Sun King

by Priory_orange

Summary:

Regulus Arcturus Black was born at 6AM, on June 25th, to Walburga and Orion black, in 1065 BC. A second son, born to a family with a long history of importance within Greece.

-OR-

Regulus is a mortal, and James is a god, but Regulus doesn't quite know that yet. Chaos ensues.

(Title taken from Sun king- The Beatles)

Chapter 1: The temple library

Notes:

Hiya,
so I really wanted to write a greek mythology AU, but It was getting really hard to figure out how to make like James potter the god sound natural yk?
So, you'll see what I've done to avoid that this time round, but I genuinely hope it sounds less stupid than the original version of this story that I posted.
To those 40 of you who read the original one, I am very sorry for deleting it, but I literally wanted to throw up looking at it so yk. But the plot for this one is basically just gonna be the same, as what I had planned for my original draft but a little less cringey hopefully.

Anyways, Enjoy!

XxPrioryxX

Regulus Arcturus Black was born at 6AM, on June 25th, to Walburga and Orion black, in 1065 BC. A second son, born to a family with a long history of importance within Greece. 

Officially, his family were tradesmen, making their rather lavish living selling goods off the Minoan coast, to the Roman and Persian empires. Unofficially, their business was in pirating.

Not to say that the blacks themselves would lower themselves so much as to go gallivanting across the high seas. Neither Orion nor Walburga had any interest in stepping foot on one of the boats that made them their fortune. No, rather they hired men to capture boats off grecian coasts, selling their goods on to interested parties.

It was a high stakes business, the penalty for such grand order theft required the loss of a hand or two at least, at most, a public execution. But the odds seemed to be in their favour, because they continued to reap a hefty profit from their trade. 

But safe to say it had not made them popular with the coastal community they were based in. A community which largely depended on the profits of the trade, Walburga and Orion Black were sucking dry like leeches. 

Officially, the townspeople hated the Black family. Unofficially, the Black family hated the townspeople too. 

The elders in the village, when they deigned to acknowledge their shadowy presence at the edge of town, often remarked that the family was marked by Nyx. Perhaps it was intended as a rather snide remark as to their darker methods of accruing wealth, but in practice it was not all that far off the mark.  What with their pitch black curls, star-white skin, and a dark aura that seemed to trail behind the lot of them like a hound. 

But Regulus' parents thought the elders' ravings, a sign of madness rather than piety. Of course they still dutifully hummed and nodded their heads, as they prophesised, and thankfully opened their wallets for emptying. But aside for public appearances, Regulus' mother and father preferred to pay homage to more tangible idols, their shines to Posiedon and Hermes rotting in a cupboard somewhere.

Regulus would not in fact even consider himself particularly pious towards the gods. He was not fanatical, nor did he wish to become a monk, but he would not be as blasphemous as his parents to suggest they did not exist. 

He had practically grown up in the temple if he was being honest with himself. Orion and Walburga's spectacularly poor attempt at parenting, often left him and his brother by their lonesome for long stretches of time. Sirius went the route of filling his time by visiting brothels in the city's west district, drinking and doing drugs until the late hours of the night. Regulus literally went in the complete opposite direction. 

The first time his parents left them alone, Sirius had suggested exploring. When they were home, they were almost fanatical about keeping their children inside the confines of their manor. Fearful beyond anything that their chance at a continued legacy would be squashed by a runaway cart, or kidnapped by a militia seeking recruits. So now, with their first taste at freedom, the two boys grasped it with both hands, and flung themselves into the hustle and bustle of the city. 

Sirius himself wanted to visit the markets, taste the food that their mother would not allow them to eat, see the craftsmen in their tents, see the sights his eyes had been forbidden from seeing. Regulus himself did not like the idea of the crowds that would surely come with a busy market street. So they decided to split up, and meet before the sun went down. Regulus found himself drawn to the quieter edge of the city. Most streets were alive with hustle and bustle, but regulus managed to find a corner of his home-town that was not seemingly jam packed with people. 

Regulus quickly figured out why. It was a temple street. These were usually abandoned on non-holy days. 

The smell of burning incense and flowers wafted through the corner. drawing regulus into the grand building that labelled itself a temple. 

It was not really a temple, it was a large open floor, with statues in lines with prayer mats and shrines at their feet. Closest to where he was standing, by the entrance, was a statue of Poseidon, with a collection of shells and offerings laying in the basket at its feet. A sweet smelling incense wafting from a beautifully crafted pot to its side. It was the deity his parents prayed to the most, however infrequently that in fact was. They prayed for calm seas for their boats, and for strong winds to carry them. Next to Poseidon was Apollo. The sun god. God of healing, and plague, music and prophecy. Truth and illumination. It was the deity the priests prayed to themselves, for clear vision into the future, and for divine oracle speech. 

Regulus wonders if he ever responded. 

'You interested in Apollo, boy?' A voice sounded from behind where he had begun kneeling. It was a temple elder. An old man, with sage green linen robes, with a white collar. Signifying his position of importance within the temple. 

'Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I was just looking. I can leave-' Regulus panicked, he worried that if the elder sent for the priest to punish him, that he would in turn call his parents back to minos. it was not an option, if they learned that Regulus had left the manor, who knows when he'd even be allowed to see out a window again. 

'You're not intruding boy. We don't get many visitors on non-holy days, so I appreciate the company.'

'oh okay.' Regulus turned back around to face the statue he had been kneeling at. Only to find an odd inscription, which he had not noticed before, carved into the base of the pedestal, in a language he could not read. 'What does this say?' Regulus said, quietly, as though speaking above a certain volume could bring the place down.

'It's written in ancient runes. I would be more than surprised if you could read it. Would you like to learn? We have a library in the back that's open to the public if you want.' 

'yes please.' Regulus said quietly, quickly standing up to follow the man behind a set of flimsy curtains. 

