Chapter Text
Early August 1714
St James's Palace had never really felt like home to Sirius. The long, wide corridors seemed too empty, the chambers with the precious tapestries and the paintings of his ancestors too abysmal. When he was little, it all seemed too big, like one person couldn't possibly fill that much space, and that sense of being lost in nothingness hadn't dissipated as he'd gotten older. The palace was a gaping gorge that would swallow you whole if you stared into the darkness for too long, and Sirius hated one room more than the other.
He hated the chapel because there he had been forced to pray to a God who had never bestowed an act of mercy on him, and he hated the banquet hall because there he had endured endless, wearisome feasts, always under the watchful eye of his mother and his grandmother. Sirius had not been sad when smallpox had taken her away, for she had been a terribly cruel woman and had his grandfather been granted more time on earth he would certainly have remarried, but only a few months after his wife's death he suffered an unfortunate fall from his horse and died as well.
His grandfather, Arcturus, had not been a particularly popular king. He had driven the people into poverty with the taxes, kept countless mistresses and had never shown even the slightest bit of interest in his family. The moment Sirius' grandmother Melania had given birth to her firstborn son and thus fulfilled her duty as queen and wife, he had turned away from her. Despite counsellors urging the couple to have more children, Orion was left without siblings, eventually marrying his cousin, and they continued the tradition of the marriage of convenience and the loveless union that underlay it.
Walburga had done her best to instil in her eldest son from the very beginning that his life belonged not to him but to the people, and his heart belonged not to someone else but to England, and that all that mattered was the duty he had to fulfil and the loyalty that he owed to his family. After all, he was second in line to the throne after his father. But that changed the day Sirius' grandfather died.
He hadn't been at his bedside, no one had been there. Arcuturs had died alone, surrounded only by doctors and a bishop, and Sirius clearly remembered the look on his mother's face when she came to tell him and his brother that their father was now King of England. It was when Sirius became painfully aware that he was trapped in an endless cycle that would never set him free. He was doomed to one day wear the crown and continue the lineage of the Blacks, and the prospect of that being his sole purpose in life scared him to death.
However, he was acutely aware that his parents did not want him on the throne, but his younger brother, for although Regulus was only the spare, he was the favourite child of Walburga and Orion. He was obedient, the perfect well-behaved son who always did whatever he was told and Sirius made every effort to keep it that way. Every day he did his best to keep the image his parents had of Regulus intact because it was bad enough that they were abusing one of their children if they broke the rules.
That didn't mean Regulus wasn't breaking the rules too, but Sirius always made sure he was the one getting punished. No matter how cruel his mother reacted, he accepted it all willingly, because it would protect Regulus from at least some of the misery that came automatically when you were born into this depraved family. It had always been like that and it always would be like that. Sirius was the rebellious son, the unwanted heir and Regulus the perfect child who would surely make a far better king.
It also had nothing to do with the fact that his parents loved Regulus more than him, no, Sirius was firmly convinced that neither Walburga nor Orion were capable of feeling real love. All that mattered was meeting their expectations and not making any mistakes. Anything less than sheer perfection was not tolerated and Sirius had felt from the beginning of his life that this pressure would eventually crush him. The walls of the palace smothered him, closing in at night and whispering to him that none of this mattered and that eventually, he would just cease to exist if he didn't try to break out of this cage.
Escape was the only thing Sirius could think of for a long time now and the only reason he was still here was Regulus. The thought of leaving him here was drowning him in guilt, but he would also drown if he chose to stay. This life that his parents tried to force him into was not made for him and the desire to finally be free literally tore him apart from the inside. It had only been a few months since his father's coronation, but he and Walburga had not hesitated for a second and immediately started planning his investiture, his official appointment as Prince of Wales.
This was to establish Sirius in public as the heir to the throne and strengthen his family's power so that no one could dispute their claim, which no one would have dared anyway, for the Blacks were notorious for not being kind to imposters or usurpers. Anyone who tried to oppose them was crushed with brutal violence, and for this very reason, no one rebelled against them. Sirius knew that this had nothing to do with respect or any kind of reverence. They were feared, and the terror they wielded, they turned into power.
