.

“James… Lily.” He whispered, hands trembling as they reached forwards, hesitant to cradle the corpses of his friends. As he reached out, he realised his hands were uncomfortably warm. Glancing down, he saw them dripping red. His friends’ skin tore open, pouring blood. He had done this. He was drowning in their blood and the world around him got dark. His heart quickened as a cold touch grabbed his heart and tightened. Slimy hands wrapped around his throat, his legs, his arms. A rattling death gasp and he was falling deeper and deeper.

Sirius screamed, starting awake, thrashing underneath duvet covers as his door banged as if it were about to be smashed in.

He swore and grabbed his wand, unlocking the door and Regulus flew in, snarling at the darkness in the corners of his room and hovering protectively over him.

Sirius’ heart was pounding and his body trembling and he did not have time for Regulus not being OK. He did not want a snarling brother trying to bite his nightmares.

“Reggie, it’s okay. Just a nightmare. Nothing’s attacking me.” Sirius gasped out, trying to place a hand on his brother’s arm to try and comfort him. He did not need a jumpy inferius. Regulus jumped, then glanced around.

“Dream?” He asked. His voice sounded young, uncertain of how to pronounce different words.

“Bad dream.” Sirius confirmed, rubbing Regulus’ arm. His brother calmed down a lot faster than he did and then dashed off to do Merlin knew what. Probably whatever inferii did when everyone else was supposed to be sleeping.

Sirius fell back against the bed. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes but Blacks did not cry. Not the women, not the children, not the men. But if a Black cried and no one was there to see, did they really cry?

Sirius covered his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. He was fine. The dementors weren’t here. It was Peter who had killed James and Lily. Dumbledore had gotten him a pardon for that. The world now knew he was innocent. He would never get sent back th-

Something dropped on his stomach and Sirius let out a blood curdling scream, flinging his arm away from his face to stare up into the shocked face of Regulus.

“Wha?” He asked, glancing down, terrified to find out what Regulus might consider an appropriate midnight gift.

It was a chocolate frog.

Still in its wrapping.

Regulus nudged it towards Sirius with a hesitant smile.

“Thanks.” Sirius said softly. Regulus openly grinned back and dashed over to a chair, watching him. Sirius sighed and took the offered gift, opening it up and carefully grabbing the frog before it could jump. He saw Regulus start, ready to hunt, but control the urge. Remus always said chocolate was the best cure for dementors. It was sweet and creamy and thawed out some part of his chest.

“You saved this?” Sirius asked in sudden realisation. Regulus frowned then gave a nod.

“I can’t kill the nightmares.” He said in his slow and carefully thought out way. “Chocolate might. I think I read it once.”

“Yeah. It does.” Sirius gave a small smile. This was progress. Maybe soon they could have Harry here safely.

“What dream?” Regulus asked, words slipping in perhaps an excitement at being able to keep a conversation going.

Sirius shook his head. He was not going back there. Not at all.

“I can’t… Were you asleep?” He decided, trying to turn the conversation to something he might manage. Regulus frowned and Sirius noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. He hadn’t realised before. They must have slowly built up as Regulus’ body became more and more alive. The frown had made his eyes look sunken in and not too unlike the face Sirius still saw in the mirror.

“Can’t.” Regulus agreed and he went to sit on Sirius’ bed, head hanging down.

“Hey, it’s OK. No one expects you to get back to normal immediately.” Sirius said softly, shifting to pull his brother into a hug. Regulus fell against him. Warm. Alive. Sirius could feel his heartbeat against his side. It was strong.

“Do you need food?” Sirius asked. Regulus shook his head. Well, at least that was something.

“Want you safe.”

Sirius sighed.

“Well, since neither of us are sleeping, why don’t we go into the parlour?” He suggested, throwing off the bed covers and grabbing his dressing gown and wand. On second thought, he also picked up his bottle of firewhisky that rested on his bed side table. It was depressingly low and Sirius hadn’t yet plucked up the courage to do his own shopping. There was only so often he could ask Moony to pick up booze, even when spaced out between what remained of father’s cabinet.