Regulus knew he probably should not be following strange men in strange places through strange doors. But something in him trusted the man, oddly enough. So he followed him through, only to find himself within the entrance of a massive library. Now, this place looked like a temple. A huge domed ceiling topped the enormous room off, carved with beautiful drawings and paintings, inscriptions and runes lining each empty space within the decorated ceiling. For as far as Regulus could see, there were books and books and books and books. Floor to ceiling shelves with ladders running past each for easy access. 

Now this was paradise. 

The older man must have noticed the look of wonder on his face, for he said 'cool huh?'

'yeah... cool. Who are you?' Regulus whispered, a tinge of awe lacing his voice. The man had become almost godlike in the young boy's eyes, simply for even having access to this paradise of literary knowledge. 

'I'm Elio. And you are?'

'I'm Regulus.'

'Very nice to meet you regulus, would you like to go look around?' Regulus nodded frantically, and before long he became completely enveloped within the temple library. 

****

Regulus spent the rest of the day with Elio, devouring book after book that was given to him. Some were on the odd runic language Elio had shown him earlier, others on natural science, astronomy, engineering. Whatever book was placed in front of him, Regulus simply absorbed the information, like a starving man in a well. 

He was rather distraught when he realised it was getting dark, and remembered his promise to Sirius earlier in the day. Elio, once again must have picked up on the young boy's emotion, 'You can come back any time you like, you know?'

'Wait really?' Regulus said in surprise. 'Seriously, why isn't this place jam packed, this is so cool.'

'Eh, people have lost faith in the new gods, and they have forgotten the names of the old. And really, libraries pale in importance to their coffers.'

Regulus being barely 8, did not really understand, but promised to come back, before running down the street to meet his brother before it became dark. 

****

Notes:

So that was Regulus' POV, but next chapter we meet some new characters.

I hope y'all enjoyed, and please feel free as always to critique in the comments

XxPrioryxX

Chapter 2: How the moon shines, dear

Summary:

Sirius did not like to be lonely.

He was loud, and vital, and by proxy so was his existence. Therefore when everything went quiet, the intensity of his being became suffocating. When there was no matter left to transfer it to, the fire of Sirius' force of life burnt him out. Crushed him to a powder, squashed him like a bug.

-OR-

Sirius is smitten, but he doesn't know it yet.

Notes:

Hello!

This chapter isn't really plot, it's just kind of introducing Sirius as a character and all that bullshit. Character development or whatever.
Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and sorry for the delay. School's been CRAZY.

XxPrioryxX

Sirius did not like to be lonely. 

He was loud, and vital, and by proxy so was his existence. Therefore when everything went quiet, the intensity of his being became suffocating. When there was no matter left to transfer it to, the fire of Sirius' force of life burnt him out. Crushed him to a powder, squashed him like a bug. 

He often times felt like a star, a ball of energy, burning faster than it can regenerate. Hoping, ever-praying, for a solitary meteor or wayward traveller to share the heat. Perhaps in another life he would have been one. He could have justified the force of his flames with his god-given purpose, there they could be useful. In this life, they were a burden. 

Maybe he should have gotten used to being alone, by now he should have been an expert. Walburga and Orion black did not frequent their family home often, and when they did, their visits were sparsely interspersed with time with their two children. 

But no matter how many times he woke up to an empty house, no matter how many times he found himself desperately and existentially alone, it never got easier. His brain simply filled the gap where people are supposed to be. His heat takes the shape of burning infernos of thoughts, ravaging the insides of his mind like a blazing brazier. He still had not found a way to bear it. 

**** (12 years after the events of chapter 1)

It was night-time when he found himself alone again. 

The night of his 21st birthday, he had hoped his parents would return from their travels to celebrate. Or to see him or to do something that parents are supposed to do on momentous occasions such as their child coming of age. Sirius wouldn't know, his parents weren't exactly... parents.

The two brothers saw them both once every couple of months for an informal dinner, where they would simply inform them where they were whisking off to next on their search for fortune. If that really. Usually they stopped by simply to remind them of their expectations of their children. Carry on the family legacy, and do not disgrace the family name. 

They did not go out of their way to visit for birthdays, or temple holidays, or the new year. In fact they did not really go out of their way to visit at all, only stopping by if they happened to be in town. 

Therefore Sirius was not surprised when his parents did not come. He was not surprised, but perhaps, somewhat foolishly, he had thought this time might be different. But he was not surprised to find out that indeed it was not. 

There was no letter of congratulations, no note to tell him they remembered the occasion, or even his existence at all. Sirius knew it was petty, and silly in the grand scheme of his parent's fuck ups, to complain about this one the most. But perhaps, perhaps he had hoped. 

So in the mood of carrying on traditions, Sirius went out. And simply to spite his parents, he had the best time he had had in a while. 

He drank, and he smoked, and he fucked, and he laughed. He danced in a mead-house he had no business being in and he loved every second of it. if his parents refused to be there to see him, he would make himself disgraceful for them to see. 

It was only after when he found himself solitary again. 

His night had been filled with people, noise and music, so when he stepped out into the quiet night air, the utter silence was deafening. His mind quickly conjuring images and thoughts to fill the space. 

Sirius recoiled, itching to return to the tavern where he knew his mind would be quieted at least until morning came. But he felt himself sway on his feet, and knew he was reaching his limit, and so made his way back to the hell he called his family home. 

He quickly fell into a daze, trusting his well-worn feet to trod the well-known path back up the hill to the compound. But perhaps he should not have trusted his feet in this state, as when he snapped out of his trance he found himself in a field. An open expanse of green.

'Where the fuck am I?'

His mind quickly supplied the answer. it was the glade, he and reggie used to play in as a child. Puny compared to the unending forests of Crete, or the untamed gardens of Rhodes. But it was close enough to run to when their parents got scary, and it was theirs. The entrance was hidden by weeds and bird-eaten fruit, so no-one not even the garden staff knew the place existed. 

It was a safe haven, a secret garden where they could plot their schemes, or their latest plan to run away. Sirius misses those times. 

To give the place credit it was still as beautiful as he remembered it being as a child. The grass glowed iridescent, and the trees seemed to whisper poetry to him as he rocked on his feet. He figured it couldn't harm to stay a while. 

