Gordon had his gun aimed at the door, unsure what or who would be trying to get in next - although by that point, he'd say he had a pretty good idea. Alfred, on the other hand, preferred to keep a gun to Kathryn's temple. No one had removed her cuffs, there was damning evidence in Gordon's pocket - enough to set up a trial for her, yet the casual way she leaned back in her seat perturbed the butler.
Sounds of crashing lamps, shifting chairs and tables scraping on the floor erupted outside.
"Enough nonsense from this stuffy aristocrat!" Alfred moved Kathryn's head with the strength of his barrel trained on her head. "You tell me what I need to know right now, or I'm blowing your damned head off!"
"Hey..." warned Jim, though not too sternly, his gun still pointed in the direction of the shut door.
"That's all?" asked Kathryn, unimpressed. "I'm getting threatened with a gun in the middle of a station, in front of the reigning Captain himself, and all I get is a 'hey'?"
"I'd say this situation is a little unconventional. Bruce Wayne's butler holding a gun to your head is the least of our problems right now," replied Jim with a sarcastic smirk.
"Damn it!" yelled Alfred, right before he smacked her across the temple with the back of his gun, knocking her out completely.
Jim winced. "Was that really necessary, Alfred?"
"Whoever it is that is out there is coming for her, alright? You know that and I know that. Now can you bloody get her cuffs off so we can take her somewhere else?"
Still trained on the door, Jim hesitated a moment, then pulled the key from his breast pocket and threw it over to Alfred. Alfred caught it mid-flight, and immediately set to getting the cuffs off Kathryn.
Right then, an imposing shadow moved through the smoke and kicked open the door. Stepping into the room was an iron-plated Barnes, the former Captain of the GCPD, now driven completely insane. Jim began shooting at Barnes the moment he came into view, but he only managed to squeeze out two bullets before his gun got sliced into half by the axe that Barnes had affixed onto his left hand. Neither bullet managed to hit anything, having ricocheted off the iron. In mere moments, Jim found himself lifted off the ground, his throat wrapped tighter than a Christmas present by Barnes' other hand.
"Jim Gordon!" boomed Barnes. "You're found guilty of corruption and misconduct within the field of law-enforcement. How do you plead?" Jim couldn't reply, all he could was to gasp for breath.
"Jim guilty of corruption?" Alfred blurted out, still standing over Kathryn. "His 'misconduct' pales in comparison to the evils this woman has committed. This woman that you're trying so hard to rescue."
Nathaniel Barnes turned to Alfred with a genuinely vested interest in what he had said. He lowered Jim to the ground. "And who are you?"
"Alfred Pennyworth, butler under Bruce Wayne's employ. This woman, Kathryn Monroe, is single-handedly responsible for the kidnapping of my employer. If you're a believer in the system, then you'll arrest her first."
Barnes glared at the unconscious Kathryn, dismayed that he couldn't pass a proper sentence on her with her not being consciously in attendance. "Thank you civilian, I'll bear that in mind for when she wakes up."
Still clutching onto Jim's throat, Jim tried desperately to swing a fist at the ex-Captain, but the ex-Captain was decked out like a 15th century knight. Jim knew he wouldn't get anywhere in a fist fight. Like a child with a new toy, Barnes tossed Jim onto a wall behind him and went after Kathryn instead. Jim took the impact to his back, and slipped to the ground, groaning in pain as he went down.
Following that, there was just seconds between Alfred pulling out his own gun, Barnes slashing it into half with a powerful lurch, and knocking Alfred out in the process.
Still recovering from the blow, Jim could only watch on helplessly as Barnes picked Kathryn up, placed her over his shoulder like a large rag-doll, smashed a hole in the wall and left the station through the hole he had made like a lumbering iron gorilla.
Jerome Valeska was enjoying a lazy afternoon, stretched out on his mattress in his cell. Just three cells down the row, Hooper was howling like a dog again. Five more on the other side, Glenda was balancing a mix between crying, laughing and screaming. Occasionally you'd have a guard come in and yell something rough to quieten down the inmates. It rarely ever worked beyond a few seconds though. Like the conductor of some abstractly genius orchestra, Jerome waved his imaginary stick around, melding the sounds into a single rhythmic melody. It was pure gold to his ears - the sounds of utter chaos and insanity.
But just as he was about to drift to the comfortable embrace of sleep, there came the sharp yell of a man dying, the slicing of what sounded like a blade, and a guttural gurgling. Hooper and Glenda quietened down in apprehension, while the sounds only worked to excite him instead. He leapt up, and stuck his nose as far between the tiny little bars that the window in his door allowed him to. Unfortunately he couldn't see crap.
The jiggling of keys followed next, and the beep of the security door getting unlocked. Someone was trying to enter the domain of the musical geniuses. Jerome wanted to know who it was. "Yoo hoo!" he called out. "I spy with my little ear, someone with a little knife... hmm," he gave it some thought. "Switchblade? Or razor? Might need to use my helpline." Glenda began screeching like a bird on steroids. "Thank you for the suggestion Glenda. I'll take that into consideration."
Footsteps down the corridor, right up to his cell. That's when he saw the man who made those sounds. He had a smooth shaven face, gel-ed up hair, very model-esque, Jerome thought - moderately buff build, and dressed up as a prison guard. That moment passed by quickly, but he made certain to remember what he'd seen.
"Ooo, hello there beautiful," he said with a wink as he beamed widely. The intruder didn't reply. Rude... thought Jerome. On the upside though, the man did leave a present behind. Slid under the door was a bloodied switchblade wrapped in a piece of paper. Jerome picked up his gift as the man walked away. "Hey everyone! Christmas' come early!" he boasted proudly to the others.
Gerald, the old guy living directly opposite from him, poked his face out from behind the bars, straining to see what Jerome had been given.
"Guess you wish Santa had visited you too," he said smugly. "Let's not be jealous though, we'll all share a part of this present."
Carefully, he opened the piece of paper that had been given to him. It was smudged with the blood of whoever was gurgling before. The blood went on his fingers, making it shiny and red. Turning his attention back to his present, he picked up the weapon, and noticed there was writing on the piece of paper. Turning it in the correct direction, he proceeded to read the note out loud. "71 Welling Avenue." He turned the paper the other way, there was nothing there. He turned it back. There was just a single line of writing. He frowned - what an anti-climax. "Hmm... 71 Welling Avenue," he repeated loudly, trying to figure out what it meant.
"Seventy one!" Hooper cried out. Glenda followed in sync. And very soon, the two rows of cells were chanting the words '71 Welling Avenue', in a mess of hoots and hollers. In the midst of all the cacophony, the compound alarms were triggered. A few seconds after, the unlocking of their cell doors following a loud beep.
Jerome pushed at the door to his cell that was usually kept sealed - except now it was open. He walked out. So did others living near him. They looked as confused as he was. He slid the knife and the piece of paper into his pocket nonetheless, and began walking down the hall. All the doors were open, even the thick security doors. Peering into the guard room, he noticed three guards stacked on top of each other, and a pool of blood gathering beneath. The monitors were all displaying white static. If Jerome had to guess, the clean shaven guy was likely the one who did all this.
He must be a Bobby, Jerome thought to himself, and all at once determined that Bobby would be his next best friend. Bobby would be hunted down to be personally thanked. Till then though...
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is time to parrrrtaaay!" he exclaimed out loud as the patients of Arkham Asylum increasingly poured into the corridors through unlocked doors, all of them headed for the exit.
Monday, 14 May 2018
Friday, 11 May 2018
Chapter 18
"I've seen the map." Gordon sat across from Kathryn Monroe, who, aside from her complaints of being manhandled, had not betrayed any other emotion on her face. "I know the Court has secret locations across the city. We've been to one of them - with walls up to ten inches thick, and with enough food and water to last someone up to seventy days underground, it's safe to say that the Court is anticipating some kind of major blast in the near future. The question is what kind of a blast are we talking about?"
"What blast?" she asked, feigning ignorance.
He stood up and walked around the table, and sat by her. "What has Bruce Wayne have to do with all of this? Why did you kidnap him?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied smugly.
"They're not all powerful you know. The Court, they can't keep you safe. Besides, what are the members going to think when they see their leader behind bars?"
Kathryn smirked at him. "You think I'm the leader? All this time, and you really don't know anything, do you?"
"Who is it then?" Jim was losing his patience, the woman was just toying with him. "Who controls the Court of Owls?"
She lifted her wrist and read off her pearl encrusted watch. "Keep it up, Detective. I'd say you have approximately fifteen... maybe thirty minutes, just to be generous."
Jim rolled his eyes at her, just as a knock came on the door. It was Harvey. "Sorry to interrupt but the butler's getting testy. I think if we continue to keep him out, he might sock an officer in the eye."
"Ah..." said Jim, using the opportunity to direct his voice towards Kathryn. "Bruce Wayne's butler. The one trained with the SAS, and has some kind of a medal with the British government for the highest number of kills of his squad. That butler."
Kathryn straightened up and appeared to be a little concerned. Harvey quickly picked up on Gordon's lead, and kept up the bluff. "Oh oh... he is dead set on getting back at the people responsible for kidnapping his ward, and inserting a clone to take his place. Just wait till he gets his hands on..." Harvey pretended to just notice Kathryn then. "Oh - isn't that you?"
She glared at Jim in unbelief. "You wouldn't dare! That'd be a violation of civilian rights."
"You said you were expecting someone to come and save you in... fifteen minutes, was it?" Jim asked rhetorically, then turned back to Harvey. "Let him in then, let's make it quick."
"What?!" Kathryn stood up, completely alarmed. "That's preposterous! Lay a finger on me and I'll sue you both to high heavens."
"Hey Jim," said Bullock, grinning from ear to ear. "If Ms Monroe is held by the GCPD under the terrorism act, doesn't that nullify her civilian rights?"
"Oh yeah," Jim replied, resting his hands on his hips. "Thank you for the reminder, Harvey! It seems we'll be having more than fifteen minutes after all."
"Terrorism act?" Kathryn's face was all scrunched up in rage. "You have nothing! You can't hold me based on such false accusations when you are without a shred of proof."
"Oh I'd beg to differ, we do have something," noted Jim, pulling out an envelope that he'd snuck off her property while he was still under cover. He watched her face go pale as he pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it out loud. "Note to the League - The safe-houses are stocked, and the riders are ready to go. Do bear in mind that whatever is left of Gotham after the 'event', will automatically default to the ownership of the members of the Court, or in the case of any of their deaths, to Kathryn Monroe. As stipulated in the prior agreement, you are to play your role, after which will take a step back so the rest of us can take over all remaining property and businesses. The moment that we have secured our hold on all of the above, we will convene for a final time to conclude the terms of our agreement." Jim studied her expression carefully. "So perhaps now you'd like to share with us what is this 'event' that you've referred to in your letter." When she hesitated, he continued. "You could really save yourself a lot of pain." Harvey nodded in agreement.
"You're bluffing..." she said after a while, looking nervously between Harvey and Jim.
Jim shrugged. "Ok send in the butler."
"Be glad to." Harvey shut the door, temporarily leaving Jim and Kathryn alone in the room.
"You're mad!" she exclaimed. "What kind of a corrupt organiza..."
"Actually, I think I can guess what this is about," Jim replied. "The Court is losing the control they once had over the city. The old leaders have passed on, or gone into hiding. The newer generation of underworld leaders don't respect the Court like their elders once did. They play by their own rules, casually bypassing all the gates you'd set up to profit from their transactions and influence them in your favor, leaving the idea of a secret Court; soon to be redundant. This scares all of you to the bone. So you're planning a reset... of sorts. You'd huddle like cowards inside underground bunkers while the city above gets blown to smithereens."
She kept completely solemn till his final line, and a smile began to form on her face. "Let's just say for argument's sake that you're right about us. You'd really think we'd be that sloppy in our execution of said plan?"
Jim leaned back in his chair as he considered the clue that she'd slipped to him, whether by accident or not. "So it isn't a bomb?"
She merely shrugged.
The door flew open then, and Alfred was right in front of Kathryn in the blink of an eye, his hands wrapped around her throat. "You damn chippie! Where did you take my boy?" Kathryn gagged as he shook her around.
"Alfred," Jim said after a while. "I don't think she can breathe."
"Oh," and Alfred released her. She clutched her sore neck as she glared at her attacker in scorn. "Well?"
"He's fine," she declared. "He'll be back soon."
"Where the bloody hell is Bruce?"
She looked at him levelly. "If I were to tell you where he is right now, I'll be dead in no time for opening my mouth, you'll be dead for listening," she motioned towards Jim. "And he'll be dead just for being in attendance."
"Who are these people that you're working for?"
"The League," Jim filled in from what he'd seen in that letter. "Who are they?"
She shook her head. "You already know too much. I'd advise that you not play with fire. Even though I'm no friend of yours, I'll say that I do sincerely mean it."
Alfred and Jim exchanged curious looks. "Wait - how does Bruce Wayne play into this entire picture?" asked Jim.
She settled back in her chair. "Let's just say - he's special."
"What do you mean?"
"He'll be playing a pivotal role in what is to come."
"We're back to this..." sighed Jim in frustration. "What is to come?"
Gunshots blasted through the air just outside that room. Gordon opened the door to check on the station. He was surprised to find smoke. An increasing amount of it that grew only as it moved through the hallway.
He coughed as he shut the door, confused as to what had just occurred.
"Well, better late than never," said Kathryn, presenting the cuffs around her wrists to Gordon as though he had expressed an intent to remove them. "That's my transport. You really should un-cuff me before he slices his way through you in order to get to me."
"What blast?" she asked, feigning ignorance.
He stood up and walked around the table, and sat by her. "What has Bruce Wayne have to do with all of this? Why did you kidnap him?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied smugly.
"They're not all powerful you know. The Court, they can't keep you safe. Besides, what are the members going to think when they see their leader behind bars?"