Sirius couldn't remember a single ruler from his family who had ever been popular with the people and once someone dared to step out of line before long that person mysteriously disappeared and was then removed from the family tree. This had happened to his maternal uncle, Alphard, and Sirius had been almost too young to remember, but he had been old enough to know that at some point his uncle simply stopped showing up at court and when he asked his mother when he would see him again, she had only looked at him with her dark, cold eyes and replied imperiously that he had no uncle.
Anyone who was different or too weak in Walburga's opinion was wiped out, and Sirius knew he hadn't met the same fate just because he was currently the first in line to the throne. And today it would be made official. Sirius, who was standing at his window and looking down into the courtyard where the guests were already milling about, swallowed and tried to take a deep breath. His throat felt tight and he was pretty sure that if he didn't keep concentrating on his breathing, he would surely vomit his breakfast.
He wasn't ready for this, not even in the slightest. He was not ready to be made Prince of Wales, nor did he think he would ever be ready to become king. Sirius refused to believe that fate had really decreed this path for him, for he was quite certain that there was no one in the world more unfit to lead a country than he was. Well, the exception might have been his great-grandfather and namesake. All he had accomplished in his short reign was to start a war with France. Still, Sirius didn't think he would make a good ruler.
He was impulsive, reckless, had little political sense and loved to break rules. Surely these were all terrible qualities for a future king. "I can't do this...", he murmured, looking away from the window and starting to pace up and down his room. He had been nervous many times in his life, but this was beyond all dimensions. It felt like his stomach was trying to turn inside out, his hands were sweaty and the high collar of his coat coiled around his neck like a snake. With shaking hands, Sirius grabbed the tightly laced fabric and began to tug at it, panic building up inside of him.
His heart began to race, his pulse pounded in his ears like a drum that was far too loud, and his legs began to tremble so that he thought he was about to collapse. Caught in the fear that held him in an iron grip, Sirius didn't hear the knock on his door, nor did he catch Regulus eventually poking his head into the room. "Sirius?" "I-I can't do this!", Sirius yelled to no one in particular, having not yet noticed his little brother's presence as he was busy struggling to free himself from his constricting clothing.
"I can't do this! I don't want this!", he whimpered in desperation when suddenly two cold hands grabbed his and he looked into Regulus' eyes, which in contrast to his were a stormy grey, a cool silver, while he had inherited his uncle's ocean-deep blue. "It's okay, I'm here.", Regulus said calmly, gently squeezing Sirius' hands and Sirius opened his mouth, wanting to beg his brother for help, but he understood without words. Quickly and deftly, he removed the tightly knotted neckerchief and undid the top buttons of Sirius' shirt. And Sirius gasped as if he had just been about to drown.
"Better?", Regulus asked and Sirius nodded, slowly lowering himself to the floor and leaning his back against one of the wooden posts of his four-poster bed. "Yeah...", he huffed and Regulus sat down next to him. "I already told you yesterday not to worry. It's just a simple ceremony. You only have to say one sentence, Father puts the coronet on your head and then you enjoy the applause, that's it." Sirius gave a wry laugh and closed his eyes. "The only thing I'll enjoy is when this is behind me. It feels more like I'm getting ready to go to the scaffold.", he replied sarcastically, and Regulus rolled his eyes.
"Don't make this worse than it is. I know you're nervous, but there's no reason to be. It's not like you have to rule England the moment the ceremony's over." "No, but one day I'll have to, and I'm scared of that, Reg.", Sirius replied, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He hated this room. Too much pomp and show, too much heavy brocade and too much green. The only thing he liked was a small hidden but very ornate carving above the door frame. His great-aunt Credella had gotten involved with a common man at the time and publicly announced she would marry him before they both died in unexplained ways.
And Sirius' family had really gone out of their way to erase any memory of them, but they didn't quite succeed. Sirius' room had previously belonged to Credella and she had carved her and her lover's initials into the wood above the door. A silent reminder of their love that not even his family's fury could erase. "Sirius, I know you don't think you can do this, but you're wrong. You were born to be king.", Regulus said, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Sirius shook his head. "No, I refuse to believe that our birth determines our destiny."