**** 

Sirius woke, what must have been an hour or two later. 

It was much later into the night than when he walked into the glade, and by his very unreliable calculations, it must have been around 2 in the morning. 

By this time the moon was shining high in the sky. A silver smile sewn into the fabric of the universe. 

Sirius, still rather drunk from his excursion, thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

How could something this ethereal be let loose on this world of heathens. he thought. He had just spent a night around Greece's most debauched and depraved. He had sullied himself in the mud of the mortal world and now...

Now he is welcome to this? it felt wrong. Almost as if it should be behind a lace curtain, hidden in the alcoves of a private museum collection. Where only the world's most wealthy could pay to see it. 

But here he was, a heathen, a menace, an unbeliever. getting unfettered access to the majesty that was the moon in waning crescent. 

It was hard to describe why, in particular he found this celestial body so radiant. The sun shone brighter, the stars had more history. 

But the moon... it's light was not harsh, it was bright enough to read a book by, or to navigate the world, but not so bright as to make you squint or wish for shade. it's flames were cool, it gave without punishment. There was no catch to the moon's ethereal light. No burn, or imprinted glare. Just cool bright white light, and Sirius could still feel it on his skin, as he closed his eyes, and let himself sway in time with the universe. 

****

 

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed,

Please feel free to leave criticism or comments, I'm shit at this stuff, so I appreciate knowing what I can improve on.
XxprioryxX

Chapter 3: Like the earth turns

Summary:

His parents, in all their supposed ingenuity, still thought he and Sirius had never left the house. They were stupid.

This time, however, Regulus did not wait. He was itching to leave, go somewhere, and figured that it was safe enough since his parents' last visit was only 3 weeks ago. And they never made them this frequent.

Mistake.

-OR-

Regulus is confronted by his parents. Also some fluff between him and Elio.

Notes:

Hello!

I wanted this chapter to be longer, but whenever I write for too long I tend to kind of get lost, so I'm splitting up what I had originally intended to be this chapter into two.

Anyways ENJOY!

XxPrioryxX

**** (12th of November, 9 days after the events in chapter 2)

Regulus visited the temple almost everyday for the next 9 years. Only on the rare occasion that his parents happened to stop by on an inquisitorial visit, did he miss a day. But even then, he made sure to spend an extra hour or two there, to make up for it. 

He learned quickly, and he read even quicker. He quickly became fluent in French, German, English, and the odd dialects from around Greece. As well as in that strange runic language, he had discovered his first day here. 

He learned natural science, he mastered mathematics, and even begun to work on proofs of his own. He was Elio's star pupil, and he loved it. 

It was a cold day in November when Elio made his proposition.

'You really should think about going to university you know kid?' They had been studying recent developments in water-powered machinery, it was fascinating. 

'I've talked about this already, I've been homeschooled my whole life, no reputable institution is going to want to take a homeschooled kid as a student. I have no qualifications, nothing. Plus, you know my parents would never stand for it. They want me to take over the family business. I don't need university for that.'

'Kid, you are one of the brightest students I've ever taught, one of the smartest people I've ever met even. If any university in this town, heck this country does not bow at your feet to take you, I'll bight off my own thumb.'

Regulus just chuckled. 'And what, you have other students as a reference for this? Elio, this place is a wasteland, I don't think I have seen another person here since I started coming.'

'Hey! We gathered quite the crowd on yule.'

'Yeah, that's because I think the council would have their heads if they didn't go.'

'True. But still, think about it okay? Talent like yourself, that's more important than any family legacy.'

'Yeah, sure. Try tell that to my parents.'

**** (later that same day)

Regulus should have been more careful. 

usually, he left to go to the temple at around midday. His parents, if they happened to stop by, always came mid-morning, signalled by their parade of horses and carts. That way, he always knew if they were coming, and knew if it was safe enough to leave the compound.

His parents, in all their supposed ingenuity, still thought he and Sirius had never left the house. They were stupid. 

This time, however, Regulus did not wait. He was itching to leave, go somewhere, and figured that it was safe enough since his parents' last visit was only 3 weeks ago. And they never made them this frequent. 

Mistake. 

He left at around 9 in the morning, enough time to tell Sirius where he was going, and eat a good breakfast before he set off. 

And really, for such a doomed expedition, he really did have a lovely time. He perfected a translation from runes to Greek, from an ancient tome he and Elio had found in some dusty corner. The piece of parchment he now held in his hands was the only standing translation of the text to knowledge. 

That was why then, he sported a sickening kind of grin on his walk home. Elated from his progress in his studies, and the success of the project he had been working on for weeks, it was as if the happiness shone from him, in some disgusting display of light. 

Yeah, that didn't last for long. 

Indeed it lasted about as long as it took him to unlock the door to the main element of his family compound. Where he saw the stone cold faces of Walburga and Orion black. 

He should have seen it coming really, in their absence he had grown soft, he had become unaware. It was a disgrace. 

'Regulus,' His mother said, in a tone that would have made weaker men shake in their boots. His brother just looked at him sympathetically. 

'Mother, Father, I had not expected you back this soon. If I had I would have had the cooks prepare something grand for your return, forgive me.'

'Regulus, frankly I did not expect you to be this brazen with your disrespect.' his mother said, a calm venom lacing her voice.

'Mother? I-' Regulus replied, his heart beginning to race. 

'No, Frankly regulus I do not even want to hear you speak. The utter disrespect and disregard for your parents it must have taken for you to so carelessly and brazenly overlook the boundaries me and your father have set since you were born. Do you understand how little it would take for everything we have built to crumble? No you don't because you are a child and you understand nothing. Everything we have, everything we have built, relies on the security you and your brother bring. Our company needs heirs to secure its standing within Greece. Who will invest in a company, that might dissolve as soon as its proprietors pass? No one. Furthermore, What kind of image would we have as upstanding members of society, without fucking heirs do you understand Regulus? Could this very simple notion for once enter your tragically immature mind?'