Kathryn smirked at him. "You think I'm the leader? All this time, and you really don't know anything, do you?"
"Who is it then?" Jim was losing his patience, the woman was just toying with him. "Who controls the Court of Owls?"
She lifted her wrist and read off her pearl encrusted watch. "Keep it up, Detective. I'd say you have approximately fifteen... maybe thirty minutes, just to be generous."
Jim rolled his eyes at her, just as a knock came on the door. It was Harvey. "Sorry to interrupt but the butler's getting testy. I think if we continue to keep him out, he might sock an officer in the eye."
"Ah..." said Jim, using the opportunity to direct his voice towards Kathryn. "Bruce Wayne's butler. The one trained with the SAS, and has some kind of a medal with the British government for the highest number of kills of his squad. That butler."
Kathryn straightened up and appeared to be a little concerned. Harvey quickly picked up on Gordon's lead, and kept up the bluff. "Oh oh... he is dead set on getting back at the people responsible for kidnapping his ward, and inserting a clone to take his place. Just wait till he gets his hands on..." Harvey pretended to just notice Kathryn then. "Oh - isn't that you?"
She glared at Jim in unbelief. "You wouldn't dare! That'd be a violation of civilian rights."
"You said you were expecting someone to come and save you in... fifteen minutes, was it?" Jim asked rhetorically, then turned back to Harvey. "Let him in then, let's make it quick."
"What?!" Kathryn stood up, completely alarmed. "That's preposterous! Lay a finger on me and I'll sue you both to high heavens."
"Hey Jim," said Bullock, grinning from ear to ear. "If Ms Monroe is held by the GCPD under the terrorism act, doesn't that nullify her civilian rights?"
"Oh yeah," Jim replied, resting his hands on his hips. "Thank you for the reminder, Harvey! It seems we'll be having more than fifteen minutes after all."
"Terrorism act?" Kathryn's face was all scrunched up in rage. "You have nothing! You can't hold me based on such false accusations when you are without a shred of proof."
"Oh I'd beg to differ, we do have something," noted Jim, pulling out an envelope that he'd snuck off her property while he was still under cover. He watched her face go pale as he pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it out loud. "Note to the League - The safe-houses are stocked, and the riders are ready to go. Do bear in mind that whatever is left of Gotham after the 'event', will automatically default to the ownership of the members of the Court, or in the case of any of their deaths, to Kathryn Monroe. As stipulated in the prior agreement, you are to play your role, after which will take a step back so the rest of us can take over all remaining property and businesses. The moment that we have secured our hold on all of the above, we will convene for a final time to conclude the terms of our agreement." Jim studied her expression carefully. "So perhaps now you'd like to share with us what is this 'event' that you've referred to in your letter." When she hesitated, he continued. "You could really save yourself a lot of pain." Harvey nodded in agreement.
"You're bluffing..." she said after a while, looking nervously between Harvey and Jim.
Jim shrugged. "Ok send in the butler."
"Be glad to." Harvey shut the door, temporarily leaving Jim and Kathryn alone in the room.
"You're mad!" she exclaimed. "What kind of a corrupt organiza..."
"Actually, I think I can guess what this is about," Jim replied. "The Court is losing the control they once had over the city. The old leaders have passed on, or gone into hiding. The newer generation of underworld leaders don't respect the Court like their elders once did. They play by their own rules, casually bypassing all the gates you'd set up to profit from their transactions and influence them in your favor, leaving the idea of a secret Court; soon to be redundant. This scares all of you to the bone. So you're planning a reset... of sorts. You'd huddle like cowards inside underground bunkers while the city above gets blown to smithereens."
She kept completely solemn till his final line, and a smile began to form on her face. "Let's just say for argument's sake that you're right about us. You'd really think we'd be that sloppy in our execution of said plan?"
Jim leaned back in his chair as he considered the clue that she'd slipped to him, whether by accident or not. "So it isn't a bomb?"
She merely shrugged.
The door flew open then, and Alfred was right in front of Kathryn in the blink of an eye, his hands wrapped around her throat. "You damn chippie! Where did you take my boy?" Kathryn gagged as he shook her around.
"Alfred," Jim said after a while. "I don't think she can breathe."
"Oh," and Alfred released her. She clutched her sore neck as she glared at her attacker in scorn. "Well?"
"He's fine," she declared. "He'll be back soon."
"Where the bloody hell is Bruce?"
She looked at him levelly. "If I were to tell you where he is right now, I'll be dead in no time for opening my mouth, you'll be dead for listening," she motioned towards Jim. "And he'll be dead just for being in attendance."
"Who are these people that you're working for?"
"The League," Jim filled in from what he'd seen in that letter. "Who are they?"
She shook her head. "You already know too much. I'd advise that you not play with fire. Even though I'm no friend of yours, I'll say that I do sincerely mean it."
Alfred and Jim exchanged curious looks. "Wait - how does Bruce Wayne play into this entire picture?" asked Jim.
She settled back in her chair. "Let's just say - he's special."
"What do you mean?"
"He'll be playing a pivotal role in what is to come."
"We're back to this..." sighed Jim in frustration. "What is to come?"
Gunshots blasted through the air just outside that room. Gordon opened the door to check on the station. He was surprised to find smoke. An increasing amount of it that grew only as it moved through the hallway.
He coughed as he shut the door, confused as to what had just occurred.
"Well, better late than never," said Kathryn, presenting the cuffs around her wrists to Gordon as though he had expressed an intent to remove them. "That's my transport. You really should un-cuff me before he slices his way through you in order to get to me."
Thursday, 10 May 2018
Chapter 17
Dawn was soon to approach. Bruce could already see the shades of fuchsia and gold spread across the sky like massive darts, cutting across the dark sky. He'd been pacing the room in his robes, over and over, wearing down the floor beneath him - evaluating his next move, and debating his every decision. Talia was sound asleep where he'd left her, like an angel curled up under the covers. Every time he looked at her he knew he'd messed up. He hadn't planned on getting involved with her. He hadn't intended to form any attachments for anyone in this place. This made it all the harder to leave. The daughter of the Demon himself had offered to help him escape, what better chance could he have been afforded? But he had to muddle the waters because he'd let his emotions overcome him. He bashed a fist into a wall to quell his disappointment in himself.
"B... Beloved?" Talia arose to the sound.
"I'm sorry for waking you," he apologised, stepping back as he loosened his fists.
She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glow in the sky. "It's dawn. You have to go."
"I - " he dropped his head in shame. "I may not be leaving."
"Why not?"
"What we did last night... it's not right that I leave you like this."
She wrapped the sheet around her chest and sat up. "Does that mean you'd agree to marry me?"
He wiped a hand over his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. Thomas Wayne had always taught him to be responsible for his own actions, and to see things through to the bitter end. Marrying Talia would also mean getting permanently chained to the League, to Ra's Al Ghul, and the Court of Owls - the very people responsible for his parents' death. It wasn't a part of his plan, but not doing so would only betray the memory of his own father - too late for regrets. "Yeah, I will."
For a few moments the two of them sat in silence, pondering their potential future together. And after sometime came a, "No."
Bruce looked at Talia questioningly.
"No," she said again. "I know you feel some kind of pity for me. I don't need your pity."
"I don't.."
She cut him off. "Yesterday, I offered to help you escape, my mind has not changed."
"Talia," he moved to her side and took her hand. "I - I know this isn't ideal, but I will learn to enjoy the thought of marrying you, and... of being your father's heir. I just need a bit of time to adjust to the idea."
"No," she continued, her expression even more certain than before. She got up, and began putting on the garments she had on the day before."You will leave here, beloved, with my help. You will go back to Gotham City, and you will be free of the control of my father."
When he was just about to make his case, she interjected, "This is my decision. Since I was a child, my father has never allowed me to make any major decisions on my own. Let this be my first. Give me this opportunity to make a choice for myself."
Bruce studied her closely, hesitated, and only when he knew for sure that she was certain of the choice that she was about to make, agreed.
There was a sense of relief on her face. She turned a cheek to him, and pointed at it. "Now I need you to hit me hard so we can sell this to Father," she instructed.
He took a while to consider how he'd approach her instruction, struggled to do as she'd asked, and finally found that he couldn't possibly. "I can't bring myself to hurt you," he admitted. "Isn't there another way?"
Talia smiled reassuringly at him and nodded - then she walked over to an empty wall, and with a heave, smashed her forehead into it. She did it again.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered with a wince, feeling her every blow as though it was done to him.
She held up a hand to silence his concerns. "This is my choice, beloved. Don't blame yourself." Then she put her hand onto the side of her throat and dug in with her nails, causing skin to peel, and welts of blood to form.
When that was done, she walked to a steel chest that had a silk draping over it, pulled out a key from a hidden pocket in her garments, and opened the chest. Within it were two pairs of winter clothing; snow shoes, thick woolen gloves, scarves, ski masks, and even a compass. She pulled out one set, together with the compass, and handed it to him. "Put this on," she instructed. "Do it quickly."
He received the folded garments, and began to put them on - even as he kept his eye on the other set in the box. "What if you were to come with me? Join me in Gotham. You could be free to make all of your own decisions. I swear I will make sure that you're protected."
"But my place is here, beloved," she replied without hesitation. "I may not always agree with Father making the decisions for me, but he is Ra's Al Ghul, and my duty is to serve him. I do it gladly."
"Except now," he reminded her.
"Except now," she agreed. "But I intend to make this the one and only time I disobey him."
"I don't suppose you're open to changing your mind?" he asked. He didn't think she would, but he had to admire the amount of loyalty she had to her deranged father. It was blind loyalty, but loyalty nonetheless.
"I'm not, beloved," she chuckled, slightly amused at his insistence. Moving quickly about the room, she busied herself removing the silk curtains from the balcony, and knitting them together with the sheets on the bed. "All I ask is you promise me one thing," she said in the midst of all this.
"What is it?"
"That you never tell a soul about my father, about me, or about the League of Shadows. No one must know of us or our existence." She looked directly at him, searching for a verification of assurance in his response. "Do it for me."
During the time he spent alone, Bruce had made a mental list of people he knew who would be interested to find out all about the secret compound in Nanda Parbat, and all that was done in it. When he shut his eyes, he imagined over and over again, how he would explain to them how he'd spent the five months in captivity, and all about Lady Shiva, Ra's Al Ghul and everyone else he'd met on that mountain top. But as much as he had his speeches all written in his head, ready to go - he felt the debt he owed to Talia should motivate him to cancel all of those plans. After that day, he would owe her not just his life, but his freedom as well. "I'll do that for you, Talia. Only for you. But I can't figure out how I'd explain my lengthy absence to anyone who asks?"
"First," she said, as she secured the make-shift rope to the base of an iron railing at the balcony. "Your absence hasn't become widely known as of yet, due to the clone who's been instructed to take your place since you've arrived here. Second, you must not allow the small pool of people who have just found out about your disappearance, to make this public knowledge. Make up an excuse - indict the Court of Owls if you have to. Be creative."
It was odd to hear her mention the Court of Owls, and suggest that he throw them under the bus in such a manner. For all intents and purposes, he'd assumed that they were allies and had been working very closely together. At the same time, it reminded him of a question that he'd meant to ask that he hadn't found the opportunity for. "Talia, there's been something that's been bugging me for a while now, I hope that you can help me get this clarified, once and for all - was it your father who called for the hit on Thomas and Martha Wayne?"
Talia tugged on the rope firmly and stood up to look at him straight in the eyes. "No, it was the Court who ordered it. It is to my knowledge that your father, Thomas Wayne, discovered some secrets they meant to keep hidden, and this cost him his life. It was, however, due to this tragedy that eventually put you on Father's radar. And years later, he would seek you out as the one written about in the prophecies - the one that had appeared in his dream. His association with the Court only begins and ends with him requesting for you to be delivered to him, and the clone to take your place."
"Ironic isn't it," stated Bruce coldly, just thinking about how he'd been moved about without any consent, like he was commodity. "That the principle your father preaches about eliminating oppression has been so easily compromised by his association with people who make a living out of oppressing the poor in order to prop themselves up."
"Unfortunately, in order to fix a broken system, one must be prepared to get one's hands dirty. Father had to do what has been done in order to save you."
Bruce raised a brow. "Save me?" It seemed like a poor choice of words. Kidnapping had rarely anything to do with saving the victim.
"To provide you the skills needed for you to survive the catastrophic event that is to come - so that you can in turn, rise up to save Gotham. Otherwise the city will be lost just as it was in 1728, except this time, it will be worse."
"And both you and your father are certain of this fate?" Talia's certainty only sealed his own acceptance of Dr. Welkin's theory.
"With unwavering certainty. My father never gets a prediction wrong."
"Does the Court know what is to happen to Gotham?" he asked, doubting that someone as wealthy as Kathryn would be too happy about such a prophecy.
Talia smiled widely like she knew something that the Court might not. "They know enough."
"Something that I still can't understand. What does your father hope to achieve from all of this?"
"He means for you to serve the League's purposes when you rise to rule over the new Gotham. I'm confident that you may still choose to do so, on your own accord."
"I'm sorry," Bruce looked away. "But I can neither see myself ruling Gotham, nor bending the knee to the League of Shadows. Whatever this prophecy is about - it's wrong."
She put a hand on his chin and pulled it slowly towards her. "Time will tell, beloved. You say that you are, but I don't think you're done with us yet."
"We'll have to see about that. Perhaps someday I'll come back for you," he said with a smile, wrapping his arms around Talia to embrace her with a kiss. She leaned into him, just for a bit, though her kiss ended a little more abruptly than he'd anticipated - as though there was some measure of finality to it.
He watched her curiously as she took the time to gather her thoughts before speaking, "One final thing, beloved. The moment you make it down to the glacier, head into the woods and keep south on your compass, do not deviate. Listen for the sounds of the Ganga river - it will eventually lead you to the border between Tibet and India. Tell the authorities that you'll find there that you're American and ask to be sent to the embassy."
