Chapter 76: The Little King
Regulus and Kreacher made small talk with Walburga's portrait for a few more minutes, fortunately not about Bella and Rod's future children. Regulus couldn't help but picture them teaching the youngsters to torture Muggles rather than...something productive such as playing chess. Thankfully the conversation with Walburga focused on more sane matters such as Regulus reclaiming the family home from the hands of blood traitors. When he and Kreacher excused themselves, they promised to visit again soon. Kreacher reverently replaced the sleeping charm on her curtains before turning to Regulus. "Perhaps it is best that Mistress is always allowed to sleep when we are not visiting, so that she will not be disturbed by anything," he said.
Regulus nodded. "Indeed. Explaining our relationship to Mum would've likely been trying at best, but a limited portrait version of her certainly wouldn't know what to make of us...as we are."
"Quite so," Kreacher said with a relieved nod. "And with her peacefully slumbering, Kreacher and Master Regulus will not have to hide their relationship in their own home. Shall Kreacher make the cookies now?"
"Yes," Regulus agreed. "Would you like me to help?"
For a moment, Regulus thought he saw a look of mild horror cross Kreacher's face, but he could not be certain, because an instant later Kreacher was smiling. "Kreacher thinks it would be better if Master Regulus takes himself up to the attic to find that old mirror while Kreacher cooks."
Regulus chuckled, bending to kiss the elf's cheek. "I am feeling distinctly unwanted," he teased. "Very well then, I shall go and find the mirror."
Kreacher reached out for Regulus's sleeve, catching his hand and lifting it to his lips. "Master Regulus is never unwanted," he murmured.
Regulus shivered with pleasure at the tantalizing feel of Kreacher's warm breath and feather light lips tracing his skin. "I know. But if you make me feel too wanted, I may not make it up to the attic," he said quite honestly, and he felt Kreacher smile against his fingers before the elf reluctantly released his hand with a final kiss. "Wise Master Regulus," he murmured.
Turning back to the stairs, Regulus vaulted up them with vampiric speed. He paused at the second floor landing to call out to Mortis where he was still in the bedchamber. "Mortis! Come and keep me company in the attic, won't you? Whatever you're looking at out the window can't be more interesting than whatever oddities we have up there." Regulus heard a rush of wings before the black bird coasted into sight. "Thank you," he said as Mortis landed on his shoulder. "I know I shall enjoy the company. Searching the attic would be so dull otherwise." Mortis trilled, the sound ending in a questioning tone as he sent the image of Kreacher into Regulus's mind as if asking why the elf wasn't keeping him company. "He's making cookies for Doge and Bellatrix," he explained.
/And Mortis,/ the bird sent eagerly into Regulus's mind, making him chuckle.
"I'm sure Kreacher will give you one if you ask. He seems to enjoy feeding you." The black phoenix gave a pleased nod of his head as Regulus crossed the landing to continue up the last flight of stairs to the attic. The attic was dark and so full of dust that Mortis sneezed several times as soon as Regulus opened the door. One sneeze was so violent that the bird nearly toppled from Regulus's shoulder and he had to reach up a hand to steady him. "It is dreadful up here," Regulus said, drawing the lava rock and crystal wand from his pocket to cast a Lumos charm, then an enlargement charm on the lumos charm so that the attic was filled with bright light. He could see perfectly without it, but he wasn't sure that Mortis would enjoy the dark quite as much. "Kreacher hasn't had time to clean up here of late and before I returned I know he didn't have the will to." Gods but he'd done that to Kreacher, aging and depressing him with the blow of Regulus's unintentional abandonment. Waves of wretchedness washed over him at the re-realization and he felt his shoulders slumping under the weight of the sudden onslaught of misery. Gods but he was a living piece of garbage...Worthless and in truth far beyond redemption. He could never ever fix the pain he'd caused his beloved as well as everyone else around them. There was no...A sudden stab of pain on Regulus's right ear interrupted the torrent of self-effacing thoughts. Turning his head in surprised bafflement he regarded one of Mortis's glaring black eyes. The phoenix had nipped his ear with his raptors beak nearly hard enough to draw blood.
/Stop that! You are hurting your soul and this shall cause you to lose...Stop! If you do not listen, I will leave./ Mortis thrust the words into his mind, one at a time to drive his point home.
Ouch. Regulus did not want the phoenix to depart...did not wish to drive him away with whatever he was doing and unable to control. "I am sorry," he said softly, pressing his cheek into the bird's glossy black feathers.
/I wish you were,/ Mortis thought into his mind.
But even as he spoke, the death phoenix rested his head on Regulus's cheek. "I swear I shall try harder not to sink into the depths of my misery so much," Regulus vowed, reaching up a hand to gently stroke the bird's back. "I don't mean to, I swear it! I just get a thought and then I am plunged into a well of precisely how worthless I am."