'Mother-'

'No regulus, I have worked too hard, for too long, for all of this to be put at stake by a foolish child who simply cannot understand his purpose in life. I will not, I say, I will not, have my heirs be trampled like fucking dogs in the street, putting my name, my standing in jeopardy, simply because in some foolish childish way, they wanted some fucking freedom. Absolutely not.'

At this Sirius began to speak. 'Mother-'

'No. This ends today, do you hear me? So Regulus, if you want to go out so badly, fucking go out. See how lovely you enjoy your life without the security and safety me and your loving father have provided you all these years.'

His father, during his mother's tirade, had grabbed a wooden bat, about the size and thickness of Regulus' forearm. Their intention was clear. 

'Please mother, I beg-' 

He could not finish his sentence, when his father grabbed his wrist and dragged him to his feet.

His last thought was of the gods, when he felt a sharp pain, and his vision quickly gave to white. 

****

 

Notes:

Hello!

I hope you enjoyed, sorry for this chapter being a lot shorter than I usually make them, next one should hopefully be a bit longer, but we'll see when I finish writing it lol.

XxPrioryxX

Chapter 4: When moons fall

Summary:

'What's your name?'

'You can call me James. What's yours, I never caught it from the vendors.'

'Regulus' he said absentmindedly, 'What so that's not your name?'

James just laughed lightly, as if in on a joke regulus didn't understand. 'No, but it's what you can call me.'

-OR-

Regulus finally meets James, perhaps not in exactly the way he would have wanted to.

Notes:

Hello!

Sorry for the wait for this chapter, I've just started sixth form, so it's been a bit manic. Regardless I hope you enjoy.

XxPrioryxX

**** (13th November, the day after the events of chapter 3)

There was no reference for Regulus' pain.

He had never been hurt in his life, his parent's always too skittish to damage their legacy. 

He had read about it, sure. In ancient texts of fallen heroes and fatal stab wounds. Of gushing red, crimson pillows and puddles of oozing life. he had read enough of them that he thought he understood what it meant to be in pain. 

He was so completely wrong. 

Regulus woke up the morning after the confrontation with his parents, on a pavement somewhere, with no thoughts other than, 'Jesus fuck, ow, oh my god, Jesus that hurts,' etc. To be honest, Regulus did not really expect to have thoughts other than ow, ever again, but after an hour, or what Regulus thought was an hour, the pain began to ebb. Only so much that he could begin to form coherent thought again. 

Enough to realise that he definitely wasn't home. 

what the fuck. To be honest, Regulus thought that knocking him unconscious was the end of his punishment. He thought he might've woken up in his room, under lock and key, and for a few weeks he'd be under heavier scrutiny than before. 

And for the second time that day, Regulus was completely and utterly wrong. 

Perhaps he should have expected it really. His parents did not like slights to their authority at all. They needed to know at all times, that they were the most powerful, the most influential, the most wealthy, whatever, of everyone in a room. That still went for their kids. Their kids were not allowed to be smarter than they were, if their parent's said something, even if they were wrong, their word was as good as gospel. And they expected it to be followed as such. 

So when Regulus defied them... they didn't exactly take that lightly. This was their retribution. Showing him that they were in control of his life, they could upturn it in a second, and he could do nothing about it. And they were right, they could, and they did. 

**** 

Regulus regrets not exploring the city further than the temple. Because now, dazed, in pain, and ever so slightly bleeding, he was completely lost in a part of town he had never laid sights on. 

He did not even know if he was in the same city, country even. 

No, that wasn't right, he was still in Greece, still in Minos, he could hear the odd lilting accent of the Minoans wafting through the street from a market a few hundred meters or so away. 

He figured that was an okay place to start. Maybe if he could figure out where exactly in Minos he was, he could find his way to the temple, maybe stay with Elio for a bit, while he figured out what the fuck he was going to do. 

It was a good plan in theory, with one major downside... Regulus hated people, and really it was guaranteed to find such creatures in a place such as a market. 

But regardless, he made his way into the square, unsure of what else to do. 

Despite the racket it made, the market was actually quite lovely. He had no money, so he could not buy anything (much to the anger of the shopkeepers), but regardless he enjoyed walking around. 

There was however still the issue of his head. As he was walking around he could feel his head start to throb, his brain go fuzzy and light-headed. 

He pressed the tips of his fingers to the wound on his forehead, and they came back read. 

He figured there was nothing he could do about it now, rather wait until he found Elio to patch it up with his much superior temple supplies. 

That was until he collapsed. 

'Medic! Medic!' he heard vaguely through the haze of his cotton filled brain. 

After a minute, a larger presence stepped in front of him, the shadow of his form casting a blessed darkness over his face. 

A warm hand gently placed his head onto the cool concrete of the road, he was just now aware that somebody had probably caught him. He would need to thank them for that later. 

The same hand, laid itself over regulus' wound, and gently rubbed in a cold salve, before muttering an incantation under his breath that probably only he could hear.

'I'm going to give him something to let him sleep, and then I'll carry him to the clinic so I can treat him properly', the man said to the person beside him.

Regulus had barely enough time to process the statement through the veil of fog, never mind to protest, before a cold tincture was poured down his throat, and he drifted off into blessed unconsciousness. 

****

For the second time that day (and oh god did Regulus hope it was the last), Regulus woke up and had exactly 0 clue, where the hell he was. 

All he could see was whitewashed walls, white curtains, and white bedsheets. What in the actual fu-

'Hey, how are you doing αγάπη μο?', a voice cut off Regulus' internal ramblings. 

Regulus had not noticed the man sitting next to him before he spoke, so he turned his head to face him. He was beautiful. Perhaps that shouldn't have been his first thought after seeing the man who most likely rescued him, but nonetheless it was absolutely true. 

His skin was a tanned chestnut-brown, his hair a deep black, and curly like he spent time in the sea. But what was most interesting about this man... was his eyes. he had odd eyes, beautiful but odd. They were a colour he had never seen before. 