"But you are who you are and you can't change that.", Regulus replied, and that crease had formed above his eyebrows, which always dug into the skin there when his stubborn nature came to light. "There's no point in rambling on about what could be. You're here and you're the king's son. You should finally accept that this is your life." "And if I don't want to accept it? What if I don't want to accept that that's all?", Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair. According to his mother, it was too long, but he refused to have it cut shorter.
"What more do you want?" Regulus gave him the wide-eyed look he always did when he thought his big brother had the answers to every question in the universe and Sirius smiled sadly. "Don't you sometimes feel like you want to put this all behind you and live a life that makes you really happy?" "You mean...run away?" Regulus whispered the words as if the mere fact that he'd said them out loud might get him into trouble. "Come on Reggie, don't try to tell me you've never thought about what's outside of this palace. There's a whole world of wonder out there just waiting to be discovered.", Sirius explained, leaning his forehead that of Regulus.
"We could go away together and see all the things we only know from the books. We could go on an adventure, you and I.", he murmured and he felt Regulus sag slightly against him. They could break the chains and seek a new destiny for themselves. Never again would they have to suffer at the hands of their mother, never again would their father just look on while she punished them, never again would they be told that they were not living for themselves but for the kingdom.
The prospect of only leaving behind one more generation of the same name as a legacy was bleak, especially when Sirius had long dreamed of a much brighter future and what would make that dream perfect would be if Regulus were by his side. "You know very well that we can't just run away. They would look for us and they would find us.", Regulus said quietly and Sirius shrugged. "I would protect us from them. They would never get their hands on us, you just have to trust me. You trust me, don't you Reggie?" Sirius looked up, his eyes meeting his brother's slightly pained gaze directly.
He knew Regulus had the same wish. But he also knew that he would never just walk away like that. Not even when Sirius begged him on his knees. Suddenly the door flew open and their mother, ever a dreaded apparition, swept into the room with the flaming gaze of a fury in search of her prey. "Ah, there you are. Why are you sitting there on the floor like two tramps? Come on! Get up, both of you!", she ordered with a harsh hand movement and Regulus quickly got to his feet while Sirius took his time.
His mother eyed him disparagingly, noting his rumpled clothes with pursed lips and a single raised eyebrow. "Regulus, go join your father. I need to speak to your brother in private.", she said flatly, her voice crystal clear, and Regulus nodded slightly. He gave Sirius one last look before striding to the door, his gait stiff, and then the door shut with a soft click. Walburga clasped her hands in front of her, chin up so high that she was looking down at Sirius and he knew what was to come.
"I don't think I need to tell you that if we had a choice, you wouldn't be first in line to the throne.", she began and Sirius folded his arms across his chest. "And yet you are doing it right now.", he ground out and not even a second later his mother's hand hissed through the air like a deadly projectile and struck his cheek. The searing, stabbing pain that immediately ripped through his skin and spread down the left side of his face was familiar, like the creaking of the floorboards when, as a little boy, he'd tried to sneak into Regulus's nursery at night to soothe the crying baby.
"Don't you dare interrupt me, Sirius. I am your mother and as such I deserve nothing less than your respect and unwavering loyalty.", Walburga snapped at him and Sirius had to bite his tongue to hold back a sharp retort. "We both know that you were not made to rule, but we would be nothing without our traditions, so we must honour the way of our ancestors. You are my firstborn, you are your father's heir and you will equal him with dignity and do your duty, do you understand me?" She grabbed his shoulder with one hand and forced him to look at her with the other.
Her fingers were cold and her nails dug into his jaw. Sirius was firmly convinced that there wasn't an ounce of warmth alive in her body, that she was completely incapable of giving a tender touch and that the only person she would sacrifice everything for was herself. "Do not screw this up. You can't afford to make mistakes today. I know the thought of disappointing me fills you with excitement, but I assure you that if you behave improperly today, the consequences will be beyond ugly.", Walburga continued and the hand on Sirius' shoulder grabbed his hair.