Bruce turned around to see that the half-domed sun was already beginning its climb, time was getting scarce, and he didn't want to have to fight a dozen members of the League in order to get free. "Thank you Talia... for everything." He gratefully clasped her hands in his.
"Goodbye, beloved. I won't soon forget you."
He gazed into her bright brown eyes for the final time, "Nor I, you, Talia Al Ghul."
"B... Beloved?" Talia arose to the sound.
"I'm sorry for waking you," he apologised, stepping back as he loosened his fists.
She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glow in the sky. "It's dawn. You have to go."
"I - " he dropped his head in shame. "I may not be leaving."
"Why not?"
"What we did last night... it's not right that I leave you like this."
She wrapped the sheet around her chest and sat up. "Does that mean you'd agree to marry me?"
He wiped a hand over his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. Thomas Wayne had always taught him to be responsible for his own actions, and to see things through to the bitter end. Marrying Talia would also mean getting permanently chained to the League, to Ra's Al Ghul, and the Court of Owls - the very people responsible for his parents' death. It wasn't a part of his plan, but not doing so would only betray the memory of his own father - too late for regrets. "Yeah, I will."
For a few moments the two of them sat in silence, pondering their potential future together. And after sometime came a, "No."
Bruce looked at Talia questioningly.
"No," she said again. "I know you feel some kind of pity for me. I don't need your pity."
"I don't.."
She cut him off. "Yesterday, I offered to help you escape, my mind has not changed."
"Talia," he moved to her side and took her hand. "I - I know this isn't ideal, but I will learn to enjoy the thought of marrying you, and... of being your father's heir. I just need a bit of time to adjust to the idea."
"No," she continued, her expression even more certain than before. She got up, and began putting on the garments she had on the day before."You will leave here, beloved, with my help. You will go back to Gotham City, and you will be free of the control of my father."
When he was just about to make his case, she interjected, "This is my decision. Since I was a child, my father has never allowed me to make any major decisions on my own. Let this be my first. Give me this opportunity to make a choice for myself."
Bruce studied her closely, hesitated, and only when he knew for sure that she was certain of the choice that she was about to make, agreed.
There was a sense of relief on her face. She turned a cheek to him, and pointed at it. "Now I need you to hit me hard so we can sell this to Father," she instructed.
He took a while to consider how he'd approach her instruction, struggled to do as she'd asked, and finally found that he couldn't possibly. "I can't bring myself to hurt you," he admitted. "Isn't there another way?"
Talia smiled reassuringly at him and nodded - then she walked over to an empty wall, and with a heave, smashed her forehead into it. She did it again.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered with a wince, feeling her every blow as though it was done to him.
She held up a hand to silence his concerns. "This is my choice, beloved. Don't blame yourself." Then she put her hand onto the side of her throat and dug in with her nails, causing skin to peel, and welts of blood to form.
When that was done, she walked to a steel chest that had a silk draping over it, pulled out a key from a hidden pocket in her garments, and opened the chest. Within it were two pairs of winter clothing; snow shoes, thick woolen gloves, scarves, ski masks, and even a compass. She pulled out one set, together with the compass, and handed it to him. "Put this on," she instructed. "Do it quickly."
He received the folded garments, and began to put them on - even as he kept his eye on the other set in the box. "What if you were to come with me? Join me in Gotham. You could be free to make all of your own decisions. I swear I will make sure that you're protected."
"But my place is here, beloved," she replied without hesitation. "I may not always agree with Father making the decisions for me, but he is Ra's Al Ghul, and my duty is to serve him. I do it gladly."
"Except now," he reminded her.
"Except now," she agreed. "But I intend to make this the one and only time I disobey him."
"I don't suppose you're open to changing your mind?" he asked. He didn't think she would, but he had to admire the amount of loyalty she had to her deranged father. It was blind loyalty, but loyalty nonetheless.
"I'm not, beloved," she chuckled, slightly amused at his insistence. Moving quickly about the room, she busied herself removing the silk curtains from the balcony, and knitting them together with the sheets on the bed. "All I ask is you promise me one thing," she said in the midst of all this.
"What is it?"
"That you never tell a soul about my father, about me, or about the League of Shadows. No one must know of us or our existence." She looked directly at him, searching for a verification of assurance in his response. "Do it for me."
During the time he spent alone, Bruce had made a mental list of people he knew who would be interested to find out all about the secret compound in Nanda Parbat, and all that was done in it. When he shut his eyes, he imagined over and over again, how he would explain to them how he'd spent the five months in captivity, and all about Lady Shiva, Ra's Al Ghul and everyone else he'd met on that mountain top. But as much as he had his speeches all written in his head, ready to go - he felt the debt he owed to Talia should motivate him to cancel all of those plans. After that day, he would owe her not just his life, but his freedom as well. "I'll do that for you, Talia. Only for you. But I can't figure out how I'd explain my lengthy absence to anyone who asks?"
"First," she said, as she secured the make-shift rope to the base of an iron railing at the balcony. "Your absence hasn't become widely known as of yet, due to the clone who's been instructed to take your place since you've arrived here. Second, you must not allow the small pool of people who have just found out about your disappearance, to make this public knowledge. Make up an excuse - indict the Court of Owls if you have to. Be creative."
It was odd to hear her mention the Court of Owls, and suggest that he throw them under the bus in such a manner. For all intents and purposes, he'd assumed that they were allies and had been working very closely together. At the same time, it reminded him of a question that he'd meant to ask that he hadn't found the opportunity for. "Talia, there's been something that's been bugging me for a while now, I hope that you can help me get this clarified, once and for all - was it your father who called for the hit on Thomas and Martha Wayne?"
Talia tugged on the rope firmly and stood up to look at him straight in the eyes. "No, it was the Court who ordered it. It is to my knowledge that your father, Thomas Wayne, discovered some secrets they meant to keep hidden, and this cost him his life. It was, however, due to this tragedy that eventually put you on Father's radar. And years later, he would seek you out as the one written about in the prophecies - the one that had appeared in his dream. His association with the Court only begins and ends with him requesting for you to be delivered to him, and the clone to take your place."
"Ironic isn't it," stated Bruce coldly, just thinking about how he'd been moved about without any consent, like he was commodity. "That the principle your father preaches about eliminating oppression has been so easily compromised by his association with people who make a living out of oppressing the poor in order to prop themselves up."
"Unfortunately, in order to fix a broken system, one must be prepared to get one's hands dirty. Father had to do what has been done in order to save you."
Bruce raised a brow. "Save me?" It seemed like a poor choice of words. Kidnapping had rarely anything to do with saving the victim.
"To provide you the skills needed for you to survive the catastrophic event that is to come - so that you can in turn, rise up to save Gotham. Otherwise the city will be lost just as it was in 1728, except this time, it will be worse."
"And both you and your father are certain of this fate?" Talia's certainty only sealed his own acceptance of Dr. Welkin's theory.
"With unwavering certainty. My father never gets a prediction wrong."
"Does the Court know what is to happen to Gotham?" he asked, doubting that someone as wealthy as Kathryn would be too happy about such a prophecy.
Talia smiled widely like she knew something that the Court might not. "They know enough."
"Something that I still can't understand. What does your father hope to achieve from all of this?"
"He means for you to serve the League's purposes when you rise to rule over the new Gotham. I'm confident that you may still choose to do so, on your own accord."
"I'm sorry," Bruce looked away. "But I can neither see myself ruling Gotham, nor bending the knee to the League of Shadows. Whatever this prophecy is about - it's wrong."
She put a hand on his chin and pulled it slowly towards her. "Time will tell, beloved. You say that you are, but I don't think you're done with us yet."
"We'll have to see about that. Perhaps someday I'll come back for you," he said with a smile, wrapping his arms around Talia to embrace her with a kiss. She leaned into him, just for a bit, though her kiss ended a little more abruptly than he'd anticipated - as though there was some measure of finality to it.
He watched her curiously as she took the time to gather her thoughts before speaking, "One final thing, beloved. The moment you make it down to the glacier, head into the woods and keep south on your compass, do not deviate. Listen for the sounds of the Ganga river - it will eventually lead you to the border between Tibet and India. Tell the authorities that you'll find there that you're American and ask to be sent to the embassy."
Bruce turned around to see that the half-domed sun was already beginning its climb, time was getting scarce, and he didn't want to have to fight a dozen members of the League in order to get free. "Thank you Talia... for everything." He gratefully clasped her hands in his.
"Goodbye, beloved. I won't soon forget you."
He gazed into her bright brown eyes for the final time, "Nor I, you, Talia Al Ghul."
Wednesday, 9 May 2018
Chapter 16
Selina wasn't getting very far in the search for Bruce's whereabouts. If she'd to make an estimation, it'd be coming to six months since that last encounter under the highway. By then, any trace of Bruce's disappearance would've been washed away with the rain, or with the shuffling of weekday foot traffic. The worst part about it was that she'd been so mad at him that she hadn't even hung around long enough to see which direction he might've been headed in. Wandering aimlessly up and down alleyways near that open space was turning out to be a great waste of time. None of the homeless huddled down in that area seemed to know a thing either - or they were simply too wasted to form a proper sentence. Her best bet with Sonny had ended in some joke about his guys ripping into the 'rich boy' - didn't seem to know anything beyond then. He made it clear that Bruce was perfectly intact when he'd left though.
"Why'd you ask me here if you were going to be this way?" Bruce asked, in the recesses of her memory.
"What are you talking about?"
"The note you left in my mailbox."
"I didn't leave any note."
She bit a lip as she headed out of the alley. It hadn't occurred to her then that something might've been off. She had assumed he'd be just fine then, even against Sonny's guys - or maybe she just didn't give a damn at the time. Not like she did now. She kicked a stray can at the side of the road, causing a ruckus as it rolled along the pavement. Or perhaps she was just being dumb, guilt-tripping herself over something that really didn't concern her.
A black Ford suddenly pulled up next to her, and the window wound itself down. "Selina!" Tabitha stuck her head out, her eyes opened large. "Where the hell have you been? You've been missing for more than a week. I was beginning to think you were dead."
As surprised as she was at Tabitha turning up like that, she couldn't help but feel appreciative that someone had been looking for her. It hadn't even occurred to her that Tabs would. Through the time she'd spent with the last of the Galavans, she'd picked up quite a bit about running a business, techniques of self-defense and spotting bluffs. But it'd always been more of a unofficial arrangement, maybe even a slight inconvenience for Tabitha. She had never struck Selina as the sentimental type, but maybe... just maybe, she could've been wrong about her. "I had a personal... situation," Selina replied, as she recalled what had happened with Five - and then with Ivy in the hospital.
"A what..." Tabs asked, but continued speaking before Selina could explain. "A ton of things happened while you were away. Penguin and your friend Ivy are trying to wrangle the club out from under us with some legal bullcrap and a bunch of lawyers. Barbara's going mad, threatening bloody murder - made us a temporary alliance with Ed Nygma, which has only worsened things."
"Ivy was involved?"
"Yeah, that bitch. Working completely under Penguin's thumb." Tabitha only stopped to open the backdoor. "Get in. She's your friend, you talk to her."
During the car ride, Tabitha furnished Selina on all the details on the apparent Cobblepot-Nygma feud. She stressed on the point that she had been immensely pissed that Barbara, in her desperation to keep the club, had gone over her head and gotten themselves involved in that whole drama. "She's not listening to Butch or me. It's like this club has become her obsession. I mean... it'd be seriously wacked if we lost it to Oswald at this point, but Barbara.." Tabitha sighed. "She's barking orders at us all - like completely without respect. I don't know if I can take it any longer. She promised an equal partnership deal at the start, but now she's.... pffft"
Selina shrugged, "Hey, sometimes you've just got to put your foot down."
"You think so?" Tabitha sighed again. "I don't know what I'm more upset about. Possibly losing the club, or getting completely overlooked." She turned into 23 Oaklane, and came to a stop before a row of apartments.
"Wait... we're seeing Ivy now?" asked Selina. She hadn't sorted out the thoughts in her head, partially in regards to Ivy saving her life, and while indebted to her, be demanding action on her part to stop the Penguin deal.
Tabitha looked at her questioningly. "Why not? I've been driving around town trying to burn off some steam - now that you're here, we might as well put the time to good use."
Selina shot Tabby a look. Tabitha hadn't gone out with the intention of searching for her. Selina couldn't help but feel a bit foolish about thinking otherwise. Maybe it was better this way. After all, Selina's own motives for following Tabitha around weren't exactly pure either.
"Selina!" cried Ivy, embracing her with a hug. There seemed to be no ill-will with her, even though Selina had practically stormed out of the hospital without a word of thanks. "I'm so glad that you're alright. You gave me quite the scare when you left like that."
"Uh... thanks Ivy," she replied as she got the breath squeezed out of her. "And thanks for that... whatever you did at the hospital."
"Hospital?" Tabitha cut in. "You didn't tell me you were in the hospital."
"She was! She almost died!" Ivy exclaimed, albeit a little dramatically. Selina didn't think it could've been that bad.
"We're not here about that though. It seems that Penguin wants to take over the Sirens club, and Tabs here isn't too happy about that."
Ivy nodded, her expression quickly transitioning to what Selina would coin; a serious business-like face. There were times Ivy would unintentionally make her want to snigger - she had the appearance of a fully grown woman, and yet still perfectly resembled the fourteen-year-old girl she was on the inside. "Yeah," said Ivy. "Penguin says the club used to belong to him. Said he's going to fight to his last breath to keep it that way."
Tabitha lunged at Ivy, almost lifting her at the base of her collar. "Except it's not! It belongs to us, you twit!"
Ivy gasped helplessly, and it took Selina to separate them. "Quit it you two!" Then directly to Tabitha, "Can I talk to Ivy alone?" Tabby glared at Selina, then at Ivy, then back at Selina. Selina wasn't backing down. "I'll get to the bottom of this, trust me."