They were gold. Not brown, or hazel or almond or any of the odd variations of pigments seen around town. But quite literally metallic and golden. They shone from within their sockets as though they contained their own infernal light, and when he turned his head they shimmered, like they were literally made from golden sheets.

'You gonna stare at me, or answer my question άγγελέ μου', His deep voice shook him out of his daze. 

'I'm fine, I'm so sorry for taking up your time.' Regulus made a move to put the duvet aside and get out of the bed. The weirdly comfortable bed might he add. 

'Yeah no, not happening, do you know how long I spent stitching up that lovely forehead of yours? One wrong move and all those amazingly done stitches pop out of said forehead, which frankly I'm hoping to avoid. You are staying in that bed right there until at least next week if that.' 

He called you lovely. -yeah no shut up, not what I need to be thinking about right now. Plus he called my forehead lovely, not me, so for all we know he could have some weird fetish or something. Not my problem.-

'My parents-'

'Your parents frankly will have to make do. If you need to contact anyone, we have an in messaging service, just write a note on some paper, tell me the adress and we'll have it sent out within the day.'

At that point, regulus realised he wasn't getting out of this. But at least he should be able to stop called the man 'the man' in his head. 

'What's your name?'

'You can call me James. What's yours, I never caught it from the vendors.'

'Regulus' he said absentmindedly, 'What so that's not your name?'

James just laughed lightly, as if in on a joke regulus didn't understand. 'No, but it's what you can call me.'

With that, he left, and regulus was again alone with his thoughts.

****

The first thing Regulus noticed about James was that he was constantly doing something. To the point that it was slightly insufferable. If he wasn't bandaging a child's eye then he was writing up his notes, or straightening the sheets of a bed in the corner, or mopping the floor during a quiet period. 

There was never a point during the day where James was not doing something, where he wasn't busy. 

Regulus on the other hand, was apparently not allowed to be busy. He was not really allowed to get out of bed, only to go to the toilet or pour himself a glass of water. He had done all the things he could do, stuck in a bed, in a hospital without any of his things. He had written the note to Sirius telling him where he was (as much as he could, what with him not really knowing the exact location of this hospital), he cleaned out his pockets and straightened his hair. 

After that... All he really had to do, was watch James. And to be honest it wasn't a terrible view. 

He liked watching the man go about his day. He was busy but he wasn't frantic. He could be intimidating when he wanted to, to get the message across to his patients, but he was never scary. he was firm but he was not mean. 

But for all Regulus' fascinations with the man, he had begun to grow bored of watching him clean a child's knee, or write up treatment plans. That was until around two o'clock that evening. 

It started when a woman with shoulder length blonde hair came bursting into the clinic. 

'James, holy shit, holy fuck you actually need to come, this is not a fucking drill.' James, regardless of the rather frantic way she was speaking, seemed to relax at the girl's presence. 

'Marlene, Jesus Christ, I've been waiting for you lot since 8 this fucking morning. What happened? Did I not tell you to keep track of him?'

'Jesus James we do not have fucking time for your shit right now, I'm serious.' James seemed to understand the severity of whatever she was talking about, as he dropped the instruments he had been sterilising to follow her through the front door into the courtyard. 

About a minute later, James came through the door, carrying a rather tall man in his arms. 

Regulus frankly wonders why they didn't grab a stretcher but that's beside the point. 

The woman James called Marlene was talking hurriedly to a small group of people that had followed James through the door. Regulus wonders if they even knows he's here with how loud they're talking. 

'You knew he was going to fall today, so why didn't you fucking watch him?' A girl with bright red hair said to Marlene. 

'I literally turned my back for a second and he was on the ground screaming like I'd killed his mother, what the fuck else was I supposed to do lil'?

'Not let that happen!' The red-head turned to James. 'Is he going to be alright, Jamie?'

A woman with dark black curly hair stepped in front of her and placed her arms comfortingly around her shoulders. 'You know how he gets when he's healing, I don't even think he can hear you right now'

Regulus would have to agree. James was hunkered over the man mumbling and whispering under his breath as he ran his hands over the man's injuries. From the way James was hunched over the man, and how the group crowded around the bed, Regulus could not even catch so much as a glimpse at the mystery man on the table. But he supposed it must have been quite a sight with how they were whispering and whimpering every two seconds. 

After about 10 minutes, James sat up abruptly, pulling off the white coat he had donned before starting his treatment, and flinging it on to the chair by his desk.

'Jam-' the woman with red hair started.

'Lily,' He said in a voice, that regulus figures would make earthquakes shiver. 'I don't care who's turn it was to watch him this month, nor do I care whose back was turned, or whose cat had a birthday that meant that I just had to re-set fifty fucking bones in my best fucking friends body. I keep track of when and where, that's my job, it has always been and will always be my job. Do you understand? That is my responsibility. What is your responsibility, is to make sure that I never have to fucking do that again, am I clear?' 

A mumbled yes came from the group. 

'I do not think I can perform another miracle today, and that includes dealing with the thousand-odd screaming children that are probably lined up outside my door, because I had to closed this fucking junk-yard to deal with this mess. So if you all could put some gloves on and do literally anything that would be much appreciated.'

The whole group moved to do as he asked except Marlene. 

'James I'm so sorry, I can't believe I fucked up like this, I-'

James cut her off by wrapping her in a hug. 'I'm sorry for getting mad at you guys. This shit happens okay. it's not fair of me to say that this will never happen, but I need you to promise me that you'll be more careful next time okay?'

'Next time? You're seriously going to trust me with this again? Are you sure that's a great idea?'

James just wrapped her tighter. 'I think what we need to do is go in pairs next time. We're less likely to get caught off guard, if there's multiple people there. But marls you did a good job okay? You got him here on time, that's all that matters. And I'm sorry again for getting angry, I just was not expecting to do that today to be honest.'

'No you were right to be mad.'

'No. I wasn't'

And that was that, Marlene didn't try to convince him again, she just relaxed into the man's embrace before pulling away to don a gown and gloves.