Maybe mother’s cabinet. She’d outlived him and Reg by years.

He hated thinking that he might be using anything she owned.

Regulus followed him on deadly silent feet. It was unnerving. Sirius always felt that Regulus was just about to pounce. They managed to get through to the parlour with no murders and Regulus took his customary place by the fire, waiting expectantly. Sirius muttered the incantation and the fire flickered to life. He took a swig of whisky and offered it to Regulus, who did likewise, coughing.

“Missed whisky.” Regulus commented as he handed the bottle back to Sirius. Sirius gave a bark of laughter.

“When did you have time to miss whisky?”

Regulus frowned and cocked his head.

“Don’t know. Last week?”

“Well, that’s a good sign that you’re becoming yourself again, Reggie. What’s a Black without a love of alcohol?”

His brother hummed and Sirius handed the bottle back to his brother who took another gulp.

“Can… Can I ask?” His voice shook and Sirius took the bottle back. He was going to need it.

“About what?”

“Mother?”

“Died five years after I was sent to prison. Guards let me know. They thought there was something hilarious about me being left this house.”

Regulus sniffed.

“Bellatrix?”

“Captured and put into Azkaban not long after they got me.”

“Narcissa?”

“Uh… you remember she married Malfoy, right? Were you around for her pregnancy? Ok, well, she’s got a baby boy. Same year as Harry.”

Regulus nodded, thoughtful.

“Evan?”

“Rosier? Dead.”

“Barty?”

“Did you know about him? That he was a Death Eater?”

Regulus went silent. Sirius sighed.

“Look, I know he was a good friend of yours at school.”

“New brother.” Regulus said softly. “I… I wanted a brother that mother would approve of. You had James.”

“Did you know?” Sirius asked again, his blood running cold. He hadn’t thought about it but the two had been close. Barty had been a years younger than Reg and practically worshipped the ground beneath his feet. Slytherin cronyism, not that the Crouch family needed it, but they were Slytherins all the way. Bartemius Senior just sucked it up to the crowds and the ministry.

“I brought… Yes. I brought him into the fold.” Regulus’ voice was wobbling now.

“Merlin. Oh Reg!”

“Please tell me he’s okay.”

Regulus had been seventeen when he died and he sounded it. He’d been just a kid. Just like Barty when they dragged him into a cell. Sirius remembered the boy screaming for his mother until he went silent. He remembered thinking if Regulus had been caught before his mysterious death, that’s what he’d have been like. And when Barty had died, Sirius had wondered if Regulus would have lasted that long.

“I’m so sorry.” Sirius said, moving to wrap Regulus in a hug as his brother collapsed in on himself. A sudden ringing filled the air and Sirius just had time to cast a quick shielding charm as glass smashed around them. Regulus was crying openly and Sirius shifted his brother to rest against his shoulder.

“’S my fault.” Regulus whispered as Sirius wrapped his arm around his brother and used the other to wave his wand and restore the room.

“No, you aren’t responsible for others, Reg.” He whispered softly as he held his brother as he fell apart and they tried to put each other back together.

#fanfic #Harry Potter #regulus black #Sirius Black #Inferius Regulus

5 notes · View notes

casualcatte · 4 years

Text

RP Journal: 08/10/2020

Gods, it was good to finally get out and hunt again! Granted, I was bringing Edgard Beaumont with me that might prove to be a mixed blessing, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He /was/ a Knight Dragoon, after all, surely he’s got some fighting skill and ability to track things. How else does a dragonslayer slay dragons? Surely they don’t just laze around til one flies by them, that would be silly.

(( Courtesy cut for length. Also, sorry about the lack of screenshots, this was all during maintenance. ))

I had Edgard meet me out in Yanxia at noon and he arrived precisely on time, he even carried some rope and a quarterstaff, instead of his usual spear. We weren’t out to kill these birds, only subdue them for an artist in Kugane. He wants to paint them, then will release them back into the wilds. Live-capture hunts are always a bit more of a challenge, it would make a fine test to see what Edgard was worth in the field. After all, I have no doubt he can fight, he’s fought dragons, for pity’s sake! But taking a non-violent means to dealing with a problem? I think it would say volumes about who he is both as a person and a fighter.