Tabitha finally relented, and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.
"Why do you hang out with someone like that?" complained Ivy as she straightened her collar.
"Why do YOU hang out with that loser Oswald?" Selina retorted. For a moment, they looked hard at each other.
"I guess we just have bad taste in friends," said Ivy after some thought.
Selina had to chuckle out loud. "I'm learning a lot from Tabby though."
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, "I'm learning a lot from Oswald too!" Then her smile fell. "Can't help the feeling that I'm being used though."
Selina sighed as she glanced absently at the door. "Same here. Look, I don't want to cause any trouble, but Tabby ain't getting off my back till I get you to sabotage your boss."
"Why would I do that?"
The truth was that Selina didn't have a reason, apart from one. "Because he treats you like trash?"
Ivy didn't look too pleased at the suggestion. "Pengy might kill me for betraying him. Does it even matter to you?"
Selina let out another sigh. Ivy was right. How could she betray one friend for another? "I'm sorry, I'm just trying so hard to climb up the ladder - get somewhere, you know? I've never been in a position that demanded respect. Always been this street rut that nobody gives a damn about."
"Heyyy..." Ivy touched her on the shoulder. "I give a damn about you."
A smile lit up Selina's face. Ivy was right, if she had one friend in the world, it was her. "Maybe we should just let the adults fight it out. I mean... I just came out of a coma," she laughed lightly. "Give me a break."
Ivy laughed too. "Yeah, who cares about a damned club?"
Selina looked around the room, it was like a jungle in Ivy's apartment. Plants in every corner of the room. Colored flowers and fruits all crying for attention. "Maybe you should leave Penguin and start a botanical shop."
"Mmm..." Ivy agreed. "Speaking of... I've been taking up night classes at the Gotham University on horticulture-chemistry. Because nobody would let a fourteen-year-old in, I had to create a false identity and all that - that's something Pengy helped me with." She dug into her pocket, produced a red-leather wallet, and took a card out of it, presenting it proudly to Selina.
Selina read off the card. "Pamela Isley. Twenty-three years old." She chuckled. "Pamela?"
"Uh-huh! I picked out the name myself. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
With a shrug, Selina returned the card. "Why do you even need classes though? You have the greenest fingers of anyone that I know."
Ivy grinned. "I've always wanted to study about plants - I mean I've done a lot of reading on the subject, and a bit of experimentation. But to actually go to classes - it's like going to Disneyland everyday for me. That's what enabled me to help you out of your coma."
"You have a real talent Ivy, I'm happy for you." As much as Selina was pleased for her friend, she couldn't help feeling a pang of envy. Ivy knew for certain what she wanted to do with her life, but she couldn't say the same for herself. And she still had Tabitha she had to pacify. She wasn't going to be happy to hear that Ivy wasn't going to be doing anything for them. Just thinking about it made Selina groan. She stood up. "Hey, I'm going to get going. It was nice catching up."
"Yeah it was." Ivy beamed. "Know what, I might really give that botanical shop a shot. Pengy's taught me a lot about starting a business, doesn't sound too complicated."
"Make sure you invite me for the opening," teased Selina. In the midst of falling from a building, Bruce's disappearance and possibly losing the club, Ivy getting a shop of her own felt like a nice distraction. Maybe things would work out fine in the end for all parties.
She could only hope.
"Why'd you ask me here if you were going to be this way?" Bruce asked, in the recesses of her memory.
"What are you talking about?"
"The note you left in my mailbox."
"I didn't leave any note."
She bit a lip as she headed out of the alley. It hadn't occurred to her then that something might've been off. She had assumed he'd be just fine then, even against Sonny's guys - or maybe she just didn't give a damn at the time. Not like she did now. She kicked a stray can at the side of the road, causing a ruckus as it rolled along the pavement. Or perhaps she was just being dumb, guilt-tripping herself over something that really didn't concern her.
A black Ford suddenly pulled up next to her, and the window wound itself down. "Selina!" Tabitha stuck her head out, her eyes opened large. "Where the hell have you been? You've been missing for more than a week. I was beginning to think you were dead."
As surprised as she was at Tabitha turning up like that, she couldn't help but feel appreciative that someone had been looking for her. It hadn't even occurred to her that Tabs would. Through the time she'd spent with the last of the Galavans, she'd picked up quite a bit about running a business, techniques of self-defense and spotting bluffs. But it'd always been more of a unofficial arrangement, maybe even a slight inconvenience for Tabitha. She had never struck Selina as the sentimental type, but maybe... just maybe, she could've been wrong about her. "I had a personal... situation," Selina replied, as she recalled what had happened with Five - and then with Ivy in the hospital.
"A what..." Tabs asked, but continued speaking before Selina could explain. "A ton of things happened while you were away. Penguin and your friend Ivy are trying to wrangle the club out from under us with some legal bullcrap and a bunch of lawyers. Barbara's going mad, threatening bloody murder - made us a temporary alliance with Ed Nygma, which has only worsened things."
"Ivy was involved?"
"Yeah, that bitch. Working completely under Penguin's thumb." Tabitha only stopped to open the backdoor. "Get in. She's your friend, you talk to her."
During the car ride, Tabitha furnished Selina on all the details on the apparent Cobblepot-Nygma feud. She stressed on the point that she had been immensely pissed that Barbara, in her desperation to keep the club, had gone over her head and gotten themselves involved in that whole drama. "She's not listening to Butch or me. It's like this club has become her obsession. I mean... it'd be seriously wacked if we lost it to Oswald at this point, but Barbara.." Tabitha sighed. "She's barking orders at us all - like completely without respect. I don't know if I can take it any longer. She promised an equal partnership deal at the start, but now she's.... pffft"
Selina shrugged, "Hey, sometimes you've just got to put your foot down."
"You think so?" Tabitha sighed again. "I don't know what I'm more upset about. Possibly losing the club, or getting completely overlooked." She turned into 23 Oaklane, and came to a stop before a row of apartments.
"Wait... we're seeing Ivy now?" asked Selina. She hadn't sorted out the thoughts in her head, partially in regards to Ivy saving her life, and while indebted to her, be demanding action on her part to stop the Penguin deal.
Tabitha looked at her questioningly. "Why not? I've been driving around town trying to burn off some steam - now that you're here, we might as well put the time to good use."
Selina shot Tabby a look. Tabitha hadn't gone out with the intention of searching for her. Selina couldn't help but feel a bit foolish about thinking otherwise. Maybe it was better this way. After all, Selina's own motives for following Tabitha around weren't exactly pure either.
"Selina!" cried Ivy, embracing her with a hug. There seemed to be no ill-will with her, even though Selina had practically stormed out of the hospital without a word of thanks. "I'm so glad that you're alright. You gave me quite the scare when you left like that."
"Uh... thanks Ivy," she replied as she got the breath squeezed out of her. "And thanks for that... whatever you did at the hospital."
"Hospital?" Tabitha cut in. "You didn't tell me you were in the hospital."
"She was! She almost died!" Ivy exclaimed, albeit a little dramatically. Selina didn't think it could've been that bad.
"We're not here about that though. It seems that Penguin wants to take over the Sirens club, and Tabs here isn't too happy about that."
Ivy nodded, her expression quickly transitioning to what Selina would coin; a serious business-like face. There were times Ivy would unintentionally make her want to snigger - she had the appearance of a fully grown woman, and yet still perfectly resembled the fourteen-year-old girl she was on the inside. "Yeah," said Ivy. "Penguin says the club used to belong to him. Said he's going to fight to his last breath to keep it that way."
Tabitha lunged at Ivy, almost lifting her at the base of her collar. "Except it's not! It belongs to us, you twit!"
Ivy gasped helplessly, and it took Selina to separate them. "Quit it you two!" Then directly to Tabitha, "Can I talk to Ivy alone?" Tabby glared at Selina, then at Ivy, then back at Selina. Selina wasn't backing down. "I'll get to the bottom of this, trust me."
Tabitha finally relented, and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.
"Why do you hang out with someone like that?" complained Ivy as she straightened her collar.
"Why do YOU hang out with that loser Oswald?" Selina retorted. For a moment, they looked hard at each other.
"I guess we just have bad taste in friends," said Ivy after some thought.
Selina had to chuckle out loud. "I'm learning a lot from Tabby though."
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, "I'm learning a lot from Oswald too!" Then her smile fell. "Can't help the feeling that I'm being used though."
Selina sighed as she glanced absently at the door. "Same here. Look, I don't want to cause any trouble, but Tabby ain't getting off my back till I get you to sabotage your boss."
"Why would I do that?"
The truth was that Selina didn't have a reason, apart from one. "Because he treats you like trash?"
Ivy didn't look too pleased at the suggestion. "Pengy might kill me for betraying him. Does it even matter to you?"
Selina let out another sigh. Ivy was right. How could she betray one friend for another? "I'm sorry, I'm just trying so hard to climb up the ladder - get somewhere, you know? I've never been in a position that demanded respect. Always been this street rut that nobody gives a damn about."
"Heyyy..." Ivy touched her on the shoulder. "I give a damn about you."
A smile lit up Selina's face. Ivy was right, if she had one friend in the world, it was her. "Maybe we should just let the adults fight it out. I mean... I just came out of a coma," she laughed lightly. "Give me a break."
Ivy laughed too. "Yeah, who cares about a damned club?"
Selina looked around the room, it was like a jungle in Ivy's apartment. Plants in every corner of the room. Colored flowers and fruits all crying for attention. "Maybe you should leave Penguin and start a botanical shop."
"Mmm..." Ivy agreed. "Speaking of... I've been taking up night classes at the Gotham University on horticulture-chemistry. Because nobody would let a fourteen-year-old in, I had to create a false identity and all that - that's something Pengy helped me with." She dug into her pocket, produced a red-leather wallet, and took a card out of it, presenting it proudly to Selina.
Selina read off the card. "Pamela Isley. Twenty-three years old." She chuckled. "Pamela?"
"Uh-huh! I picked out the name myself. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
With a shrug, Selina returned the card. "Why do you even need classes though? You have the greenest fingers of anyone that I know."
Ivy grinned. "I've always wanted to study about plants - I mean I've done a lot of reading on the subject, and a bit of experimentation. But to actually go to classes - it's like going to Disneyland everyday for me. That's what enabled me to help you out of your coma."
"You have a real talent Ivy, I'm happy for you." As much as Selina was pleased for her friend, she couldn't help feeling a pang of envy. Ivy knew for certain what she wanted to do with her life, but she couldn't say the same for herself. And she still had Tabitha she had to pacify. She wasn't going to be happy to hear that Ivy wasn't going to be doing anything for them. Just thinking about it made Selina groan. She stood up. "Hey, I'm going to get going. It was nice catching up."
"Yeah it was." Ivy beamed. "Know what, I might really give that botanical shop a shot. Pengy's taught me a lot about starting a business, doesn't sound too complicated."
"Make sure you invite me for the opening," teased Selina. In the midst of falling from a building, Bruce's disappearance and possibly losing the club, Ivy getting a shop of her own felt like a nice distraction. Maybe things would work out fine in the end for all parties.
She could only hope.
Tuesday, 8 May 2018
Chapter 15
"Yes, yes, thank you!" Harvey Bullock put down the phone and turned to Jim Gordon with a big grin on his face. Good news wasn't easy to come by these days, and he just loved to be the bearer of it. "That was O'Toole. Strike Force beat you to it. They're bringing in Kathryn now. Finally some freaking good news, right?"
Jim heaved a sigh of relief and nodded. The damned woman had sicced a mentally unstable former Captain Barnes on him just a few hours ago because he'd come too close to sniffing out the plans that the Court had kept so well hidden. Unfortunately, in the struggle, Barnes had also destroyed the blueprint that would've been used for said purpose.
"Gordon!" That voice sounded familiar. Jim noticed Alfred hurrying up the stairs to where he stood. The man looked to be a little battered. "Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been trying to call you all day."
The truth was that he'd been temporarily incapacitated, and held hostage by Barnes till Harvey came to his rescue. But he figured Alfred wouldn't be interested to hear any of his own tales of adventure, at least not right then. "Alfred. What's happened?"
"It's Bruce, he... he's been abducted," he stammered, clearly distraught. The poor butler had had his share of worrisome moments with that kid. Initially they were mostly self-inflicted, but as of late, they seemed to be getting a slew of attacks from people connected to the Wayne Foundation, both from within the firm and from the enemy camp. He always thought that it was an unfair burden to be put upon a young orphan and his guardian, and now he wondered if they'd finally succeeded.
"Oh why?" grumbled Harvey, clearly exhausted. "Why can't anything be easy?"
"I don't know how, but he's definitely gone. And you're not going to believe this, but the people responsible are this shadowy organization that run the whole of Gotham. They're called... uh..."
"The Court of Owls," Jim completed Alfred's sentence, and exchanged looks with Bullock. It became evident that they were all after the same people.
Caught out of the loop, Alfred gave Jim a bewildered look, and Jim decided to shut the doors to his office to speak in private with both Bullock and the butler.
"We've been investigating the Court and a woman named Kathryn Monroe for months now," Jim went on to get Alfred up to speed. "Until this morning, I was working undercover inside the organization."
"Did they ever mention Bruce?" Alfred asked.
"No. Why would they want to kidnap him?"
"Well..." The butler hesitated. "We might've had a bit of.. a run-in early on in the year."
"How long has he been gone?" asked Harvey.
Alfred spoke dismally. "I don't know. Could be several days, several weeks."
"Weeks?!" exclaimed Harvey. "How can the kid be missing for weeks? That's your one freaking job!"
"Don't you think I know that?" Alfred snapped. "They replaced him, alright? With an exact.... clone, created in Indian Hill."
"H-hold on a second. Wait, back up, I thought I heard you say 'clone'."
Alfred didn't back down. "That's 'cos I did."