From the racket coming outside, James wasn't too far off in his thousand-odd estimate. 

****

Notes:

αγάπη μο - my love

άγγελέ μου - my angel

Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

XxPrioryxX

Chapter 5: As the lies are spun

Summary:

'Can I ask you something?' he said. Concern lacing his expression.

'Only If I can ask you something in return.'

-OR-

James gets questioned about the man behind the curtain.

Notes:

Hello!

I don't actually have anything to say so I'll just say that I hope that you've had a really nice week, and I hope that you'll have a really nice week next week.

That feels like enough for a beginning chapter note right? How the fuck do I do these?

XxPrioryxX

Shit hits the fan really quickly at the clinic, Regulus figures. 

Because one minute, he's quite peacefully watching James sterilise his instruments, and the next minute, his ears are getting completely and utterly assaulted by the complete and utter chaos that is James shutting down the clinic for 20 minutes. 

Regulus himself had never been to a clinic before, his parents rather opting for rather stringent medical care at the hands of their in-house nurse poppy, but he does wonder how wise it is for the town to depend on one man so much. 

That's the other thing, there didn't seem to be another doctor at the clinic. Other than now, when his odd group of... Friends? Regulus did not actually know who they were, but other than them, this is the first time the whole day, Regulus had seen someone other than James deliver patient care. It would have been incredibly impressive if it wasn't so confusing. 

How the fuck could one man take care of seemingly an entire city, all by himself? That was a question for another day. 

Throughout the chaos, Regulus kept trying to sneak looks at the man who had seemingly needed 'watching'. Regulus wonders what kind of man needs 'watching' by a team of people simply in order to avoid hurting himself when he periodically 'falls', to be honest he was just a little confused. he would ask James, but he hadn't said two words to the man since he saved his life and offered him free medical care, so to be honest regulus figures the question would be a little unwelcome. 

It was about 10 minutes into the pandemonium when Regulus managed to see him. James had laid the man on the very last bed, evidently to keep him out of sight from the rest of the patients, and what he saw was not exactly what he expected. The man laying there was tall, for one, his legs fell limply over the edge of the bed, and his arms draped over the sides. Regulus would think him dead were it not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The man was absolutely covered in thick pink scars, all over his face and arms and legs and... everywhere, really that regulus could see. 

if this was the product of his 'falling' then maybe he did need to be watched. His clothes were torn to shreds. He wore a soft looking brown jumper, that was quite literally torn to ribbons, all that was remaining was the sleeves and a few strands by the collar. the shirt he evidently wore underneath, suffering much the same fate. Regulus, rather than questioning why exactly this man looked as though he had gotten on the bad side of a pack of wolves, wondered how that man could stand such think clothes in this heat. Minos wasn't exactly known for its particularly cool winters, though it did suffer its exceptions, but perhaps the man had come from somewhere cooler. 

The longer Regulus looked at the man, the more he became curious. He was curious what in the man's condition was so concerning to his friends, he looked fine to regulus. But then again he was no medical professional. 

he was curious about a lot of things, but before Regulus could think any more about his curiosities, someone closed the curtain around his bed, and Regulus couldn't speculate any longer. 

****

Regulus was just about getting to sleep when James came to check up on him again. 

'Can't we do this later?' he pleaded, the throbbing in his head that had returned, making it rather hard to be embarrassed about his whiny tone. 

'nope' James said, popping the 'p'. 'I've got now, or 2 in the morning, so you can tell me which one you prefer.' James said, with a slight gimace as he paged through his schedule for the rest of the night. 

'Fine' Regulus conceded, sitting up against the headboard of the bed. 

'How's the head?' James said, noting down something-or-other in his notepad. 

'Eh.'

'See that's not really an answer. Regulus, I genuinely need to know. The head is a really tedious body part to fix, infections get really bad, and they can be fatal. You have  a really nasty wound and if you don't tell me what in particular is wrong, I will not know what I need to keep track of. Okay?'

Regulus nodded almost imperceptibly, before saying, 'It feels like my head is playing the bass drum.'

'Yeah I bet, the sedative I gave you should be wearing off by now, I'll give you another dose and that should clear up the pain.' James said, writing that piece of information down with intense concentration. 

James did a few other random things, before looking back at Regulus.

'Can I ask you something?' he said. Concern lacing his expression. 

'Only If I can ask you something in return.' Regulus replied, already thinking of a question to ask that would satiate his curiosity of the man behind the curtain. 

'A Negotiater we have here, I see how it is. Deal. I'll go first though.' James paused before speaking. 'How did you get that wound Regulus?'

'I fell.' He said immediately. 

'Yeah, no. You see regulus I have treated a lot of liars in my day, and I like to think myself something of a human lie detector. So no dice. The contusion on your head does not suggest a fall. Typically with fall patients we see other damage done to the rest of the body, like broken arms or legs or even a chipped tooth. This is a direct blow to the head. The bruising is centred around a single point of impact, so...' 

Regulus obviously looked unwilling enough to talk because James followed that up with. 'You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but if you do... I'm here okay?'

He sounded so sincere Regulus almost wanted to tell him everything right then and there. But he composed himself, and nodded slightly. 

'You can ask your question now.' James said. 

Regulus looked up at him, confused. He had not answered James' question so he did not expect to be offered one of his own. 

James just looked at him patiently. 

'What happened to him?' Regulus said, quietly, pointing to the closed corner at the back of the clinic. 

'Who, Remus? oh. He has bad eyesight, it's a new moon today so it gets really dark and he tends to fall and hurt himself, that's why you probably heard us talking about us watching him. It's been a problem since we were kids.' 

'is that the truth?' Regulus said, already rather disbelieving of the tale James had spun. 

James laughed, 'No, but it's what you should believe.'

Regulus figured himself more confused, and more curious, than before he'd asked his question. The fuck was going on?

****

Notes:

Hello.

So. yup. Anyways. Eat cake, do crime.