I outlined my plan and he declared it sound, so we took ourselves out to the Glittering Basin where it was known for these bi-fangs to roam as their territory. Setting up a lookout point, it was just a matter of sighting the birds and seeing where they went to roost.

I don’t think I’d been this relaxed in a long time. The day was warm, and Edgard -- while still very much Edgard -- was good company. He listened, followed directions, didn’t try to put me behind him for protection, or treat me like I didn’t know what I was doing. He trusted me and I trusted him.

Gods be good, we needed that trust today. No hunt is ever flawless, there are always unexpected things that happen that you have to adjust to or you either lose your quarry or you get hurt. That’s just the nature of the beast. I absolutely wasn’t expecting these bi-fangs to be a mated pair, much less a mated pair with a clutch of eggs. I think I’ll make it a point to mention that to Tetsuyo when I return to the Bounty Call. Most hunters I know have a great respect for nature, granted, we weren’t killing the pair but it was still taking them away from hatchlings that might otherwise die without them and their protection.

Anyway, the hunt first. Edgard was probably the most serious I’ve seen him since I’ve known him; he was studious and attentive, asking questions about what to do or what to look for. He seemed genuinely interested in learning, so I did all I could to help him. It was here that he said he trusted me and for a moment I had to wonder why. What good will had I garnered with him to be someone he trusted with his life? I doubt it has anything to do with how skillful I am at evading his spurious advances.

Knowing what I know now, I found it easier to be, well, at ease around him. To even play and flirt with him, give him a taste of his own medicine. It was fun and we laughed; I’m almost convinced I nearly made him blush a couple of times, but that’s neither here nor there.

The hunt! Once we sighted the bi-fang pair, Edgard used his dragoon ability to jump us up to the cliff where the birds had made their roost. Naturally, I had to climb on Edgard’s back and he had to make a bunch of insinuations about it. Still he got us up to the roost in short order and that’s when we learned that we were facing two very angry parent bi-fang and their clutch of half a dozen chicks.

Thankfully, the chicks weren’t that grown, so they weren’t much of a threat. I used one of the Darkness arrows to blind the Papa Bird while Edgard kept Mama Bird busy until I could use one of my Net arrows. Edgard got scratched once, but didn’t seem any worse for wear for it. I’ll really have to thank that magitechnician for the arrows, they are the most clever thing I’ve seen in a long time. A pity I don’t remember his name, how will I ever have these made again once I run out? As it stands, I’m out of the Net arrows after this.

I was just about to use my second Net arrow on Papa when he came flailing at me blindly. That’s also when one of the chicks in the nest decided I was a tasty snack and /bit/ me on the ankle. It was enough to startle me that I dropped the arrow and that split-second distraction won me a wing to the face as Papa Bird sent me flying off the cliff.

I won’t lie and say there wasn’t a moment of panic, because there was, but I’d prepared for this eventuality. You fight aerial opponents, you’d best be prepared to take a long fall. Another of those magitek arrows deployed a light filament line that was stronger than any rope I’ve ever seen. I fired it into the cliffside and swung to safety, albeit the impact into the cliffside will leave me sore tomorrow. Even as I was dealing with my own plight, I saw Edgard get shoved off the cliffside as well by a headbutt from the Papa Bird. I know I didn’t have much time and that, for the moment, the dragoon seemed to have no way to save himself.

I gathered myself and ran back and forth along the cliff face to build momentum, then I swung out to catch him. Thank every God that he wasn’t wearing anything heavier than leather and chainmail. If he’d have been in drachenmail or full plate, we’d have been doomed. Or at least he would have. I don’t think I could have held him. We only had moments to rest there, however, as Papa Bird began diving toward us, enraged enough to want to eviscerate us.