Letting out a hiss, his head got yanked back, and his mother once again reminded him of a predator about to sink its venomous fangs into his exposed throat for the final kill. "Remember, if you fail, Regulus will suffer as well.", she whispered, her grip loosening and almost caringly she patted his cheek, which was still hot from her hitting him. Sirius stared up at her. It was one thing for her to threaten him, but he wasn't going to let her hurt Regulus. The trouble was, no matter what he did, he would never be able to do it right. His mother would never see him as more than a disgrace to the family.
And Regulus would ultimately be better off without him. Because Regulus was different from him, he was smarter and he knew what to say and do and how to behave in order to survive at this court. Sirius didn't have that power, he wasn't strong enough and would never be. "Now...straighten up your clothes, tie your hair and be on time. Everyone is already waiting for you and is dying to see their prince.", Walburga said it like it was something to be proud of, but the fact was that Sirius had been born into all of this.
He had accomplished nothing, everything had fallen into his lap and he despised himself for it. His mother turned away, not looking at him again, and then he was alone in the room where he had cried himself to sleep for endless many nights. It would never stop, ever, and Sirius was being stupid if he thought he could change anything about how his life in this palace would turn out. But...what lay outside those walls...even his mother couldn't control. Sirius ran to the window, looked down into the yard and spotted Regulus amongst all the other people.
His heart sank, felt like a stone pulling him down. But he had no choice, if he didn't want to go under then he had to let go and Sirius knew that Regulus had been too twisted by his mother's words to just run away with him. It hurt, but it was the truth and Sirius knew it. He would never willingly leave him behind, but he couldn't help himself or Regulus if he chose to stay. So he chose the opposite. Without taking a single item from his room, Sirius stepped out into the hallway and looked around.
If the guards spotted him they would surely drag him to the ceremony and if Kreacher spotted him he would definitely rat on his mother. Sirius didn't know the real name of the old valet who had served his mother for ages, but the way he kept crawling at Walburga's feet and bucking in front of her he couldn't have chosen a more appropriate nickname. Quickly and quietly, Sirius crept into Regulus' room, which was a couple of corridors away, laid his silver ring on his bed, which his little brother used to suck on when he was a baby, and took a last deep breath.
"I'm sorry, Reggie...", he whispered, then turned his back on Regulus' portrait hanging over the fireplace. Taking a detour that took him through the Drawing Room, with the Black family tree sprawling over its walls, Sirius managed to bypass the courtyard and get outside. It was early August but this was London so the weather was balmy and a few hazy clouds swept across the pale blue sky. Sirius looked around for a moment and then started walking. He didn't know exactly where to go, because he had never left the palace in the nineteen years that he had walked this earth.
But he ran as fast as his legs could carry, the heels of his shoes clattering on the uneven cobblestones, and he wanted to stop and look at the town he lived in, but knew that if he lingered for too long, he certainly someone would spot him and then they would catch up and drag him back to the palace. It wasn't a particularly well-planned escape, but all the people on the streets were so self-absorbed that nobody really paid any attention to him. So Sirius kept walking, although his lungs were beginning to rebel and he suddenly realized he had no idea what to do next.
He knew he had to get out of London as soon as possible, he just didn't know how to do it, but then he heard a couple strolling past him complaining about a rude, unmannerly pack of pirates who recently had attacked another ship belonging to the Royal Navy and then it suddenly became clear to him. Where could you experience a better adventure than at sea? "Port...I have to go to a port...", Sirius panted, his eyes darting around wildly until he spotted a cart loaded with barrels and wooden crates and having no other choice he climbed onto it.
If that cart could take him to a port, only God knew, but Sirius had decided to trust him for once, and as the horses began to move, Sirius crawled under the tattered brown sheets of flimsy leather to avoid being seen. The coachman certainly wouldn't approve of a stowaway and Sirius didn't know his way around well enough to get where he was going unaided. Of course, he could have had terribly bad luck and ended up somewhere in the gutter, but fate had its whims sometimes and so after a few jerky and uncomfortable hours he arrived at the coast.
