Chapter Two: Woes of the Lord Black

Arcturus wondered if it would soon all come crashing down, his own pain and anger hidden behind a cold mask of iron will. He gazed out of Castle Black to the darkened forest that was comforting his heir, the stars bright in the inky veil of night.

The Lord Black made a striking figure as he stood, glaring over the domain of his forefathers. He was tall, proud in stature, unbent by age. His short black hair was streaked with silver, his face was free from the long beards most wizards his age grew with pride. His gray eyes hard, his hands clasped behind his back, the only sign of stress being the white knuckles of his clenched fingers.

Why he had ever let his son marry that evil shrew was beyond him. When the bitch came before him, pregnant out of wedlock and with a marriage contract in hand, he should have known the youngest daughter of the branch family was trouble.

The lady's mask was perfect and worn with practiced ease, yet as the years passed, slowly the twisted creature beneath it began to show. Honeyed lies and poison spewed from her mouth, she raved day and night of the family's superiority even though she was only a mediocre witch of little talent from a branch family.

A BRANCH family.

Walberga Black fanned the flames of hatred in everyone she came in contact with, she turned her sons against one another, and now she had finally driven her rebel son out of her home. Walburga Black was a bigoted, hateful, and arrogant bitch.

Now it was up to him to watch over the heir of Black, who was weeping, deep within their ancestral lands. His beautiful wife Melania walked up beside him and gave him a soft embrace, yet his gaze would not leave the shadows of the forest. Her hair was mostly gray at this point, the lines on her face deeper every year, yet her smile never ceased to warm his heart. Her gentle nature was a balm to his soul.

"You need to go comfort the boy. He believes the whole family is against him because of his mother's words. The marriage contract may have given Orion and Walburga full rights of raising the boys until they are of age, but Sirius was just cast out. He is your heir, and even they can not take that away from him, blasted from a mimicry of the family tree or not", his wife said tenderly. She knew Arcturus was a hard man, but he loved his family deeply. Seeing it fall apart was extremely painful for the Lord of Black.

"What did I do wrong? I gave my children and family the freedom to choose how they live their lives and yet they run towards our destruction!", Arcturus spat and shook his head.

"Our son is ruled by his mad wife who abuses their children. The branch family is so wrapped up in pure blood bigotry and the promise of glory they can't see that the dark lord they laud, kills any who stand in his way no matter their heritage!", the Black Patriarch could barely control his fury. His wife could do nothing but tighten her embrace of her husband.

"I made one foolish oath to Dorea and it haunts me to this day! It has damned the one thing I wished to protect with that same oath", the mask cracked as his anguish overwhelmed him. A single tear escaped his iron grip.

Long ago his family had almost been broken by a dark lord, because his father forced oaths of loyalty to the man with his powers as the Lord of the House. He was still at Hogwarts at the time and as the youngest son he was not yet forced to swear allegiance to the man. Then after one battle, the main line Blacks had been decimated, his father and elder brothers died because of their zealous following of the mad man Grindelwald.

As he took the title of the Lord of Black he swore by magic to never to take choice from his family, he would advise, argue, and share wisdom, but he would see the house of Black fall before he took away free will from his own family. He had unknowingly stripped himself of his power as the paterfamilias of Black and damned his family with the same fate he once fought so hard against.

He had even given the right of self governance to the branch family after his father's decisions had left them close to extinction aside from a few from his own generation. Little did he know that they had voluntarily sworn themselves to Grindelwald, fully buying into the ideology of magical superiority and the magical's right to rule all. They still owed him, as the Lord of Black, allegiance, but he had no say on their choices.

His son Orion had let him down time and time again, a man who never fought for anything and let the wind take him where it led. Now he was but a front to the mad plans of his wife and her own family's ambitions.

His goodwill had been scorned and his family had betrayed him. Yet Arcturus could do nothing. The branch family was close to taking control of the main line, or they would be if they truly could revoke Sirius's status as the heir of Black.

Sirius Orion Black, the prodigal son, the white sheep of the house of Black. His one hope was a boy who refused to bow, never would the child kneel. His heir was becoming a man, and he was proud of him.