/But this is not right,/ Mortis thought, turning his head to give Regulus a perplexed look, black eyes staring hard into Regulus's blue ones as if searching for something. /You are the Little King./
Regulus chuckled. "Granted I'm not as bulky as Sirius was, but I hardly think I'm little. Thin perhaps but I am tall enough. And a king hardly, though my mother always said the Blacks are basically wizarding royalty. With that in mind I do try to uphold my..."
/Little King,/ Mortis interrupted Regulus's words with slow deliberate thoughts. /This is what you are to the world. Not the largest king, but a smaller ruler. Not small in size, but small in...territory./ From the thought tone in which Mortis spoke, Regulus got the sense that the phoenix was being as accurate as he knew how while trying to bring across a point that perhaps did not translate into human words or concepts. Catching the thought, Mortis's dark head bobbed gratefully. /Yes! That is it./ After a moment of consideration, the phoenix continued. /The Little King of...fate, destiny, the pattern of threads that weave together what was and what will be./
"But he is dead! So what else is there to do? And it isn't as if I helped with that anyway," Regulus said with a frustrated sigh.
/There are other matters of import aside from a soulless man who nearly made himself into a demon before he was stopped,/ Mortis stated dryly. /There are more things to come./
"How reassuring," Regulus said, not feeling at all reassured. Rather he was feeling mildly trepidation and a lot confused.
/It shall not be all bad,/ Mortis assured.
"Great to know," Regulus said. "ur...Just exactly how much of it shall be bad, though?"
Mortis gave a light musical trill that almost sounded like laughter as he spread his wings slightly before closing them again. /I honestly do not know. I will learn as you do. The patterns have spoken of you for a very long time, though, and only recently did I understand just who you were./
"So that isn't why you came to me?"
Mortis shook his elegant black head. /No. I came to you for you./
For some reason this made Regulus feel all warm inside and he reached to stroke the bird's back again before glancing around the attic. "We'd better get to work searching out that mirror." He began carefully clambering around stacked boxes of old clothes and large pieces of heavy antique furniture. Whenever any of his ancestors had wanted to redecorate, rather than getting rid of old unwanted items, they merely stuffed them up here to be in his way now. "People from the past never consider the future they leave for individuals like myself," he grumbled to Mortis.
The bird flashed him a look that he could only describe as mildly unsettled. /Indeed,/ he thought into Regulus's mind.
"There it is," Regulus practically crowed in victory as his eye fell on a large blackened iron frame rife with ornate spirals and dizzying twists. He could not see the actual glass of the mirror, for it was behind a huge armoire, but he knew that was it. After climbing over three more boxes and lifting two out of the way, he was at last able to reach one corner of the frame. Moving carefully he was able to wiggle and wedge it from the heaps of family antiques. With a sigh of relief, he apparated back downstairs. "Kreacher! We found the mirror," he called, heading into the kitchen. "And as it turns out, I am a little king, though I have no idea what that means."
Kreacher turned away from the long stone table where two large pans of cookies rested, emitting heat and a delightful smell. At least Regulus was certain he would've found it to be delightful if he still enjoyed the smells of food. "Apparently Master Regulus had a more interesting time in the attic than Kreacher did in the kitchen," the elf said, giving him a curious look.
As Regulus did his best to convey what Mortis had shared with him, Kreacher placed the cookies on two crystal plates and wrapped each in silver cloth. "So do you have any theories, because I most certainly do not," Regulus concluded. "It's all rather odd and confusing, I must say."
Kreacher nodded. "That it is. Kreacher always knew his master Regulus was most special, but sadly he has no more idea of what to make of this than Master Regulus does," the elf admitted with a baffled shake of his head. Regulus was distracted by the flush in Kreacher's cheeks made by the heat of the kitchen.
/He is just as special, as you always knew,/ Mortis trilled.
/Your vampire maker saw as much and she is correct./
Regulus hastily translated and Kreacher gave a pleased smile. "If this makes Kreacher worthy of Master Regulus, he is pleased," the elf said, but Mortis did not seem to notice. The black phoenix's distracted gaze was fixed ahead of him as if seeing far far into somewhere that was not 12 Grimmauld place. "Let Kreacher see the mirror," Kreacher commanded, taking it from Regulus's hands. "It could do with a good cleaning before we present it to Elphias Doge." Regulus nodded, relieved that Kreacher had moved onto something that they actually understood. The little king business was more unsettling than pleasing, and he had no idea why. One should think his ego would be pleased, but in this case uncertainty and trepidation did not feel particularly pleasing. Cleaning the mirror to a high shine took Kreacher an entire five seconds. Returning it to Regulus, he picked up one of the wrapped plates of cookies. "Shall we go?" Regulus nodded, and Kreacher apparated them to Doge's.
[Author's note,
The name Regulus itself means "little king" in Latin, and in general, various cultures have referred to Regulus using terms like "king," "royal," "strong," "mighty," "great," etc. There is always meaning in a name.]