XxPrioryxX

Chapter 6: Words like honey wine

Summary:

Regulus was fed up. Completely and utterly bored. Unreservedly and wholly tired of sitting in a bed for days on end. (He had found a thesaurus hidden in his bedside. He was really very bored).

-OR-

Regulus decides to go against the doctor's orders.

Notes:

Hi everyone,

I know its been ages since I posted on this fic, but I'm trying to get a least a few chapters up on each so y'all don't think I've deserted them.
Regardless I hope you enjoy.

XxPrioryxX

**** (14th November, the day after the events of chapter 5)

Regulus was fed up. Completely and utterly bored. Unreservedly and wholly tired of sitting in a bed for days on end. (He had found a thesaurus hidden in his bedside. He was really very bored). 

Sure it had only been a day, and sure most of that time had indeed been spent unconscious, but compared to his days, filled with literature and learning, this was like watching paint dry. 

James had given him no inclination that he was letting him go anytime soon, and Regulus was getting tired of subtly hinting at his potential release. 

It was only around noon when Regulus found something to do.

It had become insanely busy over lunch, there had been a massive brawl at the local tavern, and it was becoming increasingly clear that none of James' friends were coming to help. 

James had people laying on beds, laying on the floor, sitting in chairs, sitting on each other. The whole clinic was just a massive mob of people at this point, with only one clinician to patch them all up. 

When James had started to look pale, Regulus decided he couldn't watch this any longer. He quickly got up and went to find James in the crowd of people. 

When he found him, he was patching up an old man's cheek. He'd been stabbed in the face with glass. Gods above people were crazy.

When he was done a minute later, Regulus went to go talk to him. 

'Regulus I can't really talk now.' James said, looking paler than ever. 

'Yeah I don't want to talk, I would prefer to save you from what seems to be imminent death. You look as if the blood's all drained to your feet. I learned how to patch people up in the temple clinic, so just point to someone and I'll help.' Regulus said, hoping that James would not protest.

James looked as if he was going to disagree when he seemed to give in. Resignation clear on his face. He could not argue that he looked well, he could not handle this all on his own. He pointed to a group of men sitting in the back of the room, and then pointed to supply trolleys dotted around the room. 

Regulus was about to start when he felt an insanely hot hand grip his wrist and pull him back. As soon as James had touched him he felt as if he had been swaddled by an inferno.

'Thank you Regulus.' James said, withdrawing his hand, taking the flames th him. Regulus suddenly felt cold, but barely had the time to question things before he went to patch the brawlers up before James changed his mind. 

****

It took much longer than it should have to clear the room of patients. As they fixed one person, another one, with even greater injuries seemed to replace them almost instantaneously. But by about nine PM, the clinic was pretty much completely clear. Except for a few patients that had to stay overnight for monitoring, and the guy from yesterday, who was still laying in the corner of the room. 

Regulus wondered if he'd moved at all. 

He heard footsteps coming behind him. 'Thank you Regulus, honestly, I would have been here 'till morning were it not for you.' James said, the colour having slightly returned to his cheeks. 

'It's alright,' Regulus replied sheepishly, 'Where are your friends? Could they not have helped today?'

James looked sad, 'No, they're- they're visiting home for a while. Anyways, I've managed by myself for a long time, so I don't really know why today was so crazy.'

James started walking into the backrooms, Regulus had never been in there, nor did he know if he was allowed to be in there, so he stayed put. James however turned round and motioned confusedly for him to follow him, so he hurried back to his side. 

It turned out to be a living room. Set with a very comfortable looking leather couch, an armchair, a coffee table in the middle, and.... books. Thousands upon thousands of books it seemed. They were stacked in shelves, on top of the shelves, under the coffee table, on the coffee table, stacked in piles on the floor, and then piles had been piled on those piles. Safe to say, James owned more books than Regulus had ever seen in his life. 

Regulus would have felt cramped in the space if it wasn't so big. The whole place looked like a converted temple, with high domed ceilings and stained glass. Regulus wondered what miracle had befallen the council that they had allowed such a thing to happen. 

Regulus heard the clinking of glass from behind him. James had two glasses set down on the coffee table, and was pouring a thin amber liquid into both. 

'I don't really drink.' Regulus said, calling over to where James was standing. 

'I think after a day like this, it would be blasphemous not to drink no?' James said, the tiredness he had clearly been keeping at bay for the sake of his patients seeping back into his expression. 

'Fair.' Regulus agreed, walking back over to the sitting area, accepting the glass that James held out for him. 'How long have you been working at the clinic?' Regulus queried. 

'Longer than I should have been.' Another cryptic answer. 

'How'd you manage to come by this place?' Regulus said, looking back up at the high ceilings. 

'It was a derelict temple.' Finally an answer, Regulus thought, 'It was home to a cult of sorts, they- they worshipped the old gods. But then the council deemed them blasphemous and thad them killed. They were going to tear it down, but I bought it off them, turned It into this place. Really only the front part I turned into the clinic. The rest I use for myself.' James said, looking fondly at his books. 

'Where do you sleep? Sorry that sounds pretty forward, I just mean, there doesn't really seem much space for a bedroom, amid these books.' Regulus said, still looking at the abyss of literature. 

James just laughed, paused for a moment and then spoke. 'I don't, really.'

'What?' Regulus said, confused. 

'Sleep, I never really have the time to indulge myself in that way. I guess if I have to, I just kind of sleep... here. They're comfortable enough.' James said, perfectly serious. 'It's just me who lives here, so I never really invested in a sleeping quarter. Less room for the books.'

Regulus understood that part. Regulus took a sip of the amber liquid that James had poured him. It was sweet, like honey. He swallowed and it sent a warm flame down his throat. Noticeable but not uncomfortable. 

'What is this?' Regulus said, pleasantly surprised. 

'Honey wine.' James explained. 'You read much?' he said further, gesturing to the room at large. 

Regulus, who had suddenly began to feel the affects of the wine, nodded enthusiastically. 'Yeah, Elio, the priest at the temple where I live has a big library, but goodness not as big as this. Not by far. I've read almost all of it by know though.'