Sirius smelled and heard the sea before he could see it and as he peeked out from under the sheets he tasted the salt in the air and saw the seagulls circling overhead. He didn't realize the cart had taken him to the port of Dover, but that didn't matter. It could have been any port, but Sirius had landed exactly where he was supposed to be, he just didn't know it at this point. What he did know, however, was that he would have to smuggle himself on board a ship as soon as possible in order to be able to leave England today.
Unnoticed, he slipped out from among the barrels and crates, leaving behind his finely embroidered coat of sage-coloured velvet, and ran to the pier. Most of the ships there were merchant ships, plying the seas on behalf of the king and of course that was out of the question as the crew would surely recognize him immediately and take him back to London. "Come on, just one ship that doesn't belong to the Royal Navy...", Sirius prayed quietly and finally spotted a ship further back on the pier that hadn't hoisted a flag.
It was a galleon made of dark, warm wood with maroon sails and three masts. At the front of the bow was a finely crafted figurehead, also carved from wood, depicting a rearing lion with a waving mane. Sirius didn't hesitate, slipping into the freezing cold water amidst the hustle and bustle of the pier, he somehow managed to slip aboard unnoticed. In the hold, among cargo that might have struck him as suspicious had he known better, he crouched in a corner, drew his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. Surely they had already noticed his disappearance.
He could imagine his mother raging and his father, as ever, wearing his stoic expression and shaking his head in disappointment. But he could also picture Regulus, the hurt in his eyes when he realized his big brother had left him and Sirius felt a sting behind his eyelids. He couldn't stop it and within a few seconds the tears were running down his cheeks unhindered and he was sobbing softly into his shirt sleeves. The last few hours had felt like a strange rush, everything had flashed past him as if he had been in a trance, but now the weight of what he had done was pattering down on him.
He couldn't go back and Sirius would never want to, but he couldn't ignore a certain nagging doubt. It was that quiet, mean voice in the back of his head that whispered to him that he had let Regulus down and that his little brother would never forgive him, and maybe the voice was right. Regulus had every right to hate him now, and Sirius deserved that anger, but he fervently hoped Regulus would understand why he had done it. "I couldn't stay there, Reg...I would have died...", he whispered into the ship's dim void, vaguely hoping that the wind might carry those words as far as London to reach Regulus.
How long he sat there in silence and cried, Sirius didn't know, time had lost all meaning for him that day, but eventually he heard voices and footsteps and finally the ship set sail and left the harbour. It swayed slightly, a gentle, peaceful rocking, and Sirius could now clearly hear the sound of the sea and the creaking and groaning of the ship as it battered against the waves, leaving England behind. For a little while Sirius felt oddly safe, almost..content, but then the hatch above him opened, daylight poured down into the cargo hold and two figures approached him.
"You heard what Marls said and I for one believe her. I would have won the bet if you hadn't screwed it up.", said a voice followed by a sneering deep laugh. "You're only saying that because you know full well that I would have won and then you would have owed me your share.", a second voice replied, which sounded confusingly similar to the first one and in an attempt to avoid slipping into view, Sirius slid a little further to the left.
But in the process, he knocked over a small barrel that rolled across the floor and bumped into the foot of one of the two men, who then looked at his mate and Sirius didn't even have time to turn away before he was grabbed by the ankles and dragged from his hiding place. "Hey hey hey, what have we got here? Gid, look at this. A stowaway.", laughed the second voice and Sirius tried desperately to grab onto something, but he found nothing to hold onto and was relentlessly dragged on until finally the man let go of him and Sirius realized he was on deck.
"What's that?", asked a slightly squeaky voice and the man who must have been 'Gid' laughed. "Fab and I found him below deck. He must have snuck on board in Dover." "So what are we going to do with him now?", asked someone who sounded suspiciously like a woman to Sirius' ears. "It's not up to us to decide. It's up to the captain.", someone intervened and Sirius allowed himself to peek out from between his fingers. This brief glimpse revealed two red-haired men who resembled each other to the last freckle and a shorter, somewhat stocky young man with mousy blond hair.