Harvey had witnessed some strange things in this city, but he'd to admit 'clone' might top them all. "I got to sit down."
"All right," Gordon cut in. As nuts as Alfred sounded, the man had for years been relatively reliable with his reports, and Jim had to think he might be telling the truth. Nevertheless, one thing at a time. They'd have to figure out the Court's next move, and of Bruce's whereabouts. "Let's think this through. Alfred. Is there anything you and Bruce could've done that would've drawn the attention of the Court?"
"Well, we did break into one of their houses to try to find something that would give us leverage against the Court. And all we found was this ridiculous owl thingamajig, which I managed to break."
"Crystal owl?"Jim perked up. He wondered how broken that second owl was, because the first was pretty much a lost cause. "Is there any way it could be reassembled?"
"Why?"
"We found another owl this morning. When you shine a light through it, a map of Gotham appears. We think this indicates the secret 'dwellings' of the Court."
Harvey raised a brow to Jim.
"So Bruce could be in one of these dwellings, right?" surmised Alfred, finally seeing a sliver of hope. "So where's your bloody owl?"
"Uh well, due to circumstances totally beyond our control," replied Harvey, taking a swig out of his brandy. "The owl went kaboom."
"But, if we could reassemble the owl that you stole, maybe we could find Bruce and whatever other plans the Court is dead set on keeping hidden." Jim had carefully used the term 'dwellings' instead of bunkers - mostly because he didn't want get Alfred involved when he hadn't sufficient evidence to back up his suspicions yet. But the truth was that the 10-inch walled bunker that Harvey and him had stumbled upon earlier in the day, had been recently spruced up and restocked, likely to survive some ominous event that was to come.
"Right," said Alfred, already on board with the plan. "Give me a minute, I'll be back with what we have." He hurried away, as Bullock leaned back in his chair for another swig of brandy.
During Jim's time undercover, the Court had repeatedly referred to a prophecy that would cleanse Gotham. But being the newcomer to these meetings, they'd never disclosed the details. On hindsight, he may have become slightly too impetuous, having accidentally blown his cover in his search for the location of the first bunker. But they'd Kathryn now under police custody, and perhaps she'd be persuaded to provide insight. Or as Plan B, fix Alfred's owl and search them out, one by one.
Jim heaved a sigh of relief and nodded. The damned woman had sicced a mentally unstable former Captain Barnes on him just a few hours ago because he'd come too close to sniffing out the plans that the Court had kept so well hidden. Unfortunately, in the struggle, Barnes had also destroyed the blueprint that would've been used for said purpose.
"Gordon!" That voice sounded familiar. Jim noticed Alfred hurrying up the stairs to where he stood. The man looked to be a little battered. "Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been trying to call you all day."
The truth was that he'd been temporarily incapacitated, and held hostage by Barnes till Harvey came to his rescue. But he figured Alfred wouldn't be interested to hear any of his own tales of adventure, at least not right then. "Alfred. What's happened?"
"It's Bruce, he... he's been abducted," he stammered, clearly distraught. The poor butler had had his share of worrisome moments with that kid. Initially they were mostly self-inflicted, but as of late, they seemed to be getting a slew of attacks from people connected to the Wayne Foundation, both from within the firm and from the enemy camp. He always thought that it was an unfair burden to be put upon a young orphan and his guardian, and now he wondered if they'd finally succeeded.
"Oh why?" grumbled Harvey, clearly exhausted. "Why can't anything be easy?"
"I don't know how, but he's definitely gone. And you're not going to believe this, but the people responsible are this shadowy organization that run the whole of Gotham. They're called... uh..."
"The Court of Owls," Jim completed Alfred's sentence, and exchanged looks with Bullock. It became evident that they were all after the same people.
Caught out of the loop, Alfred gave Jim a bewildered look, and Jim decided to shut the doors to his office to speak in private with both Bullock and the butler.
"We've been investigating the Court and a woman named Kathryn Monroe for months now," Jim went on to get Alfred up to speed. "Until this morning, I was working undercover inside the organization."
"Did they ever mention Bruce?" Alfred asked.
"No. Why would they want to kidnap him?"
"Well..." The butler hesitated. "We might've had a bit of.. a run-in early on in the year."
"How long has he been gone?" asked Harvey.
Alfred spoke dismally. "I don't know. Could be several days, several weeks."
"Weeks?!" exclaimed Harvey. "How can the kid be missing for weeks? That's your one freaking job!"
"Don't you think I know that?" Alfred snapped. "They replaced him, alright? With an exact.... clone, created in Indian Hill."
"H-hold on a second. Wait, back up, I thought I heard you say 'clone'."
Alfred didn't back down. "That's 'cos I did."
Harvey had witnessed some strange things in this city, but he'd to admit 'clone' might top them all. "I got to sit down."
"All right," Gordon cut in. As nuts as Alfred sounded, the man had for years been relatively reliable with his reports, and Jim had to think he might be telling the truth. Nevertheless, one thing at a time. They'd have to figure out the Court's next move, and of Bruce's whereabouts. "Let's think this through. Alfred. Is there anything you and Bruce could've done that would've drawn the attention of the Court?"
"Well, we did break into one of their houses to try to find something that would give us leverage against the Court. And all we found was this ridiculous owl thingamajig, which I managed to break."
"Crystal owl?"Jim perked up. He wondered how broken that second owl was, because the first was pretty much a lost cause. "Is there any way it could be reassembled?"
"Why?"
"We found another owl this morning. When you shine a light through it, a map of Gotham appears. We think this indicates the secret 'dwellings' of the Court."
Harvey raised a brow to Jim.
"So Bruce could be in one of these dwellings, right?" surmised Alfred, finally seeing a sliver of hope. "So where's your bloody owl?"
"Uh well, due to circumstances totally beyond our control," replied Harvey, taking a swig out of his brandy. "The owl went kaboom."
"But, if we could reassemble the owl that you stole, maybe we could find Bruce and whatever other plans the Court is dead set on keeping hidden." Jim had carefully used the term 'dwellings' instead of bunkers - mostly because he didn't want get Alfred involved when he hadn't sufficient evidence to back up his suspicions yet. But the truth was that the 10-inch walled bunker that Harvey and him had stumbled upon earlier in the day, had been recently spruced up and restocked, likely to survive some ominous event that was to come.
"Right," said Alfred, already on board with the plan. "Give me a minute, I'll be back with what we have." He hurried away, as Bullock leaned back in his chair for another swig of brandy.
During Jim's time undercover, the Court had repeatedly referred to a prophecy that would cleanse Gotham. But being the newcomer to these meetings, they'd never disclosed the details. On hindsight, he may have become slightly too impetuous, having accidentally blown his cover in his search for the location of the first bunker. But they'd Kathryn now under police custody, and perhaps she'd be persuaded to provide insight. Or as Plan B, fix Alfred's owl and search them out, one by one.
Monday, 7 May 2018
Chapter 14
The burly man who'd been by the side of Ra's Al Ghul followed Bruce back to the room that he had woken in. Ra's had introduced him simply as Ubu. He spoke little, and each time with a thick middle-eastern accent. For a while, Bruce sat on the bed and watched him as he stood with his back against the door, his thick arms folded across his chest, looking stoically back. It was clear that even though Ra's declared that he wasn't a prisoner, he wasn't allowed to leave. At least not until he accepted the marriage that he did not want, and a permanent place in the League of Shadows that he wasn't keen on either. Accepting Ra's deal would get him back to Gotham, but at the same time, he would be a taking on a whole new form of shackles that he wouldn't be freed from anytime soon. "I was under the impression that I'd be given space to think," he told Ubu. "I can't collect my thoughts with you staring me down like that."
Ubu 'hrrumphed', "I stay. You turn the other way to think. Then you not see me."
Ever so obliging... grumbled Bruce to himself, turning himself around. He considered leaping off the balcony and making another dash for freedom, but there were no beams in this wing of the compound - besides, Ubu standing just an arm's length from him wouldn't make it easy. He wondered how long he'd be guarded this closely. Perhaps if he still refused Ra's offer, he'd be returned to his cell in the other wing. But if Ra's had intended him to escape the first time, he wouldn't be as loose with security this time.
For a while, Bruce considered the thought of spending a much longer time in Nanda Parbat - and the possibility of a cataclysm actually hitting Gotham while he was still away. The details of Dr. Welkin's research came back to mind. He spoke extensively of the dormant fault line not too far away from Gotham that had erupted in 1721, causing half the blossoming town to fall into chaos and ruin.
Gotham was left mostly abandoned for about a decade, aside from criminal nuisance that thrived off the survivors of the quake. It wasn't till 1732 that a group of men from neighboring towns and villages decided to gather and reclaim what had been lost. Together, they managed to get the criminal element under control, and worked tediously to rebuild the city to what it is today. That council of men became the new founding fathers of Gotham - one of which included Hezekiah Wayne, one of his early ancestors.
It was a tale that had almost completely faded to the pages of time, till Dr. Welkin had been alerted to some on and off seismic activity in the past year, and had taken time off to research it properly. With the way Gotham had been constructed since the 1700s, he figured there wasn't a way it would survive the tremors of a quake. Bruce had taken an interest in the Dr's research then, but when he quickly faded off the scene, he could only wonder if it'd been a false alarm or if the authorities had been so convinced of what was to come that they decided to silence him in order not to cause a mass panic.
To add to that, the similarities between Gotham's tragic past, and what Ra's had prophesied was to come, were highly uncanny. Something within his gut told him it was something to be heeded. But would braving those extra shackles be worth the opportunity to go back? Maybe... If it would save a number of lives, then he began to believe that his personal freedom might be worth the cost.
A knock came on the door, and Ubu responded. Talia stood before him. She had a silk wrap with butterfly sleeves on, tied in a bow around her waist, drifting lazily around her ankles as she moved. "Father wants me to guard the chosen one till his visit to his quarters tomorrow," she said.
Ubu 'hrrumphed' again. "Mistress not strong enough to handle if he tries to escape," he complained.
She stood up to him. "Are you questioning the master's decisions?"
Immediately, Ubu backed down, tail between legs. "No Mistress. I will leave you alone." He let her in, departed and shut the door behind him.
The truth was that Bruce was as curious as to the master's decision to leave him with his daughter. "Is that true?" he asked, after he was certain Ubu would be out of earshot.
She nodded slowly. "He took some coaxing, but I managed to have him see that a little more time with me might convince you to change your mind."
Bruce turned around completely to face her. "Look Talia, I don't know about joining the League of Sh..."
"Shhh..." she'd moved onto the bed, pressing a finger onto his lips. When she knew he'd stopped speaking, she bent over his ear and whispered. "I've thought about what you've said, and even though I've never disobeyed Father, I know I won't be able to bear to see you unhappy. I must make a decision, one that will cost me." She leaned away from him. There were tears in her eyes, slipping down the contours of her cheeks.
Surprised at what he had heard, he moved a finger over her cheek to catch a falling tear. "What do you mean, Talia?"
She blushed at his touch, even as she continued in a harsh whisper, "I want to help you escape from here, beloved. You'll be able to leave before you see Father again - because he won't be as generous the second time around."
He dropped his hand. "Then wh... what will happen to you?" He didn't want to think about Talia taking the brunt of Ra's wrath over his escape.
"I will lie, that you overpowered me, and that I could not stop you from leaving. You could hit me, so that he would see the bruises and believe what I say."
Bruce looked at her flawless fair skin, the gentle curve of her face, and her bright brown eyes. He couldn't imagine hitting her anywhere, especially not after what she intended to do for him. "Why would you want to do this? You barely know who I am."
She pressed her hands against his shoulders. She was close enough for her fragrance to taunt him - she smelled like daffodils in spring, drifting lazily under a glowing sun. "Oh I do... I've known you for as long as I've been alive. I might not have been able to touch you then as I do now, but you've been in my heart...." Her tears streamed from her cheek to her chin, settling gently onto his lap. "You've been in my soul, beloved. We were meant to be together. I've waited for you for so long. But if you don't want to be with me, I can't possibly force you to stay."
"Talia..." His resistance against her was weakening, as her arms wrapped themselves around his back, and she touched his nose with hers. Electricity sparkled as he leaned into her and they met in a passionate kiss. A voice deep within him cried that he should not be kissing her, not the daughter of his captor. But being in her arms made him forget - just for those few precious moments. Deeper and deeper they fell into an embrace, as garments slipped to the floor and he soon felt the warmth of her soft skin, and the quickened breaths against his chest.
Night fell like a dark cloak and hid them there between the sheets - away from the grasp of Ra's Al Ghul, away from Bruce's destiny, away from everything that he knew.
Ubu 'hrrumphed', "I stay. You turn the other way to think. Then you not see me."
Ever so obliging... grumbled Bruce to himself, turning himself around. He considered leaping off the balcony and making another dash for freedom, but there were no beams in this wing of the compound - besides, Ubu standing just an arm's length from him wouldn't make it easy. He wondered how long he'd be guarded this closely. Perhaps if he still refused Ra's offer, he'd be returned to his cell in the other wing. But if Ra's had intended him to escape the first time, he wouldn't be as loose with security this time.
For a while, Bruce considered the thought of spending a much longer time in Nanda Parbat - and the possibility of a cataclysm actually hitting Gotham while he was still away. The details of Dr. Welkin's research came back to mind. He spoke extensively of the dormant fault line not too far away from Gotham that had erupted in 1721, causing half the blossoming town to fall into chaos and ruin.
Gotham was left mostly abandoned for about a decade, aside from criminal nuisance that thrived off the survivors of the quake. It wasn't till 1732 that a group of men from neighboring towns and villages decided to gather and reclaim what had been lost. Together, they managed to get the criminal element under control, and worked tediously to rebuild the city to what it is today. That council of men became the new founding fathers of Gotham - one of which included Hezekiah Wayne, one of his early ancestors.