Arcturus just had never been able to say it, until now. The marriage contract had been explicit, he could not interact, intervene, or generally be a grandfather to any child born of the union between Walburga and Orion.

Arcturus had argued, he had raged, he had threatened, he had begged his son not to fulfill the marriage contract. Yet Orion was smitten with his cousin, and his oath compelled him to let his family do as they wished.

He had nearly disowned the boy, but Arcturus could not do that to his son. It was with a heavy heart that he signed away ever being a grandfather to his grandchildren, all while Walberga smiled maliciously.

Yet now that Sirius had been cast out of the family, the evil witch had renounced her claim upon her first born, the contract was no longer binding. Arcturus as the head of house Black now had full custody of his heir. The bitch had forgotten that she did not yet hold the power of the head of house, and now she never would!

Sirius was his to cherish and build up into the leader and heir of Black! He just… didn't know how to approach the boy. Arcturus had never been an expressive man, and he had until now never been able to be a grandfather to the boy… He had no idea what he should do.

Arcturus made a mental quick check of the wards, noting that despite knowing his heir was within the ancient woods, he could not identify exactly where the boy was. Which shouldn't be possible…

The wards cast over Castle Black were as powerful as they were ancient. Fed by the crossings of three ley-lines and a whelming spring of magic, there were few places in all of the isles that were better protected.

Hogwarts boasted a truly disgusting crossing of seven such lay lines and was one of the few places in the world with more powerful wards. Though after many years of tampering headmasters who thought they knew better than the creators, that may no longer be the case.

As the Lord of Black, Arcturus could use the Lord's ring to locate the heir's ring anywhere within the ward lines, a handy ability for parenting and to ensure the safety of the heir. Yet at the moment he could not pinpoint the exact location of Sirius on the grounds. It shouldn't be possible.

He stiffened as he felt his heir's presence within the family lands suddenly vanish. Sirius probably left for the Potters.

"Go sleep", Arcturus gave his wife a kiss atop her head, "I will ask Sirius to live here and take up his duties as the heir of Black, soon we can show him all the love he always should have had".

Melania smiled up to her husband and nodded, though rolled her eyes at being sent to bed like a child. She knew he did it just to annoy her too, the cheeky bastard.

She was glad her husband would go to comfort their grandson and bring him home. She left Arcturus to prepare a meal for her grandson. Sirius had been in the forest for many hours now, a home cooked meal, something to warm him up would hopefully be appreciated. She could have asked the house elfs to do it, but a grandmother's love always somehow made the food taste that much better.

Arcturus left the window and turned to the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of emerald powder from the jar resting on the mantle, he threw it into the fire. The fire turned from orange to green as he said, "Potter Manor", and stepped into the verdant flames.

He found himself in the foyer of a darkened manor and absentmindedly vanished the soot that clung to his clothes as he looked around confused. The lobby was empty, the lights off. If Sirius had come here, all of the Potters would be awake to comfort the boy.

"Mipsy can help the Lord Black? The masters all be asleep", the quiet squeak of a house elf broke the silence.

"Has heir Black not come here?", Arcturus asked. A pit was beginning to form in his stomach. Something was wrong.

"No sirs. Mipsy thinks Heir Black not come to Potter Manor since last summer", the house elf replied.

"Please inform Charlus and my sister to be on the lookout for him, my daughter in law has finally had her way. Sirius was disowned and he has run away from home", Arcturus said as he turned back to the floo.

Usually he would never reveal family drama to an outsider, no need to give out blackmail. Yet Dorea was family and he was brothers in arms with Charlus and counted the Potter Lord as one of his closest friends. If he could not trust them, he could trust no one.

The house elf bowed and was gone with a soft pop. The fire once again flashed green and the Lord of Black stepped into it with a quiet, "Castle Black".

Arcturus quickly strode out from the fireplace, too contemplative to even consider the soot that billowed off his form. "Rickard", he said hastily as he made his way to his study. Castle Black's head elf popped into existence behind the worried lord with a bow.