James suddenly looked happy. 'Elio became a priest?' he laughed out loud. 

'Why did you know him?' Regulus was secretly confused again. From Elio's robes, he was a rather high up member of the temple clergy. That took time. Did James know him from before he entered the temple?

'I used to-' James shook his head, cutting himself off, 'No, never mind. Anyways, do you want to look around? I've got more books than I could tour you through so I think its best if you just kind of wander. Call if you get lost, or if you need a top up.' James said, shaking his glass, and settling into the armchair with his own book. 

Regulus, who had finally succumbed to the sweet wine, forgot all about the confusing conversations with James, choosing instead to meander through the endless library.

****

Regulus was confused again. He found himself being more and more confused as time went on. He really needed to sort that out. 

He had not found more than three books in the same language as each other. Each tome was written in a completely different script, most of which Regulus would not even know where to begin understanding. 

Had James read more than twelve of these? How could he have possibly acquired such a varied collection? Elio, with all of the funds of the Minoan temple council behind him had managed to acquire books in about seven or eight languages, but books in any other languages tended to be wildly expensive and hard to get. 

James must have been insanely rich, or a very worldly man.

Regulus called out brazenly, 'James how many of your books have you read?' His voice carrying by echo across the room. 

'All of them.' Came the answer.

Regulus almost dropped the books he was holding. he quickly rushed back to the sitting area to hassle an explanation from the man. 

'All of them?' Regulus half-cried, 'First of all, how?' He said, gesturing to the sheer magnitude of books in the room, 'Second of all, James I have not found more than three books in the same language!'

'By design.' James said calmly, taking a sip of his drink 'homogeneous language allows for homogeneous thought as a friend of mine used to say.' James finished, looking fond. 

'Are you telling me that you know,' Regulus made the same gesture as before, 'that many languages? Bullshit.'

'Don't believe me? Bring me a few, all different scripts, I'll translate them for you.' James said, pouring himself another glass. 

Regulus rushed off, setting his own glass down on the table. He acquired about five books, each in wildly different scripts and written with completely different characters, intent on catching the medic in a lie.

'Here.' Regulus said, handing him the books. 

'Which one should I start with?' James asked, looking to Regulus with golden glinting eyes. 

Regulus paused, 'the middle one.' he didn't quite know why he chose that one, but it seemed like a good choice. 

James smiled as he saw the cover. 'Good choice.' Regulus felt warmth flood his chest. 

'So?' Regulus said quietly, falling into the couch. 

'Tales of beedle the bard.' James narrated, opening the book and blowing off the dust. 'What chapter o' mighty book chooser?' James joked. 

'Five.' Regulus laughed, plucking the number right off his head.

James looked impressed, clearing his throat as he began to translate. 

'There once was a young boy, who didn't quite know his place in his world. There was no corner of his town, no nook of space that the boy had not searched, looking for a purpose.' James lilted.

'His mother had looked at his fierce face upon his birth, and had called him Grimm. The church had often prophesied in those days. Before the names of the old gods were forgotten, and men forgot how to see. But the oracle saw nothing for Grimm. Only black, bleak, desolation. That day, his mother had hurried from church for the first time in her life, clutching the newborn in her steadily weakening arms. 

By the time his father had found them it was too late, his mother had ceased breathing. Though the boy would not remember, his father cried much that day, cursing the old gods for their impunity, the village despite their piety, had joined the old man in his cursing, mourning the loss of a wonderful woman. In the frenzy, the boy had been forgotten, left lying by the edge of the forest. 

His father had often hoped the boy had died, as just retribution for killing his wife upon his birth. But much to his father's dismay, the boy grew, and grew, until he stood like a tall tree, bending in the wind. The villagers, who did not yet know of Grimm's existence, complained, of a demon stalking in the night. A tall spectral form haunting the village during the witching hour. 

Only his father knew the truth, that there was no demon, but rather his wayward son, that he had claimed had died on that fateful day long ago. Grimm, so rejected by his only living parent and his community, turned to the skies, praying to the old gods, for some divine retribution for the people that had refused him. 

The old gods were vengeful then, with long and sturdy memories. They remembered the village and the man, and his cursing. They turned Grimm to an omen, a broken spectre, black as night, a walking shadow, a demon with menace and vengeance in his eyes. A being of colossal proportions, Grimm stalked the village, until each one had been driven off into the night, his purpose, having finally been found.'

Regulus' eyes had glazed over, his entire being attuned to the movements of the story-teller. Regulus could picture it all so clearly. James' words painting vivid pictures in his mind. Regulus felt like he could reach out and touch the leaves of the forest, smell the damp earth. James' words were like sweet honey wine on Regulus' brain, lulling him into a trance. He could barely think over the echo of James' words in his skull. 

He barely noticed James hurriedly sitting down beside him, barely felt the blazing heat of James' hands holding his face. Suddenly he felt an intense cool spread throughout his body, like ice spreading through his veins, James' heat receded, as though recoiling from the cold. 

Suddenly he could breathe again, though Regulus had not even been aware that he once couldn't. 

Regulus caught James whispering under his breath, 'Shit, shit, shit, I forgot I could do that.'

'What the fuck just happened?' Regulus slurred, suddenly feeling very drunk, though he did not remember having that much to drink. 

'You're drunk, love, I shouldn't have given you so much, you still need to heal. I'm not going to let you loose on the clinic in this state,' James said fondly, 'I'll bring you a pillow, just wait there.'

Regulus felt dazed, as if some switch that allowed basic autonomy in Regulus' brain had been switched off. Maybe James was right, maybe he just had too much to drink, he had not drunk in a long time, maybe he had just pushed past his limits. 

James quickly returned with a pillow and a sheet. He pushed regulus to a laying position, resting his head on the soft pillow, and covering the rapidly tiring boy with the sheet. 

'Sleep.' James said, his voice a resounding baritone in Regulus' skull.

The last thing Regulus felt was a burning hand over his face, before he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.