It was a tale that had almost completely faded to the pages of time, till Dr. Welkin had been alerted to some on and off seismic activity in the past year, and had taken time off to research it properly. With the way Gotham had been constructed since the 1700s, he figured there wasn't a way it would survive the tremors of a quake. Bruce had taken an interest in the Dr's research then, but when he quickly faded off the scene, he could only wonder if it'd been a false alarm or if the authorities had been so convinced of what was to come that they decided to silence him in order not to cause a mass panic.
To add to that, the similarities between Gotham's tragic past, and what Ra's had prophesied was to come, were highly uncanny. Something within his gut told him it was something to be heeded. But would braving those extra shackles be worth the opportunity to go back? Maybe... If it would save a number of lives, then he began to believe that his personal freedom might be worth the cost.
A knock came on the door, and Ubu responded. Talia stood before him. She had a silk wrap with butterfly sleeves on, tied in a bow around her waist, drifting lazily around her ankles as she moved. "Father wants me to guard the chosen one till his visit to his quarters tomorrow," she said.
Ubu 'hrrumphed' again. "Mistress not strong enough to handle if he tries to escape," he complained.
She stood up to him. "Are you questioning the master's decisions?"
Immediately, Ubu backed down, tail between legs. "No Mistress. I will leave you alone." He let her in, departed and shut the door behind him.
The truth was that Bruce was as curious as to the master's decision to leave him with his daughter. "Is that true?" he asked, after he was certain Ubu would be out of earshot.
She nodded slowly. "He took some coaxing, but I managed to have him see that a little more time with me might convince you to change your mind."
Bruce turned around completely to face her. "Look Talia, I don't know about joining the League of Sh..."
"Shhh..." she'd moved onto the bed, pressing a finger onto his lips. When she knew he'd stopped speaking, she bent over his ear and whispered. "I've thought about what you've said, and even though I've never disobeyed Father, I know I won't be able to bear to see you unhappy. I must make a decision, one that will cost me." She leaned away from him. There were tears in her eyes, slipping down the contours of her cheeks.
Surprised at what he had heard, he moved a finger over her cheek to catch a falling tear. "What do you mean, Talia?"
She blushed at his touch, even as she continued in a harsh whisper, "I want to help you escape from here, beloved. You'll be able to leave before you see Father again - because he won't be as generous the second time around."
He dropped his hand. "Then wh... what will happen to you?" He didn't want to think about Talia taking the brunt of Ra's wrath over his escape.
"I will lie, that you overpowered me, and that I could not stop you from leaving. You could hit me, so that he would see the bruises and believe what I say."
Bruce looked at her flawless fair skin, the gentle curve of her face, and her bright brown eyes. He couldn't imagine hitting her anywhere, especially not after what she intended to do for him. "Why would you want to do this? You barely know who I am."
She pressed her hands against his shoulders. She was close enough for her fragrance to taunt him - she smelled like daffodils in spring, drifting lazily under a glowing sun. "Oh I do... I've known you for as long as I've been alive. I might not have been able to touch you then as I do now, but you've been in my heart...." Her tears streamed from her cheek to her chin, settling gently onto his lap. "You've been in my soul, beloved. We were meant to be together. I've waited for you for so long. But if you don't want to be with me, I can't possibly force you to stay."
"Talia..." His resistance against her was weakening, as her arms wrapped themselves around his back, and she touched his nose with hers. Electricity sparkled as he leaned into her and they met in a passionate kiss. A voice deep within him cried that he should not be kissing her, not the daughter of his captor. But being in her arms made him forget - just for those few precious moments. Deeper and deeper they fell into an embrace, as garments slipped to the floor and he soon felt the warmth of her soft skin, and the quickened breaths against his chest.
Night fell like a dark cloak and hid them there between the sheets - away from the grasp of Ra's Al Ghul, away from Bruce's destiny, away from everything that he knew.
Chapter 13
It was evening at the time Talia led Bruce out of the room they had been in. He noticed that he was in a wing of the mountain-top structure he hadn't been to, despite being marched up and down the compound for five months continuously. The war room, great hall, air-well and cells were oriental themed, though mostly functional. The new wing, on the other hand, was draped in silk curtains, painted tiles and reflected what seemed to be dome-like Iranian architecture. The walkway that they crossed consisted of large onion-shaped arches with round perches that overlooked a picturesque landscape - no bars nor iron gates in sight. The low parapets welcomed him to their side, paving a way that would lead him home.
He turned to see her watching him intently, waiting for him patiently. It was then he realised that he had stopped completely, his attention caught by the arches facing out. "I uh.. I'm sorry," he hurried over to her side, embarrassed by the undue distraction.
"You're thinking of going out there again?" she observed quietly.
Something about her felt trustworthy, although he knew that being too forthright with the daughter of his captor would probably be a poor choice. "You must know that I'm here against my will."
She moved closer. "You almost perished the last time you attempted to go out there on your own."
"Talia, I don't belong here. If your father means to keep me here for good, I'm gonna keep trying to leave... and I'd rather die trying. There's nothing you or your father can say to convince me otherwise."
She was a little taken aback by his determination to leave, though she finally nodded. "That's a pity, but I understand the sentiment. Travel the world all we must, but we always gravitate back to where we were born."
Something about what Talia had said made Bruce wonder if she was speaking about herself. They continued to walk down that corridor in silence. Bruce thought about that man in the dark cloak who'd called to him, and it left a knot in his stomach.
Talia stopped at two aligning doors with arabic engravings on them. They fit into an elaborate onion shaped arch that was adorned with what looked to be clear gemstones, and pieces of mirror. She knocked twice, "Father, it's me. The chosen one wishes to speak with you. Is this acceptable?"
She waited quietly for a few moments till a reply came. "You may enter."
The doors were opened to her, and five men stood within. Three, dressed in League garb, one burly individual dressed in a singlet, silken pants and a sash over his waist, and the man in the middle that Bruce immediately surmised was the master, a dark cloak over his shoulders that spooled onto the floor. He wasn't hooded this time. There was a thin smile over a sharp chin, dark eyes, strong nose, skin of a shade of umber, much like his daughter's, and grey streaks in his hair. "I see my daughter has revived you," he said, never taking his eyes off Bruce. Talia gravitated to her father's side, leaving Bruce alone before the master.
"Ra's Al Ghul," Bruce replied, returning his gaze.
"It's Arabic for 'demon's head' - it was a local superstition that I carried with me through the years. That name has only solidified with my position."
Bruce considered what he had said about the origins of his name - Ra's and his daughter Talia certainly appeared to be of middle-eastern origin, yet at the same time bore none of the accent. If he had to place it, both of them sounded more British than anything resembling the east. But back to matters at hand... "You've held me now for five months."
The master grinned. "And you're getting restless. That's completely understandable. You'll be glad to know that in your zeal to leave this place, you've managed to prove yourself as worthy of the title."
"Of being the chosen one?"
"Indeed. You have a great destiny ahead of you. I have glimpsed the future - your future. While others might fear the unknown, you, my boy, will step boldly into the darkness. You will tame it, master it, wield it like a sword and finally be raised above as its king. Your name will be uttered among circles in fear. You will crush tyranny like a feeble weed within your palm. Your enemies will gather against you, but you will be unstoppable... unbreakable. You will be known as the creature in the dark, purveyor of justice, a dark knight - and thus also the heir to my empire."
Bruce listened quietly as Ra's spoke, it sounded more like the ravings of a madman - though a madman savvy enough to have him kidnapped and keep him from leaving for all this time. "An heir?" He looked at Talia questioningly. "What about your daughter?"
Without even turning to Talia, Ra's continued, "My daughter is loyal, and greatly skilled. But it is tradition that no woman shall be permitted to lead the League. Instead, she will be a wife to you, and together, you will bear a son who will then carry on the mantle."
Bruce shot Talia a look of apology as he told her father, "No." She did not speak, but turned to her father with an air of apprehension.
Ra's expression flinched for a moment. It became clear that he wasn't anticipating a rejection of his offer. "You mistake your role in this, Bruce Wayne. Destiny binds you to the League of Shadows, you should not try to fight it."
"I'm sorry but I refuse," Bruce continued. "I do hope that you will find someone more suited for the position though."
The fire grew in Ra's eyes, he was losing his patience. "There is none other!" He insisted. "You are the privileged son of Gotham who will be forged in the fires of the mighty cataclysm! It will be a time of reckoning for all among the slain. Power will be stripped from those who've made a career out of the oppression of others. Criminals will be let loose to plague the few who survive and desperation will run rampant through the streets. But you, my boy, will survive it all and emerge from a city of the dead with an army of the League at your side to put things right, ultimately becoming Gotham's true savior."
He'd never given what Ra's prophecies much weight, being much of a skeptic himself. But the grim picture he painted of Gotham perturbed him enough to ask about it, "A cataclysm?" He recalled a video he'd once seen of a scientist warning the public of a possible earthquake to occur in the near future. One that would rock Gotham to the core. He'd cited research and evidence, but was mostly ignored for being a doomsday conspiracy theorist. Yet for some reason, Bruce had remembered him, and what he had said.
Ra's nodded. "It took a great driving force to send yourself out there into the cold with nothing but a pair of cloth shoes and a robe - I assume that you were headed for home."
"Of course I was."
"If you love your city enough to risk your own life, then you should heed the prophecy to save those you treasure."
Bruce had so many questions, but he doubted that Ra's would be suited to answer them. "How do I save anyone while I'm still a prisoner in Nanda Parbat?"
The master chuckled. "You're no longer a prisoner, Bruce Wayne. You stopped being one the moment that you proved yourself."
"Then send me home. If I'm to be in Gotham City at the time of the cataclysm, then you need to bring me back," Bruce replied.
"Oh trust me, I've already made plans for your return," Ra's stated, to Bruce's surprise. "But remember, there is still the matter of your marriage to Talia. Unfortunately, that is the one thing at this time that I must insist on. Look at me, I'm aging and about to pass on. I want to leave my beautiful daughter in the hands of the man she'd been promised to from birth. This is my legacy to her, and the rest of the League."
Struggling with the thought of marriage to someone he barely knew, Bruce couldn't say the prospect of finally returning to Gotham wasn't enticing him to ignore the other part. "What if I refuse the marriage?" he asked, trying to judge Talia's feelings in the matter, though she just seemed mostly pensive over the issue at hand. He hated that her father had not given her an option in the choosing of her own life partner.
Ra's hardened towards him. "Then you will not leave till you oblige! As long as I'm alive, you are not leaving here till you have bonded with my daughter, and are ready to carry out the prophecy in full."
Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Talia cut in. "Father, you have revealed much to the chosen one. It might be advantageous for him to spend the night alone to consider everything you've said. I'm certain he will be more accommodating tomorrow, given time to think things through."
In a moment, her humble request quenched her father's rage. Offering her a gentle pat on the back, Ra's gazed lovingly upon her. "As wise as always, Daughter. Just like your mother." And turning to Bruce, "It shall be as she says, you will have a day to think things over, and you will see me once again tomorrow. By then, I hope your answer will be more preferable."
As much as Bruce thought to comment further, a night to digest everything didn't sound like a bad idea either. Perhaps he would get his thoughts sorted by then - but as for marriage, he doubted he'd budge on the issue.
He turned to see her watching him intently, waiting for him patiently. It was then he realised that he had stopped completely, his attention caught by the arches facing out. "I uh.. I'm sorry," he hurried over to her side, embarrassed by the undue distraction.
"You're thinking of going out there again?" she observed quietly.
Something about her felt trustworthy, although he knew that being too forthright with the daughter of his captor would probably be a poor choice. "You must know that I'm here against my will."
She moved closer. "You almost perished the last time you attempted to go out there on your own."
"Talia, I don't belong here. If your father means to keep me here for good, I'm gonna keep trying to leave... and I'd rather die trying. There's nothing you or your father can say to convince me otherwise."
She was a little taken aback by his determination to leave, though she finally nodded. "That's a pity, but I understand the sentiment. Travel the world all we must, but we always gravitate back to where we were born."
Something about what Talia had said made Bruce wonder if she was speaking about herself. They continued to walk down that corridor in silence. Bruce thought about that man in the dark cloak who'd called to him, and it left a knot in his stomach.
Talia stopped at two aligning doors with arabic engravings on them. They fit into an elaborate onion shaped arch that was adorned with what looked to be clear gemstones, and pieces of mirror. She knocked twice, "Father, it's me. The chosen one wishes to speak with you. Is this acceptable?"
She waited quietly for a few moments till a reply came. "You may enter."
The doors were opened to her, and five men stood within. Three, dressed in League garb, one burly individual dressed in a singlet, silken pants and a sash over his waist, and the man in the middle that Bruce immediately surmised was the master, a dark cloak over his shoulders that spooled onto the floor. He wasn't hooded this time. There was a thin smile over a sharp chin, dark eyes, strong nose, skin of a shade of umber, much like his daughter's, and grey streaks in his hair. "I see my daughter has revived you," he said, never taking his eyes off Bruce. Talia gravitated to her father's side, leaving Bruce alone before the master.
"Ra's Al Ghul," Bruce replied, returning his gaze.
"It's Arabic for 'demon's head' - it was a local superstition that I carried with me through the years. That name has only solidified with my position."
Bruce considered what he had said about the origins of his name - Ra's and his daughter Talia certainly appeared to be of middle-eastern origin, yet at the same time bore none of the accent. If he had to place it, both of them sounded more British than anything resembling the east. But back to matters at hand... "You've held me now for five months."
The master grinned. "And you're getting restless. That's completely understandable. You'll be glad to know that in your zeal to leave this place, you've managed to prove yourself as worthy of the title."
"Of being the chosen one?"
"Indeed. You have a great destiny ahead of you. I have glimpsed the future - your future. While others might fear the unknown, you, my boy, will step boldly into the darkness. You will tame it, master it, wield it like a sword and finally be raised above as its king. Your name will be uttered among circles in fear. You will crush tyranny like a feeble weed within your palm. Your enemies will gather against you, but you will be unstoppable... unbreakable. You will be known as the creature in the dark, purveyor of justice, a dark knight - and thus also the heir to my empire."