"How can Rickard be of service to the Lord?", an ancient elf dressed in a clean black toga asked as he followed behind the long strides of his master.

"Find the heir of Black", Arcturus ordered. Rickard began to bow and disappeared with a pop. The sound of ripping space time and a soul wrenching shriek startled the Lord out of his thoughts and Arcturus turned to find his loyal servant bloodied and broken, spasming on the floor where he had just disappeared from.

Arcturus stood absolutely confounded, the scene a grizzly one. It took him a second until his wits returned. "Rickard!", the lord hastily began to cast diagnostic charms on his elf. The fae-kin's magic was in flux, his magical core had been damn near shattered by whatever he had just attempted. Arcturus couldn't even begin to guess what could have resulted in such huge magical backlash, not to mention how mangled the elderly elf's body was.

"An Dubhar!!", the aged elf croaked, "Dún Scáith! Tha an daingneach na shuidhe air mullach an Eilein Skye!". The pit in Arcturus' stomach had grown much larger. He quickly began casting a few stabilization spells, attempting to use his own magic to keep the elf's core from completely breaking apart.

"Rickard, I order you to stay with me! What happened? What language are you speaking?", Arcturus shouted as he desperately cast healing spells, the blood of the old elf pooled beneath his shattered body.

"Arcturus? Is everything-", Melania emerged from down the hall and gasped when she saw the scene. Her eyes wide at the spatter of gore around the battered form of the head of the Castle Black house elves.

"Tha Rickard air seann laghan a bhriseadh agus air eucoir a dhèanamh air fearann a dhìochuimhnich o chionn fhada", the old elf's breaths began to shallow.

"No Rickard, I order you to stay alive! Tell me where Sirius is!", Arcturus gave up on the spells and yelled at the quickly fading elf. Melania rushed to his side, her own wand speeding through every healing and preservation spell she knew.

"Tha an r-rionnag a tuath aice… B-banrigh nan G-gaisgeach. Banrigh n-na Sgàile", the damage was too much and despite Arcturus and Melania's best efforts, the aged elf's soul left its body. Arcturus slumped against the wall as Melania buried her face in his chest. The Lord of Black's eyes were wide in utter shock, terror, and confusion. What had just happened?

Where was Sirius?

End of Chapter Two

Author's Note:

I hate notes at the beginning of the chapter, as they should be an optional read and not get in the way of the story.

The language spoken by Rikard in his final moments is supposed to be something akin to Sylvan, if one enjoys DnD, Sylvan is the language of the Faewyld. In my DnD fantasy worlds as well as in this fanfic, Sylvan is the language of the Low-Fae, or those Fae-kin who do not have the standing to attend the courts of the High-Fae. In other words the language of the average Fae commoner, your average fairy, sprite, hag, etc.

The language I chose to represent Sylvan in this fic is Scott's Gaelic. I like its structure and alien feel to the modern English ear. Please do not take umbrage at the fact that these are Google translations, I have always sucked at learning a second tongue and adding a third is not on my to do list at the moment.

I also am under the impression that Gaelic was not introduced to the Scott's until the 10th century, well after when the Fae courts were banished from the world by the Roman invaders. I believe it is something of an enigma what the Pictish, the people group living in Scotland at the time of the Roman invasion, spoke as they did not write much down. This gives me a little leeway to mess around with languages they and the druids might have, so I would appreciate suggestions on what I could use in the future for any research the Blacks may have to partake in to retrieve their lost heir.

I own nothing but the storyline, I may recycle the ideas and themes into an actual book one day, who knows.

Stay frosty my friends.

An Dubhar- The Shadow.

Dún Scáith! Tha an daingneach na shuidhe air mullach an Eilein Skye!- Dun Scaith, the keep sits atop the isle Skye

Tha Rickard air seann laghan a bhriseadh agus air eucoir a dhèanamh air fearann a dhìochuimhnich o chionn fhada- Rickard has broken ancient laws and trespassed on lands long forgotten

Tha an r-rionnag a tuath aice… B-banrigh nan G-gaisgeach. Banrigh n-na Sgàile- She has the North Star. The Queen of Warriors. The Queen of the Shadows