There was also a tall, athletically built bloke with dark brown hair, and a young woman with dark skin and wild black curls, which she had tied back halfway with a brightly patterned cloth. All sorts of beads and the like were woven into it and they all looked a little bit ragged and rough. And then Sirius noticed the flag, now flapping wildly in the wind. A white lion's head on a black background, holding a skull between its fangs.
"You are pirates." The words stumbled from Sirius' lips before the thought really had time to sink into his mind and he was crouching there on all fours, surrounded by the crew members, who were now starting to laugh like he'd just told the best joke of the century. "What a greenhorn!", Fabian barked, leaning on Gideon's shoulder for support, his whole body shaking with laughter. "Oi, pull yourself together." The man with the dark brown hair hissed, although he was hiding a smirk in the right corner of his mouth.
"Frank's right, don't laugh at him. He couldn't have known.", the woman with the colourful pearls in her hair agreed with Frank and Sirius thought he saw something like pity in her eyes. But that wasn't possible, was it? Pirates were a wild, murderous bunch of marauders who knew no rules except those of the sea and always took what they wanted. "But now he knows." Everyone immediately straightened their shoulders and snapped their heads as another man slowly and unhurriedly joined them. He had brown skin and black untamed hair, wore round glasses, and also a large wide-brimmed hat with some red and gold feathers attached to it.
"Captain, we found him below deck. What should we do with him now?", the smaller guy asked, who Sirius thought he recognized as the ship's cook because he had a greasy, probably once white apron tied around his waist. "Now my dear Wormtail, what do we usually do with stowaways, huh?", the captain replied with a wink and 'Wormtail' grinned. "Let him walk the plank!", he ordered and Sirius was grabbed by the shoulders by Fabian and Gideon and got yanked to his feet.
"No! P-Please, I swear I had no ill intentions! I just wanted to get out of England!", he cried desperately, kicking his feet but they were dangling a few feet above the deck as he was dragged to the railing. "Oh a fugitive then, huh? What are you? A deserter? I don't like cowards who run away and break their oath. That's a sign of bad manners and disloyalty.", the captain explained with a shrug and Sirius jumped in shock as Frank and the young woman pushed the plank into place while the water slapped against the bow of the ship, the spray spattering his face.
"I-I can't swim!", Sirius yelled and that wasn't even a lie because, of course, his parents had never felt the need to teach Regulus and him. "All the better, that will shorten your suffering considerably, my friend.", the captain replied easily and Gideon and Fabian pushed him onto the plank. Sirius staggered, stretching out his arms for some sort of balance, and thought he could feel his heart pounding on his tongue. He only had one more ace up his sleeve and if that argument didn't convince the pirates that throwing him overboard was a bad idea, then his adventure would come to an abrupt end here and now.
"I am the prince! I am the heir to the throne of England!" His panicked voice was almost drowned out by the loud roar of the sea and Sirius, who had screwed his eyes shut, didn't dare to move even a single inch. No one said anything for an agonizingly long moment, then Sirius was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and pulled back, tripping and landing on his bum. "The prince, huh?" The captain was standing directly in front of him, propped up on his thighs and so close to Sirius' face that he could see that he had a small scar just below his right eye.
Did they believe him? If so what would they do now? Would they try to blackmail his parents and trade him for ransom? If so, then they would probably be in for a real disappointment, because Sirius could only imagine that his parents would be very grateful if he were killed by pirates. Then they would be rid of him and could officially make Regulus Prince of Wales. "Well, if that's so...I guess there's only one thing to say.", the captain said, slowly getting up and Sirius thought he was about to draw his sword and cut off his head, but then something happened. Something Sirius wouldn't have expected to happen in a million years.
The captain smiled at him, warm and sincere, and offered him his hand. "Welcome aboard the Lionheart, mate!"
Sirius frowned, staring at the young man and his jaw literally dropped. "Huh?!"