Bruce listened quietly as Ra's spoke, it sounded more like the ravings of a madman - though a madman savvy enough to have him kidnapped and keep him from leaving for all this time. "An heir?" He looked at Talia questioningly. "What about your daughter?"
Without even turning to Talia, Ra's continued, "My daughter is loyal, and greatly skilled. But it is tradition that no woman shall be permitted to lead the League. Instead, she will be a wife to you, and together, you will bear a son who will then carry on the mantle."
Bruce shot Talia a look of apology as he told her father, "No." She did not speak, but turned to her father with an air of apprehension.
Ra's expression flinched for a moment. It became clear that he wasn't anticipating a rejection of his offer. "You mistake your role in this, Bruce Wayne. Destiny binds you to the League of Shadows, you should not try to fight it."
"I'm sorry but I refuse," Bruce continued. "I do hope that you will find someone more suited for the position though."
The fire grew in Ra's eyes, he was losing his patience. "There is none other!" He insisted. "You are the privileged son of Gotham who will be forged in the fires of the mighty cataclysm! It will be a time of reckoning for all among the slain. Power will be stripped from those who've made a career out of the oppression of others. Criminals will be let loose to plague the few who survive and desperation will run rampant through the streets. But you, my boy, will survive it all and emerge from a city of the dead with an army of the League at your side to put things right, ultimately becoming Gotham's true savior."
He'd never given what Ra's prophecies much weight, being much of a skeptic himself. But the grim picture he painted of Gotham perturbed him enough to ask about it, "A cataclysm?" He recalled a video he'd once seen of a scientist warning the public of a possible earthquake to occur in the near future. One that would rock Gotham to the core. He'd cited research and evidence, but was mostly ignored for being a doomsday conspiracy theorist. Yet for some reason, Bruce had remembered him, and what he had said.
Ra's nodded. "It took a great driving force to send yourself out there into the cold with nothing but a pair of cloth shoes and a robe - I assume that you were headed for home."
"Of course I was."
"If you love your city enough to risk your own life, then you should heed the prophecy to save those you treasure."
Bruce had so many questions, but he doubted that Ra's would be suited to answer them. "How do I save anyone while I'm still a prisoner in Nanda Parbat?"
The master chuckled. "You're no longer a prisoner, Bruce Wayne. You stopped being one the moment that you proved yourself."
"Then send me home. If I'm to be in Gotham City at the time of the cataclysm, then you need to bring me back," Bruce replied.
"Oh trust me, I've already made plans for your return," Ra's stated, to Bruce's surprise. "But remember, there is still the matter of your marriage to Talia. Unfortunately, that is the one thing at this time that I must insist on. Look at me, I'm aging and about to pass on. I want to leave my beautiful daughter in the hands of the man she'd been promised to from birth. This is my legacy to her, and the rest of the League."
Struggling with the thought of marriage to someone he barely knew, Bruce couldn't say the prospect of finally returning to Gotham wasn't enticing him to ignore the other part. "What if I refuse the marriage?" he asked, trying to judge Talia's feelings in the matter, though she just seemed mostly pensive over the issue at hand. He hated that her father had not given her an option in the choosing of her own life partner.
Ra's hardened towards him. "Then you will not leave till you oblige! As long as I'm alive, you are not leaving here till you have bonded with my daughter, and are ready to carry out the prophecy in full."
Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Talia cut in. "Father, you have revealed much to the chosen one. It might be advantageous for him to spend the night alone to consider everything you've said. I'm certain he will be more accommodating tomorrow, given time to think things through."
In a moment, her humble request quenched her father's rage. Offering her a gentle pat on the back, Ra's gazed lovingly upon her. "As wise as always, Daughter. Just like your mother." And turning to Bruce, "It shall be as she says, you will have a day to think things over, and you will see me once again tomorrow. By then, I hope your answer will be more preferable."
As much as Bruce thought to comment further, a night to digest everything didn't sound like a bad idea either. Perhaps he would get his thoughts sorted by then - but as for marriage, he doubted he'd budge on the issue.
Wednesday, 2 May 2018
Chapter 12
"No I said Gordon. Detective Jim Gordon!" Alfred yelled into the phone, as he carried the old-school dial-up around the room. "Well have him call me the minute he gets this message, all right, you nancy?" He slammed the earpiece down on the receiver and looked about the room, especially at where Selina was seated. She had a pack of ice on the back of her head where she had been hit, and she was none too happy about it, neither was he.
Master Bruce was gone, and they weren't even sure how long it'd been. Selina suspected it'd been around the time she'd last seen him; when he told her about the note, but she couldn't be certain. That clone had played them, and played them good. Sure, he had his suspicions, but each time he'd assuaged them, thinking that them a by-product of Master Bruce hitting a dead end to his crusade to avenge his parents' deaths... or that it had something to do with breaking up with Selina. And he was actually pleased to see Bruce smile and have a good time every now and then - it plain blinded him to the truth, that it was a clone in his place.
Selina groaned as she rubbed the upper bridge of her nose. She'd briefly mentioned the clone pushing her out a window. She didn't mention how high they'd been, or what injuries she'd sustained from the fall - but Alfred figured that she couldn't be well, especially after being knocked out cold for the second time by the clone. "You should go see a doctor," he suggested.
"Mm-mm," she turned down his proposal, choosing instead to stay embedded on that seat.
"Fine, whatever. Listen. Think, can you remember anything else?" He didn't like the thought of pressuring an injured child to answer his questions, but time was of the essence, and Gordon wasn't contactable as of yet. He knew he'd to do something, or he'd go mad with worry.
"Only what I already told you, Alfred," she replied, still holding the ice to her head. "The clone came to me, talking about how Gotham's gonna be judged, and a lot of people are gonna die."
"It's the bloody Court of Owls, isn't it?" he grumbled.
"Mm-hmm," she widened her eyes at him to prove her point. "I warned you. Warned you what would happen if you poked the tiger."
She was absolutely right, of course. But he wouldn't admit that. "What, do you want a medal dear? All that matters is they've got Bruce."
Selina had recently come to learn of the viciousness of the Court. With the clone within their control, she knew it'd be well within their power to be rid of the real Bruce Wayne. Since her fall, she'd begun to increasingly believe that Bruce might not just be lost, but also dead. "Wait, do you think he's still alive?"
"My boy is still alive!" yelled Alfred, his face flushed with emotion. He pointed a finger at her. "And you, you're going to help me find him."
She frowned - the guy was obviously a nervous wreck, not in the right state of mind to think things through. "You want to go on a wild goose chase? That's on you. Count me out."
"Oh... no, don't do that."
The more she thought about Bruce's disappearance, she began thinking about her own. If the Court had the power to replace someone as significant as Bruce Wayne, imagine what they'd do to her. "I've had enough of being a part of you and Bruce's schemes. It's time I thought about myself."
"Don't tell me you're still angry with Bruce 'cos he never told you your mom was a wonky con artist?" Alfred rattled on. "That boy's been loyal to you! He's been good, he's been a friend. And now he's in trouble you won't even lift a finger?"
Survival... the word echoed in her head. Do what is needed to survive. "Maybe you should just accept the fact that Bruce is dead."
"You're a disgrace," Alfred said in disappointment, to which Selina snorted defiantly. "You're like your mum."
The room went silent. His words had stopped her in her tracks. If there was one person she would never ever want to be associated with, it was her mom. She couldn't comprehend how someone could be as selfish and narcissistic as her - and yet perhaps she had more in common with Maria as she'd once thought.
"Go on then," Alfred chided sarcastically. "Run away. And don't you ever, come back here." He turned around and stormed out of the room, expecting her to see herself out.
Selina got up from the chair and put the ice-pack down on the African Bubinga table closest to her. It held nothing more than a reading mat, a stationery organizer with three golden pens sticking out, and an old desktop photo of the members of the Wayne family. Thomas, Martha and Bruce. Her hand moved over the table, and she picked up the picture. Bruce... He was just a little kid when she'd first seen him in that alley. Since then, he'd been a bit of a jerk towards her from time to time, but she'd had to admit that they'd also had good times together. She reconsidered the possibility of him escaping death at the hands of the Court. Alfred seemed to be certain that he was still alive - although she could probably chalk it up to guilt on his part. He'd been living with Five all these months, and hadn't a clue. But seriously, would the Court have left him alive? And why? Or where's he been all this time? She shook her head. That'd lead to much too many questions.
Still... running away would precisely be something that Maria would do. And Selina was determined to be nothing like her mother. She put the picture down, and turned towards the window.
Wild goose chase or not, she figured she'd give the search a shot.
Master Bruce was gone, and they weren't even sure how long it'd been. Selina suspected it'd been around the time she'd last seen him; when he told her about the note, but she couldn't be certain. That clone had played them, and played them good. Sure, he had his suspicions, but each time he'd assuaged them, thinking that them a by-product of Master Bruce hitting a dead end to his crusade to avenge his parents' deaths... or that it had something to do with breaking up with Selina. And he was actually pleased to see Bruce smile and have a good time every now and then - it plain blinded him to the truth, that it was a clone in his place.
Selina groaned as she rubbed the upper bridge of her nose. She'd briefly mentioned the clone pushing her out a window. She didn't mention how high they'd been, or what injuries she'd sustained from the fall - but Alfred figured that she couldn't be well, especially after being knocked out cold for the second time by the clone. "You should go see a doctor," he suggested.
"Mm-mm," she turned down his proposal, choosing instead to stay embedded on that seat.
"Fine, whatever. Listen. Think, can you remember anything else?" He didn't like the thought of pressuring an injured child to answer his questions, but time was of the essence, and Gordon wasn't contactable as of yet. He knew he'd to do something, or he'd go mad with worry.
"Only what I already told you, Alfred," she replied, still holding the ice to her head. "The clone came to me, talking about how Gotham's gonna be judged, and a lot of people are gonna die."
"It's the bloody Court of Owls, isn't it?" he grumbled.
"Mm-hmm," she widened her eyes at him to prove her point. "I warned you. Warned you what would happen if you poked the tiger."
She was absolutely right, of course. But he wouldn't admit that. "What, do you want a medal dear? All that matters is they've got Bruce."
Selina had recently come to learn of the viciousness of the Court. With the clone within their control, she knew it'd be well within their power to be rid of the real Bruce Wayne. Since her fall, she'd begun to increasingly believe that Bruce might not just be lost, but also dead. "Wait, do you think he's still alive?"
"My boy is still alive!" yelled Alfred, his face flushed with emotion. He pointed a finger at her. "And you, you're going to help me find him."
She frowned - the guy was obviously a nervous wreck, not in the right state of mind to think things through. "You want to go on a wild goose chase? That's on you. Count me out."
"Oh... no, don't do that."
The more she thought about Bruce's disappearance, she began thinking about her own. If the Court had the power to replace someone as significant as Bruce Wayne, imagine what they'd do to her. "I've had enough of being a part of you and Bruce's schemes. It's time I thought about myself."
"Don't tell me you're still angry with Bruce 'cos he never told you your mom was a wonky con artist?" Alfred rattled on. "That boy's been loyal to you! He's been good, he's been a friend. And now he's in trouble you won't even lift a finger?"
Survival... the word echoed in her head. Do what is needed to survive. "Maybe you should just accept the fact that Bruce is dead."
"You're a disgrace," Alfred said in disappointment, to which Selina snorted defiantly. "You're like your mum."
The room went silent. His words had stopped her in her tracks. If there was one person she would never ever want to be associated with, it was her mom. She couldn't comprehend how someone could be as selfish and narcissistic as her - and yet perhaps she had more in common with Maria as she'd once thought.
"Go on then," Alfred chided sarcastically. "Run away. And don't you ever, come back here." He turned around and stormed out of the room, expecting her to see herself out.
Selina got up from the chair and put the ice-pack down on the African Bubinga table closest to her. It held nothing more than a reading mat, a stationery organizer with three golden pens sticking out, and an old desktop photo of the members of the Wayne family. Thomas, Martha and Bruce. Her hand moved over the table, and she picked up the picture. Bruce... He was just a little kid when she'd first seen him in that alley. Since then, he'd been a bit of a jerk towards her from time to time, but she'd had to admit that they'd also had good times together. She reconsidered the possibility of him escaping death at the hands of the Court. Alfred seemed to be certain that he was still alive - although she could probably chalk it up to guilt on his part. He'd been living with Five all these months, and hadn't a clue. But seriously, would the Court have left him alive? And why? Or where's he been all this time? She shook her head. That'd lead to much too many questions.
Still... running away would precisely be something that Maria would do. And Selina was determined to be nothing like her mother. She put the picture down, and turned towards the window.
Wild goose chase or not, she figured she'd give the search a shot.
Chapter 11
"So how are you feeling?" she asked.
His entire nasal passage felt like it was on fire from almost drowning, and his limbs still felt numb, but he nodded anyway. "I'm fine." He moved the sheets over his shoulders, then huddled himself beneath. "So... what does this mean for me?"
Talia watched him quietly, then smiled and shifted a little closer. "You've proved yourself to Father. You are indeed the chosen one."
Bruce raised a brow at her. "Didn't he know that already? That's what got me here in the first place."
"He saw you in a vision, beloved. But he couldn't know for certain that you were the one till you performed what was required to truly earn that position."
This was the third time Talia had referred to him as 'beloved', it was starting to get on his nerves. Though greater than that, the master - or Ra's Al Ghul, as Talia had referred to, appeared to have had all this planned ahead. "The escape, you mean to say that he anticipated what I would do?"
"Of course!" she laughed lightly. "Every skill he had Lady Shiva provide you with, was to prepare you for your test."