This was the biggest moment of trust in this hunt. Edgard told me to let go of the rope and grab onto him. I knew he was about to /dragoon/ us out of there, but it was still a daunting proposition. Still, in for a penny in for a pound. It was either fall or die to the talons of the angry bi-fang. Falling seemed the least fatal of either option. I let go, still clutching to Edgard’s hand from where I’d caught him, I wrapped my other arm around his neck and squeezed my eyes shut. The way dragoon’s jump makes my stomach turn a flip, but it cleared us of the predatory swoop of the bi-fang and sent it sweeping past us.

Edgard landed us on the ground and looked to me for a new plan as Papa Bird rounded on us to attack again. I was out of Net arrows by this point and none of the other arrows I had would do the trick. So, I opted to go with an alchemical solution. I pulled a sleeping draught from my pouches and waited. I couldn’t afford to miss. And I waited.

Behind me, I could hear Edgard yelling my name. Was he worried? Frightened? No, not Edgard. I stood there, letting the bi-fang get closer and closer, I could see the wicked curve of its talons, eager to rip me to shreds. Closer still. I could feel the waves of … nerves?...emanating from Edgard. Still, I waited.

At the last possible moment, I threw the sleeping draught right in the beast’s face. It only took a matter of moments for it to clumsily land and fall over in a sleepy stupor. Edgard made his way over, unbidden with the rope to tie it up.

Hmph. He’d outshine me. Hunting has been my life for over twenty years, dragoon. You’re not going to outshine me at my own game.

Banter with him came easily now that I knew there was nothing to it. I teased him, I gave him as good as I got. There were moments I rendered him speechless or left him a stammering fool. I enjoyed every minute of it. Turning the tables on Edgard might become my new favorite pass-time.

While he finished binding the bi-fang, I tended to the wound on his shoulder. It wasn’t much more than a scrape, but it was best not to leave it to fester. He’d done well, all-in-all, so I couldn’t really discredit his efforts as a hunter. With a bit more seasoning, he could probably hold his own. I told him as much, though he only very begrudgingly accepted the compliment. Under any other circumstance, Edgard would preen and claim it as my undying love for him, but on the matter of his skill as a hunter and his contributions, he wouldn’t.

He was in my world now, I couldn’t tell if the thrill of the hunt sat well with him or not. Gods only know I enjoyed every minute of it. I even told Edgard he could soak in the hot spring with me, I’m sure he was convinced I’d hit my head somewhere along the line.

This was a really good way to end his time in Kugane. He goes on to Ishgard the day after tomorrow and said he expects to see me there soon. I’ve some things of my own to wrap up before I leave Kugane, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t threaten to bypass Ishgard altogether and just go straight to Tailfeather because he /expected/ me in Ishgard.

I tasked him with sending the Mama Bird back to the client via some magical aetheryte-like crystals we’d been given. Activate them on the birds and they would appear in cages where the client waited with payment, better than trying to haul them back by hand. Once done with that, Edgard planned to go back to Kugane and I headed to Yanxia to hire some locals to tend to the chicks until Mama and Papa come back.

All-in-all, it was a good night and a fun time. Sure, I have a few bumps and bruises, but I can’t name a hunt I’ve gone on and come out completely unscathed. I either get scratched up by brush and trees, injured by the beast, or /something/. It’s just part and parcel of the Hunt. It reminds me I’m /alive./

My friendship with Edgard, at least for my own part of it, feels as if a great weight has been taken off me and I don’t feel the need to be so guarded. He has no further motives than just having a moment’s distraction. Like me, he has issues of his own to deal with before he seriously considers anything with anyone, which I’m honestly glad to hear him say. Primarily that he /plans/ to deal with them. I could care less who he sleeps with.

It was a good day, it really was. I needed it after a week of indolence. It felt /so/ good to get back out there and do what I love. And the best part of it is that it’ll have garnered me enough reputation with the Veteran Centurio to get the information I need.

One step closer... Mentions @therpperson for Edgard Beaumont

#Journal: Rhythm of the Night #Aultena Sephimiri #FFXIV #FFXIV RP #FFXIV Roleplay #Balmung RP #Balmung Roleplay #Balmung Roleplayer #Crystal RP #Crystal Roleplay #Crystal Roleplayer #Character Journal #Edgard Beaumont #Friendship: Pathfinder

9 notes · View notes