Aghast at the thought of being fooled into thinking that he could've actually freed himself from Nanda Parbat, Bruce knew he could only blame himself for not picking out the signs. In his eagerness to escape, he hadn't considered it being too much of a coincidence that he'd been taught kendo sword skills, and wall-walking for the precise purpose of getting that wire down from the ceiling. And with all things considered, how odd it was that he'd been left alone long enough to practice - that in itself should have triggered alarms - not to mention the towel and the pencil at his bedside that allowed him to get the rest of the way.
"But you've succeeded," she went on, shifting herself closer still. Placing a finger upon the center of her throat, making a trail down the front of her robe, widening it slightly.
Bruce quickly clasped her finger in his hands to make her stop.
She looked at him in a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "I could be your reward..." she cooed.
"Does your father know that you're doing this?" he asked, still locked tightly onto her hand. He was baffled that Ra's daughter seemed intent on throwing herself at him. She was clearly a beautiful girl, and could possibly get a dozen other suitors if she so wished. Why settle for one who'd shown no interest?
She fluttered those lashes as she made a bashful gesture. "Yes, he does. Father betrothed me to one at the time of my birth. It was to be my duty as the daughter of the Demon to do as he wished. He would often tell me that this man whom I had been promised to, would be unlike any other. And that I was to be at his side to support him on his path to becoming a legend. I've been waiting ever so patiently for this day to come. And now... at long last you've arrived. You, my beloved, are my betrothed."
Bruce dropped her hand in shock. Obviously, there'd been a terrible misunderstanding. That, or he was in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. "Talia, I'm not your beloved, and definitely not your betrothed. I'm sorry to say but your father has made a mistake."
She put her hand on her lap and straightened up to look at him. "There is no mistake. You are as the prophecy describes."
"A prophecy that your father made up. Look at yourself! You don't even look old enough to be married!"
Talia wrinkled her nose in disgust. She had regained that aura of displeasure he'd seen before. "I'm sixteen, and of perfect marriageable age. Father says that I'm ready."
Bruce let the silence fall between them. In a way, he felt a tinge of sympathy for Talia. She'd allow her father to run her life without realising that she could have any opinions at all. "Look... I don't mean to upset you. I'm sure you'll make someone a wonderful wife someday - but I barely know you... and I don't think these are exactly the right circumstances to get to know someone."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to sniff pitifully. "Did I fail you, beloved? Do you not find me attractive?"
He sighed, and took one of her hands in his. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe it's better that I speak directly with your father. Will you take me to him?"
Her gaze drifted to the hand that held hers, and planted itself there. "You will accept me then?"
"Talia..." he pleaded, hoping that he would not have to answer her question.
After a few moments, she shut her eyes painfully and looked away. "I will take you to him."
His entire nasal passage felt like it was on fire from almost drowning, and his limbs still felt numb, but he nodded anyway. "I'm fine." He moved the sheets over his shoulders, then huddled himself beneath. "So... what does this mean for me?"
Talia watched him quietly, then smiled and shifted a little closer. "You've proved yourself to Father. You are indeed the chosen one."
Bruce raised a brow at her. "Didn't he know that already? That's what got me here in the first place."
"He saw you in a vision, beloved. But he couldn't know for certain that you were the one till you performed what was required to truly earn that position."
This was the third time Talia had referred to him as 'beloved', it was starting to get on his nerves. Though greater than that, the master - or Ra's Al Ghul, as Talia had referred to, appeared to have had all this planned ahead. "The escape, you mean to say that he anticipated what I would do?"
"Of course!" she laughed lightly. "Every skill he had Lady Shiva provide you with, was to prepare you for your test."
Aghast at the thought of being fooled into thinking that he could've actually freed himself from Nanda Parbat, Bruce knew he could only blame himself for not picking out the signs. In his eagerness to escape, he hadn't considered it being too much of a coincidence that he'd been taught kendo sword skills, and wall-walking for the precise purpose of getting that wire down from the ceiling. And with all things considered, how odd it was that he'd been left alone long enough to practice - that in itself should have triggered alarms - not to mention the towel and the pencil at his bedside that allowed him to get the rest of the way.
"But you've succeeded," she went on, shifting herself closer still. Placing a finger upon the center of her throat, making a trail down the front of her robe, widening it slightly.
Bruce quickly clasped her finger in his hands to make her stop.
She looked at him in a mixture of surprise and intrigue. "I could be your reward..." she cooed.
"Does your father know that you're doing this?" he asked, still locked tightly onto her hand. He was baffled that Ra's daughter seemed intent on throwing herself at him. She was clearly a beautiful girl, and could possibly get a dozen other suitors if she so wished. Why settle for one who'd shown no interest?
She fluttered those lashes as she made a bashful gesture. "Yes, he does. Father betrothed me to one at the time of my birth. It was to be my duty as the daughter of the Demon to do as he wished. He would often tell me that this man whom I had been promised to, would be unlike any other. And that I was to be at his side to support him on his path to becoming a legend. I've been waiting ever so patiently for this day to come. And now... at long last you've arrived. You, my beloved, are my betrothed."
Bruce dropped her hand in shock. Obviously, there'd been a terrible misunderstanding. That, or he was in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. "Talia, I'm not your beloved, and definitely not your betrothed. I'm sorry to say but your father has made a mistake."
She put her hand on her lap and straightened up to look at him. "There is no mistake. You are as the prophecy describes."
"A prophecy that your father made up. Look at yourself! You don't even look old enough to be married!"
Talia wrinkled her nose in disgust. She had regained that aura of displeasure he'd seen before. "I'm sixteen, and of perfect marriageable age. Father says that I'm ready."
Bruce let the silence fall between them. In a way, he felt a tinge of sympathy for Talia. She'd allow her father to run her life without realising that she could have any opinions at all. "Look... I don't mean to upset you. I'm sure you'll make someone a wonderful wife someday - but I barely know you... and I don't think these are exactly the right circumstances to get to know someone."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to sniff pitifully. "Did I fail you, beloved? Do you not find me attractive?"
He sighed, and took one of her hands in his. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Maybe it's better that I speak directly with your father. Will you take me to him?"
Her gaze drifted to the hand that held hers, and planted itself there. "You will accept me then?"
"Talia..." he pleaded, hoping that he would not have to answer her question.
After a few moments, she shut her eyes painfully and looked away. "I will take you to him."
Tuesday, 1 May 2018
Chapter 10
"I'm sorry..."
Bruce turned around. He was back in Martha's art studio that Alfred had converted into a gym, just a year ago. He was in a polyester long-sleeved shirt, jumper pants, with his hands tucked into a pair of boxing gloves.
"I didn't understand what you were trying to do." It was Selina. Standing in the doorway with the rays of morning sunlight dancing off her many golden curls. "You were trying to give me a home with my mom. Regardless of the train wreck that she is."
"I'm sorry too," he replied, feeling a chill in the base of his bones, creep up his spine. "Perhaps I was too optimistic that she'd change. I only wanted you to be happy."
"I'm tired of being angry at her... of being angry at you." Selina spoke quietly, nervously knitting her fingers between her leather gloves.
He smiled as he stepped up to her. The cold that had sprung from the base of his bones had entered his cheeks and spread to his ears. But he didn't care. It felt like ages since he'd spoken with Selina, and certainly not in an amicable manner. He couldn't believe that reconciliation was finally in the cards. All he wanted to do was to live in the moment. "I hate it when we fight." His fingers were getting numb, as though there was a cold draft flowing through his gloves. "Selina... I've missed you."
Her eyes lit up as she gazed blithely at him. "I've missed you too." She moved in for a hug. Her warmth embraced his body, dispelling the cold in his being as quickly as drifting smoke on a windy day. He leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It felt good. Much better than it had ever felt.
"Oh, beloved..." Came the sigh of a female voice that didn't sound quite like Selina's.
His eyes flew open.
It was dark, but not dark enough for him to tell that he wasn't anywhere near Wayne Manor. He was on a foreign bed with the sheets draped over him. And in his arms was someone warm, but definitely not Selina. He gasped and released the person at his side, moving as far away as possible without completely falling off. It was then that he realised he hadn't a shred of clothes on. Instinctively, he grasped at the sheets and pulled them closer to his chest.
"Calm down. I know it must be very confusing for you, but trust me when I say that you are safe," that person by his side moved off the bed. The voice sounded like it belonged to a female. She glided across the room, picked up what sounded like be a box of matches, came back and lit a lamp that stood by the bedside.
The glow of the lamp brightened the room somewhat. It illuminated the curvy figure of the person who had been by his side - except, like him, she hadn't a shred of clothing on her. He turned away quickly.
"What's wrong, beloved?" she said, leaning towards him.
"Can you please put something on?" he asked, keeping his gaze away from her. "I can't look at you like this."
"Hmm..." She sounded displeased, even while he could hear her doing something about her nudity. Following some sounds of moving fabric, she finally spoke, "Alright. I have a robe on. Will that do?"
Apprehensively, he turned back to take a look at her. She had her hands on her hips, a silken black robe with golden trimmings upon her body. Her skin was the shade of pale umber, tilted eyes shaded by luscious lashes, a perfect pointed nose, and red lips pursed, waiting for his response. If he had to guess, she looked to be close to his age. "Thank you," he replied. She nodded, wrapping her arms around her chest as she did. "Will you tell me who you are, and how I ended up here?"
"Father rescued you from the valley outside. Said you nearly drowned. Told me to keep you warm." She looked at him sternly. "I used the heat from my body to do just that. You were frozen solid when you first came in here."
Images from the events of his escape began to come back to him. The dark figure, the icy stream. Ensuing his near death event, he had most likely been brought back to the dwelling of the League, and placed in the room that he was in to be nursed back to health. Bruce also remembered what he'd read about survival in the alpine regions, and sharing the warmth of the human body to prevent frostbite. "Right. I'm sorry if I don't sound grateful. I really should be." He couldn't say that he was pleased to be back where he'd started - but at that very moment, he was just glad to be alive.
She eased up, a smile picking up the corners of her cheeks as she sat on a corner of the bed, her soft raven hair flowing like a river down to her waist. Stretching out a hand to him, she formally introduced herself, "My name is Talia, the biological daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, the Demon's Head."
Bruce turned around. He was back in Martha's art studio that Alfred had converted into a gym, just a year ago. He was in a polyester long-sleeved shirt, jumper pants, with his hands tucked into a pair of boxing gloves.
"I didn't understand what you were trying to do." It was Selina. Standing in the doorway with the rays of morning sunlight dancing off her many golden curls. "You were trying to give me a home with my mom. Regardless of the train wreck that she is."
"I'm sorry too," he replied, feeling a chill in the base of his bones, creep up his spine. "Perhaps I was too optimistic that she'd change. I only wanted you to be happy."
"I'm tired of being angry at her... of being angry at you." Selina spoke quietly, nervously knitting her fingers between her leather gloves.
He smiled as he stepped up to her. The cold that had sprung from the base of his bones had entered his cheeks and spread to his ears. But he didn't care. It felt like ages since he'd spoken with Selina, and certainly not in an amicable manner. He couldn't believe that reconciliation was finally in the cards. All he wanted to do was to live in the moment. "I hate it when we fight." His fingers were getting numb, as though there was a cold draft flowing through his gloves. "Selina... I've missed you."
Her eyes lit up as she gazed blithely at him. "I've missed you too." She moved in for a hug. Her warmth embraced his body, dispelling the cold in his being as quickly as drifting smoke on a windy day. He leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It felt good. Much better than it had ever felt.
"Oh, beloved..." Came the sigh of a female voice that didn't sound quite like Selina's.
His eyes flew open.
It was dark, but not dark enough for him to tell that he wasn't anywhere near Wayne Manor. He was on a foreign bed with the sheets draped over him. And in his arms was someone warm, but definitely not Selina. He gasped and released the person at his side, moving as far away as possible without completely falling off. It was then that he realised he hadn't a shred of clothes on. Instinctively, he grasped at the sheets and pulled them closer to his chest.
"Calm down. I know it must be very confusing for you, but trust me when I say that you are safe," that person by his side moved off the bed. The voice sounded like it belonged to a female. She glided across the room, picked up what sounded like be a box of matches, came back and lit a lamp that stood by the bedside.
The glow of the lamp brightened the room somewhat. It illuminated the curvy figure of the person who had been by his side - except, like him, she hadn't a shred of clothing on her. He turned away quickly.
"What's wrong, beloved?" she said, leaning towards him.
"Can you please put something on?" he asked, keeping his gaze away from her. "I can't look at you like this."
"Hmm..." She sounded displeased, even while he could hear her doing something about her nudity. Following some sounds of moving fabric, she finally spoke, "Alright. I have a robe on. Will that do?"
Apprehensively, he turned back to take a look at her. She had her hands on her hips, a silken black robe with golden trimmings upon her body. Her skin was the shade of pale umber, tilted eyes shaded by luscious lashes, a perfect pointed nose, and red lips pursed, waiting for his response. If he had to guess, she looked to be close to his age. "Thank you," he replied. She nodded, wrapping her arms around her chest as she did. "Will you tell me who you are, and how I ended up here?"
"Father rescued you from the valley outside. Said you nearly drowned. Told me to keep you warm." She looked at him sternly. "I used the heat from my body to do just that. You were frozen solid when you first came in here."
Images from the events of his escape began to come back to him. The dark figure, the icy stream. Ensuing his near death event, he had most likely been brought back to the dwelling of the League, and placed in the room that he was in to be nursed back to health. Bruce also remembered what he'd read about survival in the alpine regions, and sharing the warmth of the human body to prevent frostbite. "Right. I'm sorry if I don't sound grateful. I really should be." He couldn't say that he was pleased to be back where he'd started - but at that very moment, he was just glad to be alive.
She eased up, a smile picking up the corners of her cheeks as she sat on a corner of the bed, her soft raven hair flowing like a river down to her waist. Stretching out a hand to him, she formally introduced herself, "My name is Talia, the biological daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, the Demon's Head."
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